Rhythm and Rhyme

by MyHobby

Rating: teen
Tags: Sweetie Belle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dr. Caballeron, Romance, Button Mash, Sex, Daring Do, Ahuizotl, Adventure, Violence
Length: 266729

Sweetie Belle's relationship with Button Mash is tested when she is kidnapped for Ahuizotl's master plan. With the changelings suing for peace, Equestria nears a grand upheaval. Can Daring Do tip the scales?

Daring Do's ongoing battle against Ahuizotl has come to a bitter turn. The fiendish immortal's plan hits close to home when a local singer is kidnapped to finalize his latest plan to control the sun and become a god. Daring Do must race against the clock and her own aging body to return Sweetie Belle to safety.

Button Mash's luck stays true to form as he finds himself neck-deep in the rescue effort. He's scrawny, weak, and untrained, relying on Daring Do and her crew of warriors to survive the fight. But when Sweetie's fate hangs in the balance, will he have what it takes to step up?

At the heart of it all, Sweetie Belle learns that her voice has the power to change the course of the world. As Ahuizotl tightens his grip on his victims, she might be the only hope for Equestria.

Can an adventurer past her prime, a stallion with more doubts than answers, and a singer with a heavy heart save the world?

Rated Teen and Sex for

Action Violence
and
Muchas Smoochas

Part of The Heart's Promise Continuity
Lord Mayor Applejack
Fahr Drill
The Unmitigated Disaster
Scootaloo Will Fly!
Nature in the Wild
DayBreak
Lightning Struck Home
In the Absence of Sunset Shimmer
An Equestrian Griffon
If You Weren't Afraid
The Worst Kept Secret
Rhythm and Rhyme
In the Absence of Twilight Sparkle
The High Pariah of Breezy Bastion
The Heart's Promise

Published 2016-05-30 02:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2020-02-08 04:44:56 UTC

The Mechanized Monstrosity

The heat of the jungle stifled every breath. The trill of an unseen bird was answered by the crackle of an oversized insect. A line of ponies and other creatures disturbed the local wildlife with every whoosh they made against the thick leaves. A steady thwack-thwack-thwack led the group as Martial Paw the griffon cut a path through the undergrowth.

Daring Do held a map in front of her face, barely looking where she was going. Her ears swiveled every which way, taking in the sounds of the wilderness. A snapped twig caused her to extend a wing.

The procession halted. The smell of sweat hung in the air—sharp as spice—accompanied by decayed greens and overripe fruit. Creatures of every sort reached for their weapons, their eyes attempting to pierce the green of the jungle.

Daring glanced at the creature behind her. The white-coated earth pony sniffed the air, licked his lips, and shook his head. He didn’t sense any danger. It was safe to continue.

Daring Do touched Martial’s back and gave him a soft shove. He resumed his work with the machete. They carried onward, their nerves on edge.

She tapped the map. They were close to one of the landmarks: A boundary pillar made from carved stone blocks. With luck, it would still be solid enough to use it as a reference point. With bad luck, it would have dissolved into mud over two millennia ago.

Martial’s next thwack ended with a metallic clang. He pulled his machete back to reveal stone. “Not a natural formation,” he said. “It’s carved. Possibly with iron tools.”

He leaned closer and peered through a crack between two blocks. “With how well the tolerances hold after all these years, this is the work of some expert stone carvers—”

A swarm of winged spiders crawled from the stonework. He let out an undignified squawk and swatted at them with his wings. They spun threads as they flew, wrapping his head in a coating of web.

Daring Do pressed him against the stone and grabbed a flare from her backpack. She lit the signal to wave it at the swarm of tiny assailants. They scattered into the trees, their fuzzy legs dangling from fattened bodies.

“Freaking anansi.” Daring Do squelched the flare in the dirt. “You got lucky they tried to catch you before they bit you. Hurts like heck.”

“Thanks,” Martial muttered through a mouthful of silk. He clawed at his beak, shuddering all the while. “Charming little creatures, aren’t they?”

“Shush.” Daring Do cupped her chin and looked up at the pillar. It rose several meters in the air, and was topped by an insectoid statue at the peak. “Let’s get this thing cleared off. I want somebody in the trees to get a lay of the land. We’re close to the old ruin. I can taste it.”

The white-coated earth pony peered through a patch of ferns. “I d-don’t think that’s necessary, Doc.”

“What makes you say that, Blank?” Daring Do came alongside him and pulled the soft leaves aside. “Aha. Never mind.”

A valley stretched out before them, filled to the brim with ancient trees and gnarled roots. Above the branches, a pyramid stood tall and proud, its stone covered in vines and centuries of erosion. From where she stood, Daring could see a stairway leading to a wide door set into the side of the structure.

“Nice.” Daring pulled off her pith helmet and brushed the dampness out of her mane. “Looks like the map was right on the money. Does it feel like home yet?”

Blankety Blank shrugged. “C-can’t say I’ve ever been here before, Doc.”

“Eh. I expected some sort of cross-cultural déjà vu with you emotion-eaters.” Daring laid a hoof across his back. “Wanna take a closer look?”

“Definitely.”

Daring Do marched back to the pillar and stood at the center of the group. “Alright, peeps! We’re setting up temporary camp here while a small team enters the ruins. If we aren’t back in, like, two hours, send a search party and shoot a message to the princesses.” She pointed a hoof at a nearby unicorn. “As a matter of fact, let them know we’ve found the city right now. Sparkle’s been on the edge of her seat for news.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Alright.” Daring Do stretched her wings out. The joints popped with a painful twang. Hiding her wince, she waved Blankety Blank and Martial Paw closer. “Marty, grab yourself a decent sword. If we meet something ugly in there, I wanna know you can handle it.”

Martial Paw set his machete aside and retrieved his pack from Humphrey the camel. Metal slid against hide as he drew a long rapier from its sheath. He gave the sword a few experimental swings. “Don’t fret, Dr. Do. This sword’s stopped a charging manticore.”

Blankety Blank snickered. “W-were you holding it at th-the time?”

“Yes.” Martial narrowed his eyes. He clicked his beak at Blank. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“N-nothing.” Blankety Blank shrugged. He peered through a set of tiny binoculars. “How are we getting down there?”

“Much as I hate to admit it,” Daring said, “we’re flying.” She massaged her wings at the joint, rubbing her aching muscles and preparing herself for the journey. “Call me hasty, but I don’t relish the idea of another three-mile trek through the jungle.”

She raised an eyebrow at Blankety Blank. “Which brings me to you.”

Blank pressed his lips together. He let out a sigh and nodded. “Sure. Just hang on a second.”

He stood still beside the stone pillar and breathed deep. A spark lit at his forehead. Magic trailed down to his hooves and ignited in green flame. The fire crawled up his legs, charring him to a chitinous black. When the flames extinguished, Blankety Blank had become a small, thin changeling.

Blankety glanced around at the other members of the expedition. “You’re sure we can trust these guys? K-kinda don’t want this getting out.”

“Relax; they’re too smart to blab.” Daring Do removed her backpack and strapped a canteen over her shoulders. “If they weren’t, they’d already be dead. Treasure hunting’s kinda a rough business to get into, you know?”

Blankety Blank’s multifaceted eyes took in the scenery. No one had paid him much attention, save for a brief glance to watch his transformation. As Daring watched, the exoskeletal plates on his back relaxed and spread out. “I t-trust you, at least.”

“That’s all I ask.” Daring Do took Martial’s machete in her mouth and gave the greenery a swift thwack. She dropped the blade and gripped her mouth. “Ow! Dangit!”

Martial Paw picked up the machete and finished Daring’s cut. He gave her a half-smile. “Sorry, Dr. Do. Swords weren’t made with ponies in mind.”

“Wipe that smug smile from your face before I do it for you.” She licked her molars and scowled. “I think I chipped a tooth.”

Blankety Blank tapped his scraggly horn. “Th-that’s why I’ve always appreciated magic.”

“Both of you can kiss my cutie mark.” Daring Do spread her wings and stepped off the cliff. With her joints locked, she glided towards the ruin. “Come on; we’re burning daylight.”

The changeling and the griffon followed her down, Martial’s wings flapping occasionally, Blank’s moving at a constant hum. Daring winced and focused on her destination. She didn’t like being this high up; it was too easy to imagine what would happen if her wings failed her. Again. Martial at least was strong and fast enough to catch her if she fell.

Her feet touched down on the stone steps, followed close after by Blank’s cloven hooves and Martial’s paws. Lining the staircase were two carved centipedes, which reached from the base of the pyramid to the doorway. She gave them a long look. “I guess ancient changelings had some sort of bug fixation. Is it still the same way, now?”

“N-no.” Blankety’s forked tongue slithered out to taste lingering emotions in the air. If he found anything interesting, he was sure to let Daring know. “Changelings aren’t exactly the m-most ornamental b-builders these days.”

Like massive steps, the pyramid towered layer by layer, each step receding towards the center. Carvings could be seen where the weathering had not taken effect; the heads of giant insects accompanied spiraling grooves and hexagonal patterns. At the top, where the ruin had once come to a point, there was only a pile of rubble.

Daring Do grinned. “So what are we waiting for?” She scampered up the stairs and struck a pose. “The unknown awaits! Let’s see what’s just beyond the veil.”

Martial rested his talon on his hilt. He clicked his beak. “By your word, Dr. Do!”

Blankety snapped a quick salute. “After you, Doc.”

They came to the entrance in short order. Daring Do pulled a torch from Martial’s back and lit it with a flick of her hoof. She eased herself into the pyramid, step by step. The walls came into view, her light being the first that had touched them for eons. Rats and insects skittered away. Albino lizards crawled along the ceiling. Blind slugs devoured the mold growing on the stone.

It wasn’t a long walk to the center of the room. Daring looked over her shoulder to see the entryway sitting open to the sunlight. “Gets dark fast in here, doesn’t it?”

“It’s n-not so bad.” Blankety touched a growth of sludge. “I’ll admit that this part does feel like the hives. Unf-fortunately.”

Daring stepped forward. “Yeah, it does have that sorta grimy feel to—”

Her hoof met empty air.

She let out a curse as she tumbled forward into nothingness. She jolted to a halt. Martial Paw’s strong talon hauled her back, even as her torch careened down, down, down a sheer-walled well.

“Thanks,” she said, breathless.

“Any time.” Martial Paw glanced at Blankety, who lit the area with the green light from his horn. “Do you want to light another torch, or will Blank do?”

“I’ll t-take it from here.” Blank came to the edge of the well. The torch could still be seen, winking as the wind from its fall tore at its flames. “What do you think is down there?”

“The map said it was a changeling city.” Daring Do rubbed her chest in an effort to slow her racing heart. “And changelings do like to live underground.”

Martial Paw gave her a double-take. “You think this entire ruin is just the entrance?”

“That or the city’s half aboveground, half below.” Daring Do rubbed her hooves together. “Either way, we’re gonna see the world beneath.”

Blankty fluttered up to the ceiling and pointed out a rusted pulley. “L-looks like it used to have an elevator. We’re gonna need to fly down.”

Martial Paw shook his head. He spread his wings to their fullest. “The shaft’s only three meters wide. My wingspan’s too broad, and Dr. Do’s wings aren’t reliable enough to carry her down. We need to lower a rope.”

Daring nibbled her lip. “Is there anything in this rickety old place we trust to hold our weight?”

Martial folded his wings against his back and prowled around the perimeter. He ran his talon along the wall, seeking purchase. “Can you widen your glow, Blank? Maybe there’s something we—”

His talon touched something cold and metallic. His voice shifted up an octave. “Both of you, come here. You need to see this.”

Daring Do and Blank trotted close. The object was hard to see in the green-tinted light, but a moment of scrutiny made things clear. A curved piece of iron had been embedded into the wall, as shiny as the day it was forged. “It’s a hook,” Daring said. “A new one. Somebody was here. Recently.”

A cold chill ran down her spine. Her hackles rose as she spoke a name. “Ahuizotl. Dang. Dang it!”

Martial Paw wrinkled his forehead. “We don’t know that it was Ahuizotl…”

She threw her pith helmet to the floor. “Who the hay else is looking for changeling cities? Who the hay else would know about the dagger? Riddle me that!”

“Either way!” Blankety shouted. The echo of his voice dropped to a whisper before he spoke again. “Either way, we need to keep m-moving forward. We don’t even know if whoever this was actually took anything. We w-won’t know until we get down th-there.”

Daring Do blew a hot breath through her lips. She rubbed her eyes and flipped her helmet back to its usual spot. “Get the freaking rope hooked up. We’re going down right the heck now.”

***

Martial and Daring climbed swiftly down the rope. Blankety waited below them, having measured out the length they would need. He hovered over the ground, unable to see much around him, since his light couldn’t pierce the hazy darkness.

It felt a little like a hive, yes, but there was also a deadness to it all. It was abandoned, empty, all but cursed. A simple taste of the atmosphere told him that no changelings had set foot inside in the two millennia it had lain quiet. There was a fresh hint of ponies, alongside a huge, overbearing presence he suspected was Ahuizotl’s, but otherwise, it was blank.

Daring Do’s hooves clanged against a bronze plate at the base of the shaft. She tilted her ears as the noise reverberated. “Sounds like we’re in a big, open chamber. What do you think, Blankety?”

“S-same.” Blankety Blank touched down a short distance away, his cloven hooves gripping the stone floor. “Can’t see anything, though. There’s too much dust.”

Martial Paw spread his wings and leaped over Daring’s head. “We’re going to have to come back with more powerful lanterns.”

Daring Do eased herself along. She tested every step before putting her weight down. “Keep an eye out for traps. Snares, broken pillars, poison darts, explosives… anything. Everything. Don’t let your guard down.”

Blankety reached a shoulder-high wall. There was a drop on the other side, leading to a second floor dozens of meters below. Moving along the edge, he found a bridge that extended into the distance.

“Mandible.”

His muscles tensed beneath his chitin. He flicked a filmy ear towards the others. “Did one of you say something?”

“Nah,” Daring said.

Martial shook his head, busy examining a carving.

“Good,” Blankety muttered. “Best case scenario is that I’m losing my mind.” In a louder voice, he said, “I hear something. Doesn’t feel like anypony’s close, but keep your eyes peeled.”

“Mandible.”

“Did you hear that?” He glanced between them, his wings buzzing. “Did you hear a voice?”

Daring quirked her ears. She ground her teeth together and sighed. “No. I got nothing. Is it your… your freaky emotion-tasting thingy? Are you feeling something somebody left behind?”

“It do-doesn’t work like that.” Blankety rubbed the back of his smooth head. “I taste emotions. I don’t hear voices—”

“Mandible.”

Blankety Blank felt a creepy-crawly feeling tickle his black plating. The word came as a voiceless whisper, just on the edge of his perception.

“Blank,” Martial said, “what do you hear?”

“A… it’s a name.” Blankety Blank leaned against the wall. The green haze of dust shifted around him with every movement. Daring Do came close and rested a comforting hoof on his shoulder. He felt a small touch of warmth fill his heart. “Th-thanks.”

Daring gave him a slack smile. “Do you know whose name it is?”

“Y-yeah.” Blankety Blank caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He and Daring were reflected in a bronze plate attached to the shoulder-high divider. He examined his buggish face with a glower. “It’s an old one, but—”

“Mandible.”

“I… I—” He cleared his throat and projected his voice. “I’m here.”

“You’re home.”

“I’m home?” Blankety laughed. He pulled away from Daring and touched his reflection. “This thing is getting w-weirder by the sec—”

A low rumble rolled throughout the room.

Martial Paw drew his sword. “That sounded like a trap.”

“Or something worse.” Daring Do spread her wings. “You didn’t touch anything, did y—?”

The metal sparked beneath Blankety’s hoof. Pain shot up his leg. He yanked it back and shook it. “Ouch! What the—”

The rumble became an electric hum. Flashes lit the darkness all around them. Blankety felt power flowing all around, beneath their feet, over their heads, behind the walls. His heart thundered, though he wasn’t sure if it was from adrenaline or the sheer energy surrounding him. “How fast can we climb that rope?”

“Not fast enough!” Daring Do charged for the well. She slid to a halt inches away from the base when lightning arced from its metal lining.

Martial Paw took to the air. His wings flapped in a flurry to keep him aloft. He swiveled, brandishing his rapier. “I don’t see anything!”

Daring froze. She stared upwards, her mouth hanging open. She reached a limp wing out to pat Blankety’s shoulder. He followed her gaze and felt his own jaw unhinge.

Light poured from above. Hexagonal honeycombs covered the ceiling with glistening edges. Power—not electricity, but pure magic—coursed through them. The stone took on an amber hue, as if coated with a thick layer of honey. Magic crackled everywhere there was bronze plating. The room came into view, large enough to hold Canterlot Castle with space to spare. Several bridges spanned the distance between them and the other side, all made from stone with a metal railing.

Blankety blinked. “So. Do we assume that the city likes me, o-or what?”

Daring coughed dust, her head flicking back and forth. “I don’t trust inanimate objects with a mind of their own.”

On the far wall, gears and levers shifted of their own accord. The heavy chook-chook of oversized clockwork struck a chord deep in Blankety’s heart.

Daring Do’s ears drooped to either side of her head. “Time Turner would love this place.”

“I’m finding a lot to love about it, myself.” Martial Paw slid his sword into its sheath. He ambled over to the bridge and tested it with his claw. “Shall we investigate?”

Daring bobbed her head. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so. Lead the way, Marty.”

Blankety Blank walked beside Daring, just behind Martial. The three of them trekked across the bridge, their eyes taking in everything they could. The gear-work extended to all four wall of the rectangular room, rumbling and clacking. There was nary a stutter in their revolutions; they linked and turned as smoothly as if they had been expertly maintained.

Blankety’s tongue slithered. “There’s n-no way this is a city. It’s go-gotta be something else.”

“If the pyramid’s just a giant time-piece—” Daring Do paused for a moment to push aside a cobweb. “—then the ancient changelings definitely went a liiittle overboard.”

Blankety Blank turned his attention to the bridge. Every few meters, a short pillar jutted up from the railing, each one etched with the likeness of a changeling. He hopped up and fluttered his wings to look over the edge. The ground below was one large, stone floor, littered with rubble and machine parts. Every once in a while, he caught sight of a larger construct of metal and wood, broken down for countless ages.

“They were b-big into mechanical de-devices.” Blank rubbed his chin with a clawed hoof. “Transportation? Or t-tools, maybe?”

“We’ll have to take a closer look when we have a full team.” Daring Do sat down in the middle of the bridge and rubbed her knees. “Water break, guys. The professor requires a water break.”

She popped the top from her canteen and took a deep swig. “You guys thinking what I’m thinking?”

Blank shrugged. “That ancient changelings had too much time on their hooves?”

She rolled her eyes. “That this is the single biggest archeological find since the Crystal Empire reappeared! So much of this place is pristine. Pristine! We know absolutely no concrete facts about the First Age, let alone changelings in general. With this city/gearbox thing, we’ve opened up an entire chapter of history.”

She chuckled and leaned her back against a pillar. “Ahuizotl or not, I’m willing to call this something close to the best day ever.”

Martial Paw sat on his haunches and tapped his talons against the hilt of his sword. “May I just say, Dr. Do, thank you for inviting me on this historic expedition.”

“Any time, Marty!” Daring raised her drink. “To discovering ancient treasures!”

Martial raised his water bottle, his smile wide. “To discovering ancient treasures!”

Blankety fumbled for his own canteen. He found it sitting between his wings, its strap tangled around his neck. He batted it around with his hoof and tried to nudge it into reach. After a fruitless moment had passed, Martial took the canteen between his talons and handed it to the changeling.

“Thanks.” Blankety let out a weak laugh and tapped his drink against theirs. “To discovering st-stuff and other stuff.”

Martial corked his bottle. “How are we doing on time?”

Daring Do pulled a silver pocket watch from her below her collar. “Yeah, it’s probably time to get moving if we wanna get back before they start sending up flares. Shoot. I wanna see what this place is.” She gave him a steely stare. “I wanna find that dagger, Marty.”

She stood up and cracked her back. “At the least, I want solid proof that Ahuizotl stole it first.”

“Help.”

Blankety’s ears flared out; he stretched the webbing tight to catch the most sound, though he knew it wouldn’t help with the decidedly magical communication he was receiving. “I hear a v-voice again.”

“Oh joy.” Daring Do gritted her teeth. “What’s it want?”

“Help me.”

“It’s asking for help…” Blankety’s multifaceted eyes tingled. The words were different; they had an actual voice, like it was the plea of a living pony. Or a dead one. “It sounds different, like it’s not the same sp-speaker as before.”

Martial Paw’s eyes trailed upward. He stood up and drew his sword in one smooth motion, lowering himself into a combat-ready stance. “Blank. Be very careful how you move.”

Blankety Blank sighed. His wings drooped as his leg muscles tensed. “There’s something right behind me, isn’t there?”

“Help me.”

Daring Do edged away. Her ears lay back as her wings spread. “You remember how I said a lot of the stuff around here is pristine?”

“Uh huh.”

“I was super-right.” Daring gave him a devilish grin. “When I say ‘go,’ jump forward as fast as you can. Marty and I’ll handle it. Alright?”

“W-whatever you say, Doc.” Blankety swallowed despite his dry throat. “Um. Just say when.”

“Help me.”

Daring lunged. “Now!”

Blankety Blank leaped head-first towards the bridge’s wall, passing both Martial and Daring. He ducked, rolled and came up on all four hooves. He spun around and bared his fangs, hoping to frighten whatever it was.

Little chance of that, he decided.

It was an automaton; a machine made to move on its own. It was made from a bronze alloy, though silvery components could be seen in its core and its six legs. Each leg ended with a sharpened, curved tip, like a scimitar. Its body was separated into three clockwork-driven segments. Its head held sharp pincers in the place of a mouth, and its eyes were glowing red embers. It chattered and clacked as Martial jabbed at it with his sword.

“Help me,” the voice said. “Kill me.”

It balanced on three legs and lifted the others into the air. Its blades crossed with Martial’s, clanging and hissing with each swipe. Daring came alongside it and clobbered it with a punch that would have sent a full-grown stallion sprawling. The apparatus wobbled, but stood firm.

Martial hopped onto the wall with a flap of his wings. A lung brought his sword tip through the automaton’s head. The machine skittered away, two raised legs shielding its eyes. Sparks flickered between its pincers.

Daring Do used the wall to propel herself onto the machine’s back. She rained blow after blow down on its casing. It wriggled and bucked, its limbs flailing.

“Kill me.”

“There’s something al-alive in there!” Blankety shouted.

“Not for long!” Daring snapped. She gripped the automaton’s casing and pulled. A panel came free. “Aha! This looks important!”

The rest of the bronze creation’s back opened of its own accord. Daring was thrown away as a long, black cylinder popped out, connected to the automaton’s abdomen. The tip of the cylinder glowed bright purple and aimed straight for Martial. A lance of power leaped forth.

Martial threw himself from the bridge just before the stone became a cloud of dust.

The automaton swiveled to keep both Blank and Daring in its sights. It brandished its scimitars and angled its cannon, charging for a second shot.

Blankety Blank raced past its defenses and clobbered it in the face. It reared up and dragged its blades across his hard chitin, leaving less than a scratch. Blankety continued to push it back, his cloven hooves digging at the soft metal on its head.

“Kill me,” the voice whispered. “Help me.”

Gears ground. With a mighty shove, the automaton pushed Blankety onto his back. He stared up at the mechanized insect as it lifted a blade to stab him through the heart.

Martial’s blade struck first. The point found a chink in the automaton’s armor and dug in, knocking gears and springs out of alignment. The machine’s head spun independently of its body and closed its pincers around the middle of the rapier. There was a jolt of energy, a quick twist, and a metallic snap.

Martial gaped at the hilt of his sword. The blade had been cut completely in half. “It ate my sword.”

The cannon whirred. Daring Do galloped to grab it by its barrel. “Marty! Watch yourself!”

A bolt of energy careened towards the ceiling. It exploded against the hexagonal lights, sending several honeycombs into darkness. Martial dropped his severed hilt. “It ate my favorite sword!”

The automaton locked Blankety in a cage made from its six legs. He twisted his torso until something snapped, then slithered his way out of the trap. He stood up, snapped his body back into place, and shivered.

Daring Do stuck her tongue out. “You changelings are really gross, you know that?”

“Kill me.”

More gears ground together as the machine failed to keep up with its motors. It swung two blades, nearly lopping Daring’s wings off. She retaliated with a right hook that sent its head spinning. Blankety followed up with a buck to its chest. The automaton staggered next to the edge of the bridge, magic leaking from every broken gearbox and every dented plate.

“Help me.”

Blanekty Blank looked at the automaton. He stared into its burning eyes, searching for some sign of life. Aside from the magic powering its movement, all he saw was cold metal.

“Save me.”

Martial Paw grasped the machine with his talons, hoisted it over the wall, and let it drop to the floor dozens of meters below.

It exploded into hundreds of components with a metallic shriek.

Daring Do leaned over the edge, her pith helmet at a haphazard angle. “Well that was awesome.”

Martial Paw pinched his severed hilt between his index talon and thumb. He sighed and stuffed it into a small sack at his side. “It would have been more fun if it wasn’t trying to kill us.”

“You kidding me?” Daring Do’s lips curled into an evil grin. “Risking life and limb is half the fun.”

Blankety Blank listened. He listened really, really hard. There wasn’t even a whisper left of the voice. “We killed it. It stopped talking.”

Daring Do frowned. “That’s the thing that’s been whispering in your ear?”

“One of th-them…” Blankety bit into his lower lip with his sharp fangs. “I’m going down there. I n-need to see what it is.”

Daring Do narrowed her eyes. She nodded slowly. “Yeah. Okay. I’m coming down, too.” She pointed a wingtip at both of them. “But you guys get to carry me back up, capisce?”

“As always,” Martial said, “I hear and acquiesce.” He spread his wings to their full length and stepped off the bridge. He spiraled downward, descending a meter at a time.

Daring followed him down in like manner. Blankety buzzed as fast as his wings could carry him. It was several minutes before they could all safely set foot on the bottom floor of the ruin.

Daring kicked a bauble that had spilled from the automaton’s mechanical guts. “Just junk now. Impressive, scientifically-relevant junk, but still junk.”

Martial Paw lifted a bladed leg. He wiggled the joint and nodded. “I’ve rarely seen devices this complex, even in Equestria. This thing seemed alive.” He raised an eyebrow at Blank. “Which fits pretty well with what you’ve been saying.”

“Y-yeah.” Blankety Blank tiptoed through the debris, headed towards the largest chunk left from the impact. “I h-ha-hate being right.”

Blank reached a hoof out and touched the casing. A jolt ran up and down his foreleg, sending a chill of ice through his heart. He choked on his own spit and sat down hard, coughing. “Th-there’s s-something in there. Something… It’s terrified.”

Martial Paw and Daring Do met each other’s gaze. Martial strode forward and gripped the bronzed casing between his talons. He twisted as he lifted, pulling the plating away.

A small, blue gemstone sat in the center of a silk-lined cavity. Copper wires snaked around it, wrapping themselves around the stone or spreading throughout what was left of the automaton. A jagged crack ran through the center of the gem.

The gem faded, shade by shade, from bright blue to black.

Blankety Blank brought his nose closer. The icy terror returned, but was weakening. “Wh-what is it?”

Daring Do’s mouth dipped open. She pulled the copper wires away, twisting and breaking them, to set the gemstone free. She lifted it in her hooves and held it before her face. “Creator on High…”

Martial Paw clasped his talons. “So it’s some sort of idol, then?”

“I was cursing, Marty.” She held the stone up. “Look at it. Look at the shape. What does it look like?”

Martial clicked his beak. He turned his head to the side so that he could examine the stone straight-on. “It’s a crystal growth. Quartz-like in appearance. Originally blue, as far as we can tell, but changing to a black coloration. Pointed at one end, with two rounds on the other. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it looked like a Hearts-and-Hooves-style heart.”

Blankety Blank felt a weight pull at his chest. “Oh no.”

Daring Do set her jaw. She shook the gemstone. “A moment ago, this thing was pouring magic into that machine. A second ago, Blankety felt blinding terror pouring out of it. It’s shaped like a heart, Marty.”

Martial Paw’s beak parted. “You don’t mean—”

The gemstone became completely black. It crumbled into dust and fell from Daring’s hoof. “Ahuizotl found the Spade of Hearts,” she said. “And he’s already started using it.”

***

Daring Do ran through the ruins at top speed, searching for some sort of alcove, a side-room, an antechamber… something! There had to be something she missed. There had to be a mistake. She had to have beaten Ahuizotl. She needed to beat him this time.

“I’m such an idiot!” She peeked around a corner to find a blank wall. “I should have looked for the dagger by myself! I would have found it first!”

“That would be suicide, Dr. Do!” Martial flew behind her—keeping a minimum safe distance, Daring guessed. “You had to get an expedition together! Nopony can survive the jungle alone!”

“I could have!” Daring leaped over a mangled and mutilated insectoid automaton that had lain dormant since the city fell. “If I can survive the freaking timeline almost turning inside-freaking-out, I can freaking live in the freaking jungle by my freaking self!”

“Doc, it’s okay!” Blankety’s wobbly voice came from a few meters back. Try as he might, he just wasn’t as fast as she was. “W-we still have the entire ruin to st-study and explore! We can r-report back to—”

“The whole reason we came,” Daring said, “was to get that horseapple-encrusted dagger!”

Her hooves scuffed the dusty ground. She heaved in breaths as her legs ached. She had to sit down. She had to take a drink. She guzzled the rest of her canteen with greedy slurps.

Martial landed in front of her and laid his talons on her shoulders. “Doctor… Daring. Please. Think about this. We’ve been in tight situations before, but we’ve always come out on top.”

Daring Do scowled. “Maybe you have. Not all of us can be so lucky.”

“I…” Martial lowered his forelegs. He stared at the ceiling and let a whoosh of air run out of his chest. “You’re right. I’m sorry. But we can still defeat him. There’s got to be hope, right?”

Daring Do dropped the canteen. She took a moment to let her lungs stop burning before speaking. “A pony’s magic comes from the heart, Marty. It’s where we start. It’s the soul of a pony. It’s what makes us who we are.”

She pulled her helmet off and let it clatter to the dust. “And now Ahuizotl has the power to take all that away. To use ponies for whatever he wants… like the attack bug back there. We don’t even know who that was, except that it used to be a pony.”

Blankety cantered up. He sat down beside her and fidgeted with his wings. “It asked us for help. It said it wanted us to kill it. It said that’s what would save it.”

Daring Do shut her eyes. She could feel stinging tears collecting at the corners. “Ahuizotl’s end goal has always been to control the sun. Whatever he wants the dagger for, it’s going to lead towards that.”

Martial picked at a stray feather. He held it before his eyes. “He wants hearts for a power source.”

Blankety furrowed his brow. He slapped a hoof against his knee. “Then we’re gonna st-stop him. Together.”

Daring stood up. She rested her wings against her sides and deliberately set her pith helmet on her head. “Darn right. First things first—finding out where the dagger was. Then, we can start tracing his steps.”

Blankety’s ear twitched. He turned his head to the ceiling. “The first voice is back.”

Daring Do flicked her hoof at Martial, who took out a pad of paper and a pen. “Alright,” she said. “What’s it telling you?”

“It says…” Blankety scrunched his snout. “It says the thing we’re looking for—I guess that’s the Spade of Hearts—is gone, but I can show you guys where it was.”

“Good.” Daring Do patted Blankety’s back. “Lead the way.”

They moved at a steadier pace through the ruin, much to the relief of Daring’s muscles. Old injuries were catching up with her again; she’d have to take some ambrosia when they got back to camp. That was the problem with an exciting life, she thought. Sometimes, it hurt a lot.

She touched the pocket watch hidden beneath her shirt. Sometimes, it hurt in more ways than one.

An archway stood out from the wall, quite a ways from the entrance to the ruin. A hallway tunneled beneath the stone, well lit with honeycomb lanterns. Daring took point, her eyes, ears, and nose alert.

A podium sat at the end of the hall, topped with an empty scabbard. Daring snarled; it was exactly the right shape for the dagger they were looking for. So close, yet…

Words were scrawled across the wall behind it—long, coarse letters cut deep into the stone and then covered in red. It was a message to her personally. A message from her greatest foe.

YOU LOSE DARING DO

“That’s one I owe you, Ahuizotl,” she growled. “But I’ll make you pay in blood.”

***

Canterlot was a whirl of activity. Soldiers stomped through the streets. Shopkeepers locked up their goods. Airships departed from the harbor as fast as their propellers could spin. Pedestrians scrambled for cover.

Princess Mi Amore Cadenza peered down from the walls of Canterlot Castle. She pressed her lips tight to hold back the sigh threatening to burst from her chest. “Yep. Great time for a vacation, Shiny. I especially like the mass panic coupled with the inevitable Equestria-wide hysteria.”

Her husband stood at attention beside her, in full armor, five javelins strapped to his back. He smirked, never taking his eyes from the road. “It could be worse.”

“We might be looking at war.”

Shining Armor furrowed his brow. Pegasi descended to take up position beside him. “Are the kids safe?”

“Yes.” Cadenza saw a procession of soldiers line both sides of the path to the castle gates. Her wings itched to get airborne. “All three of them are at Twilight’s castle. Your mom’s looking after them with her own personal army.”

Shining nodded. “Mom knows how to throw her weight around. Thank you.”

“You’ll have to thank her when this is over.” Cadenza winced as the reason for the panic marched into view. The guards kept their distance as they escorted the dark creatures, their spears never wavering from their targets. There had to be twenty of them, all chittering and buzzing, all clawing their way across the pavement: Changelings.

“You okay, Cadence?”

Her stomach churned as thoughts of the changelings plowed through her memories. A dark cave, a vicious fire, a cackling madcreature. Cadence’s own face, contorted into a wicked leer. Locked in a pit of shadows with no hope of escape. Life ebbing away with every moment…

Cadenza anchored herself to her husband’s blue eyes. They were warm, and trusting, and trustworthy. Steady and unyielding. She had backup. She had allies. She didn’t have to fear the changelings.

A shade of blue flashed above. Princess Luna flew overhead, bedecked in golden armor and flanked by batponies. Strength overcame Cadence’s unease. She was not alone.

Cadence propped her forelegs on the battlements and shouted down. “Changelings! Why have you openly come to Canterlot?”

The changeling leading the group was taller than the others. She walked forward on lanky, perforated legs. Her wings fluttered, though not enough to lift her off the ground. She may have wobbled in her walk, but Cadence was too far away to be sure.

The changeling’s mane was silky. Spidery. Unkempt, but with an ethereal beauty that caused it to glow with a pinkish hue. Its face was angular, save for a roundness at the tip of the muzzle. In every other respect, it was a smaller match to the crazed laughter that haunted Cadence’s worst nightmares.

The changeling queen bent at the knee and lowered her head. She spoke loudly, enough so that all the soldiers could hear her clearly. “I am Queen Chrysalis the Second, ruler of the Changeling Kingdom, Mistress of the Badlands. I have come to seek an audience with the High Princesses of Equestria.”

“No horseapples,” Shining Armor said under his breath.

Any other time, Cadence might have cracked a grin. She glowered at the changeling queen, who shared a name with her most hated foe. “For what purpose do you seek this audience, Queen Chrysalis?”

The changeling swallowed. She spoke again in a warbly voice, a low buzz overlaying her words. “I wish—” Her words hitched. “—I wish to broker peace and friendship with the Kingdom of Equestria.”

Cadence considered what to say. “Heck no, sister” was at the top of the list. “Eat buffalo chips” was also considered. Years of training conditioned her to take the more diplomatic route. “What proof do you offer that your wishes are sincere?”

“We come to you laid bare, with no weapons, disguises, or pretenses.” Queen Chrysalis II spread her forelegs. She leaned over until her forehead touched the pavement. “I surrender myself into your custody until the negotiations have concluded.”

Cadence stared at the changeling. She snapped her mouth shut before she could reveal that she had been gaping. The unease returned to her stomach and made its way through the rest of her digestive system. “Um…”

Chrysalis II lifted her head slightly. She glanced to the right and the left before looking up with big, pink eyes. “Please?”

That was not an expression she’d ever seen on the first Chrysalis. It was more like the ones her children made when they were caught doing something naughty. And for Chrysalis II, maybe she was doing something wrong.

Cadence put some oomph into her command. “Open the gates!”

A loud groan accompanied the massive doors. The changelings were led inside at something slightly less than spear-point. The gate slammed shut, sealing the changelings in.

Shining Armor nudged his armored shoulder against Cadence’s barding. “You sure that was a good idea?”

“What choice do we have after that display?” Cadence hissed. “If there’s any chance of this working, we are morally obligated to take it.”

Cadence watched from the wall top as the Captain of the Canterlot Royal Guard appeared to escort the changeling entourage. They’d be taken to rooms, fed as well as they could be, and then summoned when the meetings were to begin. Her flanks itched beneath her armor.

Shining grimaced. “The other world leaders are gonna have something to say.”

“Oh good. Visitors. Celestia will be thrilled.”

He pulled off his helmet and shook his blue mane free. He set his jaw and gave Cadence a sidelong glance. “My gut says there’s something we missed. Something important.”

“We’ll give them one chance,” she said. “One chance, because they deserve at least that.”

“And if it’s a trick?”

Cadence smiled, but it definitely wasn’t genuine. “Then we’ll see just how fast things can go to Hell.”

The Siren Song of Ponyville

Ponyville Talent Show Draws Crowd

Ponyville has certainly impressed in the last few years. As the city has become the fastest-growing in Equestria, its events and holidays have drawn national attention. Ponies travel from all over the country to experience its down-to-earth Winter Wrap-Up, its princess-blessed Nightmare Night, and its irresistibly charming Hearth’s Warming Eve Pageant.

The Bi-Annual Ponyville Talent Show, beginning just next week, has promised to be one of the high-points in the city’s calendar year. Not only will some of the most brilliant acts in the country be put on display, but according to inside sources, hometown radio darling Sweetie Belle will debut her newest single, “The First Dance.”

The latest dish on the current guest list includes such recognizable high-society names as Fancy Pants, Mayor of Canterlot, and Gaston Fletcher, Mayor of Cloudsdale. Rumors that Princess Celestia herself will be in attendance have remained unsubstantiated.

If you can, I recommend making travel plans for Ponyville this summer. It’s full of big-time heroes and small-town charm and, as always, remains my number-one choice for a vacation in Equestria.

—Excerpt from “What’s Trending with Trenderhoof,” originally published in The Manehattan Big

***

Button Mash took his seat on the open field, a single red rose clutched in one hoof. He was far from the only pony in attendance of Ponyville’s talent show. A sea of colors surrounded him on every side, joking, jostling, and jumping. Ponies weren’t the only species on display, either. Diamond dogs walked beside griffons, breezies sat astride sheep, donkeys and minotaurs laughed together. Their numbers were smaller by sheer volume, but there was no denying the variety from all across Equestria.

His suit was a little too tight around the barrel. Because of course it was. Never mind that he was a beanpole of a pony who couldn’t put on weight if he tied barbells to his fetlocks. No Rumble, Button thought, not everybody has it in them to be buff. He tugged at his shirt collar and sat up straight to keep the rental coat from getting grass stains.

His mother assured him he looked snappy, but then, she was his mom. It was her job to say stuff like that.

“Focus, Button. Focus.” He took in a slow breath and wheezed it out. He gazed at the rose and held it like it might shatter. “This is the day, the hour, the time. It’s what you’ve been preparing for. You’re ready. Relax and enjoy the show.”

Relax, he thought. Sit back and enjoy it, he thought. Strange as it was, he had a difficult time believing his own pep talk.

Applejack—the Lord Mayor of Ponyville herself—walked onto the park’s humble wooden stage, a microphone stand slung beneath her foreleg. She set it up and tapped the head, eliciting a squeal that sent ears folding back against scalps. “Sorry. Welcome, one and all, to the Bi-Annual Ponyville Talent Show!”

Hooves and paws slapped together. Feet drummed into the ground. A few shrill whistles shot into the air.

“Darn tootin’!” Applejack shouted. “The first contestant in this season’s show is a pony real near and dear to my heart. I’ve known her since she was just about yea high—” She lifted a hoof to her knees. “—but I could always tell she had somethin’ special in store. She’s a show-stopper and no mistake! Give it up for the musical stylin’s of Sweetie Belle!”

The applause rose past polite and entered a fever pitch. Button Mash stomped his free hoof against the soil, shouting for all he was worth. Darn right he’d give it up. He and every other sapience in the crowd. For many, this was why they’d come. For others, this is why they’d come back. There was a reason Sweetie Belle opened every show she attended. A very, very good reason.

Button mash didn’t even register the moment Applejack left the stage. His eyes were locked on Sweetie Belle. Gentle curves trailed from her shoulders to her tail. She walked with a practiced grace, her hips swaying with each step. Her curly mane bounced as she took a bow.

The applause died down, and the audience became quiet enough to hear a cough from across the field.

Sweetie Belle brought her face close to the mic. Her small, frameless glasses glinted in the spotlight. She bobbed as a simple piano melody reached out towards the crowd.

Her face glistened with sparkles. Her thin, white dress wafted in an early-summer breeze. Button felt his heart take a nose-dive in his chest. He was crazy. He was nuts. There was no way—

Her silvery voice spread softly across the audience, robbing him of cognitive thought.

“I saved the first dance for you, dearest love
A waltz or minuet will do
Close to each other, we’ll be ever true
I saved the first dance for you”

The stage thrummed as though filled with magic. A clear, strong voice carried her words. A stringed instrument joined the keys as she entered the chorus.

“Would you save the first dance for me?
Whispering promises, kisses so sweet
Would you save the first dance for me?
Open the depths of your heart
And let our love be”

Button flinched at an unexpected flash of red. The unicorn beside him lit their horn, the air becoming hazy around the corona. To the right, a pegasus spread their wings. Dew drops flicked from their feathers. All around, dust rose at earth pony hooves, and grass blades danced of their own accord.

Her voice reached a high note as she moved into the second verse. Button heart thrummed all the harder, though for a different reason. The entire audience was thick with magic pouring out of pony hearts. It thrummed in time with her voice, rising and falling with her pitch-perfect notes. No one was left unaffected.

“I saved the first dance for us, dearest one
I gave up my heart to your trust
Your cheek against mine, we do as we must
I saved the first dance for us”

Sweetie’s voice returned to its softest as she reached its end.

“Would you save the first dance for me?
Whispering promises, kisses so sweet
Would you save the first dance for me?
Open the depths of your heart
And let our love be”

The last notes of the song disappeared before the audience erupted into frenzied cheers.

Button Mash was bumped out of his reverie by the unicorn beside him, whose whistle was a decibel or two away from shattering glass. Button rubbed his overheated forehead. His skin prickled and his lungs ached from yelling.

There was a very good reason Sweetie Belle sold out concerts.

Sweetie Belle ducked off the stage, replaced soon after by Lord Mayor Applejack. “Hoo-ee! Was that a performance or was that a performance? Don’t go away Ponyville; we’ve got a whole lot more show where that came from! Next up is Peachy Pie and Sunny Daze, with their acrobatic rollerblading act!”

Button felt the old, familiar tremble in his limbs. He glanced at the door to the stage, where the contestants and/or performers were gathered, awaiting their turn.

He could try to sneak his way in. Say hi and encourage her. Or something. It wasn’t much of a plan, really.

He held the rose close and stayed put. He’d have his chance, and one that was less likely to get him thrown out by the bouncer. Bulk Biceps had this way of smiling that discouraged shenanigans.

Peachy Pie and Sunny Daze rolled onto the sage in a blur, leaping over each other at speeds that would have left him rumpled and bloody on the floor. At the very least, he reasoned, watching the show would give him time to collect his thoughts. Decide how he was gonna broach the subject. Get up the nerve.

He couldn’t escape the feeling that he was only fooling himself.

***

The light of a cigarette broke through the shadows at the edge of the field, where Ponyville Park became Whitetail Wood. A cloud of smoke wreathed the head of a pony, who watched the talent show closely. He leaned against a tree, scratching the stubble on his chin.

The tip of his cigarette charred and released a stream of smoke and nicotine into his mouth. He puffed slowly, savoring the familiar sensation. It was a good night to spend outside, he decided. The sky was an open sea filled with sparkling diamonds. The grass was a sheet of the finest silk against his hooves. A velvety breeze tugged the cloud of smoke away from his head.

He sat a fair distance away. No point in disturbing ponies with his smoke, after all. He wasn’t there to be noticed. A jovial tune played over the audience’s cheers as two ponies rollerbladed past the curtains. He clapped his hooves after an especially impressive jump.

“Hello, Poni,” a mare’s voice said behind him. “I thought you preferred pipes.”

Poni Caballeron smiled. He slicked back his black mane with a hoof. “I use a pipe when I celebrate. To relax. I’m working at the moment.”

Merry Mare slunk out of the shadows. Her tail swished with practiced movements. Caballeron felt like a snake entranced by a charmer.

“Working?” she said, sliding her forelegs over his shoulders and across his chest. “That’s no fun.”

He reached his foreleg up and felt her mane against his coat. They watched the show continue, though Caballeron didn’t pay it much attention. “Working is what keeps me going these days, my heart.”

“You need a hobby, Poni.” Merry let out a single laugh from the back of her throat. “You need to come back to Ponyville more often.”

“With how often Yearling hangs around these days?” Caballeron shook his head. He scratched his cheek and let out a gray huff. “I’m a passionate lover, not a suicidal one.”

“I didn’t even know you were in town.” She lifted a hoof to grip his shoulder. It was a surprisingly strong grip, even for an earth pony. He allowed the contact, though he would probably bruise. “Scuttlebutt had to inform me. When were you going to say something?”

Ah, so the interrogation had already begun. It was to be expected, and fairly light in terms of what Merry was capable of. “When the job was done, I’m afraid. I don’t want to involve you.”

Her grip slacked. He saw her lips twitch, as if holding back a response she didn’t want to give. “Why the secrecy?” she asked at last.

“The treasure-hunting business has become more dangerous in recent months.” Caballeron’s throat bobbed as she wrapped her legs tight around him. “Jobs are more difficult to come by. At times, desperate individuals pay high salaries.”

He rolled his eyes and gave her a sad smile. “I swear, I’m going to give mercenaries a bad name.”

Merry set her jaw. “You’re working with Ahuizotl again, aren’t you?”

Caballeron chuckled mirthlessly. “You know me too well.”

Merry snorted. “Alright. What’s the plan this time? Steal the sun and drive it into the oceans? Cause the sun and moon to collide? Kidnap Daring Do and hang her upside-down over a pit of fire ants?”

Caballeron narrowed his eyes. The two ponies onstage linked forelegs and spun in a blur. “Now you’re just teasing me.”

“My point is that Ahuizotl is a madcreature.” Merry’s velvety ear touched his cheek. “He has no endgame worth seeing through. His gold is blood money, and his followers are morons.” She kissed his neck lightly. “Why bother yourself with all of that?”

He felt his heart sink. “Because he has me by the dock, to put it plainly. I am… obligated to assist him.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Then I’m afraid I am disinclined to give one.” He leaned back against her chest. His cigarette was little more than cinders on the edge of his lips. “Suffice it to say, this is the last time I’m taking a job from the monster.”

Merry let out a low murmur. He watched her eyes trailed down his body, studying his scars, tracing his cutie mark of a golden skull. “Why did he send you to Ponyville?”

A smile trailed across his face of its own accord. He pointed towards the stage. “Because of the opening act. That enchanting mare, to be precise.”

Merry Mare nudged the small of Caballeron’s back. “Should I be jealous?”

“She’s half my age, if that.”

“That’s what makes it scandalous.” Merry pursed her lips in a tight smile. “To hear her sing is quite the treat, is it not? The way her voice grasps you and guides you. The magic that seems to overflow from every facet. The light in your chest that begs to be let out.”

“Creating harmony.” Caballeron smothered the butt of his cigarette in the grass. “Igniting unity.”

“Unity right from the heart.” Merry tilted her head back, nudging her glasses into place on her nose. “Joining their magic to the music. A natural siren’s song.”

Caballeron felt his mouth grow dry. The familiar tune of his lover’s singing voice hummed at the edge of his memory. “Something very much like that.”

“So then,” she said, her breath tickling his ear, “what does Ahuizotl want with the ability to unite hearts, hmm?”

Caballeron reached into his shirt pocket and pulled a fresh cigarette forth. He struck a match against his hoof. “It’s for him to know, and us to fear, I suppose.”

“A lot of ponies are going to be upset with you if you do anything to hurt Sweetie.”

He leaned his head back and placed a kiss on Merry’s lips. “Story of my life, my heart. If all goes well, I’ll be long gone before anypony finds out.”

Merry ran her hoof down his cheek. “How long will that be?”

“As soon as possible.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Unless you had other plans?”

“I had a thought.” She kissed the tip of his nose, lingering a second longer than necessary. “Several fairly licentious thoughts.”

“Ah.” A ring of smoke drifted out of his smiling mouth. “Then perhaps my duty can be delayed a night. Or three.”

***

“Oh my gosh, that was amazing!”

Sweetie Belle laughed at Scootaloo’s exclamation. She sat before a vanity mirror, touching up her makeup. She gave a pair of contact lenses a wary glance before pushing them aside. “So you liked it?”

“Did I ever!” Scootaloo hovered overhead on purple-colored wings. She rubbed Sweetie’s shoulders with her orangey hooves. “Did you even see the audience? They were soaking up every word! I don’t think I’ve seen so many ponies stupefied at once.”

Sweetie blew a breath through her lips. “Then you don’t remember our old rock ballad.”

“That’s a different sort of stupification.” Scootaloo rolled her eyes upwards and pursed her lips. “Stupefaction. Stupidecaloosion. Whatever. Point is, they love you.”

Sweetie looked over her sparkling, soft face. She set her frameless glasses gingerly over her muzzle. “How did your act do? With the juggling?”

“You kidding?” Scootaloo grasped a bottle of water and poured it out over her hoof. The water tension held with the power of her pegsus magic, forming a bubble of liquid. She tossed it to herself, grinning wide. “They ate that up pretty good, too. Got a nice rainbow going for the finale. Dash woulda been jealous.”

Sweetie Belle leaned her forelegs against the vanity and rested her cheeks in her hooves. She stared into her reflected green-tinged eyes. “I wish our sisters could have been here tonight.”

Scootaloo mirror image grimaced for all of an instant before a smile broke through. “You know how it is. They’re doing important stuff. Cloudsdale isn’t gonna fix itself, you know.”

“It’s been a year and a half.” Sweetie shrugged. She took what was left of the water bottle and downed it in a single gulp. “I’m starting to think it’ll never be fixed.”

“Take a hit, keep on going.” Scootaloo laughed. “Old pegasus motto.”

“Since when?”

“Since I said so just now.”

Sweetie nudged Scootaloo with her knee. “Ageless wisdom, to be sure.”

The other performers clattered around as they cleaned up their gear, or spiffed up their clothes. Lyra waxed the strings of her lyre. Peachy Pie brushed her coat where it had ruffled beneath her skates. Spike hoisted his piano across his back with bulging muscles. A few out-of-towners stuck to the edges of the room, muttering amongst themselves or speaking uproariously of something or other.

Sweetie Belle balanced a tube of lipstick on a spark of magic. “Do you think I’ve got a future in this?”

Scootaloo cocked a brow. “’Scuse me whilst I consult with the fates.”

“Ha, ha.” Sweetie stuck her tongue out. “I mean really, this whole showbiz thing. Do you think I’m cut out for it?”

“Doooes it make you happy?”

“Yeah, most of it.”

“Dooo you wanna do it more?”

“More or less.”

Scootaloo flipped over to float on her back, her wings spread, her magic holding her a couple meters above the ground. “Then speaking as your friend, I think you should do what you wanna do if it makes you happy. I mean, you’ve always got sewing to fall back on.”

Sweetie twisted her seat to face her friend. “‘Clothes designer’ is a little more involved than just sewing.”

“By day, the simple burlap-clad seamstress of Ponyville!” Scootaloo covered the lower half of her face with a wing. “By night, the mysterious and alluring star of song and stage!”

Sweetie held back a snort. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“Ah, aha.” Scootaloo landed with a soft pat. “But I’ll never stop trying.”

A movement caught Sweetie’s eye over Scootaloo’s shoulder. Applejack walked through the backstage area, a male griffon following her closely. He wore a pricy-looking outfit of soft fabric and deep shades of red. His shoulder pads were far too poofy to be in style. They made a beeline to the vanity, waving to get her attention.

Sweetie Belle stood with practiced grace and bowed her head. “Mayor Applejack.”

“Howdy, Sweetie. You did real good tonight.” Applejack winked, tipping her ever-present hat. She stepped to the side and indicated the griffon. “Might I introduce a longtime acquaintance of mine: Lord Mayor Fletcher of Cloudsdale.”

“Call me Gaston,” the griffon said. He held a talon towards Sweetie Belle and took her hoof. The tip of his beak lightly kissed her fetlock. “Your performance was absolutely beautiful tonight, Miss Belle! Astounding and amazing both! So much so, in fact, that I was hoping to offer you a job.”

“A job?” Sweetie Belle moved to pulled her hoof away, but he didn’t quite let her go. She kept her smile bright regardless. “I am… I would certainly be willing to hear more.”

“Of course.” He led her by the hoof a few steps away from Applejack and Scootaloo, within eyeshot of the stage. He waved his free talon at the empty park. “As you might have heard, Cloudsdale has come under hard times recently.”

“Yes, of course.” Sweetie Belle bit her lower lip. She could feel her tail swishing beneath her skirt. “My sister was there when it happened.”

He looked at her with a lowered eyebrow, before comprehension dawned. “Lady Rarity, right? Lovely mare. Quite generous with her time.”

No kidding, Sweetie thought. “She always has been.”

Gaston nodded, bringing his free talon up to stroke a gold button on his shirt. He turned his head to the side so that he could look her right in the eye. “I am holding something of a gala to raise awareness of the needs of Cloudsdale. Ponies and creatures from all over the world will be there. If you’d like to, I want you to perform at the gala.”

Sweetie Belle blinked. Her mouth moved, but her voice all but failed her. “Huh?”

“There’ll be live musicians ready to learn your music. There’ll be a captive audience…” His sharp beak parted in a grin. “It could be a marvelous way for you to spread the word about your talent. Not only across Equestria, but all over the world! Think of it as a little paid advertising, and the Citystate of Cloudsdale is doing the paying.”

Her dry mouth interfered with her ability to process. “All over the world?”

“And then some, if my guest list has anything to say about it!” He chuckled at what he obviously thought was a rather clever joke.

She found it difficult to maintain eye contact, but she couldn’t tell if it was because she was dizzy, or because his eye kept moving. “Um. That… is a very generous offer, Mayor Fletcher—”

“Gaston please, Miss Belle.”

“—Mayor Fletcher…” She cleared her throat, giving her head a shake to clear the cobwebs. “May I ask what sort of performance you’d be asking for?”

“I figured I’d let you decide the song list,” he said. He picked a water bottle off a nearby cooler and offered it to her. “Care for a drink?”

“I’ll pass.”

He unscrewed the cap with two claws while the rest of his talon kept the bottle steady. “Probably lower-key stuff, like your song tonight. We can’t have your incredible voice overpowering the congenial, lucrative conversation.” He raised his head a bit, turning his eyes to the ceiling. “Though if I’m being honest, I wouldn’t exactly mind.”

He took a deep, long swig. “I’ll give you some time to think it over. Say, a week? Will you give me your answer next Saturday?”

“Um, well…” Sweetie Belle gave him a smile that didn’t quite feel sincere. “I’m sure I could come up with an answer by then.”

“Bravo!” He crushed the bottle before tossing it into a nearby garbage can. He leaned down to kiss her hoof once more. “I shall speak with you then.”

He released her and marched over to Applejack, striking up a conversation Sweetie couldn’t quite hear. The blood pumped through her ears, drowning out her surroundings, swirling in her head.

“Hay, Sweetie,” Scootaloo said, patting her back, “you okay? What did he want?”

“H-he wants me to sing.” Sweetie looked over her glasses. “For an audience from around the whole world.”

“Holy guacamole!” Scootaloo faced Sweetie, placing her forelegs across her shoulders. “Are you gonna do it?”

“I—I don’t know.” Sweetie furrowed her brow. Her lips trembled. “I dunno if I can do it.”

“Says the famous radio starlet!” Scootaloo came alongside her and touched a hoof to her chest. “Dude, trust me when I say this could be your big chance! Your time to shine! Your age of new dawning or something corny like that!”

A sea of faces appeared before Sweetie Belle’s mind’s eye, all screaming, all cheering, all jumping and rollicking. Her ears fell flat against her head. “Uh huh.”

“I mean, come on, you could easily be the next Coloratura!”

“Yep.”

“We’re talking super-famous! Bigger than Sapphire Shores! Bigger than Ritzy Glamour! Bigger than… than…” Scootaloo threw her forelegs in the air. “I dunno. Celestia!”

Sweetie Belle sat down in the middle of the floor, her tail sliding up to lie beside her leg. She let her shoulders droop with a huff. “I’d be the next person to leave Ponyville.”

“Well… well, yeah.” Scootaloo settled down and matched her friend’s pose, resting a wingtip against her foreleg. “But it’s not like you’d be away forever.”

“That’s what Rarity said.” Sweetie couldn’t bring herself to meet Scootaloo’s gaze. “And that’s what Rainbow said. But they aren’t here anymore. Their homes are somewhere else. And R—” She bit her tongue.

Scootaloo bobbed her head, leaning back and stretching. “Rumble, too. But he’s trying to come back. He wants to come back.” She laughed, but it sounded more like a cough. “I made him promise to.”

Sweetie Belle smiled and rested her forehead on Scootaloo’s shoulder. “Well of course he is when he has all of you to come back to.”

“Yeah, and that’s why all of them come back.” Scootaloo patted her back. “Their friends. Their families. The things that make life worthwhile. So chin up, alright? Nobody’s making you leave Ponyville forever.”

Sweetie smirked. “Who’d be around to keep you from flying into a barn door?”

“I resent that remark, as I resemble it.” Scootaloo hoisted Sweetie gently to her feet. “Come on, let’s get you home. You’ve got time to think it over, right?”

“A week.” Sweetie looked around the area. Most of the other performers had left, leaving only a few stragglers, such as themselves, behind. They walked past friend and stranger alike, headed for the door. “Home sounds good. It sounds very good.”

A flicker of her magic opened the door to the warm mid-spring night. She took a deep breath in and smelt flowers on the wind.

“Have a nice evening, you two,” Bulk Biceps said from his place beside the door.

“See yah, Snowflake,” Scootaloo said. “Have a good one—”

A fresh voice jumped out from beside the stage, accompanied by the frenzied patter of hooves on grass. “Sweetie! Sweetie Belle!”

Scootaloo flashed a glance over her shoulder, her purple bangs swishing in front of her eyes. “Ain’t you popular tonight?”

Sweetie followed her friend’s eyes, focusing on a particular young stallion making up his own one-pony stampede. It only took a second of studying his gait, build, and brief flashes of brown coat to identify him. “Button?”

He slid to a halt, his chest nearly bursting. He breathed heavily, and his head hung low. He lifted a hoof. “H—Hi.”

He clutched a hoof to his belly, puffing out his cheeks with every huff. “Pretty… Your songs was aweso—just, amazing. It was really great.”

Sweetie giggled, scraping a hoof along the ground. “So you noticed.”

Scootaloo looked from Sweetie, to Button, and back again. Her eyes widened with realization. “Oh hay, look! It’s a thing! A thing I should check out all by myself! Sweetie, you should stay right here and don’t even move while I go and check out that thing! I’ll just leave you two here all by yourselves! I’ll be right back after I check out the thing! Bye!”

She took off in a cloud of dust, leaving Sweetie to her own devices.

Sweetie Belle brushed a lock of mane behind her ear. “So you really liked it? Like, ‘liked it’ liked it?”

Button Mash’s throat did that little bouncy thing it always did when he was flustered. She couldn’t help but giggle when she saw it.

“Y-yeah!” he said, nodding a little faster than needed. “Yeah, of course. I loved it. Top ten, easily. Definitely, definitely upper tier stuff. Definitely.”

He reached for his jacket pocket with a snap of his hoof. He fumbled around for a little bit until he was able to hold out a single red rose. The stem was wrapped in cloth to keep the thorns from pricking his hooves. “Here. I got this for you to celebrate the show. I just… I saw it, and I thought…”

Sweetie Belle raised a shoulder and pressed her cheek against it. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He passed the flower into the soft glow of her magic. He watched with held breath as she sniffed it. “It made… It made me think of you.”

Sweetie’s cheeks prickled with heat. She might have said something if she could, but her words failed her yet again. She covered it up by taking another smell of the fresh, light perfume of the rose.

“I mean…” Button Mash ran a hoof through his spikey mane. “I was wondering… are you av—eh—available for dinner? Sometime? Next week? Maybe?”

His eyes popped right to the ground as he sat on his haunches, his forelegs a whirl of explanatory motion as he spiraled out of control. “If you’re not busy, of course. I understand if you’ve got a lot to do or just plain would rather not. I mean, you’re always working on something and I just figured hay why not—”

“Button.” The name came out as a stuttered sputter. “A-are you asking me on a date?”

He paused, his legs settling to the ground. He pressed his lips tight and nodded with a snap. His voice was small and just a little squeaky. “Uh huh.”

Her heart rumbled with a parade of magic. Her pulse roared through her neck and limbs. “Wh-where would you like to go?”

“The café,” he said in a rush. “Next week Wednesday. I’m putting on a show, but afterwards we, you know, we could eat together and stuff. If you wanna.”

“I wanna…” She shook her head to ward off the rush of dizziness. “I would be delighted. When is your show?”

“Just from four to five.” He cleared his throat, rubbing his foreleg with the opposite hoof. “I’ll see you there?”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” Sweetie remembered to smile, though only just. Her insides shook, but she kept the nervousness within, projecting an outward appearance of calm. Was it effective? She doubted it. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

He glanced at the sky. The full moon reflected in his pupils. “Getting late. I guess I gotta go.”

“Okay.” Sweetie brushed her curly mane back, even as another lock fell over her eyes. “Good night, Button.”

He gave her a wide, uneven grin, then scampered off towards downtown.

Sweetie Belle watched him go until he disappeared behind the distant buildings. She giggled. It rolled down her throat to become a full fledged laugh that carried across the park.

Scootaloo flapped to a halt beside her. “Wow. You’ve got it bad.”

“Shush!” Sweetie turned away, her tail hiked. “I’ll have you know that I merely anticipate that he shall be good company.”

“Oh I totally believe you.” Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “How long’ve you been crushing on him? Ten years? Twelve?”

Sweetie scrunched her muzzle. Her tiny smirk parted her lips. “Since I was eight?”

“Eleven years, then.” Scootaloo huffed and pushed Sweetie gently along by her shoulders. “All I can say, girl, is that it’s about time he did the stallionesque thing. Because you sure as heck weren’t gonna say anything.”

“I was waiting.” Sweetie outpaced Scootaloo’s shove by breaking into a trot. “For the opportune moment.”

“Oh! The opportune moment!” Scootaloo smacked her forehead. She floated along with halfhearted downbeats, more hovering than flying. “Excuse me, it all makes sense now! That’s a perfectly good reason to wait! The all-elusive opportune moment!”

“Neither of us,” Sweetie said, “have been in any sort of position for a relationship until now.”

“Says the gal who was presented with two potentially life-changing decisions in the space of thirty minutes.”

Sweetie’s horn flashed. Her magic gripped the tip of Scootaloo’s tail and yanked her downward. “Oh shut up and be happy for me.”

Scootaloo landed with a canter. She flashed her a lopsided grin. “I am happy for you. I’m just genetically engineered to give everypony a hard time.”

Sweetie Belle nuzzled her cheek. “I’d be worried if you didn’t.”

They made their way through downtown, beneath the flickering magic-powered streetlamps. A building somewhat between a tent and a cupcake came into view, familiar and comforting. Sweetie produced a set of keys and clicked the door open, favoring her friend with one last smile. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow?”

“Sure thing!” Scootaloo hopped into the air and hung there. “Maybe I’ll be able to drag Apple Bloom away from the farm. We’ll have a grand old time.” A powerful flap of her wings launched her into the sky, towards her home down the street.

Sweetie Belle swung the door shut and leaned against the cool wood. Muffled music drifted from the phonograph in the Inspiration Room. It was an old Sapphire Shores album, originally a gift for Rarity, but soon passed down. Just like Carousel Boutique itself.

Sweetie rubbed sweat from her brow before it could run her sparkling makeup. She eased herself through the foyer—the showroom, really—past the full outfits on ponnequins. Some designs were Rarity originals. Some were put together by Coco Pommel in Manehattan, or were part of Sassy Saddles’ dabblings in Canterlot. A few, however, had Sweetie Belle’s name on the label.

Such as the dress on Sweetie’s back. She peeled it off piece by piece, laying it back on the ponnequin she’d gotten it from. She’d clean it tomorrow. When she wasn’t as tired. Maybe some lucky customer would see it and remember it from the show. She was often her best advertiser.

Her magic flickered. Wooziness rattled between her ears. She held her breath until the spike passed. She opened her eyes, having clenched them shut at the start of the flash.

A piece of the dress lay on the floor where she’d dropped it. She picked it up in her mouth and nudged it into place on the stand. She’d finish tomorrow. At the moment, she desperately needed medicine.

She trotted towards the stairs, upwards to the bedroom and bathroom. As funny as shape as Carousel Boutique had, the interior was fairly common in terms of Ponyville homes; a workplace on the ground floor, with living quarters on the second.

She passed a table on the way, in the waiting area for clients who weren’t currently trying on clothes—or who had to wait for their companions to decide on a design. Magazines lay scattered across it, featuring clothes from all over the kingdom and beyond. Sweetie glanced at them, her eyes drawn to one name that featured repeatedly.

Rarity Wows with Summer Lineup!

Tips on Spring Colors with Rarity!

Rarity to Design Twilight’s New Wardrobe!

Fashion Designer Opens Charity

She gave the last magazine a double-take. That one was over a year old, well worth retiring. She picked it up between her hooves, holding it close to her face. It didn’t seem right to throw it out.

She tucked it beneath her foreleg and hopped up the stairs. A quick walk took her to into the bathroom, in front of the medicine cabinet. Bottles and toothbrushes were pushed aside to reveal a tall, silver cylinder. She unscrewed the cap and poured a single milliliter into a cup.

The medicine glinted golden, and smelled of honey. It tasted like fire going down her throat, though. She could feel the very instant its healing power met her heart, and her whole body tingled as the effect spread. The magic pathways through her body—her fairy strings—expanded and strengthened. She tested her horn by lifting the magazine in a quick spell; it swayed to her whim.

Sweetie Belle yawned wide. Her joints were tight and her muscles ached; the bed couldn’t have called louder if it tried. She splashed water on her face and daubed until her coat was clean, then shuffled her way into her room.

The pillows felt like clouds of silk, and the covers enveloped her in a protective seal. She slid her glasses off to place them on her nightstand, next to the old magazine. The lights dimmed with a glistening spell.

Tomorrow had problems of its own, but for now, she could rest.

***

“Button! I say, Button Mash!”

Button Mash stumbled down the street, the top buttons of his shirt undone. He rubbed his mane once more for good measure, having tousled it beyond recognition. He paused under a street light so that the hailing pony could catch up with him. “Hay, Pip.”

Pipsqueak eyed him as he walked closer, examining Button Mash’s wrinkled tuxedo. “You look like you were on the wrong end of a funeral parlor brawl, chap.”

“Thanks.” Button looked down at his vastly shorter, vastly more muscular friend. A sardonic smirk crossed his face. “That means a lot coming from you.”

“Any time.” Pipsqueak nudged Button’s knee. “What’s with the getup? Awfully spiffy for an evening stroll.”

“I wanted to look nice.” Button resumed his walk. Pipsqueak pattered on to keep up with his longer strides. “For tonight’s talent show.”

Pipsqueak chuckled, his eyebrows dancing. “For the show, or for a certain mare in the show? Honestly, Button, when are you gonna stop dancing around the point and just ask her to—?”

“To dinner?” Button said, his voice a dull monotone. “Perhaps this Wednesday night? After my show? Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Pipsqueak’s smile faded. His brow furrowed. “You didn’t.”

“Yeah,” Button squeaked. “I did.”

“Well…” Pipsqueak’s eyes widened almost as much as his grin. “Well, bully! Jolly good for you, what ho! It’s high time you made forward movement with that whole thing! Wait—” He reached for Button’s shoulder, which was a few inches above his head. “Wait, did she say yes?”

Button’s voice cracked, so instead he just nodded.

“Top-hole!” Pipsqueak smacked Button across the side with a friendly hoof. It stung quite a bit. “You go-getter, you! You need my help making the evening perfect, just say the word! We’ll have music, dancing, home-made potato soup! Darned if there’s anything more romantic than potato soup!”

Button gave that a good long think. “What?”

“Leastwise that’s how Pa said he started his courtship with Mum.” Pipsqueak flicked a speckled ear. “It seems applicable to other circumstances…”

“I don’t think Sweetie’s overly impressed by potatoes.”

“Her loss.” Pipsqueak poked Button in the sleeve. “Seriously, though. Right on, mate. Good for you and all that muckety muck. What’s got you wandering around Ponyville after dark, though? Just a spell to clear your thoughts which I am rudely interrupting?”

“Kinda, but I don’t mind the interruption.” Button scratched the back of his neck. He was nearing his house, so he slowed his pace slightly, just to give the conversation more time to play out. “I’m mostly clearing my thoughts, but it isn’t working. I’m stuck between wondering if I made the right decision, or if I should have waited more, if I even have anything to offer, I dunno.”

He blew a raspberry and threw his head back. He narrowly missed a light pole, swerving with scrambling legs. “I asked… I asked Sweetie out because of sheer, desperate terror. I was scared I’d miss my chance and never see another, so I jumped. So… so what am I even doing?”

Pipsqueak shrugged. “What you want?”

“Thanks, I never woulda guessed.” Button Mash rested before the door to his home. He leaned against the frame, gazing at the moon. “What am I worth, Pip? What do I have to give? She’s gonna regret saying yes, I just know it.”

Pipsqueak rubbed his chin, pacing back and forth with small humming sounds. He clicked his hooves together. “Look at it this way, chap. You offered her a choice, yes?”

“Uh huh.”

“And she made a choice, then?”

“Yup.”

“Well, then.” Pipsqueak reached up to wrap his foreleg around Button’s neck. “Experience tells me that it’s best to let ponies make their own decisions. You offered her the conundrum, she made her selection, and now your job is to show her she was right.”

Button sighed. “No pressure.”

“None whatsoever.” Pipsqueak swept his hoof in an arc. He gave Button an extra squeeze before releasing. “Point of it is, I imagine she said yes because she happens to like your charmingly goofy self. So just be your charmingly goofy self and you’ll be set. Right?”

“Sounds logical to me.” Button Mash chuckled, his knees knocking. “Which should be the first sign to worry.”

“You’ll do fine!” Pipsqueak flicked his head and carried on down the road. “Just believe in yourself a little! And come to me for any and all advice!”

“Yeah, sure!” Button waved, his teeth grinding a little. “I’ll enthrall you with the after-disaster report!”

“Confidence, wot!”

Button Mash laughed lightly. He pushed the door open and pulled off his suit. He hung it gingerly on the back of a chair, then proceeded to set up his ironing board.

He’d finally done it. He’d finally saved up enough for his own house. It was small, tucked between two stores on Mane Street, but it was cozy. One bedroom, one bathroom, and one kitchen. More like a glorified apartment, if he was being honest.

Hay, it wasn’t like his job at the theater paid more than the peanuts he served.

He slumped into a chair and waited for the iron to heat up. Magic power flowed from the siphons in the wall, through a wire, and to the metal plate. He wasn’t about to iron the tux, that’d require special cleaning, but the cotton shirt could use a good flattening. He’d only worn it once; it’d be good for another day without a wash.

The clock chimed eleven with a merry little jingle. A gift from his mom, naturally enough, decorated with images of Daring Do and Ahuizotl, straight from the film adaptation of the book series. It played a music box version of the theme song every hour on the hour. He hummed along with it until the key wound down.

A picture of his family hung beside and below the clock. There was his mother, his father, his older brother, and himself at eight years old, eleven years ago. He snorted when he saw his rounded, babyish face. He still had that little beanie hat with the propeller, though if he wore it in public, he’d never hear the end of it from Snips and Pipsqueak. Or his brother, come to think of it. Assuming he was coming home any time soon.

Button hung the shirt in his tiny closet, then set about halfheartedly brushing his teeth. He had a long week to prepare for, between work, his show Wednesday, his date with Sweetie…

What was he thinking?

He slapped the tooth brush against the counter, splattering paste all over the mirror. “Pip’s right,” her muttered through a mouthful of foam, “just let her make her own decisions. All I gotta do is present the option. That’s all. That’s the start.”

He spat and wiped his mouth with a washcloth. The mirror was next, revealing every scraggly detail of his thin face. His eyes were tired, baggy, vacant. His nose hairs—which he thought he had dealt with prejudicially—still had stragglers. His stubble was winning the war on his chin.

What the heck was he thinking?

“If you love something…” he said, and turned in for the night.

Author's Note

'The First Dance' is an original composition, but only in the loosest sense. Because it's not an actual composition if I don't write down the music. So for the time being, consider it a poem.

The World of Yesterday

~~Hi Scoots~~

~~Hay baby~~

~~To my dearest Scootaloo~~

~~Hiyah Sexy~~

Hi Scoots,

How did the talent show go? Lots of out-of-towners this year? Gets bigger all the time. I’ll bet yah a bit that Sunny Daze and Peachy Pie won again. Those two are unnatural with those darn skates.

I totally reached the big time this week. I’m officially a Pony-at-Arms. Which basically means that I stand in a line with a bunch of other soldiers and point spears at things. And when we’re in peacetime—like right now—it means I get to guard a lot of stuff. It’s kinda relaxing. You stand where they tell you and don’t let anybody get through unless they’ve got permission from the right ponies.

I say ponies, but there’ve been a lot of griffons in and around Cloudsdale lately. From all over, too. Griffonstone, Fillydelphia, even some from overseas in Felaccia. Those last ones are ambassadors for some event the higher-ups aren’t allowed to talk about. And since they screen my mail, I’m not allowed to talk about it either.

Ask Scuttlebutt about it or something, if you can stand being by him long enough to ask.

Cool thing happened yesterday. The Captain of the Guard visited. She’s a ~~tough old b~~ noble warrior by the name of Stonewall. Real hard-nosed type. She was inspecting the Cloudsdale troops for strong, upstanding sorts. Naturally, I caught her eye. She used me as a sparring partner.

My feathers still won’t sit straight.

Random fact: Did you know that Captain of the Guard isn’t a military rank? It’s a noble title, like Princess or Viscount. Stonewall’s actual rank is Centurion. So she’s a centurion and a captain at the same time. Not confusing at all.

I put in my transfer request for the Ponyville Barracks again. Probably gonna get the same response as last time, but I’m holding out hope. I wanna see you again.

And my big bro, and my new little nephews, but mostly you. It’s been a whole freaking year. But you knew that. So I’m just complaining for the sake of it.

If I’m honest with myself, I’m having doubts about all this. But I’m holding out hope. That’s something you taught me.

I love you, Scootaloo.

Rumble

***

Daring Do stood with mouth agape as Typhoon flew towards the ceiling. Daring’s wicked foe held the crystal in a vice-like grip, snarling at the archaeologist. “You have failed, Daring Do! My victory was assured the moment you entered my domain!”

Daring Do’s typewriter rattled as she pounded the keys. Ideas transformed themselves from thoughts to words. Letters flew across the page to land in a misshapen heap at the end of every paragraph.

“Shut up!” Daring flapped her wings in a flurry of feathers. She shot like an arrow towards the other pegasus, narrowing in on the gemstone in her grasp. “Drop the crystal or I’ll drop you!”

A blade flew from among Typhoon’s feathers, streaking across the sky to slice through Daring Do’s wing. Daring tumbled, meter after meter, until she landed with a crash against the stone floor.

“The time has come, and you are here to witness history!” Typhoon took the crystal to the ring of metal on the far side of the room. She set it on the podium at the center, and a low thrum, like a crazed heartbeat, echoed throughout the cavern. “Or, at the least, to witness me rewrite it!”

Her eyes flicked from sentence to sentence. Her lips moved as she read over her story. Mistakes stood out like punches to the face, but they could be fixed in the second draft, once her editor went over it.

“At last, all the powers of time are mine!” Typhoon detached a control panel from the ring, jiggling knobs and pressing flickering buttons. “All the triumphs of the princesses shall be mine to achieve! Equestria will belong to me from the very dawn of history!”

“Huh. Writing faster than I can type. As usual.” She leaned on one hoof as she used the other to roll the page out of the typewriter. She flopped it onto a stack of paper beside her on the desk. “Daring Do and the Guttural Gibberish, coming to a book store near you.”

Rain pattered against her tent. A nearby lantern illuminated the droplets as they crawled their way down the canvas. The low thrum of distant thunder rose above the conversation dotting the campsite. The card game across the lot was getting especially raucous. Sounded like it was about time to join it, if the pot was that impressive.

“Knock, knock,” Martial Paw said, poking his gray-flecked head into the tent. He tilted his beak to indicate her work. “Manuscript finished yet?”

“Almost.” Daring Do hung her silver pocket watch from her hoof. She leaned it back and forth in a lazy arc. “Last few chapters. Got a heck of a climax running. Story’s finished up here, you know—” She pointed at her head. “—just needs to get finished on paper.”

He eased himself out of the downpour and into the dry air. He peeled his soaking hood away from his feathers and shrugged back his cloak. He shot her a small smile and eased up to the desk. “Do you mind?”

“Eh. Be my guest.”

He grasped a few pages in his talon and held them to the side of his head. His right eye looked straight at the words as he read aloud. “‘Daring Do charged headlong through the corridor as Typhoon’s time portal opened. Her legs burned. Her wings screamed. There was no way she could keep up with the dastardly creature. “Farewell, Daring Do!” said Typhoon. She held the controller aloft, dangling it just within view. “Eternity awaits beneath a kingdom’s worth of rubble!”’”

“I’m fairly proud of that line,” Daring Do said.

Martial chuckled before continuing. “‘Explosives lined the walls and ceiling. Daring Do cringed and piled on the speed. She had to reach the portal before it became fully activated. She knew there was no other way to save the timeline from Typhoon’s reign of terror.’”

He clicked his beak. “It’s a bit more tell than show, I notice.”

“That’s why I have an editor.”

“Touché.” Martial Paw paced across the tent, careful to step around Daring’s cot. “‘Just when all hope seemed lost, just when it seemed Typhoon’s victory was assured, a shout was heard from behind the portal. Tick Tock barreled into Typhoon, knocking the controller from her hoof. They grappled to the ground, rolling and punching, until they reached the sparkling, shimmering doorway into the past.’”

Daring Do clutched the watch between her hooves and pressed the smooth metal against her lips. Her brow furrowed as her ears dipped back.

Martial’s voice slowed. “‘Daring Do leaped to Tick Tock’s assistance, grasping Typhoon by the back of the neck. The villainous mare broke away and dove for the controller, murder in her eyes.’”

Having reached the end of his snippet, Martial laid the pages on Daring’s folding desk. “Tick Tock and Typhoon. I’m getting a distinct sense of déjà vu.”

Daring snorted. “Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.”

She clicked her tongue. She put just a little too much emphasis on the “dead” part of that sentence. She rose from her chair, her joints groaning beneath her skin. “Besides, that’s how I write all my books. I take real life and make it family-friendly. I see no reason to stop now.”

Martial moved to the side to let her pass. “Emotional health, perhaps?”

She picked a coat off her cot and slid it over her back. She took her pith helmet, twirled it, and set it on her head. “My emotional health is great. Writing helps me cope. Makes me think about how I’m feeling. Lets me work through everything. Figure it out.”

Martial drummed his talons across her typewriter, clicking the keys but not pressing enough to trigger them. “Five hundred pages of coping.”

“Something like that.” Daring Do brushed aside the tent flap. Rain poured down in a murk of moisture, clouding anything more than a couple meters away. “I… I think we all gotta work through this kinda stuff differently, you know? It’s… a chance to see Time Turner do something awesome again.”

Martial grimaced as he tugged his hood back into place. “And a chance to put a certain immortal assassin through the wringer?”

“I don’t give Hurricane any more credit than she’s due. Which is nil.” She tucked her watch beneath her shirt and shot Martial a lopsided grin. “Sounds like the game’s getting good. Wanna force them to deal us in?”

Martial looked to the sky with a sigh. “I came here to get out of the rain.”

Daring laughed and trotted out. “Come on, spoilsport. Show us your game face!”

Martial clicked his beak. He rolled his eyes and followed after her, his paws squelching on the muddy ground.

“Doc!” A black shape materialized out of the spray. Features grew sharper as it neared, showcasing perforated legs, sharp fangs, and multifaceted eyes. “Doc! H-hold up!”

“Blank?” Daring glanced over her shoulder, pulling her sore wings tight against her sides. Water ran in streams down the changeling’s smooth carapace. “What’s up? Something happen in the city?”

“Y-yeah.” Blankety Blank grinned, letting out a low giggle. “We found another chamber. A big one.”

Martial ran a talon underneath the strap of his side-slung bag. “Looks like Threehoof Bluff just wasn’t in the cards today.”

Daring stuck her tongue out. “That was awful, Marty.”

“I try, Dr. Do.”

***

Hexagonal lights glowed overhead as they made their way through the ancient changeling structure. Daring Do stepped around a long, tubular device, lying lengthwise across the ground. Three seats sat at intervals along the body, with ratty, decayed cushions. “What do you make of that?”

Bankety Blank pointed a wing to an exposed gearbox halfway down the deconstructed machine. “The motors are d-designed for rapid vertical movement with small horizontal v-variations. I’d say either oars or wings, but that’s speculation.”

Martial ran his talon down its smooth, bronzed metal casing. He pulled his arm away when the hull tapered. “It gets thinner at the end. Reminds me of a dragonfly.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Daring Do tilted her helmet back to get a look at the bridges overhead. The delicately carved designs carried over to the underside, showcasing stars, the moon, the sun, clouds, birds, dragons… anything to do with the sky. “I guess even creatures who live underground have a love for open air sometimes.”

Daring chanced a glance at Blank. He cantered at the front of their little group, but she still noticed his wings drooping. His eyes lacked that certain sparkle he usually had in the face of new discovery. His voice was a little slower than his signature warbley chitter. “You feeling okay, Blank?”

“Huh?” The changeling blinked, several tiny lids closing over individual facets. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Just tired.”

“You could have stayed behind at camp.” Daring shrugged, nudging him with her shoulder. “Got some shuteye. A giant door should be hard to miss.”

“No, it’s not.” Blank gave her a wheezy laugh. “It’s just that the door closes when I’m not there.”

“Suspect.” Martial Paw took a notepad from his bag, pulling a pen from behind his feathery ear. “Any particular theories why?”

They stopped before a doorway the size of a three-story building. Threads of bronze and silver were sewn into the stone, creating a spider web of designs and etchings. The patterns met at the center, where the door was split by a seam right down the middle. They found their root at a plain plate at the base, embedded into the floor.

“I think only a changeling c-can unlock it.” Blankety tilted his head from side to side. “Aaand it does a good job locking itself.”

Daring studied the door, but found nothing to indicate that the designs were writing or images. Just threads of metal meant to transport magic from one place to another. “It’s like how you turned on the lights in here, right? Put your hoof on that plate and it takes some magic from you?”

“Ye-yeah. Just a spark, though.” Blank waved a hoof. “I c-can make a hundred times that amount of magic with one m-meal. I d-don’t think it’s so much p-powering the devices as it’s…”

“Giving them a message?” Martial drew the door carefully, one painstaking detail at a time. “A jolt to say ‘hello?’”

“I was gonna say a c-command.” Blank approached the panel, holding a hoof at the ready. He turned his multifaceted eyes to Daring. “I’m j-just not sure who’s giving the order; me or someone else.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Daring said, clutching Blank’s shoulder. She grinned. “In the meantime… Open sesame!”

Blanekty Blank nodded. “Y-you might not wanna touch me when this happens.”

Daring lifted her leg away, taking a step back. She held her breath as Blank touched the plate, and flinched when a spark snapped at the tip of his cloven hoof. He stumbled back, sucking the spot where the magic had burned.

The constant clang of oversized clockwork was joined by a smaller, faster clatter, like a clock wound too tightly. After a moment, the grind of stone on stone announced the movement of the door. The two halves slid apart from each other, receding into the walls. Dust fell from the cracks and crevasses, either from age or from the rock scouring itself. The room beyond lay in darkness, until the hum of magic reached into the deepest part of it.

The honeycombed ceiling lit, and the room became a showcase of history.

Daring Do stepped inside. The room was rounded; not a perfect circle, but oval at the least. The floor fell away in layered steps, each a ring that ran completely around the room. A throne sat at the far end, cast from not bronze or silver, but the purest gold. Each armrest ended with the head of a changeling, its mouth open, its fangs bared. The back of the chair arched high and slit at the end, having the appearance of two curved blades facing away from each other. That, or a forked tongue.

Daring ignored it all. She went right to the room’s single, continuous wall. Pictographs lined the floor and the ceiling, while in between, massive murals depicted images she’d only dreamed of seeing.

The snakelike bodies of draconequui tangled around a tree as fae—mystical creatures from the distant past—approached as an army of winged warriors. Further in, the fae were victorious, shackling mortal beings and forcing them to work to the bone.

Daring Do paused before the largest picture. It showed six changelings, all arrayed beneath a representation of the sun itself. Each changeling wore a necklace with a colored crystal, save for the sixth, which wore a crown. Magic arced from the crystals, trailing from the changelings to strike at a massive, fiery fae.

Daring’s eyes went wide. She waved behind her, never taking her eyes off the etching. “Marty. Marty! Blank! Look!”

They flew, their wings either fluttering or buzzing their way to her side. Blank stood to her right, while Martial took the left. Martial Paw flipped to a new page and scratched his notes anew. “What’s up?” he asked. “Something caught your eye.”

“Yeah.” Daring Do placed her hoof on the changeling with the crown. Its crest was a lavender, six-sided star. “I’ve seen this picture before.”

Blankety’s brow furrowed, his exoskeletal plates overlapping. His eyes shot between Daring and the mural. “How? Where? I’ve never seen anything—”

“Canterlot Castle.” Daring Do swallowed hard. “The Great Hall. With all the stained glass windows. Th—” She pulled her helmet off and ran a hoof through her damp mane. “The one from, like, ten years ago. No, eleven. The one they made when Nightmare Moon returned.”

“What?” Martial squinted, turning his head to the side so he could look at the picture straight-on. His beak dropped open. “Six changelings…”

Blankety chattered something unintelligible and probably dirty. He grabbed Daring’s wing, but she couldn’t turn away. “C-changelings,” he said, “wielding the Elements?”

Martial’s pen fell from a limp talon. He bent over, scrambling to pick it up before it rolled down the stairs. His wings flared as he regained his balance. “Plucked pinions. The Elements belong to the changelings?”

Daring’s eyes trailed to the fae. The creature—a large, flaming bull—reeled back from the overwhelming power. Magic chains clasped his limbs in a bitter, ironic mirror to his treatment of the world’s mortals. “This is the last picture. The last chapter in their history. This… this is what led to them building this city. This whole empire! Their story is…”

She finally tore herself away from the wall. She looked to the empty throne, to the dilapidated flying machine, to the grinding clockwork outside. “Their story is Equestria’s.”

“Triumph over tyranny,” Martial whispered. “All thanks to the Elements of Harmony.”

With that said, the room groaned a deep, mechanical sigh. The three of them held their breath, barely moving, as they waited for the other horseshoe to drop.

The door slid shut far faster than Daring thought was possible.

“Holy horseapples!” She spread her wings, ignoring the sharp pain in her joints. “Those on a timer or something?”

“I—I don’t know!” Blankety trotted towards the entrance, his eyes searching for another bronzed plate. “I-it never closed while I was inside before.”

He slowed. He lowered his head as his ears drooped. “I c-can hear the voice again.”

“Here we go again,” Martial muttered. He flipped to a new page with a tense flick of his claws. “What does the voice in your head want this time?”

Blank sat and pressed his hooves against the sides of his head. He took in even, deep breaths as he listened. “It’s asking ab-about the Elements. It wants to know where we’ve seen them.”

He moved his mouth, but nothing came out. He turned to Daring with a pleading gaze. “What do I say?”

Daring considered that. Her first instinct was to bust the door down and run for it. Her second was curiosity. “Ask it who it is.”

“What?”

“Ask it for its name.” Daring brought her face close to Blank’s and rested her hoof on his foreleg. “Tell it that you refuse to talk with it until it does. Tell it that you can’t trust it unless it does this for you. Until we can be on equal footing.”

“Oh yes,” Martial Paw said, drawing his machete. “Explain to the omniscient voice that you refuse to do as it says. Threaten it with silence if it doesn’t acquiesce. Go ahead, Blankety. Throw your weight around while we sit inside a giant death trap.”

“Cool it, Marty.” Daring shot him a sharp glance. “I know what I’m doing. I think.”

She brought a feather to Blankety’s cheek, bringing his eyes back to hers. “It’s gonna be okay, Blank. Just focus. Be polite, but let it know that in order for this to work out, we’re gonna have to understand each other. Tell it—”

“I heard, pony.”

The throne vibrated, shimmering with inner light. The room dimmed until the seat of honor was the brightest thing in it. Martial backed away from it, his machete ready. Blank crouched, his plates shifting to cover sensitive areas. Daring stood up as tall as she could and cracked her neck.

The air swirled over the seat, taking a green tinge. A double helix of light pulsed with every word. “You have come to my kingdom not to steal, but to learn. Why?”

Daring Do sucked her lips in. She took a hesitant step towards the throne. “I’ll answer the question if you answer one of ours. Deal?”

Her breath felt loud in the closed room. Every sound echoed off the rounded wall. The muted churn of gears seemed to mirror the wheels turning in the voice’s head. If it had a head.

“That seems acceptable,” the voice said. “Answer my question, pony.”

“We’re explorers.” Daring puffed her chest out. She patted her shirt, her eyes examining every facet of the throne. There were no seams, no mold lines, no chisel marks. It was pure and smooth. “Researchers. We’ve been following rumors of a lost changeling city for a long time. We came here to learn about the past.” She sucked in her cheek. “And to prevent someone from abusing its technology for wrongdoing.”

The voice let out a garbled sound, like an electronic sigh. “You believe your words, at the least. Very well; a question for a question. Speak, Mandible.”

Daring Do squinted. “Mandible? There’s nobody—”

“Sh-she means me,” Blankety said. He stepped forward, his knees knocking. “She’s talking about me.”

Martial Paw let his blade’s point drop towards the ground. “When did you get a name change?”

“Wh-when I was twelve.” Blank swallowed hard enough for it to echo. His lips trembled. “Wh-who are you?”

The twin streams of light streaked upwards and met above their heads. There was a flash, a crackle, and a shower of sparks descended upon the throne. They moved in zigzagging, erratic patterns, tracing shapes as they fell. A body took form, from a scraggly horn, to lace-like wings, to four legs with gaping holes. “I am Cicada, Queen of the Changeling Empire. This is my palace, my home, my sanctuary.”

The hair on the back of Daring’s neck stood up. “Um. You’re taking notes, right, Marty?”

Martial jolted. He slid his machete into its sheath and produced his pen. “Uh huh.”

The magic making up Queen Cicada tilted, giving the impression that she turned her head. A spider web of lines came together as she raised a hoof. “And you, pony… to whom do you owe your allegiance?”

Daring Do scuffed a hoof. “Princess Celestia of Equestria. The pony who raises the sun every morning. She’s kinda a big deal.”

A strange, raspy crackle issued out from the throne. Cicada spread her illusory wings. “It seems so. Her very name holds a great deal of meaning to you.”

“Personal friend, you know.” Daring shot Blankety a wink. She raised an eyebrow at the changeling ghost. “So, Queen Cicada, are you actually alive or what?”

“I will accept questions from Mandible.”

Daring coughed into her hoof. She grinned hard, baring her teeth. “Okay. Blankety, would you do the honors?”

Blankety Blank’s head nodded in a blur. “Are you alive? W-what are you?”

“I live.” The queen’s voice warbled, seeming to whisper from everywhere at once. Did it come from the throne, or were there speakers in the wall? “My heart yet beats, though my body has faded away. I live on eternal in this place. I am the sanctuary.”

Martial’s beak snapped shut as his talon itched towards his hilt.

Daring coughed just loud enough to get his attention. She met his eyes and shook her head ever so slightly. He relented.

“My next question is thus: What do you intend for this place?”

Daring laughed in the back of her throat. This could be it, the answer that decided whether they left on good terms or running from an immortal bug-creature. Her adrenaline pumping, she grinned wide. “We wanna study it. We want to learn about it; to understand it. And then, when everything’s recorded, we’ll leave it as we found it, practically undisturbed.”

The immaterial changeling queen leaned forward. “With the exception of the dagger.”

“Yeah, that.” Daring waved a hoof. “I’ve sorta made a living out of securing dangerous artifacts like that.”

Queen Cicada was quiet for a long, long moment. Sweat trickled down Daring’s neck as she sought an exit.

“Continue,” the queen said.

Daring almost breathed a sigh of relief, but didn’t want to give Cicada the satisfaction. She nudged Blankety. “Ask her about Ahuizotl.”

“Th-the creature who came here before us.” Blank eased half a step forward, his hoof raised. “The one who took the Sp-Spade of Hearts… how long ago was he here? Do you have any clue where he went?”

“He stole the dagger fourteen sunsets ago. That is all I know of him.” Cicada spritzed and sparked as her body shifted in her throne. She gazed directly at Daring with what might have been eyes on a corporeal being. “You, pony. I have one final question and will say no more today. How do you know of the Elements of Harmony?”

Daring snorted. “I thought the last question was supposed to be the hardest.”

Cicada said nothing.

“Whatever. Sense of humor notwithstanding…” Daring took a step to the side, putting the mural of the six changelings in view. She gazed at the one in the middle of the group, the one with the starred crown. “A great evil returned. One with the power to snuff out the sun. Six friends, united in purpose and heart, solved the riddle of the Elements and used its power to cast the evil out.”

She lowered her eyebrows and watched Cicada for a reaction. None came. “They returned the Elements to the Tree of Harmony, but its power still flows through their fairy strings. They fight for harmony and friendship to this very day.”

Cicada’s voice was a hissed whisper. “What species are they?”

Martial drew his blade. Daring didn’t blame him.

“Hey, come on.” Daring shrugged. “I thought it was our turn to—”

“The species.” Cicada’s voice was a snap from a hot flame. The trailing lines that made up her body fell out of alignment for the briefest of instances, before settling back together.

Daring’s wings spread despite the groaning in her bones. “Ponies. Every single one of them.”

Cicada’s body vanished. The throne stopped humming. The hexagonal lights brightened.

Daring nearly fell to her knees when the door opened behind them. She managed to keep her dignity by steadying herself with a hoof on Blankety’s back. “Okay. Could have gone worse.”

Blank’s forked tongue flicked out to taste the emotions on the air. “She s-says we can go. She will have words with us later. I… I think she wants to think about stuff for a while.”

“I don’t blame you, Queen.” Daring jerked her head towards the entrance. “Let’s head back to camp and try to make sense of Marty’s handwriting. I think it’s about time we sent Celestia a progress report.”

Martial twirled the machete and slid it back into its sheath. Again. “I don’t believe I’ve seen a conversation with so many ups and downs since you tried to convince your military friend that a vacation to Zanzebra wasn’t complete without a few fisticuffs.”

Daring trotted forth, casting one last glance at the murals. “Yeah. I won that argument, too.”

***

Mi Amore Cadenza blinked awake, the pillow feeling fuzzy against her mouth. It felt like slippers were covering her teeth, and her tongue had a rouge hair tickling it. She rubbed it away with a hoof and let her wings shift beneath the covers.

Her husband kissed the back of her neck. “Morning, Beautiful.”

Cadence sighed and let her eyes fall closed. “You have a disingenuous way of being genuine, you know that?”

“Mm hmm.” Shining Armor’s kisses continued down her back as a hoof ran over her feathers.

Cadence brought a foreleg over her face. “I gotta get up. Today’s the day the talks with the changelings begins, and I’ve gotta look my best, and I’ve gotta not freak out, and—”

His hoof to her chin and his kiss to her lips ended her tirade before it could begin. She welcomed the interruption. His strong blue eyes gazed deep into hers.

“We are still on vacation,” he chuckled.

“That just means we go where the weather’s nicer.” Cadence pecked his nose. “And your parents spoil our kids.”

He shuffled closer until his side was against hers and his forelegs could wrap around her middle. “They’re safe, you know. Flurry Heart, Twilight Amore, Silver Lance. Mom and Twilie will take care of them. Ponyville’s still the safest place to be.”

She rested her head in the crook of his neck. “I’m a mother. I worry about this stuff.”

“Me, too.” He drew his cheek along her mane, brushing against her ear. “But once you’ve done everything you can do, you’ve gotta trust that things will work out. Right?”

Cadence sighed. “They don’t always.”

“No.” Shining relaxed his neck, letting his head fall against the pillow. “But how’s that old proverb go? ‘No one has added a single day to their life by worrying? Nor a single inch to their stature?’”

“‘Worry not what tomorrow will bring, for tomorrow has worries of its own.’” Cadence rolled her eyes, tilting her head back to see the bottom of her husband’s chin. “These aren’t tomorrow’s worries, Shining.”

He pressed his lips against her forehead, between her eyes. “Maybe not,” he murmured.

A smile slipped across his face. “But I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She touched a wing to his side. “So very much.”

His fetlock looped around hers, giving her a squeeze. “Hay. Ever think about having another one?”

“Another what?”

“Kid.”

“Really?” She jerked her head to tap her horn against his cheek. “Personally, I think we should spend a few years figuring out the ones we have before we add a fourth.”

“Ah. I can see that.” Shining nodded, gazing into the middle distance. “So… wanna just do it, then?”

“Do it—?” Cadence couldn’t stifle her snort. “Shining! We just woke up!”

He leaned his head down to whisper in her ear. “We’re on vacation…”

She giggled as her tail wrapped around his legs. “We haven’t even had breakfast yet!”

His breath tickled the hair on her cheek. “Vacaaatiooon…”

Laughing quietly, breathlessly, she twisted to face him.

Shining looked her up and down. “So, is that a ‘no,’ or—?”

She pounced on him, locking lips and rolling across the bed.

Somepony chose that exact second to knock on the door.

Cadence’s head popped up, her mane a puffy, multicolored mess. “Oh, for Peat’s sake, really? Now?”

“Your Highness? It’s Raven,” the interruption on the far side of the door said. “Princess Luna sent me to inform you that—”

“Oh, of course it’s Luna!” Cadence propped herself up, placing her forehooves on her husband’s chest. She patently ignored the hissing guffaws he was hiccupping up. “You tell that cold fish to butt out of my personal time!”

“I’ll be sure to tell her that, next time I see her. Word-for-word.”

As Cadence glared at the door, she could almost feel Celestia’s longtime personal assistant adjusting her glasses dismissively. “Well?” Cadence asked. “What’s she want?”

“As I was saying…” Raven spent a measured amount of time clearing her throat. “Princess Luna sent me to inform you that the Felaccian envoy is arriving today.”

“The griffons?” Cadence flopped down a little too hard, bumping her hoof against Shining’s belly. He grunted, but otherwise kept up his little laughing fit. “I guess that means I need to be present?”

“At your nearest… convenience, shall we say?”

Cadence pressed a hoof to the base of her horn, screwing her eyes shut. “‘Convenience’ she says. I’ll show you convenience, you—”

“I can hear you, Your Highness.”

“Tell Luna we’ll be along soon.” Cadence sent the door a saccharine smile. “At our nearest convenience.”

“Very good, Your Highness.”

Cadence wrapped her forelegs over the top of her head. She blew a long, hot breath through pursed lips as Raven’s hoofsteps retreated down the hallway. She turned to her husband. “Having seen both politics and the battlefield, which do you prefer?”

“There’s a difference?”

“Ha.” She spread a wing to flick away the covers. “I’ll be in the bathroom getting ready for—”

“Hold on.”

Shining snagged her elbow with a shimmering pink spell. He cracked a grin, rolling a hoof up and over his head. “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling pretty inconvenient right about now.”

***

Cadence landed in Canterlot’s airship harbor with a click of her hooves. Airships great and small, multicolored and plain, fast skiffs and mighty cargo vessels, all hovered around the piers. Crew members hailed, passengers disembarked, and one or two tourists bickered over a borrowed map. One end of the harbor was closed off to the public, instead occupied by a single alicorn mare.

Cadence cantered her way up to Luna’s side, accompanied by a cadre of Royal Guardsponies. “Good morning, Luna.”

Luna sent her a sidelong glance, half-spreading her wings in a regal fashion. “You took your sweet time, did you not?”

“I was…” Cadence gave her a cheeky grin. “Inconvenienced.”

Luna’s brow furrowed. “Is that what they are calling it these days?”

Cadence’s smile faded like smoke on the wind. “I can never tell if you’re joking or not.”

“Ponies tell me that is a fatal flaw of mine.” Luna nodded towards the east horizon. “In more immediate matters, our naval border guards sighted the Felaccian ships approaching. They should be here in a matter of moments.”

Luna licked her lips, her ears swiveling to catch miscellaneous sounds. She smirked. “The guards are taking bets on how King Andean Ursagryph plans to one-up his entrance from the last visit.”

Cadence leaned her neck back, feeling the wind against her face. “He’s a fan of showboating?”

“He missed his calling as a ringmaster.”

Cadence laughed. She stretched her wings out; she considered mirroring Luna’s pose, but decided against it, instead unfurling her feathers to their full wingspan. “I’ve never met him before.”

“It is an experience. He is interesting, if nothing else.” Luna tilted her horn to point out a growing dot in the sky. “A staunch ally, once he is convinced.”

“Convinced of what?”

Luna shifted her stance to look Cadence in the eye. “That you are not his enemy.”

Cadence sucked on the inside of her cheek. “No pressure.”

“None whatsoever.”

Across the way, a diamond dog screeched at a minotaur—in a voice like boulders snapping in half—about the proper procedure for packing eggs. The minotaur responded by picking up the dog and shaking him, and then set him gently back on the ground. The diamond dog wandered away, its eyes twirling.

Cadence’s nose wrinkled as she smiled. “I appreciate how much returning to Canterlot feels like coming home.”

Luna’s star-sparkled mane waved in the breeze. “Spending two thirds of your life in a place will do that to you.”

“Yeah?” Cadence returned her attention to the dot. It had grown to at least the size of an orange, and split in two somewhere along the way. “Is it the same for you?”

“Not so much.” Luna waved a hoof at the sky, picking out the sun beyond a thin coating of clouds. “I’ve barely spent an eighth of my life in this city. It wasn’t even the capitol a thousand years ago, let alone a bustling metropolis.”

Cadence gave her a double-take. “One eighth of a thousand years is still over a century.”

Luna raised an eyebrow, tilting her ears to the sides. “I wasn’t counting the banishment. I rarely do unless mentioning the added lifespan aids in browbeating an ignoramus.”

“Alright, Your Majesty,” Cadence said with a tiny moan. “What age do you consider yourself?”

“A spry, sprightly eighty-six.” It was Luna’s turn to smirk, bouncing her hooves in a little, understated dance. “Seventy-four when I was banished, and then a thousand years of issues to be worked out.”

Cadence rolled her eyes up and back, shaking her head. “Practically a spring chicken.”

“When a thousand years old you reach,” Luna said, swinging her hips, “look this hot, you will not.”

Cadence flicked her ears back, letting her wings droop. “I still can’t tell if you’re joking or if you’re that hopelessly deluded.”

The rumble of engines grew louder as the dots took form. They were twin airships, cigar-shaped, with wings and propellers growing from every side of the envelope. The canopies were not slung beneath the airship, but were set atop, giving them a view of the sky. Observation bubbles were built into the structures, set at even intervals along the length. At the prows sat long, metal spears, sparking with electricity.

Pegasus guardsponies flew upwards to escort the ships, while griffon soldiers flew in wings of five to meet them. An aerial dance moved in and out between the airships, a joint performance by pony and griffon both.

Cadence found herself smiling as she watched the show. Between the expert flying, the static in the air, and the swirling clouds, they nearly put the Wonderbolts to shame. Rainbow Dash was gonna have to step up her game.

Ropes were flung down from the sides of the envelope. Ground crew scurried to secure the dirigibles, tying them fast. The foremost ship, with a Felaccian constellation painted onto the side, connected first. Two wings of griffons landed beside the cargo bay door, which swung downward to meet the side of Canter Mountain.

The soldiers snapped to attention, their long, angled weapons held upward.

Cadence and Luna stepped forward, their faces masks of serenity, as they prepared to greet the ruler of a foreign land. Cadence buried her nervousness, pushing it aside to be dealt with later. Whatever happened, it was nothing compared to the coming meeting with the changelings. However Andean responded to her, she could deal with it. She just had to think back to Shinging Armor’s strong blue eyes—

Two young griffon girls bolted from the airship in a flurry of fur and feathers. “Princess Luna! Princess Luna!” They nearly bowled Luna over from sheer momentum as they wrapped her in a winged embrace. “We missed you!”

Luna laughed aloud as she returned the hug, spinning the griffon chicks around. She threw the smallest into the air and held her forelegs out as she fluttered back down. The littlest was a bundle of white fuzz and silvery feathers, with brown speckles on her paws and talons. She squeaked her delight in the griffon tongue. “Kroota Vreev! Equestria gawrock chakii!”

The elder chick squeezed Luna’s foreleg with wings that ended in fiery red feathers. “Stella says it’s awesome to be back in Equestria, Princess Luna.”

Luna touched her cheek to the little griffon’s. “And it’s wonderful to have the two of you back.” She turned to Cadence, resting a hoof on the griffons’ shoulders. “Princess Cadence, I am pleased to introduce you to Princess Corona and Princess Stella of Felaccia. Children, this is Princess—”

“Mi Amore Cadenza!” Stella squeaked. “Princess of Equestria and Empress of the Crystal Empire! The one who defeated the evil Queen Chrysalis with the power of love!”

Cadence was hit with several realizations at once. First, that these griffons were perhaps the most adorable thing she’d ever seen apart from her own children. Second, that they seemed to know far more about her than expected. Third, that she had yet to see their infamous father.

“It seems you’ve heard a lot about me,” she said at last.

“Father tells us all about you in his bedtime stories,” the eldest, Corona, said. “Is it really true that your firstborn created a snowstorm when she was an infant?”

“Pretty much.” Cadence nodded, her mind flashing back. “Yes, that pretty much covers it.”

“Gawrock!” Stella yelped, pumping a fist.

“Stella, mind your manners,” a deep voice rumbled from the airship. “We are in Equestria now.”

Stella cast a quick glance over her shoulder. “Sorry, Father!” She blushed bright, giggling as she touched her beak with a talon. “I mean, ‘awesome’.”

Cadence took a step back as a large, dark-furred chest loomed into the sunlight. Looking up, she beheld the massive, bald head of a condor. A beard of black feathers swayed beneath a wicked beak. Strong talons scratched at the stone as the King of the Griffons carried himself from the gangplank to solid ground. Wings unfurled as wide as the stained glass hall in Canterlot Castle. A scabbard longer than Cadence’s body hung from his side. His rear, rather than that of a lion’s, was similar to that of a powerful grizzly bear.

As an alicorn was larger than the average pony, so King Andean Ursaryph was to the rank and file griffon.

He gave Luna a deep bow, until his head was lower than her horn. “It is an honor to return to the company of such steadfast allies.”

Luna returned the bow with a reverent flare of her feathers. “It is an honor to welcome you back, Your Grace.”

“Indeed.” He rose to his full height, gathering his daughters to his side. “Though next year, I think it high time we scheduled a visit that does not happen during a national upheaval.”

Luna cracked a grin. “Then I suggest you avoid Equestria.”

“Never!” Stella spread her wings to flutter above the ground. “Equestria’s totally worth it!”

Andean nodded. “That is a hard truth to deny.”

Cadence dipped her head as Luna indicated her with a flick of her horn. “This is my niece, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza of the Crystal Empire. She will be working with us during our peace talks with the changelings. You may observe, though the treaty will be between Equestria and the changelings alone.”

“Very well.” Andean’s wrinkled pink brow furrowed. “An acceptable arrangement. Though I have a request on my daughters’ behalf.”

Luna winked at the children. “Name it.”

Andean’s talon practically enveloped his youngest. “Last time we visited, due to extenuating circumstances, Corona and Stella were unable to fulfill their desire to visit Ponyville. I was hoping that arrangements could be made.”

Cadence’s eyes widened. Stella seemed to be around the age of her son, Silver Lance, and Corona was perhaps a bit older than Flurry Heart… “Maybe they can stay with Twilight?”

Andean turned his head to the side, so that one eye could look directly at her. “Elaborate.”

“M-my mother- and sister-in-law are taking care of my children during my—” She shrugged. “—my husband’s and my former vacation. My kids are around the same age as your daughters, and might make for good company. I know Twilight Sparkle will be excited for a chance to learn your language and customs, and they both love children.”

Corona’s breath left in a whoosh. “Twilight Sparkle? We’re going to stay with Twilight Sparkle?”

Stella’s response was a spatter of high-pitched birdsong.

Andean looked from one chick to the other, a wry eyebrow inching upward. “I do believe, Princess Cadenza, that you have made my daughters’ wildest dreams come true.”

Luna stepped to the side to allow a wing of griffon soldiers to pass her. She watched the other airship dock behind the first. The second ship was bedecked in an array of yellow-orange flames. “What good is an alicorn princess that can’t grant a wish or two?”

They moved towards the castle, across the aerial harbor grounds. Cadence gave the airships a final, appraising look. “They appear to be very formidable vessels.”

Andean inclined his curved beak and ran his talons through his beard. “A great upgrade from their failed predecessor, with stricter security and greater defenses. These sister ships are as swift and reliable as their namesakes.”

He ticked his youngest beneath her beak, eliciting a squeak. “The ship with the constellation of the Phoenix is named the Stella.” He smoothed down the head feathers of his eldest. “And the one with the roaring flames is named the Corona.”

“We’re sister ships, too!” Stella said.

His wingtips touched his daughters along their sides. “Now, children, I want you to do your best to make friends with Cadenza’s children. The friendships of today—”

“—are the refuges of tomorrow,” Corona finished.

Cadence slowed to walk side-by-side with Luna. She spoke with a magically-enhanced whisper, directly into her aunt’s ear. “He seems like a decent guy.”

“He is,” Luna whispered back. “But make no mistake, that sword is not merely for looks.”

Jagged lines of gold shot across the scabbard, giving the impression of lightning strikes. The hilt had a red pommel stone, which flashed in the sunlight. The cross guard curved toward the blade the slightest bit, made to catch the opposing sword and inconvenience the attacker.

Andean’s wide-angled eyes caught her staring. “A wise creature once said ‘speak softly and carry a big stick.’ I prefer to roar loudly and swing a blade.”

“Well,” Cadence said, “I feel like you’ll fit in pretty well around here.”

***

“Mandible.”

Blankety Blank jerked awake from his fitful sleep. His heart beat at a consistent pace, but it felt overburdened, trying to move too much magic and blood with each pump. He touched his face and felt hair; his disguise held. “Wh—what?”

“Mandible, do not answer aloud. Speak with your heart. Speak as a changeling. You know how.”

He scrunched his eyes tight. He forced his heart to be at ease. Quieted the pain in his chest. It fluttered, but he was able to find a small measure of peace. “Queen Cicada?”

”That is correct.”

”How are you speaking to me?” He brushed aside the lip of his sleeping bag and listened to the patter of the jungle rain. ”We’re outside your sanctuary.”

“My sanctuary is far larger than the ziggurat. It extends far underground. Your leader was right to call it a city.”

Blank shuddered as she continued: “Where my sanctuary is, so too goes my influence.”

He stood up and got a drink from his canteen. He licked dry lips and shook the sweat from his mane. “What do you want with me?”

“I want to know why you so hate being a changeling.” The voice was calm, but hid the slightest knife’s edge. “Such that you would cast away your given name. The very name written upon your heart since birth.”

Blankety Blank leaned against a table, which was covered with various baubles taken from the world beneath. Gizmos, doodads, trinkets… even a partially-working gearbox. “Because the changelings have become something terrible. We no longer live in grand cities and vast empires. We are creatures hiding in the dark, hoping that nobody squishes us. We are castaways. Monsters.”

“No.” Cicada’s voice grew in strength with each word. “We are mighty, the chosen protectors of the world. The chosen rulers. We could be so once again, if only you would help me.”

“My allegiance is with Equestria.” Blank turned his pink eyes to the roof of the tent. The moon glowed bright through the canvas. “With Celestia. With Daring Do. They are the protectors of the world now. They are the heroes of this age. I will have no part in the changelings. Not if I can help it.”

”You would abandon your own kind in exchange for life with the ponies? Don’t you see that you are so much greater than they?”

“I th-think you’re wrong.” Blankety’s lips trembled; his throat bobbed. “I kn-know you’re wrong. The changelings t-tried to destroy me. Th-the ponies saved me.”

He shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. He spoke at a whisper. His voice cracked. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m one of them.”

There was no answer from Cicada. Green fire transformed Blank’s disguised hoof into its original cloven form, so that he could pinch the bridge of his nose. He set about scratching down what he could remember of the conversation, ready to deliver to Daring at the nearest opportunity.

“You are so much greater than they.”

The hair on the back of his neck prickled. He underlined the sentence and folded the page into his saddlebags. He blew a breath through his lips as his heart thrummed all the harder, the shape of Queen Cicada’s words all but etched in.

“What sort of voice did I l-let into my head?”

The Divine Gift

Princess Mi Amore Cadenza peered down from the upper balcony of Canterlot Castle’s ballroom. There were no dancers, no partygoers, but merely a humble, wooden table with a few sandwiches. Guards lined the entryways, but were otherwise unobtrusive. Lights were soft. Faint music—played by a spattering of musicians onstage—hummed just loud enough to hear.

If she squinted into the darkness, she could see Andean’s vast wings brooding on the far side of the room.

Chrysalis II walked into the room with small footsteps, her cloven hooves clicking on the marble floor. She kept her posture small and defensive, her eyes flitting like a butterfly on the wind, fearing a predator on the prowl. Her strange pink eyes, with a slit pupil in the center, unearthly and wrong, but full of near palpable terror.

For a brief instant, Cadence felt something deep in her chest that longed to comfort her. She suffocated it beneath a quickly-conjured regal demeanor. It was time for business. It was time to watch and learn.

The changeling queen took a seat. The chair legs scraped against the floor and echoed. Chrysalis’ ears lay back against her head. “Sorry. Sorry.”

“That’s quite alright,” a voice said from the far side of the table. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Cadence turned her head to glance at the other creature at the table. A white alicorn, ageless and mighty, her mouth half-full of daisies. “I’m glad,” Celestia said, “that you agreed to meet before the official rigmarole starts.”

Chrysalis looked down at the plate before her, with its offering of either daisy or peanut butter sandwiches. Her mouth scrunched in thought. “I just want to make clear that I don’t… I don’t wanna make any decisions. Without my advisors. Not without them.”

“I agree completely.” Celestia took a sip from a glass of lemon water. “I wouldn’t ask that of you. Not when you’ve just arrived. I just wanted to talk. Mare to mare.”

The changeling’s lips warped themselves into a full frown. “I… don’t understand.”

“I was hoping, in some small way, that we could get to know each other.” Celestia took a larger bite of her sandwich than her mouth could hold and spent a few beats chewing. “I mean, the question is, why settle for peace when you could have friendship? Changelings aren’t known for walking downtown and initiating a relationship.”

Chrysalis II’s head dipped down, but she hid it by reaching for the peanut butter. “I know.”

“So I thought to help you along.” Celestia smiled, her cheeks puffing out. She spread a wing, aiming the feathers Chrysalis’ way. “If you’re willing.”

Chrysalis II tried to smile; it came across as a pained leer. “I don’t see the harm.”

Celestia nodded. “Let’s talk about ourselves. Should I go first, or do you feel comfortable?”

“Y-you should go first.”

Celestia leaned her elbows on the table, and rested her chin in her hooves. “Let’s see. My name is Celestia, I’m one-thousand-some years old, and I’ve ruled Equestria for most of that… I usually raise the sun every morning, though lately I let Cadence and Twilight do it. Just to practice, you know. My favorite food is macaroni and cheese, and I hate getting my feathers wet. ” She nodded slowly, puffing her lips out. “Yep. Yep, I think that about covers it.”

The corner of Chrysalis’ mouth quirked upward. “You make it sound normal.”

“Of course I do.” Celestia tapped a hoof against the table. “There’s nothing more normal than a good macaroni and cheese.”

“No, I mean—” A tiny sputter of laughter died on its way out of Chrysalis’ throat. With a bit more seriousness, she crossed her legs across her chest. “I’ll have to take your word for it. I’ve never tried Macarena and cheese.”

Celestia’s eyes widened. She raised a foreleg and whistled. “Raven! Get this girl some mac and cheese, stat! It’s an emergency!”

Chrysalis II stifled a snort. “It’s that good, huh?”

“Oh, it’s a matter of professional pride, now.” Celestia spread her wings. Light reflected off her pristine white feathers, brightening the room slightly. “While they brew up a dish, why don’t you tell me what you can about Queen Chrysalis the Second?”

Chrysalis II’s hoof found a fork. She pushed a loose daisy around her plate. “I… am Chrysalis the Second, daughter of Chrysalis the Tyrant… I’ve ruled my mother’s hive for th—” Her throat caught. “—three years.”

Her unnatural pink eyes blinked wide at Celestia. “And I don’t want my people to be monsters anymore.”

Cadence saw something few other ponies would catch. A pinch around Celestia’s cheeks. A microscopic raising of the voice. A feeble twitch of the ears.

Celestia spoke slowly and carefully. “How would you want to go about that, Queen Chrysalis the Second?”

Chrysalis’ head came up as her shoulders squared. “By stepping into the light of day.”

Celestia’s smile turned serene and wise. “I think I can help you with that.”

Cadence rubbed her forehead. Across the room she could see Andean vanish into a waiting hallway, out of sight. In his place came Raven, in her perpetual stateliness, carrying aloft a plate of gooey macaroni and cheese, special made. Cadenza almost smiled.

There was something most certainly wrong. Something in the way Chrysalis moved, talked, responded. Something in the way she interacted with the world around her. Something uneven. Something hidden. It didn’t especially surprise Cadence, but it was unnerving to not know exactly what it was. There was something very off.

Celestia saw it, too, she knew. And so the game began.

”After all,” she muttered, “it’s the honor of kings to reveal a matter.”

***

Cherry-O’s rattled into the bowl as Button Mash fixed himself breakfast. Each little heart-shaped bite of cereal twinkled up at him, fortified with dozens of vitamins and minerals. Everything a growing colt needed. The milk followed, slithering between the cracks. Button held his hoof over the top of the bowl, preventing the Cherry-O’s from overflowing.

The silence in his little house amplified the crunch in his mouth. He was in no hurry. He had the day off from the local theater. He had a show to put on for the local kids, but that wasn’t until afternoon. In essence, he had a freebie. A one-up, if he was feeling nerdy. A perfect day to sit back, take it easy, plug in the old Famicolt 64, throw the Barley-Oat Bros. into a few bottomless pits.

He scratched his stubble. Pretty lengthy. He’d have to get it trimmed down before his date with—

Date.

Sweetie Belle.

Wednesday.

His head snapped around. There, on the calendar, circled in bright-red ink, was Wednesday. Today. His day off.

His chair clattered to the floor as he rushed out of his tiny kitchen and into his bathroom, Cherry-O’s raining in his wake. He glared at his reflection, with its sleepy eyes, its scraggly beard, and its altogether too thin face. He bit back a curse and splashed water on his face. He had to shower. He had to brush. He had to get a trim right the heck now.

He almost fell face-first into the shower before he was able to catch himself on the curtain. As luck would have it, the hanger came free, sending Button, his curtain, and a tub of shampoo tumbling down. His legs waved in the air, seeking purchase and finding zilch.

A statistic popped into his head, something about how most fatal accidents happen in the home. He decided to ignore that for the moment.

He got showered and brushed despite himself. He dried off his spikey mane, as he walked into the kitchen. The Cherry-O’s would still be there when he got back. Soggy and gross, but there. He’d sweep up the leftovers after the date, later that night.

He breathed a sigh, smoothed his mane down, and stepped out the door.

He got a total of two meters before he realized he’d left without his money bag. He kicked himself mentally—because kicking himself physically would just draw stares—and scurried back inside.

His bedroom was a mess. What few clothes he owned were scattered around the bed. His sheets were laid haphazardly across the mattress. His money bag was tucked into the corner, almost unnoticed beside the dozen-or-so game systems he’d collected. He stubbed his hoof on one such device, sending shockwaves up his leg. He leaned against the wall, lifting his head, waiting for the ache to pass.

The shelves above his head were lined with wooden carvings. Some ponies, some mystical creatures, even some monsters. He reached up to nudge his hydra figurine. It wobbled, but remained standing.

He smiled at it. “Ready for tonight, bruiser? We’re gonna give them the show of a lifetime.”

The hydra was unsurprisingly unresponsive.

“Darn right, you are.” Button lugged his money bag over his shoulder. It strapped securely around his midsection. “And you know, maybe I am, too.”

It was a short walk to the Smooth Snips, the barbershop establishment owned by Button’s childhood friend. The barber’s pole spun with red and white spiraling stripes just outside the door, catching the eye from blocks away. The bell jingled as Button entered, announcing his presence.

Snipsy Snap, Snips to his friends, glanced up from his place behind the chair. “Mash! Good to see yah. Be right with you.” He scissors worked in a flash of magic, clipping the mane of the young stallion before him. “Gotta give Featherweight his annual bowl cut.”

Featherweight narrowed his eyes, keeping his head very still. “It looks good on me.”

“Why don’t you try something new?” Snips paced around the chair as he talked, his horn bobbing, keeping barely half an eye on his work. “A tomahawk. Some kinda wave. Stallions with ponytails are in this year. ”

“Ironically enough.” Pipsqueak said from behind a newspaper. The top folded down to reveal his face, which held one raised eyebrow. “Or is that coincidentally?”

“Definitely coincidentally.” Button Mash sat beside the short stallion, waiting his turn in the hot seat. “Or maybe just oddly? I dunno what all these fancy words mean anymore.”

Featherweight spread a wing from beneath the bib keeping mane clippings out of his coat. “Irony is when you mean the opposite of what you say.”

Snips shaved an especially long hair from the top of Featherweight’s head. “And coincidence is when two things look related, but they really aren’t.”

Pipsqueak tapped a hoof against his lips. “So it isn’t ironic, because ponies with ponytails is exactly what it sounds like. And it isn’t a coincidence, because they are connected.”

Button Mash scratched at his itchy almost-beard. “So it’s just stupid?”

“I dare say, old bean, that about sums it up.” Pipsqueak tossed the paper onto a nearby table, overflowing with last year’s magazines. “I also dare to say I didn’t suppose on seeing you here. In for a trim?”

“A shave.” Button gestured at the bramble patch of reddish-brown hair growing from his chin. “Wanted to look presentable for the date tonight.”

“Say what?” Snips narrowly missed slicing Featherweight’s ear off. “Button Mash on a date? What sorta arcane covenant did you forge to make that impossibility happen?”

Button Mash ground his teeth behind closed lips. He held a hoof to his mouth to give his voice extra reach. “I appreciate the vote of confidence there, friend!”

Snips gestured with his scissors, and Featherweight ducked. “I mean,” Snips said, “I mean geeze, dude. Horseapples, you know? You could barely get up the nerve to tell your folks you were moving out. Now you’re dating? Where did this sudden confidence come from? I want some.”

“I have a date.” Button Mash lifted himself off the seat and moved to the register. He leaned on the counter and plucked a sucker from a bowl inscribed “take one.” “And the confidence comes from terror, if that makes any sense.”

Featherweight shrugged. He wriggled beneath his bib. “None whatsoever. But I feel you, bro.”

Button’s forehead wrinkled. “How so?”

“Took me a long, long time to work up the nerve to ask Princess Twilight out.” Featherweight stared into the middle distance, a tear in his eye. “But once I did it, I knew that I wouldn’t take that day back for the world.”

Snips clipped a bit of mane that stood straight up. Another hair bounced into its place. He gave up with a sigh. “Princess Twilight said ‘no’ to the date. Something about you being a minor at the time.”

Featherweight grinned. A grin which, in Button’s mind, had the glee of someone who didn’t quite understand how the world works. “I’m not a minor anymore.”

Pipsqueak crossed his forelegs behind his head. “Did you really think that’s the only barrier in your never-ending quest to court her?”

Featherweight’s wings hung limp as Snips unclasped the bib and spun the chair towards the mirror. “Hay, a colt can dream, can’t he?”

Button Mash’s lips popped as he pulled the sucker from his mouth. “How’s the saying go? Shoot for the stars and you might hit the moon?”

Snips pressed against the back of the chair, leaning it back and throwing Featherweight off balance. “Hear that, Weightless? Sounds like a different princess has a place in your future.”

“Har-de-har.” Featherweight’s bit bag jingled at his side. “What do I owe you?”

“Ten bits, square.” Snips moseyed up to the counter to face Button Mash, slipping his scissors into a pouch without even looking. “What can I do for you?”

Button Mash backed up a step, glancing at Pipsqueak. “Isn’t he—?”

“My girlfriend’s in the back, getting her mane done.” Pipsqueak flipped through a mane-style magazine that he probably already knew by heart. “Leaving me to make witty remarks and generally make Snips’ life miserable for hours on end.”

Snips grimaced. “The mane cut’s free if you can get him to leave.”

“No dice,” Button said, tapping the countertop. “Just need the beard trimmed down to a level somewhere below ‘Everfree Forest Chic.’”

“Whatever.” Snips motioned him to the chair, scooping Featherweight’s bits off the counter. “Later, Weightless.”

The Pegasus was already on his way out the door. “Later, dudes.”

“Pleasant fellow, that,” Pipsqueak mumbled. “A bit barmy in the brain cells, but pleasant all the same.”

The bib clasped behind Button’s neck as he settled into the hydraulic-powered chair. He was raised and leaned back until his chin stuck in the air just below Snips’ eye level.

Snips’ horn flashed as he lathered shaving cream onto his patient. “So, who’s the lucky mare?”

“Sweetie Belle.”

“Horseapples, dude!” A long, sharp blade lifted from Snips’ bag. It hovered dangerously close to Button’s neck. “And she said yes? She’s, like, the hottest babe in Ponyville. Maybe Equestria!”

Pipsqueak shook his head, his ears standing upright. “I see your Sweetie Belle and raise you a Dinky Hooves.”

“No way, man.” A swift swipe of Snips’ blade left sweat collecting behind Button Mash’s ears. “Your girlfriend is cute and all, but Sweetie Belle’s where it’s at. Curvy, curly, and a voice like ‘whoa.’” He tilted his head to bring his mouth close to Button’s. “When you totally strike out, I’m gonna catch her on the rebound.”

“I’m impressed,” Pipsqueak said. “You degraded a mare, insulted your friend, and butchered two sports metaphors all with one thoughtless comment. Bravo. All the applause.”

Snips raised his hooves and turned his head away. “All I’m saying is that if Button can get a freaking date with her, then I’ve totally got a chance. What’s he got that I don’t?”

Button waited until the blade hovered away before replying. “Decorum?”

“Besides that.” Snips moved with deft, precise movements that would have looked graceful if performed by a different pony. “I mean, Sweetie Belle could have anypony she wanted. You’re a cool guy, but not exactly super-hero material. What’s she see in you?”

Button Mash stared at the plain white ceiling, that old familiar ache rising up in his chest. Snips was a mule deer, sure enough, but still…

“I think the more important thing here…” Pipsqueak’s hooves clapped against the linoleum flooring as he neared. “I think that if you factor in all the things you said, and then realize that when Button asked, she still said yes…”

Pipsqueak only came up to Snips’ chest, but still he stood tall, his frown rock solid. “It says rather a lot about Button Mash, does it not?”

Snips grunted, flicking shaving cream into a water basin. He placed the blade into his bag and produced a heated wash cloth to put over Button’s face. “Yeah. Whatever. ”

Pipsqueak nodded with a smirk. “The ayes have it, Button. You just need to put a little extra ‘oompah’ into your program tonight.”

The door in the back of the room opened, and two mares stepped through. One, the shorter of the two, carried a payload of hair-care products in one hoof, while the taller mare skipped along, her coat and mane practically shining.

“Program?” the taller mare said. “Button’s putting on another show?”

“Yes, Love,” Pipsqueak said, casting a devilish smile over his shoulder, “but also spending some quality time with that certain you-know-who he’s been pining for.”

Dinky covered her mouth with a gasp, and the shorter mare dropped her supplies on the floor to better squeal in delight. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!”

Button’s voice was muffled through the cloth. “Do we have to tell everybody, Pip?”

“Only as long as some ponies remain unawares.” Pipsqueak moved beside Dinky, who towered over him with her long, thin legs. “May I just say, you look positively smashing.”

“All thanks to Lily, here,” Dinky said, gesturing to the other mare. “That and three tons of shampoo.”

Pipsqueak strained to touch her cheek until she bent at the neck. He brought his face close. “All to bring the beauty inside—”A gentle kiss. “—outside.”

Lily Longsocks wrapped her forelegs around her torso as she watched, grinning wide. “Aw, it’s so fuzzy!”

Snips stuck his tongue out. He flicked Button’s cloth across the room to a waiting pile of used rags. “I’m gonna lose my cookies if you guys don’t shove out.”

Lily flicked Snips’ shoulder with her tail. “You don’t have a romantic bone in your body!”

“Quit it, sis!” Snips nursed his shoulder and his pride. “Discounts for everybody if you quit loitering.”

“I’ll pay full price.” Button Mash slid out of the chair and let his back pop. He examined his face in the mirror to see that while the beard was trimmed away, the brown coat beneath remained untouched. “It’s a good job, Snips. Thanks.”

Snips cocked a brow, before letting a smile crawl across his face. He slung a foreleg over Button’s shoulder. “Yeah, see, that’s why we keep you around, Mash. You’ve got decorum and such. I’ll ring you up.”

“If only it’d rub off on you.” Lily punched Button in the shoulder. It almost knocked him off his feet. “Keep Snips honest for me, Killer. You show Sweetie a good time.”

Button wobbled back and forth before he got all four hooves on the ground. “Sure. Thanks. Sure.”

Dinky tore her attention away from Pipsqueak long enough to move towards Button, her now-wavy, shoulder-length mane bouncing. “Which show are you putting on for the kids tonight?”

Button’s hoof rummaged through his bit bag. “The Gift of the Elements. The oldest story we’ve got. I’m bringing out your hydra especially for the big monster fight.”

Dinky pumped a foreleg. “Yes! That’s my favorite. Let me know if the control bar needs adjusting. You said the Celestia puppet was a little sticky last time, right?”

“Yeah, but I think the joints just needed oiling.” Golden bits clattered from Button’s grip to Snips’ cash register. He followed up with two silver pieces to give the exact change. “Won’t be needing her tonight, since the show focuses on the original bearers.” He let out a puff of a laugh. “Buuut… stick around in case something goes belly-up, okay?”

Dinky’s head bobbed. “Sure. Pip and I ’re gonna be eating at the café, so we’re right next door. We’ll listen up for any explosions.”

Pipsqueak nudged his way between them, taking Dinky by the hoof. “Assuming pyrotechnics aren’t part of your plans for tonight?”

“Nah, nah.” Button shrugged, offering up empty hooves. “Not in the cards. Maybe later, when the shows really take off. Kinda got a limited budget now.”

Snips’ register cha-chinged as he slid the drawer closed. “You know whose shows have awesome pyrotechnics? The G and P Trixie. Now there’s a mare who can attract a crowd.”

Button rolled his eyes, turning towards the door. “I’ll see you later, Snips. Keep your head on your shoulders.”

Snips threw a mock-salute. “Keep your buns out of the fire.”

“Ha!” Button Mash shook his head, rubbing his smoothed-off chin. “Even if I manage that, I’ll bet I’ll still singe my tail.”

***

The metal clasp latched around Caballeron’s hoof, secure and strong. The single-bladed spur on the front of the device swung about until a swift flick of his hoof locked it into place. He balanced on three legs, swinging the weapon, getting a feel for its balance.

Merry Mare leaned against her pillow, the blankets drawn up to her midsection. “You’re up early.”

“It’s noon.” Caballeron flicked a carrot into the air and sliced it in half as it fell. “And I’ve got work to do.”

Merry pouted. She rolled onto her back, bunching up her curly, gray mane. “I’ve got work you could do.”

“As enticing as that sounds—”

“I mean real work.” Merry took in her lover, from his salt-and-pepper mane to his golden cutie mark. “Come back to Ponyville. We’ll give you a makeover. Make you a new pony. Bring you back to me.”

Caballeron removed his spur so that he could slide his shirt sleeves over his forelegs. He buttoned slowly, giving himself a moment to think. He stared at a picture on the wall, which held a happy stallion, a smiling mare, and a cheerful colt. “Twenty years is a long time.”

Merry pressed the sheet against her body, dragging it across the room. She leaned against Caballeron’s back and touched her lips to his neck. “You could join us. We could make Equestria a better place. We could search for Happy toge—”

“Merry.” Caballeron bit his tongue. Thoughts rushed through his head, each begging to be the one to make it into the open. “Our son…”

His throat constricted. “I told you,” he said at last. “Ahuizotl has me by the dock. I can’t move without his say-so. It’s just this one last job. Then we can talk about making amends.”

Merry sighed, her breath tickling his coat. “Why do you want to run from me?”

“I’m not.” He reached around to touch her shoulder. He turned to bring her face-to-face. “I’m running towards you, Merry. Everything I do, every move I make, brings me further out of this life and closer to one with you. Just trust me. We can be together again. You and me. Husband and wife.”

Merry’s eyes jumped from his to the photograph. “A family.”

“Yes.” Cablleron pointedly ignored the smiling ponies frozen in time. “A family. But not yet. Not now.”

She backed away, letting the sheet slide down. “I trust you’ll return when election season comes around?”

“Of course, my heart.” Caballeron smiled, resting his hoof on her flank. “I very much look forward to the reelection of Mayor Merry Mare. Perhaps I’ll join a rally or two in your honor.”

Her shoulder rubbed up against his chest. She brought her lips to his, breathing in the ash-soaked air. “I’m counting on it.”

***

Sweetie Belle dusted her cheeks with a thin coating of powder, just enough to give them a slightly rosy tinge. The red lipstick she’d chosen practically jumped off her face, so she wanted a little extra color to balance it out. No sense wearing a giant, blazing sign that said “kiss me!”

Her cheeks went red all on their own. You didn’t kiss on the first date, right? That’s just not something you did. It’s bad form. A kiss is something special to be shared. Something to be saved for just the right moment.

She lidded her eyes and slouched towards the mirror. “Quit acting like a star-struck teenager, Sweetie. It’s just dinner with Button. It’ll be nice. Maybe a little special. No reason to get ahead of yourself.”

Besides, it was Button. Expecting him to take that sort of initiative was kinda far-fetched.

So why the lipstick in the first place? Was she leaving the door open for such a thing? Was her own subconscious more physically needy than she let on? Was she just trying everything she could to look her best?

“It’s just lipstick.” She glared at the tube of makeup, pushing deeper musings to the back of her mind. “Just lipstick. Nothing behind it.”

And if you believe that, her subconscious said, I’ve got a bridge to sell you.

Sweetie Belle laid her head in her hooves, careful not to muss her mane. “You’re more likely to burn bridges than sell them. Stupid subconscious.”

Despite her care, she managed to smudge her cheek. She sighed, patting it down with a damp cloth. “Back to the drawing board. Maybe I should just go as I am.”

She glanced at the contact lenses she’d set on the table, beside her frameless glasses. The room grew fuzzy once she tried focusing on something more than two feet away, but those object stood in sharp contrast. Contacts would be more glamorous, show off her face more, but the glasses would be far easier to handle. How much did she care about impressing Button? He was pretty darn impressed already, so…

She grunted and lit her horn, grasping a glimmering contact lens. “Heck if I’m gonna go in half-baked on my first date. Hold on, girls! Darn the torpedoes and full speed ahead!”

Her eye stung the very instant it contacted the contact. “Blargh.”

Minutes flew by in a blur. Makeup sailed from the vanity to her face. Sparkling dust filled the air.

Before she knew it, a circus clown with far too much eyeliner took the place of her reflection.

She shook her lipstick at the ceiling. “Why is this so hard?”

She glared at the hokey image before her, examining every line, every out of place hair, every blotch of makeup lathered onto her muzzle. Maybe Button had a thing for clowns? She sure hoped not.

With a sigh, she plunged her face in a basin of water, rubbing the makeup off with a cloth and her hooves. One of her contacts slipped from its proper place and landed in the midst of her pool of multicolored muck. As the water dried, her face grew fuzzy and unkempt.

Her magic sparkled green, setting the glasses onto the bridge of her nose. She bounced a curl absently as she brushed her coat down. She needed to clear her head. Free her mind. Seek inspiration. A walk would do nice. A nice, brisk walk around town. Yes, that sounded amazing.

She all but stumbled from her chair and clambered out of the inspiration room. She stepped around the cloth lying bunched up along the floor, brushed aside a few leaflets of design work, and ducked beneath an overhanging banner of rainbow cloth. The general controlled mayhem might have been a source of genius to Rarity, but to Sweetie…

“That’s the thing, isn’t it?” Sweetie Belle muttered. “I’m not my sister.”

The sun prickled through her white coat as she stepped into the open air. She felt the rays soaking in, bringing a touch of energy to her step. A cooling breeze swept through her mane and tugged at her tail. A song bubbled up in her heart.

“Hey, Sweetie Belle!” a voice called out. A mint-coated mare sat on a nearby bench, strumming away at a lyre with soft strokes of magic. “Out for a stroll?”

“Something like that.” Sweetie offered a smile, or whatever she was able to substitute one with. “Just cooling down, I guess.”

Lyra Heartstrings grinned wide. “Cooling down, huh? Getting ready for your big night tonight?”

Sweetie blushed a brighter red than her makeup ever got. “Um. I’m not sure what you mean.”

Lyra winked, tugged on her ear, and then resumed her gentle strum. She stared into the middle-distance, her lips moving silently with her impromptu song.

Sweetie’s lips scrunched to the side as she left the inscrutable mare behind. Looked like word was getting out. Button bragging to his friends? Scootaloo running the city into an uproar so that neither of them could back out? Or did Lyra just have a freaky “romance-sense”?

Was it even fair to call it romance?

“I need to get my mind on something else.” Sweetie Belle sat in the middle of the sidewalk, raising her eyes to heaven. “Please, please give me something else to think about.”

A gasp from three distinct voices hailed from behind her. The patter of tiny hooves galloped closer, closer, ever closer. Her ear twitched towards them as they screeched to a halt, a mere meter away.

She looked over her shoulder and grimaced. An old proverb came to mind: Prayers do get answered on occasion.

Three ponies stood before her with gaping mouths. All of them were children, roundabouts the age of the Cake twins. The shortest, a young, silvery unicorn colt, looked at her with a serious, almost judgmental stare. The second in line was a pinkish Pegasus filly, grinned with all her might, ready to burst at any second. The third was a tall filly with a disproportionately large horn and even larger wings. She hung back a step, her lips pressed together, her eyes shining.

The colt spoke first, his calm voice shattering a full minute of awkward silence. “You’re Sweetie Belle, aren’t you?”

Sweetie’s brow wrinkled. “Yep.” She glanced once more at the third child, whose horn and wing combo was—as her father was wont to say—a dead giveaway. Alicorn. Princess. Royalty.

The colt nodded. “You’re pretty.”

“Thank you...” Sweetie’s lips closed in a prolonged “oo” sound at the end of the sentence. She licked dry lips as her voice wavered. “I, uh, guess I know who you three are.”

“Sweetie Belle!” Twilight Sparkle rounded the corner, her flanks sweating ever so slightly from her run. The necklace around her throat glimmered with every word, lending a musical air to her voice. “How are you? My nieces and nephew aren’t a bother, are they?”

“Nieces and—” Sweetie shook her head, standing to her hooves and raising a regal right foreleg. “No, no, of course not. We were just getting introduced.”

“Then let me do the honors.” Twilight extended a wing to wrap it around the colt. “This is Silver Lance; youngest, but not the least.”

Silver smiled a small smile, nodding his head. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Sweetie.”

Twilight’s other wing tugged the pegasus closer. “This is Twilight Amore; guaranteed to bring life to the party.”

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” Amore squealed. “I love you with all my heart you’re so awesome!”

Sweetie bit her lip, forcing her smile to remain. “Mm hmm.”

Twilight shook her mane out, gesturing her horn at her third relative. “Flurry? Don’t you want to meet Sweetie?”

Flurry Heart bobbed her head. She almost tripped over her slouching wings, but managed to stay upright. Her voice came out at barely a whisper, hovering just above silence. “I… I’m very pleased to meet you. I… I’ve heard a lot about you and the other… other Cutie Mark Crusaders.”

She rubbed her cheek and looked at the ground. “I especially like the story of how you got your cutie marks.”

Sweetie felt a familiar warmth on her rear legs. Memories drifted in, memories of magic and songs and friendship. Something swelled in her breast. “It’s a good story. I’m glad you like it.”

“I do! A lot.” Flurry Heart ducked back behind Twilight Sparkle, her too-large wings covering her like a blanket. “A lot.”

Twilight Sparkle chuckled, her voice hitting a perfect pitch with the magic of her necklace. “These guys are staying at the castle while they’re on summer vacation. It was gonna be the whole family but…” Her teeth pressed together in just a hint of a rictus. “Matters of state. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, that’s rough.” Sweetie Belle took half a step towards Twilight, edging away from the pegasus filly fluttering around her head.

Twilight rubbed Silver on the head, even as he continued to stare at Sweetie. “So, going somewhere special this afternoon?”

Sweetie fought the urge to roll her eyes. She couldn’t fight back the huff that whisked its way out of her mouth. “Ugh. Does everypony know?”

“Huh?” Twilight Sparkle jerked her head back. “Know about what?”

“Nothing.” Sweetie ran a hoof through her mane, letting the curls flop back into place. “Sorry. I’m just under a lot of stress. I didn’t mean to snap.”

“That’s quite alright.” Twilight rested a hoof on Sweetie’s shoulder. She started walking, with the three children following close behind. Sweetie was lead along, her ears perked to catch Twilight’s words. “Heaven knows stress does funny things to you. I’m guessing we interrupted your relaxing walk?”

“Not as relaxing as I was hoping.” Sweetie nudged her glasses up her nose, closer to her eyes. She lifted a hoof to block out the low sun. “But that’s not your fault.”

Twilight Amore hovered just to Sweetie’s right, her mouth almost up against Sweetie’s head. “Are you going to the show tonight? We’re going to the show! It’s gonna be so awesome! With monsters and heroes and fighting! Can I have your autograph?”

Silver Lance frowned at his sister. “You don’t have an autograph book.”

“I can buy one. D’oy.” Twilight Amore held her money bag aloft. “I’ve saved up a whole five bits.”

Flurry Heart turned her head to Twilight Sparkle and mumbled. “She would have had more if she kept her birthday money.”

“I heard that slanderous accusation!” Twilight Amore crossed her forelegs. “Things needed purchasing.”

Sweetie laid her ears back. She turned her attention to Twilight Sparkle and tilted her head. “What show?”

“The one downtown.” Twilight gave her a lopsided smile. “It’s mostly kid-oriented, but I’ve seen good things from this team. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it. A lot of your friends are putting it on.”

“Spike’s doing the music,” Flurry said. “I watched him carry the piano on his back.”

Twilight nodded. “Yup. Spike’s on the keys. Dinky puts together the special effects. I think Twist is cooking the popcorn they’ll be handing out.”

Sweetie Belle’s nose twitched. The scents of Sugarcube Corner reached out to her, plying her with promises of too much sugar and not enough exercise. “It’s kinda a Fillyscouts thing?”

“No.” Twilight Sparkle noticed the smell, too, judging from the way she licked her lips absently. “I think Button pretty much puts it all together himself.”

Sweetie hiccupped. She played it off as tripping on a loose stone. “Button Mash?”

Twilight shrugged. “Unless you know another Button?”

“Not especially.”

“You should come, if you’re not doing anything.” Twilight Sparkle spread her wings and gave Sweetie one last pat. “Sometimes a story is just the thing to relieve a little stress.”

She waved at her nieces and nephew, shooting Sweetie a wink. “Come on, guys! Grandma Velvet said she’d save us some seats!”

The fillies hurried to catch up, but the colt held back. His serious little face cast a warm smile towards her. “You really are pretty. Even when you don’t think you are.” He scurried to catch up, his short legs pumping.

Sweetie Belle let her legs carry her wherever they wished. A show might be nice, especially if it was in the open air, run by her friends, put together by Button of all people. She searched her memory for any clue that he’d ever talked about putting on shows. Truth be told, unless he was being goaded on by his friends, he kinda kept to himself.

“Darn you and your mystery, Mr. Mash.” She trotted on, her mind made up. “Very well, then. I shall observe your show and see what sort of story you tell. As research. Not ogling.”

You’re totally gonna ogle, her subconscious said. “Shut up.”

It was quick work to find where they’d set up the stage. As big as Ponyville was getting in recent years, downtown was pretty much the same. Sugarcube Corner, Quills and Sofas, Carousel Boutique, everything was where it was supposed to be. They’d put the show together in front of the old café, setting the stage just outside the outdoor seating area. The humble little restaurant was getting quit the boost in customers, it seemed. Children and their parents occupied the tables, or sat in the grassy lawn, or collected along the road.

Twilight Sparkle stepped away from an older, gray-coated mare she’d been speaking to. “I thought you might come.”

“What can I say? You sold me on it.” Sweetie Belle twisted to the side as a horde of small children ran around her fetlocks. “Even if the target audience is a little younger than I thought.”

The gray mare nudged Twilight Sparkle in the shoulder. “Twilight assures me it’s actually ‘family-friendly, all-ages entertainment.’ Just like the Daring Do books, right?”

“Well…” Twilight giggled as she rubbed the back of her neck. “Sweetie Belle, I’d like to introduce you to Twilight Velvet, my mother.”

Twilight Velvet wrinkled her muzzle in a silly little grin. “We’ve met, but you probably don’t remember—”

“Princess Cadence and Shining Armor’s wedding.” Sweetie Belle shook Velvet’s hoof as Silver Lance charged past in the pursuit of a dragon. “I don’t think I’m ever forgetting that day. It’s nice to see you again.”

Spike toppled as he was assailed by the combined forces of Silver Lance and Twilight Amore. He held a claw into the air, squealing out. “You’ll never take me alive!”

“I’ve conquered you, dragon king!” Silver slammed his hooves against Spike’s iron-hard scales. “Now you do my bidding! There are sweets to liberate!”

“I guess…” Spike grinned, grasping the colt around the middle and twisting him upside down. “Unless I take you down with a sudden betrayal!”

“Aurgh!” Twilight Amore leaped into the air, losing a pinkish feather. “Spike! You’re playing it wrong! Fight fair!”

Spike gently set a breathless, laughing Silver down. He bustled away, glancing up at the sun. “I will later, guys. I’m gonna be late for the show unless I get a move on. Hi, Sweetie.”

He gave her a double-take. His feet skidded as he came to a lumbering halt. “Huh. Didn’t expect to see you. Here to enjoy the show, or just waiting for Button?”

Twilight Sparkle stuck her head into the conversation. “Why would she be waiting for Button?”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Twi?”

“Yeah, Spike?”

“I know why you haven’t been on a date in seven years.”

“What’s that got to do with—?” She threw her wings back and stalked away. “Never mind. Air out your own dirty laundry, scale-butt.”

Sweetie snorted. She covered it up with a dainty hoof. “I’m here for the show, actually. I was feeling stressed, and Twilight said a story can be a relief. What do you think?”

“Depends on the story.” Spike’s head snapped around at the sound of his name. “Whoops. Gotta go. See you afterwards, right?”

“I’ll stick around.” Sweetie lay down, folding her legs beneath her. “’Cause I’m kinda here for Button, too.”

“Awesome!” Spike thundered away on all fours as children cheered at his appearance. “Later!”

He slipped behind a blue curtain, and the crowd hushed.

A piano melody plinked from behind the blue cloth. A familiar pony spoke from out of sight, his voice rising and falling with each dramatic beat.

“Come closer, children, and I shall tell you a tale stolen from history. A tale so old and wizened that not even Princess Celestia has knowledge of its origin. It is a tale of monsters and cataclysms, queens and demons, great heroes and mighty deeds. And, as always, it is a tale… of friendship.”

The curtain parted, revealing a miniaturized village. Thatched roofs topped match-stick cabins. Tiny grapes stood in for hefty watermelons. Ponies walked about. Not real ponies, though. These were made from wood and metal, their joints glowing with magic.

Sweetie Belle blinked. She glanced over her glasses, but that just yielded a blur. “It’s a puppet show?”

The piano took on a light, bouncy tune, aiding the voice as it carried into a song. The ponies moved as if they were alive, greeting each other and playing in the streets of the town.

“Ponies would gather to leap and to prance
Before our Equestria
They’d sing a new song and together they’d dance
Long before Equestria

Their smiles were bright as the sunlight
Their slumber was guarded and calm
They lived out their days
Both to work and to play
An age before Equestria”

The curtain rose, revealing additional puppetry hanging above the village. Each puppet glowed from within with a purplish hue, twinkling and sparkling and obscuring their form.

The voice spoke in its purposeful, practiced warble. “In times past, long before the Royal Pony Sisters ruled the land, the sun and moon were raised by the fairies. They were the most beautiful of the Creator’s masterpieces, mystical and powerful. It was they who guided the weather, the seasons, the very light of day.”

One light in particular grew brighter than the others, overshadowing both them and the ponies below. “But the chief of fairies grew proud and bitter. He sought to rule the world not from afar, but with an iron fist.”

Spike’s music took on a darker tone, a rumbling cadence. The light of the fairies faded as night fell upon the village. One pony parted from the others, gazing at the sky, its hooves slowing. The voice sang in halting, tremulous tones

“Night fell upon the small village below
To cover River’s heart
She gazed up in fear as the fairies bellowed
To strike deep into her heart”

The ponies ran this way and that, their tiny hooves pattering as every manner of monster and demon harried them. The lone pony, the one named River, tried to fight, but was battered aside as an afterthought.

“In their wrath they extinguished the starlight
In their anger they tore it apart
As one the world fled
Leaving behind their dead
So the ponies lost their heart”

River stumbled along, her puppet having been exchanged for one made to look like a battered and pained pony. Her mane was no longer a pretty green, but a muddy gray. Her coat was no longer lush and orange, but dark and matted. Still her eyes shined, reflecting off the meager spotlight highlighting her presence.

“River found herself alone, and hurting more than most
Her entire town had been made footstool for the host”

The houses and villagers shuffled offstage, making way for a backdrop of trees and a pale moon. River collapsed, her legs curling up beside her. She looked up, silently reaching for something unseen.

“A voice from the heavens both small and so still
Spoke to River where she lay
It offered a choice that, if she should so will
Would help her to save the day

”She would stand in the face of the monsters
She would fight to keep evil at bay
But there at the heart
She’d never be apart
From the light
The magic that would light the way”

A tiny crown drifted down, hoisted by a string, bedecked with a six-sided, purple star. River stood and reached for it, pulling it close to her chest.

“But the light was not without a sacrifice to take
Ponies would perform the duties Fae so soon forsake”

River donned the crown, and life returned to her puppet’s limbs. “She promised to do everything the Creator asked, if only He would teach her. He replied in that still, small voice:

“I will teach you words to speak, and all that you must do
You will never be alone in all the evil you go through
If you stay true”

A light appeared behind the backdrop, rising inch by inch as a blood-red sunrise. River trotted towards it, fairy dust trailing behind her.

“Now here is a story of friendship and love
And a world to be set free
Our greatest of hopes is a gift from above
The Elements of Harmony!”

The voice held that note for no less than ten beats. Maybe not spot-on, but close enough that Sweetie applauded the effort. She wasn’t alone, either. Children and parents alike cheered and stomped their hooves as a sheet of paper, marked “End Act One,” flopped over the closing curtain.

Twilight Velvet nestled down beside Sweetie Belle, munching a bagful of popcorn. “Now then,” she said around the kernels, “that wasn’t so terrible, was it?”

“No,” Sweetie said, her mouth dusty dry. “Not terrible at all.”

***

Cadence rounded a corner into the dining room, only to run face-first into a mountain of feathers. She backpedalled with all her might, hoping against hope that their owner didn’t notice the intrusion.

Her luck failed her. King Andean Ursagryph tilted his head up and around, turning it to the side so that his wide-set eye could look straight at her. “Princess Cadenza. Good evening.”

“Your Grace.” She bowed at the neck, rising up in almost the same movement. “I’d like to chat but—”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Your Highness.” Andean reached down to the comparatively tiny table, picking up a fork between his talons. “Very few ponies in the country would actually enjoy a chat with me.”

A fragment of fish sat at the end of the fork. He pointed it at her, his subtle gestures nearly flinging the meat from its perch. “Including, it seems, your aunt.”

Even with the wide, open space of the dining hall, Cadence knew a corner when she was being backed into one. “Princess Celestia is highly busy, especially in these times—”

“Cadenza.” He rolled the fork between his fingers. “Are we not too old for make-believe?”

His eyes narrowed, before settling downwards, aimed at his near-empty plate. “No. Of course we aren’t. Not when our children are as young as they are.”

Nopony else was around. No one was there to offer a reprieve. Or an excuse. Cadence sighed and took a seat across from Andean, cursing her own growling stomach. “They’re awfully precious.”

“Indeed.” Andean’s fork made circles around his plate. “Childhood is a precious time. Ending all too soon. But still, it must end.”

He snapped up the tail of his fish and set about cutting his potatoes. “Save for a few unfortunate ponies who refuse to grow up.” He clicked his beak, grinding the sharp edges together. “Are you aware of how great an embarrassment Celestia is?”

Cadence stood up, spreading her wings. “I don’t have to listen to—”

“Hear. Me. Out.” He laid his talons across the table, their claws nearly reaching across. “This is not subterfuge, but a wake-up call, and she will not listen to me.”

With your charming personality? Cadence thought to herself. Aloud, she said “So, what? You need a messenger?”

“I need… someone to listen.” Andean looked away, his wings groaning under the weight of their feathers. He stroked his fluffy beard. “Perhaps someone to explain, if need be.”

“Shoot.” Cadence turned up her nose and hoped it looked more regal than spoiled. “Get it over with.”

“Celestia sat in the same room with her staunchest enemy, one who finally seeks peace.” He clasped his talons together, hunching over, dwarfing the table. “And she speaks of pasta as the most important thing in the world. What is she thinking? Should she not be discussing the terms of the agreement? Getting a feel for this dangerous creature’s capabilities? Learning how deep the truth goes before it is muddled by lies? Why, Cadenza, is she so frivolous about it?”

Cadence leaned back. She furrowed her brow, running her hoof along her foreleg. “I suppose… I suppose the real question is why gain an ally… when you could make a friend?”

Andean opened his beak but said nothing. He tapped a talon against his dish, gazing at an infinitely uninteresting tapestry. He took a breath. “Can you be friends with someone if you know—know—that they keep a secret from you?”

Cadence shrugged, sighing from the very depths of her chest as a server trotted out to take her order. “Not everything secret is evil. Not everything hidden is shameful.”

He scowled. “You would defend the changelings?”

“If it’s necessary.” Cadence bit her lip, her memory flashing back to sharp, cruel fangs and deep, green eyes. “If I have to.”

She turned to the server pony. “A cherry cordial to drink and…” Cadence let a slow, craggy smirk crawl across her face. “A big plate of macaroni and cheese, please.”

Cadence’s ears leaped up at a strange, uncanny sound. Andean, King of Felacia, chuckled deep in his throat.

“Well played, I suppose.” He held up two talons. “Make that a double order, madam.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” The server pony bowed and scuttled away.

“Thank you, Sky Wishes!” Cadence called out. She looked up, up, up at Andean’s face. “So, is that you making a counter-move, or admitting defeat?”

“A lateral movement, I’m afraid.” He raised a glass. “Such are international politics.”

A glass of cordial materialized in a flash of red sparks. Cadence sipped from a straw, offering Andean a tiny, yet sincere, smile. “I was hoping to talk with you about your daughters’ living arrangements…”

Author's Note

Button's song can coincidentally/not coincidentally be sung to the tune of 'The Bells of Notre Dame'.

The Hopeless Stand

Dear Dashie,

How’s the weather up there, sweetheart? Sorry. Dad joke. It’s a reflex by now.

Word on the street is that you and the Wonderbolts are having a heck of a time getting Cloudsdale to sit right again. Runaway clouds. Stray storms. Reminds me of my days on the Weather Patrol. Never had a clear sky until we managed to break down the northern cold front. Didn’t manage that until Celestia put the smackdown on that dang necromancer, Grogar.

Eh, but that was a long time ago. Before I met your mom, even. Way back when I was a respectable young colt. Ha!

But it feels like those good old days are coming back. Rarity’s been a real peach letting me stay and help out around the Homely House. Feels like we’re taking on more needy ponies by the day. Little do they know they’re about to feed, nay, feast upon Aurora Borealis’ World Famous Leek Soup! Got the recipe straight from your gramma. Gosh, she woulda loved to meet you. I gotta bet she’s proud.

Look at me, dragged back into the past again. I swear, I need my head examined. My daughter’s in the freaking Wonderbolts and all I can talk about is stuff from forty years ago. I’m looking forward to the next show you put on. Canterlot Stadium’s getting itself ready for that Equestria-wide tour. I know you’re gonna put butts in those seats like nobody’s business.

I’m so proud of you, Dashie. Don’t forget that.

Anyway, Rarity’s got a new addition planned for the House. Some more beds, another set of showers, real good stuff. Ponies need a little ray of sunshine while you guys rebuild their home.

You need to visit your old man soon, hear? I’m getting Dashie deficient.

I love you, sweetheart. I’ll see you on the silver screen, if I don’t see you in person first.

Dad

***

Light diminished above Ponyville’s cemetery. Flowers bloomed, flags waved, headstones stood like silent mountains. The tranquility was only broken by the scratch of a pencil on paper, and the swish of hooves in grass.

Caballeron steeled himself as he approached the large stallion. His orange sideburns waved like flames in the cooling breeze. The small pencil clenched between his lips moved with swift, sure movements, having tread the same paths many a time before.

“She gets more beautiful each time,” the big stallion said. He let the pencil drop into a bag at his side. He raised the page to the light of the sun and stared at the mare etched upon it. “Am I gettin’ more skilled, or is me memory fading?”

“She was always a beautiful mare.” Caballeron moved beside the stallion. He pulled his hat from his head and held it over his chest. His heart caught in his throat as he read the epitaph: Amber Waves, beloved mother, wife, and friend. “Too good for this world, it seems.”

“Blasted…” The big stallion clenched his chiseled blue jaw. He rested the paper against the headstone, held in place by a single red rose. “The job goes down t’night, then?”

“Quite.” Caballeron set the white Ponyma hat atop his salt-and-pepper-tinged mane. “It’ll be quick. She lives alone at the edge of downtown. We’ll pop in, pop her, and pop out.”

The big stallion grimaced, gazing into the middle distance. “You sure Merry didnae tire ye out?”

“I’ve strength enough.” Caballeron punched the stallion in the shoulder. “Come now, Kiln, you didn’t think I’d lose sight of priorities, did you?”

“Thought ye might lose sight of an awful lot when Merry Mare fills yer eyes.” Kiln stood, hefting his massive body with the powerful pile-drivers he called legs. “Ye ken what she’s capable of, Poni. Yet ye still go back. Is the company that good, or are ye really foolhardy enough tah love her?”

“Well…” Caballeron walked towards the edge of the field, moving with long, purposeful strides yet still falling short of Kiln’s easy lope. He winked up at Kiln. “The company is downright exquisite.”

Kiln grinned, barking out a single, deep, loud laugh. “Then ye are a vaster idiot than I thought possible, Poni!”

Caballeron rolled his eyes. “Love does strange things to us, K—”

He stumbled over a low-set gravestone. A plaque, more than anything. He caught himself with his forelegs, putting him eye-to-eye with the name of the deceased pony: Happy.

Caballeron felt sweat drip from beneath his hat to sting his eyes. He couldn’t dare to blink. His ears thumped with pressure as blood flowed quicker.

Kiln touched his shoulder and pulled him away from the plot of fertile grass. “Do ye think Merry can find yer son? Is it possible?”

Caballeron said nothing as he was dragged lightly away. He cleared a dry throat and licked a dryer tongue across his lips. He gave Kiln a slow nod, refusing to look him in the eye.

“Perhaps she can find me wife as well.” Kiln ran a hoof across his sideburns, though they sprang back up the instant his touch faded. “I’ll owe ye far more than just me life, Poni. I’ll owe ye all that I am.”

Caballeron found his voice through some miracle of willpower. “You needn’t make such a wager, old friend. We walk this road together, after all. We always have.”

“And now just a few steps more.” Kiln nodded, his face a mask of certainty far more palpable than Caballeron liked. “Aye. Just a few steps more.”

***

Sweetie watched intently as the show carried on. It was the quintessential Elements of Harmony tale; six friends would unite against evil, and triumph due to their ties with each other. River was the centerpiece, but the other characters put on a good showing. Monsters were fought, innocents were saved, and plenty of songs were sung.

All of them by Button. He had a warm voice, though a little higher than she might have expected. He had good rhythm, a nice cadence. There were maybe a few brown notes scattered throughout—wince-inducing at that—but he could learn. It was, all told, a very nice performance for an amateur.

The marionettes gathered before the gemstones that were the Elements of Harmony, each color-coordinated to the ones once welded by her sister and her friends. No one really knew what they looked like before the princesses got a hold of them, but it was a recognizable style choice. A song was sung about friendship or somesuch, and then they headed in for the final clash with the chief of the fairies, the Lord of the Sky.

Twilight Velvet chuckled from Sweetie’s side. “I love the thrill of a good final battle.”

Sweetie Belle shrugged, nudging her glasses up her snout. “Spoiler alert, not much of a battle when the Elements are involved.”

“Struggles are not always fought with fisticuffs.” Twilight Velvet winked, flicking her tail to a more comfortable position behind her. “I find the most interesting battles happen within the heart.”

“I could see that.” Sweetie Belle twitched her ears to focus on Button’s voice, half hoping Velvet wouldn’t respond. “Those hurt more when things go wrong, though.”

“Of course,” Velvet said. “The inner battle is the one where you have the most to lose.”

Sweetie squinted, her jaw pulling her cheek tight. Something onstage pulled her away from the older mare: A flash of light and a deep growl. The chief of the fairies emerged from backstage as a fiery bull, with minotaur-like hands grasping a serrated spear.

“You who would tarry
To battle the fairies
Have journeyed far enough

“Now you will face
Both my spear and my rage
On the this field of burning earth”

River strode forward, her hooves sparkling with the magic flowing through the marionette. The crown atop her head shimmered, joining the light of the other five Elements.

“You can stand at the head of a nation
You can spread pestilence through the same
But we’ll stand and we’ll fight
For what we know is right
Now let the friendship reign!”

Sweetie jerked back as the light pouring from the Element props surged forward to envelope the Lord of the Sky. Spike’s score swelled to greater heights. Button’s voice burst forth as a dark, gravelly scream. The monster that had plagued the heroes from the very start of the play, who had burnt villages, harried ponies, and set loose hydras, fell with a single, solid blow.

“If only real life was that easy,” Sweetie muttered.

Twilight Velvet sent her a small smile, then turned her attention to the colt curled up beneath her forelegs. Silver Lance mumbled as he was roused by the grand finale. “Did they get ’im?”

“They always do,” Velvet said, rubbing his mane. She pressed her lips together, lowering her eyebrows. “You know, Sweetie, I would think that my daughter—your sister, even—have some evidence that sometimes, it is that easy.”

Sweetie leaned sideways to stretch her right legs out. The joints protested as she eased them back and forth. “Access to Rainbow Power notwithstanding.”

“Point.” Velvet gave Silver a squeeze. She pressed her cheek against his. “I’ve always preferred a good right cross.”

Sweetie snorted. “Not really effective in the battle of the heart, is it?”

“You’d be surprised.” Twilight Velvet lifted Silver to his feet, setting him on wobbly hooves. “Once the show’s over, you go stay with Spike, okay? I’m gonna round up the girls.”

“Yes, Grandma.” Silver toddled off, his eyes half-open. His ears twisted as they sought out Spike’s voice.

The curtain parted, and all the marionettes took a bow. They stayed for one final round of applause before they were tucked back away into secrecy. Sweetie rose to her knees, preparing to push herself upright with her hind legs.

Twilight Velvet touched a hoof to her lips. “Finally found whatever you were waiting for, hmm?”

Sweetie turned her head at just the right moment to send her all but keeling over. Her four legs scrambled to right herself. “I beg your pardon?”

Velvet giggled. “You just seem inordinately excited for the show to be over.”

Inordinately, nothing. Sweetie had a date. “I’ve got some plans that I’ve been looking forward to. Just some stuff.”

Velvet winked before turning around, her head raised to find her granddaughters sitting in the branches of a nearby tree. “I hope you enjoy your ‘stuff.’ I’m glad to have met you again, Sweetie Belle.”

Sweetie curtseyed. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

Sweetie walked slowly towards the stage, letting the churning masses of children slide around her legs. She stopped before the curtain, and considered just pushing it to the side with a spell. She nudged her glasses upward.

She blinked. Something was wrong. Something was niggling at the back of her mind telling her she had—

No dress. No contact lenses. No makeup at all. She was plain, unadorned, so-so. Her heart beat faster than a hummingbird’s wings even as it sunk into her stomach. There wasn’t even time to go home and slip into something simple.

Even so, she was about to turn right around and attempt just that, when a head popped out of the curtain. It had a spiked mane, a brown coat, a well-groomed face, for crying out loud!

“Hay, Twist, is there any popcorn l—” The words and his smile died on his lips as he came inches away from Sweetie Belle’s nose. His eyes widened, and a lump forced its way visibly down his throat. “Hi, Sweetie.”

“Button.” Sweetie Belle felt the old, familiar, hot wash of embarrassment prickle across her cheeks. “Mash. Hi.”

“H-hi.” Button pulled away from her, dragging the curtain along between his forelegs. “You’re here about supper, right?”

Sweetie nodded and, unable to say anything, merely squeaked. “Mm hmm.”

Button bobbed his head, his eyes jumping across the crowd, to the sky, anywhere but her. “I—uh—I thought that—well—I was gonna pick you up at your house. I mean, I’ve still got to clean up here and it might take a bit, but—”

He froze as a strong, purple-scaled claw rested on his shoulder. Spike’s face appeared above Button’s, bearing a predatory smile. “Actually, Button here was just finishing up. Twist and Dinky and I have it from here. You guys just go on ahead and do what you do. Together.”

Button jolted forward out of the curtain, almost as if he were booted from behind. He dug his hooves in and skidded to a stop before colliding with Sweetie. She realized with a start that she hadn’t moved for a good minute.

“You two play nice,” Spike said. “Together.”

He vanished behind the curtain, leaving them to their own devices.

Button ran a hoof through his mane, his voice unsteady and low. “So. Good. That’s cool that you’re already here. I guess that—” His eyes shot to her as his ears fell back. “So you saw the show? Did you like it? I mean, I know it’s for kids, but maybe—”

“It was nice.” Sweetie forced a smile past the typhoon roiling in her stomach. “It was very, very nice. I enjoyed it quite a bit.”

“Awesome.” Button smiled wide, his gaze snapping between her and some vague spot on the ground. “That’s really great. Super cool. Thanks.”

Sweetie blew a breath through her lips that did nothing to calm her. “So… Where d-did you plan on taking us?”

“Oh shoot.” His short tail flicked behind him as he glanced at the café beside the stage. “Actually, would you wait here for a—”

“Monsieur Mash!” A pony—one of the servers at the café—waved from the other side of the picket fence, holding two tickets in the air. “Wonderful performance! Business boomed tonight indeed! I have my end of the bargain!”

“Hold that thought,” Button said with a hushed breath. He skittered to the pony, thanked him, and returned with the tickets in hoof.

“Enjoy your meal tickets!” the server said. The sentence hit Button with a force that caused him to wince from his ears to his tail.

“I—um…” He held out his hooves. One free entrée was scrawled proudly across the cardstock. His face drooped ever so slightly. “Does the café sound good?”

Something stilled in Sweetie when she saw his expression. A warmth overtook her buzzing innards, bringing with it a slightly fuzzy feel. A smile unencumbered by nerves touched her lips as she lowered her head to meet his eyes. “Yes. I would love to eat at the café.”

A laugh bubbled up from Button’s chest. “Good, cuz I think the only other option is hayfries at Hayburger.”

Sweetie shook her head and turned her ears away from the faint snicker coming from behind the curtain. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” Button Mash raised a hoof. It waivered for a second before he tapped it against the pavement. “Your reservation awaits. I think.”

Sweetie Belle took a half-step forward, rubbing her foreleg with the opposite hoof. “Lead the way.”

***

Caballeron waked into the general fray of an evening at Ponyville’s most popular bar. There weren’t many other such establishments around town, and they served good drinks, so the tavern had something of a monopoly on the industry.

The crowd parted around Kiln, giving the large stallion a wide berth. He glanced around the hullabaloo and took a seat. “How’re we gonna find Rhombus in this din?”

“You generally don’t look for Rhombus.” Caballeron chucked Kiln in the shoulder. “You stumble upon him when you least expect it.”

Caballeron scowled as somepony spilled their drink at his feet. He shoved the pony by the shoulder; they stumbled into the crowd. “I’ll do the searching. You figure out how we’re getting into the house.”

Kiln rubbed a bushy sideburn. He pulled a sheet of paper from his shirt pocket, on which was scribbled the floor plan of Carousel Boutique. “Aye. As ye say. Mayhap we’ll get through th’ night without makin’ a mess this time. ”

“Wish on, friend.” Caballeron eased himself past a rough bunch of colts gathered around a dart board. A picture of Mayor Applejack was taped to it, offering a more interesting target for their activities. Fun Police was lovingly scrawled beneath her portrait.

One pony must have made an off-color comment, because the biggest brute of the bunch reeled back and socked him right in the jaw. The pony tumbled to land at Caballeron’s hooves. He tipped his hat, turned away from the board, and left the colts to enjoy their night in peace.

A familiar face popped out of the crowd, belonging to a tall, thin pony with sunken cheeks. Caballeron stepped up to the bartender and tapped him on the back. The server’s skin retracted beneath his touch, squirming with a mind of its own. “I see you’ve some interesting customers tonight, Scuttlebutt.”

Scuttlebutt’s body shifted like water beneath an oily film. His skin snapped back into place with an elastic crack. “Poni. I’d expect a crowd like this on Friday, but this is ridiculous.”

“It’s about to get better.” Caballeron leaned against the table as Scuttlebutt wiped it down. “Have you seen Rhombus at all?”

“He’s around.” Scuttlebutt balanced a tray of half-consumed barley brew on his back. “Keeping a low profile.”

Caballeron turned to the ceiling and found little of interest among the stale air and dim lights. “Doesn’t seem like him.”

“If you say so.” Scuttlebutt grasped a cup out of midair before it could shatter against the floor. “He’d have to do something absolutely nuts to stand out among these morons.”

Caballeron tipped his hat back to pat a kerchief against his forehead. “Fate doesn’t much like being tempted.”

Scuttlebutt gave him a smile like a rat about to devour cheese. “Fate can do as she likes, so long as she pays her tab at the end of the night.”

A shout rose from the far side of the bar. A pegasus stood atop a table, a fiddle tucked beneath his chin. He strummed away, a bright smile on his youthful face.

Scuttlebutt growled from deep in his throat. “He’s your idiot. You take care of him.”

Caballeron watched carefully as Scuttlebutt vanished into the crowd, his body stretching and warping to squeeze between the patrons. He turned back to the pegasus, whose song carried above the general row. Eventually, he became the only voice hearable in the entire tavern.

“While I was flyin’ overhead
I chanced a glance at earth and said
That there’s a town that’s worth a visit
An’ place to rest my head

“Drank a pint of beer to clear my throat
So that I’d sing a touch more dear
To all the ears what hear
It echo far and near
From here down to the river

“An’ askin’ for a bed
I walked till I was dead
Tired as you could wonder
After all the land I wandered
In the beauty of Equestria
Five, four, three, two, one

“There’s a mare with no compare
The beauty of Equestria
Toodle-roo-a-dee!”

It was an old bar ballad, if Caballeron remembered correctly. It took strong lungs to keep up with the steady rhythm and constant rhyme. That, and a little too much enthusiasm.

The object of that enthusiasm became immediately apparent: Rhombus’ bright eyes never left the mare seated directly before him. She was a young thing, bountifully pretty, with a trusting smile and attentive ears. Rhombus was quick to flash her a roguish grin.

“What chanced I but to see
A vision of beauty before me
Locks of yellow, struck a fellow
With a song so utterly clear

“A-from my heart the words were burstin’
And in my soul a want was thirstin’
So then just like a fool
I asked her dear, would you
Chance a moment sittin’ with me?

“She said I know you not
But that can be forgot
So rest your weary plot
And we can laugh and talk
Sit with the beauty of Equestria
Five, four, three, two, one

“There’s a mare with no compare
The beauty of Equestria
Toodle-roo-a-dee!”

Caballeron felt a movement out of the corner of his eye just as Scuttlebutt slunk past. A pint was left in his wake, with a note suggesting a generous tip. Caballeron let the note fall beneath the table and brought his nose to the drink. Musty, foamy, enticing. He let his better judgment take control and set the drink back on the table. He needed a clear head for the night’s endeavor.

Rhombus pranced atop the table, his wings keeping him balanced and his fiddle strumming up a storm. The mare—nearly a filly, really—clapped in time, laughing with the enraptured crowd.

“The sittin’ didn’t sit right
Because the day was come to night
And wouldn’t you know my weary soul
She had to head on to her home

“I was fittin’ to be tied
An’ told her if she left, I cried
It’d be a murder to my pride
I couldn’t let her go without a chance
To follow at her side

“Her mother I would kiss
Her father I would thank
The both for comin’ together
To give her such a glorious flank
They sired the beauty of Equestria
Five, four, three, two, one”

“There’s a mare with no compare
The beauty of Equestria
Toodle-roo-a-dee!”

A commotion rose from the dart board. The gaggle of tall, strapping stallions paused their target practice to glare at Rhombus. One put his sunglasses on, despite the darkness in the tavern. He strutted towards the young, dancing pegasus, his shoulders swinging with every swagger.

Caballeron checked the keenness of his spur. Things could get messy.

“From there we made
Our way down to the river bank
Where the linen her mother was a-washin’
So’s that I could grab a drink

“Her father was a-wrigglin’
Mad when he saw her grin and gigglin’
Took a branch and said
Touch her you’ll be dead
Cuz I’ll bash in your head

“I sought but to placate
But found it was too late
His mind was up and made
And so he swung his stave
Because I kissed the beauty of Equestria
Five, four, three, two, one”

“There’s a mare with no compare
The beauty of Equestria
Toodle-roo-a-dee!”

Just as Rhombus reached the last note of the chorus, the big colt grasped his tail between his teeth and gave a tremendous yank. Rhombus tumbled head over fiddle to the tabletop, facing the dark sunglasses of his new opponent.

“You singin’ at my girl, fathead?” The young stallion growled with all the force his drunken testosterone was able to apply. “You singin’ at my girl, fuzzy-wings?”

Rhombus blinked curiously at the stallion. His mouth was a thin, noncommittal line. “Oh. Oh. Oh dear me, I’m terribly sorry.” He picked himself up and dusted off his chest with a wingtip. With the other wing, he pointed at the mare who now sat with her eyes wide and mouth covered. “She’s your girlfriend?”

“Glasses, please!” the mare said. “Leave him alone, he didn’t do anything!”

“I had no idea she belonged to you.” Rhombus chortled, brushing back his blue mop of a mane. “I mean, I had the inkling here that she was her own mare, doing what she wanted.”

Glasses reached up to grasp Rhombus by the neck, but the pegasus danced away. “She’s my girlfriend,” Glasses said, “and we don’t need you musclin’ in, horseapples-for-brains.”

“Heavens to me,” Rhombus said, stepping backwards off the table, a chair as his stepstool. “If I hadn’t found out she belonged to you, I might have done something stupid like—”

He grasped the mare by the shoulder, spun her around, and planted a deep, harsh kiss on her lips.

Caballeron rested his head in his hooves. “Oh Creator, here we go.”

Rage most pure and foul radiated from Glasses’ voice. “You freak! You freak!” He lifted the table aside and charged right for the Pegasus.

Rhombus extended a wing with a snap. A glint of metal whipped past Glasses’ face, sending his sunglasses flying. The metal bounced off a mug, careened against a dim lantern, and landed with a thud smack-dab in the center of Applejack’s portrait.

It was a small blade, nearly as thin as a sheet of paper. Combs tipped the back, rather than a handle, to allow it to rest secure and concealed beneath Rhombus’ feathers. The metal was two-toned, with veins of a darker color waving their way across the surface. A thin line of red trickled down the blade, discoloring the picture.

Glasses collapsed with a howl, clutching his bleeding ear.

Rhombus ended the kiss with a shove, sending the mare stumbling back. He brought his face close enough that his breath tickled Glasses’ untrimmed whiskers. “You mouth off at me again, I’ll take your nose off at range.”

He trotted towards Caballeron amongst a silent crowd, his face light and unconcerned. He winked at the fallen mare as he passed. “Thanks for the kiss, beautiful.”

She curled up and turned away, wiping her mouth with a swift hoof.

Caballeron tried and failed to keep his teeth from grinding as Rhombus took a seat beside him. “I hate you sometimes, you know.”

“Come on, Poni.” Rhombus’ coltish good looks sparked into a laugh of exhilaration. The bar returned to business as usual around them, with Glasses and his girlfriend making their way out the door. “You love to hate me and you know it.”

“No,” Kiln said, taking the third chair. “We just hate ye.”

“That’s rich, Kill.”

“It’s Kiln. With an N.”

Rhombus rolled his eyes, leaning his forelegs against the table to grasp Caballeron’s untouched beer. “The N is silent, Clopcrates. If you can’t even pronounce your own name right—”

Caballeron put his hoof down with a table-rattling thud. “Stop antagonizing each other. We’re on a job.” He glared at Kiln, staring the big pony down until he relented. “You have a plan for us?”

“Aye.” Kiln spread the floor plan across the table, pointing out several markers. “Second floor: This is the bedroom and the bathroom. First floor has another room with only one entrance. Most likely places for her to hole up if she’s spooked.”

Rhombus took a deep swig. “And I’m sure you’ll be happy to go tearing down every door you meet. It’s why we brought you along, Kill.”

“Kiln.” A hefty hoof tapped lightly at the rear entrance. “If we move quickly an’ quietly, we can take her before she has a chance to notice somethin’s wrong.”

Caballeron nodded. “I’d rather not raise the alarm if we can help it. Fill us in; how are we going to do it?”

***

The café was gently lit by bright candles at every table. There was a small indoor area, but part of the charm was the open air eatery, right in the center of Mane Street. One could enjoy both the delicious food and watch the ponies, griffons, and other sundry creatures walking past. Dinner and a show, essentially, especially when street performers would set up shop across the street.

So, the owner and proprietor had set up something of a reward for performers who gave his customers something to enjoy. He gave out meal tickets as thanks for a boost in atmosphere, among other things. It made the spot across the street a coveted position for the street musicians of Ponyville.

Button Mash clutched his tickets tight as he stood before the server pony. He cleared his throat a few times before he felt comfortable speaking. “T-table for two, please.”

The server looked from him, to Sweetie, to him, and back to Sweetie. He smiled. “Of course, Monsieur Mash! Had I known you intended to use the tickets immediately, I might have set up a table already.”

“Believe me, it was a surprise.” Button allowed himself a chuckle. Thirty seconds later, he suspected it was going a little too long. “Yeah. It’s okay.”

They were led to a seat right beside the picket fence surrounding the café. Stars peeked out from among the sparse clouds, glinting among the purple and red shades of the evening sky. Button tilted his head back, his breath caught in his throat. “Wow.”

“It really is a nice night,” Sweetie said. She leaned her cheek against her shoulder in that way that made Button’s heart feel like it was going to rattle right out of his chest. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“N—No thanks needed. I…” Button rubbed his chin and found a stray whisker that Snips had missed. He pushed it from his mind and pulled out both seats. “I really wanted to thank you. I mean, for even showing up and… It just…”

She took a seat, and he sat opposite. He wrung his hooves together beneath the table and fought against the jittery feeling pulling his eyes from hers. “I-I… The sheer fact that you would even come, that you would even consider it, it just…” He shook his head, blinking back a sting in his eyes. “It blows my mind.”

Sweetie Belle brushed a lock of mane behind her ear. “I’m happy to.”

Button Mash scoured his mind for something, anything, to say. His eyes and ears shot towards the stage, which Spike was separating into individual boards for travel. “The sh-show. Did you like it? I mean, I’m sorry you had to suffer through my voice—”

“No!” Sweetie Belle’s head popped up as her mouth popped open. “No, you voice was very nice. It was a very nice show.”

Button gave her a lopsided grin. “For an amateur?”

Sweetie lifted her glasses aside with a spell and rubbed an eye. “Well, my sister says you’re only an amateur until you get paid for it.”

Button snorted despite himself. He covered it up with a feigned cough. “I guess that makes me as professional as they come.”

“It does.” Sweetie Belle leaned back to allow the server to place a lemonade in front of her. Button did the same. “I don’t think I’ve seen that play before. Where did you find it? Is it an older one?”

“Oh, no, no. It’s pretty new.” The hair on the back of Button’s neck rose as the tart flavor rolled through his cheeks. “I wrote it.”

“You?”

Button winced at the outburst, his teeth pressed firmly together. He gave her a small nod as he all but shrunk into his seat.

“That’s amazing!” Sweetie leaned in, her smile brighter than the moon peeking over the horizon. “I had no idea you were a songwriter.”

“I-I’m not, really.” Button’s brief shame was overpowered by the brute force of his nerves returning. “I just came up with the lyrics. Spike wrote the music.”

“That still makes you a songwriter, Button.” His name came out as a laugh, warm and cheerful.

It was infectious. Button couldn’t help but laugh her name as well. “Sweetie… I’m probably not up to your level.”

“That comes with time, patience, and practice.” Sweetie gave the menu a double-take, like she hadn’t seen it before. Her eyes flicked across the choices as she spoke. “Have you written anything else?”

“I mean, kinda.” Button followed suit, picking his favorite meal out immediately. “Nothing I’d want to show off in public, though.”

Sweetie pressed her cheek against her hoof. “What about me?”

“Definitely not!” Button leaned back in his seat, tilting his head up to see the stars twinkle. “No, I don’t think you’d like it. No, not really. It’s just bad.”

Sweetie tilted her head, her mischievous smirk twisting Button’s innards. “I think you’re wrong.”

“You haven’t even seen it.”

“That’s why I think you’re wrong.”

“You’ll know I’m right when you see it.”

“So prove it.”

“I don’t wanna.” Button’s smile widened by the moment. “Better you think it’s good than for me to prove it’s bad.”

Sweetie paused to sip her drink. “I’m gonna hear that song.”

“No you’re not.”

“I totally am.” Sweetie wrinkled her muzzle. “And you’re gonna sing it for me.”

Button’s grin was starting to hurt, but he didn’t care. He touched his temple, closing his eyes and speaking around the hiccups hopping from his chest. “Alright. Alright, if you insist. Just not tonight.”

Sweetie let her shoulder slump. “No?”

“You gotta give me time to fix it up, right?” He pressed his hooves against his glass and felt the cool condensation dampen his coat. He rested his foreleg against the napkin, giving his eyes something to look at beside Sweetie. “You gotta give me time to make it good. It’s gotta be perfect if I sing it to you.”

“Not necessarily,” she said, her voice hushed.

The tone broke the last of Button’s reserves. He looked her right in the eye, past the frameless glasses, through the crystal clear irises.

“But you should do your best.” The stars dimmed in comparison to the light in Sweetie’s heart. “That’s all anyone can ask.”

“It’s what I want to do,” Button said. “I want to do my very best. Always.”

Sweetie took a deep, soft, slow breath. She leaned her head forward. “I know.”

“Ahem.”

Button’s ears snapped to attention, swiveling to face the server who stood right next to their table. “Um. Hi.”

“Are monsieur and mademoiselle ready to order?”

“Order…?” Button shook his head, bopping his forehead. “Ah, food! That’s right, we’re here for food. I guess.”

Sweetie narrowed her eyes, hiding her smile behind her hoof.

“I’ll have the potato pot pie.” Button twisted to Sweetie, a thought occurring to him. “Or, er, are you ready to order, Sweetie?”

“I am.” Sweetie Belle floated her menu to the server’s waiting hoof. “The fruit salad, and can I have the oranges on the side?”

“Of course, mademoiselle.” The server folded the menus across his back and performed a short bow. “I shall seek to be as unobtrusive as possible. Should you need anything, merely raise a hoof.”

“Thanks,” Button said. He glanced across the road to see Spike hefting the various pieces and parts of the stage onto his back. The dragon gave him a thumbs-up, and then set off towards Button’s house.

“I did have a question.” Sweetie Belle twiddled her fork between her hooves, letting her tail wave lazily back and forth behind her. “You said you wrote the story… but isn’t it just the same old story about the Elements?”

“Well, yeah.” Button rubbed the back of his neck, forcing his coat to lay flat. “I mean, the story’s older than Celestia, but the script was my own. It was just a story I really wanted to tell.”

Another sip of lemonade, another adorable pucker. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I—” Button Mash scratched his cheek, thinking over the jumble of words about to tumble from his mouth. He took his time, seeking the choicest morsels to share. “I guess the thing of it is that those old stories? The ones that stick with us? The ones that people keep retelling? It’s because those stories are powerful. They’ve got… a real impact. A solid core.”

He crossed his forelegs atop the table, sucking on his lower lip. “I think that they’re still around because somewhere, deep in the very core, every single one of those stories is built on truth.”

She let loose with a cheesy grin. “‘What is truth?’ as they ask.”

“Laugh it up, why don’t yah?” Button rubbed his muzzle. “What was your favorite story when you were little?”

“Wasn’t much into fiction.” Sweetie shrugged. “I was more likely to read Coloratura’s biography than anything.”

“Hay. There’s a story built on truth.” Button lowered his eyebrows, wrinkling his forehead. “There’s a lot of stories out there that are really neat. Fantastic adventures. Whimsical friendships. Deep romances…” Something got caught in his throat. A couple of coughs later, he could push past it. “But if that’s all there is to them, I don’t think they’ll last. The kid grows up and forgets them, or find they were fiction and decides that the whole thing’s bunk.”

He chuckled, puffing out his cheeks. “I think we all went through a ‘Real life’s not like that!’ phase, right?”

Sweetie Belle turned away, her cheeks heating up. “I can imagine.”

“But you get a story built on a foundation of truth… it can stick with you.” Button patted his chest, just above his thundering heart. “Y-you get in a hard time and you can think back to that story. You can remember ‘Yes, this is real. This is good and right. This matters.’”

Sweetie lowered her head, but her eyes looked over her glasses to him. “What’s the truth behind River’s story?”

Button blinked away the moisture in his eye. He brushed his spikey mane with a hoof, wiping the tear away before she could see it. “You’re never alone. Not really. There’s always someone ready to stand beside you, if you’ll let them.”

Sweetie Belle leaned back, letting her ears rest to either side. “That’s the honest truth?”

“It’s the powerful truth.” Button spread his hooves, bent at the knees. “And if that truth is all I have to give to those kids, I’ll give it gladly.”

Sweetie bit down on her lower lip, suppressing a giggle. “So the stories that last the longest are the ones with truth behind them, right?”

“That’s my feeling, yeah,” Button said. “Generally speaking.”

Sweetie looked to the stars. Her coat shone in the light of the moon, all but glowing by herself. “How do you explain Daring Do, then?”

“Daring—” Button laughed. He slapped his knee and sucked a breath through clenched teeth. “Point taken. She’s just a little fantastical, isn’t she?”

“Only a lot.” Sweetie Belle puffed her chest out, bobbing her head to the beat of an internal song. “Another one bites the dust…”

“No. You know what?” Button lifted himself straighter in his chair, gripping the backrest to steady himself. “No, actually, it is built on truth.”

Sweetie raised an eyebrow. “Enlighten me.”

“The world is an awesome place and deserves to be explored.” He clapped his hooves together with a decisive blow. “Q.E.D.”

Sweetie Belle shook her head slowly. “And you got all of that out of ‘I’ll get you next time, Daring Do!’?”

“Oh yes, of course.” Button solemnly bowed his head. “You see, the struggle between Daring Do and Ahuizotl is really an allegory for the constant battle between ponies and their own primal nature.”

“Ah, I see.” Sweetie placed her hooves against each other, lighting her horn in a faux halo. “I too have often watched my primal nature tumble off a cliff or become crushed by a collapsing temple.”

“Point taken. Again.” Button let his pattering laughter subside. “Stories being fun is important, too. Hugely important.”

Sweetie Belle tilted her nose back. “Maybe that’s the biggest truth.”

“Yeah.” Button Mash slurped up the last of his lemonade, raising a hoof to call the server. “Maybe you’re right.”

***

Sweetie found her mouth dry, and it had nothing to do with the six cups of lemonade that she’d drank that night. Nor was it the delicious meal she’d shared with Button. Unless it was totally the meal. Maybe it was less the meal and more the company.

He was taller than her. Not by much, but enough that she had to look up to see his amber eyes. He was mostly leg, thin at the waist, and with a narrow snout. There was some muscle packed in here and there, tucked away for safekeeping by the training he did as a volunteer firefighter; he and the other young stallions around town.

They’d almost saved Rainbow Dash’s cloudhouse that one time. Almost.

He stared straight ahead as they walked side-by-side, but her eyes kept returning to him. She fought to find something, anything, to say, but nothing came to mind. So she decided to enjoy the silence of the night air, feeling the warm breeze against her skin and letting her heart trill at the memory they’d shared.

A bell along the roadside, the closest fire bell to her house, rocked back and forth on its rope. The hammer brushed gently against the bell, humming out a tender song.

Dang girl, she thought. You couldn’t have picked a better night.

They paused on Sweetie’s porch, facing each other, trying desperately to decide whether to look at each other or anything else. Eventually, Sweetie’s eye locked on his and held tight.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

“Y-yeah.” Sweetie lifted a hoof, halted in mid-movement, and switched to rubbing her knee. “It was great.”

“Do…” Button tried again, this time with air in his lungs. “Would you like to do it again next week? Or maybe I can see you after Sunday’s meeting? Or sometime?”

“I—” Would love to, she thought, but a chill ran down her spine as a reminder. “I might not be in town this weekend. Or next week. There’s a trip that… that I might be taking.”

“Oh.” He lowered his head, grasping at a tight muscle in his neck. “Okay. I guess that—”

“B-but after I get back!” She took a step forward, bringing herself inside his personal space. That same rosy tinge touched her cheeks far more keenly than the makeup could have ever brought it out. “After I get back, I would lo—I would enjoy it very much.”

Life returned to Button in a flash of his eyes and a bounce of his hooves. “Really?”

“Yes.” Sweetie’s lips babbled without her direct control, but with her unwavering consent. “Yes, Button Mash. Very much yes.”

“Great!” Button laughed the loudest he had that night, as if alerting the neighborhood to his glee. “That’s… that’s awesome! That’s—” He looked to the left and right. He must not have found what he was looking for, because he came right back to her. “Look, when you—just let me know when you’re gonna be back. I’ll have it all planned out. Just… Yeah, that’s about right. Just let me know, okay?”

“I will.” Sweetie’s cheeks hurt, but it was a good hurt. It was exercise. It was practice for all the smiling she was gonna be doing later. “You’ll be the first to know.”

“Yes! Okay, yes!” Button backed away, and almost tripped over the edge of the porch. “I, um, I’ll look forward to it. I’ll see you soon, then?”

“Yes,” She said, unable to say much else. “So very much yes.”

“Okay.” He turned his body around, but his head was still towards her. He tripped over her bushes before finding the strength to navigate. “Okay! Bye! Goodnight!”

She waved. “Goodnight, Button!”

“Goodnight!” He ran into the street, clicking his hooves at the apex of every leap. “Whoo!”

She leaned against the door and watched him for as long as she dared. She breathed a deep sigh and slid down, reaching up to grasp the door handle.

Her ears lay against her head. Her showroom light was on. She hadn’t turned it on before she left. Shadows moved around behind the curtain. The click of hooves on her wood floor sounded from the far side.

Someone was in her house.

She swallowed hard. “Button? Button!”

She glanced around, but he was probably too far away to hear. Her magic glimmered as she grasped a rock from the garden around the Carousel Boutique. Her hoof gripped the door, her hind legs braced themselves, and the rock prepared its assault.

She swung the door open and was immediately assaulted by a particular orange-coated pegasus mare. “Oh my gosh, you’re back! Was the date awesome? Was Button a gentlecolt? Are you gonna date him again? Has he already asked you to marry him? Have you declared your undying love forever?”

“Scootaloo?” Sweetie Belle pushed her away, letting the rock drop having bashed in no skulls. “What the heck are you doing in my house?”

Scootaloo landed, letting her purple wings slide around Sweetie’s middle. “You’ve got a spare key on the sill of the second-floor window.”

Sweetie Belle frowned. “No I don’t.”

“Okay, I have a spare key on your second-floor windowsill.” Scootaloo dragged Sweetie into the showroom, where she took to the air once more. “Fill me in! Was it awesome? Was it awful? Are you at least better at the whole romance thing than Apple Bloom? Please tell me you’re better at this than Apple Bloom.”

“It was nice.” Sweetie Belle’s tail swished forward to cover her cutie mark. “It was a very nice dinner during which we had a lot of fun.”

Scootaloo waited for her to continue. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean?”

“No tearful declarations? No awkward proposals? No painful encounters with an old rival? No tragic revelations about your physical makeup?”

“What?” Sweetie reeled back, scrunching her muzzle. “No! None of that!”

“Huh.” Scootaloo slumped in midair, a look of intense concentration in her eyes. “That’s how my first date with Rumble went, at any rate. I must’ve lucked out.”

“Scootaloo,” Sweetie said, “you have always been an inspiration to me. Sometimes, you inspire what not to do.”

“Fair enough!” Scootaloo fluttered down to give Sweetie a squeeze. “You done good, kid. Not bad for a first date then?”

“No. No, not at all.” Sweetie hugged back and nuzzled her friend’s neck. “Good enough to want a second.”

“Sweet!” Scootaloo’s smile dimmed a bit, not quite fading away. “How about that offer you got from that griffon guy? That one with the big chin? Thought about that?”

“Yeah.” Sweetie walked over to Carousel Boutique’s waiting area. She slumped into a chair beside the pile of old magazines. “And I’m still not sure. I kinda feel better about it, but…”

The door thumped with the force of a heavy hoof.

Scootaloo glanced back. “You expecting more company?”

“I wasn’t expecting you.” Sweetie Belle stood up. After a moment’s thought, she lifted an umbrella from its perch and hid it behind her back. “So, stay close. Okay?”

Scootaloo snapped a smart salute. One with the wrong hoof, but it was the thought that counted. The door rumbled more insistently than the last time.

Sweetie sent the chain in place with a great deal of care, then cracked the door open. “I’m sorry, but the Boutique is closed for the evening.”

A coltishly handsome face greeted her from the far side. A pair of sunglasses sat atop his head, looking a little out of place late at night. “Sorry to bother you, ma’am. I’m new in town and was hoping to get directions to the local inn.”

“Oh.” Sweetie Belle glanced down the dark road. “If you just follow this down, you’ll get the Town Square. Cross to City Hall and follow right and you’ll reach—”

The door came off its hinges.

Sweetie was shoved to the ground. Scootaloo flapped her wings hard to launch herself away. A stallion easily as big as Macintosh walked in, making room for the coltish stallion and a third, older brute. The big guy looked right at Scootaloo. “Rhombus, take care of her.”

Rhombus leaped into the air, spreading his wings. He favored Scootaloo with what was almost a charming smile. “I’ll give you a head-start, precious.”

Scootaloo’s gaze snapped between the assailants and Sweetie. She growled and picked the umbrella up, swinging it like a sword. “Screw you, sleazebag!”

The eldest stallion nodded to Sweetie. “Grab her, Kiln. We’ll clean up after—”

His ears lay low against his skull. His teeth ground as he rubbed his temples beneath his Ponyma hat. “For the love of—Rhombus! Be gentle! He wants the pegasus, too!”

Sweetie looked out the door, through the old stallion’s legs. The rock from the garden still sat on the porch, as ready for action as it ever was. She gripped it as tight as she could and let it fly, straight for the big stallion’s head.

It collided with the force of a carriage crash. The stallion’s eyes rolled back in his head as he careened for the floor. He caught himself with his forelegs, shaking the dazedness from his head.

Sweetie leapt to her hooves and ran. She ran for the single most secure room in the house: the Inspiration Room. One door with a sizable lock. One window too small for any of the stallions to climb through. “Scootaloo! Come on!”

Scootaloo missed Rhombus’ head by a mile. He danced and pranced around her, posing after each failed attack. “You know, ma’am, you paint a rather striking picture. Just where have you been all my life?”

Scootaloo landed a blow against his shoulder. He didn’t seem to notice. “Planning your funeral!”

He caught the umbrella. He clicked his tongue. “Naughty, naughty.”

A blow to her knee knocked the umbrella from her grip. She fell from the air, screaming and clutching the injury. Sweetie Belle looped a spell around her tail and dragged her along, towards the potential safety of the Inspiration Room.

Rhombus landed right in front of her. She refused to stop. She lowered her head and aimed her horn right for his neck.

He slapped her, causing her to fall to his right. He spread his wings and tiptoed to Scootaloo’s side. “You’re both quite brave. I admire that in a pon—”

In one smooth motion, Scootaloo stood up, grabbed his mane, and punched him with all her might. He swore with the deepest, darkest curses Sweetie had ever heard.

The big pony, Kiln, grabbed her around her waist, holding her forelegs and wings against her torso. Blood matted his orange mane. “Rhombus, ye’re embarrassin’ yerself.”

“Ruddib mawr!” Rhombus squeezed his nose tight, his tongue trying and failing to find Equish. “She brog by dose!”

Scootaloo squirmed in Kiln’s grip. “I’ll break your wings next, you slimy eel!”

Sweetie pushed herself off the ground, wincing at the bruises appearing on her face and legs. She looked up to see the older pony strutting closer, tipping his hat back with a grumble.

The rock lay across the room, unmarred by its use.

Her horn flared as she propelled it to its favorite head. “Hay, meathooks!”

Kiln frowned at her. “Now that’s a bit uncalled for, do ye nae—”

His grip on Scootaloo loosened as the projectile found its mark. Scootaloo shot forward, grabbing Sweetie’s shoulders and dragging her into the Inspiration Room. They locked the door behind them, set the sewing machine up to barricade it, and leaned against it.

Sweetie looked to Scootaloo, her limbs trembling. “Wh—who are they? What do we do?”

“Don’t look at me! I’m no—” Scootaloo tilted her head back, cocking an ear. “You hear that?”

“Hear what?” It was faint, bit it was there. It was insistent. It was something she’d been trained to know meant trouble.

The fire bell was calling its volunteers.

***

Just a few moments before, Button had heard Sweetie calling his name. He’d rushed to see what was up, but found little in the way of actual trouble. He saw Scootaloo rush out of the house to hug her friend, saw them go inside, and decided that perhaps it was a false alarm.

The three thugs prowling around the neighborhood, though? That was something to watch out for.

He peered from behind a shrub, hoping against hope that he wasn’t being a creeper himself. They were rough customers, all told, muscular and dark of eye. On the warpath towards something nefarious, too, judging by the way they kept looking around.

“Please be nothing, please be nothing, please be nothing.”

They approached the front door of the carousel and knocked. Button kicked himself and moved closer.

“I’m new in town,” the shortest stallion said, “and was hoping to get directions to the local inn.”

Button leaned against the bush, breathing a great gulp of relief. Just a false alarm. Nothing disastrous at—

The big stallion kicked the door down. Button Mash’s blood came to a boil in an instant. “Hay! Hay!”

They didn’t hear him. They were already inside. Inside with Sweetie Belle. And Scootaloo, too.

“Sweetie!” Button took a step forward, but stopped with a scrape of hooves on pavement. The biggest stallion was five times his weight. The others weren’t much better odds. Rushing in would get all of them killed. He had to do something! It was an emergency!

An emergency like a fire.

Button flipped around faster than his legs could keep up. He thundered down the road at a speed that made his lungs ache. The fire bell stood tall, a beacon of rescue and safety. He grasped the cord in his teeth and yanked with all his might.

The peal rang through the whole city. It reached the ears of every volunteer, everyone who’d promised help in time of need. Button yanked again, and again, and again, until he was certain that the message had gotten through.

But it would take time for the others to show up. Time Sweetie and Scootaloo didn’t have.

He kicked himself again, and charged back the way he came.

Light poured from the gaping door into the street. Shadows moved within the light, depicting three unsavory characters. Button nearly tripped over the bush before he had the presence of mind to leap over it. He came down funny on his ankle, but he could push through the pain. Sweetie needed help. Sweetie was in danger.

“Hay!” He stood tall in the doorway, hoping to at least distract his opponents from their goal. “Hay, um, doofuses! Yeah, that means you!”

Three sets of eyes turned from the Inspiration Room door. They regarded him with emotions ranging between disinterest and disgust.

“Bring down the door,” said the pony with a salt-and-pepper mane. “I’ll shut him up.”

Button’s heart all but exploded. He gave a mighty shout and charged for the stallion.

With expert timing, the older pony brought a hoof up to meet Button Mash’s chest with a crackling blow. Button’s legs stood ramrod straight as he toppled. Fire broke out in his torso as the air left him. Pain like none he’d ever experienced blazed beneath his skin.

He heaved himself upward. His chest screamed. He swung a wild punch and hit thin air.

The older pony took even, measured steps back from every blow Button threw. He looked Button Mash up and down, his mouth a faint grimace. “I admire your spirit, at least.”

Button snapped his teeth. “What do you want with Swee—eeee!”

When the pony’s next attack hit, something definitely snapped. Tears streamed down Button’s face as he screamed through a clenched jaw. His hind legs fell out from beneath him. His forelegs struggled to keep him upright.

“Caballeron,” the big pony said, “we’re through!”

“Bring them as quietly as possible.” Caballeron circled around Button Mash, cracking his fetlocks. A metal brace on his right leg flipped out to reveal a sharp blade. “To kill you would be a waste. You’ve got strength, boy. You’ve got drive. You could change the world if you knew what you were doing.”

Button pushed forward in an attempt to headbutt Caballeron. The stallion caught him by the forelegs and sent a swift kick into Button’s gut.

Caballeron let him drop to the floor. He gave him another kick—one aimed at his ribs—that sent him rolling. “I’ve changed the world. It’s not as hard as it looks. It changes you, too. Are you ready for that sort of change, boy?”

Button Mash pushed against the floor, but it stayed solidly in place. The edges of his vision faded to black. His body pleaded for unconsciousness.

“Ah.” Caballeron knelt beside him, tipping his hat back. “There’s the spirit, boy. There’s the fire. Never stop fighting.”

Caballeron kicked Button Mash in his broken ribs. He kicked his gut, his head, his back. Button curled up, trying and failing to protect the softer bits of his body. His head flopped against the cold floor.

He saw, as his vision faded in and out, that Sweetie Belle was held tight in the grip of the big pony. Scootaloo was out like a light, draped across the pegasus stallion’s back. They moved through the Boutique, paying him little heed.

Button Mash summoned up the last reserves of his strength to send a mighty blow flying at Caballeron’s head.

The blade flashed. Button fell, a deep gash across his chest. He stared up at the ceiling, his breath coming in spurts, the bright light overhead darkening with the outline of a pony’s face.

“Be careful how you change the world, boy,” Caballeron said. “Sometimes, it changes for the worse.”

Author's Note

Rhombus' song 'The Beauty of Equestria'' is based on 'The Rocky Road to Dublin'.

Button's is a reprise of the previous chapter's song.

The Dead Land

“Daddy!”

Princess Twilight’s castle was enormous. Its tallest towers outflew the clouds. Its smallest rooms had space to spare. Empty space; at times cold.

The Fires of Friendship burned within the crystal walls as Spike cantered down the vast halls. A pretty name, he decided, for what was basically ambient magic emanating from the Elements of Harmony that had grown the castle from a single seed. The entire castle shimmered with the cheerful, rosy glow, just bright enough to light the way.

“Daddy!”

Spike winced. He could hear the voice echo through every part of the castle. It was amplified by the crystal structure itself so that any cry for help, any call for a friend, could be heard from any room.

“Daddy…”

Sometimes, the cry came for somebody who couldn’t come. In those times, Spike hoped that maybe he could provide a little comfort. A placebo, but an aid nonetheless. He placed his palm against a wooden door fastened to the structure and knocked with the other hand. “Flurry? It’s Spike.”

There was a moment of silence broken by sniffling. “Come in.”

The door cracked open, guided by a soft-glowing spell. Spike took the invitation with careful steps, peering into the room. Flurry had settled in as firmly as if she’d lived there her entire life. Lightning orange lampshades covered the lanterns, lighting the room the same color as her magic’s aura. Simple flower designs and polka dots were fastened to the walls as stickers. A lace canopy hung above her bed, ostensibly to protect her from creepy-crawly spiders.

She pulled the covers up to her chin. Her wings folded around her body to encase her in a protective cocoon. “I… I forgot Dad isn’t here.”

“No. No, he’s not.” Spike eased himself up to the bed. He swished his tail aside to rest atop the comforter. “But maybe I can help?”

“Sweetie Belle…” Tears pooled in her big, blue eyes. They were just like Shining’s, really. Kind and trusting. “Sweetie Belle’s hurt. I s-saw her.”

Spike reached a clawtip out to nudge the canopy aside. He brushed her cheek and eased her onto her back. “Sweetie Belle’s fine. Better than fine.”

“No.” Flurry Heart had no hope of overpowering his grip, but Spike eased off his pressure, letting his hand move away from her. “No, she’s hurt. Scootaloo’s hurt, too. And—and somebody else. They’re in danger! I saw it right… right…”

She turned her head this way and that, taking in the sights offered by her guest room. “I was… at her house.”

“It was just a nightmare, Flurry.” He ran his claws through her mane, combing it back. She yawned and rested her head against the pillow. “It’s not real. You’ll see tomorrow. I’m gonna take you guys to visit Sweet Apple Acres, and you’ll meet all the Crusaders. But you gotta go to sleep first.”

Flurry nodded and covered the side of her head with a wing. “Morning ’ll come whether I sleep or not.”

Spike grinned. He tilted his head to the side and gave her a catlike grin. “You sure about that?”

Flurry frowned and stared at her flower-bedecked wall. “Sometimes I can’t sleep.”

Spike’s smile faded. He looked down, resting the pads of his feet on the fuzzy rug beside the bed. “You have a lot of nightmares?”

“Uh huh.”

He furrowed his brow. He scratched a pitted scar burrowed into his chest, around which dead scales flaked away. “Me, too. You talk to Luna about it?”

“Uh huh.”

“Me, too.” Spike and Flurry met gazes for a moment. She was so small in that moment, despite her enormous wings. He rested his claw on her foreleg. “What did she tell you?”

“Not to let my fear control me.” Flurry’s cheek smooshed against her pillow. “I think she tells that to everybody.”

Now there was a truth nobody had the guts to tell Princess Luna to the face. It wasn’t that she was wrong, Spike figured, it was just that after a while, such things seemed trite. “How long have you been having nightmares?”

“Since…” Flurry Heart nibbled her lip. “Since Auntie Celestia was attacked. A year and a half ago.”

She sat up, and Spike didn’t stop her. He suspected a talk might be more restful than sleep. “After the assassin got her… got her with the spear, the guards came to take me away from the School for Gifted Unicorns. I didn’t know what happened until Daddy told me. I stayed in the safe house for months. It felt like forever. And… and the guards were always talking about Hurricane. How she might come to get me, too. How she’d hurt so many ponies…”

Flurry shivered, hugging herself tight. Spike slid closer to wrap his arm around her shoulders. “And… and I saw her when I dreamed. And… and she was with two evil ladies. And they were all chanting and dancing and doing evil magic and—”

“Flurry.” Spike wiped away her tears with a smooth-scaled finger. “Flurry, it’s okay. It was just a bad dream. It’s gone now. It can’t hurt you. It’s scary, sure, but it fades.”

Flurry Heart sighed, letting her wings droop. She rested her head against Spike’s chest. “I miss my Daddy.”

“You’ll see him soon.” Spike gave her a squeeze. Just a slight one. Just enough to say he was there. “I promise.”

He looked to the door to see Twilight Velvet peering in. He gave her a wink. She smiled and backed away, no doubt heading back to her room to finish off the night.

“Tell you what,” Spike said. “Will it help if I stay in here for tonight?”

Flurry thought. A smile touched her lips. “I think so.”

“I’ll be right back.” He bounced to his feet. His clawtips skritched across the floor. “I’ll get a pillow, a blanket, and we can have a real sleepover.”

Flurry lay back, drawing the canopy tight around her. “Thank you, Spike.”

“You’ll see.” He sent her a surefire grin, as devil-may-care as he could manage. “Nightmares only last until the morning. Once you wake up, they’ve can’t hurt you.”

“What if it’s a Nightmare?” Flurry lifted herself up, the skin tight across her face. “Like, a real one. A bad one.”

Spike’s claws dug into the palm of his hand. He hid his arm behind the wall, out of sight. “You tell that Nightmare who you’ve got as friends. Who you’ve got as family. Then remind them that in order to get to you, they’ve got to go through us.”

He turned, but her voice stopped him in his tracks. “Don’t get hurt, Spike.”

He sucked on his scaled lips. His clawtips drummed against the scar on his chest. “Don’t worry about it, Flurry. Nothing hurts me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He flexed a filmy ear as he looked over his shoulder. “Don’t you trust me?”

The lights dimmed as Flurry Heart rolled over. “I don’t know.”

Spike’s tail swished behind his back. He dropped to all fours to move with more grace, as opposed to waddling around on his hind legs. “I’ll be right back. You sit tight, okay?”

“Okay, Spike.” Flurry’s wing dragged her blanket to her neck. “And thank you.”

“Any time,” Spike sighed. “Any time.”

***

Daring Do picked up the head of an automaton. The same automaton that had attacked her when they’d first entered the ancient city. The pincers had been dented by the hard landing, but it was otherwise way better off than the rest of the body. They’d had to sweep it up.

Metal wires trailed from the base of the neck, wires that had once wrapped around a heart. A pony’s heart. A pony’s heart ripped right from its body. It was sick.

“What kinda mind thinks this stuff up in the first place?” She polished the bronzed surface with a rag, getting it to shine. The clockwork city clanged and churned around her, echoing from wall to wall. She could hear conversation down a ways, between a couple fellow adventurers. Humphrey the Camel and ol’ what’s-his-name. The chubby pony. “Tribble” or something like that.

She stuffed the head in a bag, closing the loop with a pull-string. They had a whole bundle of stuff to carry aboveground this time. It was the longest she’d spent in the city, and probably the longest shift their expedition had seen. There was always more. More rooms to explore. More murals to photograph. More scraps to tinker with. It was as full a window to the past as any temporal portal.

“Doctor Do!”

“Uh huh?” Daring pulled a list from her shirt pocket and added the head under “objects collected.” “Yours truly.”

“We’ve found a new chamber! A big one!” A speck of orange coat bobbed at the edge of her vision, alongside a smile easily described as too big for its britches. “It houses numerous devices similar in construction to the one you just put in that bag. Automated mechanical monsters, for lack of a better word.”

“Cool.” Daring tapped her pen against her lip. It would be a gamble when it came to Queen Cicada. How much was she willing to part with? Would she be willing to part with anything? Was she just waiting for an excuse to come down on them with righteous, murderous fury? Did changeling ghost royalty even need excuses when it came to that? What about—

“Do you wanna see it?” The pony beside her pointed at something. “I mean, it’s right over there if you do. I’m just saying. It’s a cool discovery.”

“Not now, Dribble.” Daring turned away to gaze up at the giant clockwork gears chugging away on the walls. Each one was as big as a house, at the least. Each one had enough force behind it to crush a pony without slowing down. What drove them? What powered the—?

“I mean, I could give you a tour if you wanted.” The pony walked itself back into her peripheral vision. “And it’s Quibble. Not Dribble.”

Daring lowered the list, folding it away to a secure pocket. “I’m just a tiny bit busy, Earful. If you’ll—”

“Really?” The pony touched his chest, tilting his head back with a dour frown. “We’ve known each other for ten years now. Ten. A decade. Two fives. And you can’t be bothered to remember my name.”

“I remember your name fine, Scribble.” She slapped her forehead, biting back a curse word that would probably curl his mane. “If I look at your room will you shut up?”

Quibble Pants bit his lip, his eyes darting back and forth. “Technically, yes.”

“Make it ‘literally yes’ and you’ve got yourself an audience.”

Humphrey waited for them down a side hall. He stood next to a hole in the wall that she could have sworn wasn’t there before. “So good of you to join us, Friend Daring.”

“Hi, Humph.” Daring slipped a foreleg around the camel’s long neck. She hissed into his ear. “You were supposed to keep the tourist out of my mane.”

“A thousand pardons.” Humphrey’s large teeth ground together as he stepped aside. He lifted a gnarled hoof to invite her into the new chamber. “He has a way of getting away from me.”

Daring Do rolled her eyes as she stepped inside. It was darker than the main room, having only a few burning lanterns rather than the magical illumination coursing through the ceiling. Dust kicked up beneath her feet. Humphrey and Quibble followed her in, Quibble’s mouth moving a mile a minute.

“I’m just saying, if the changelings didn’t want this room found, they should have locked it with something more complex than a four-digit code. I mean, we’ve already deciphered their numbering system, so it was easy as pie to pick out a combination with significance. Month and day of the summer solstice, by the way. Apparently a big celebration for these guys, judging by the glyphs we found in the main chamber. Armies of changelings all gathered together to remember the day—”

“Wibble Dance.” Daring Do’s heart sank as the room came into focus. “Shut up.”

The shadows became crisp and angular as her eyes adjusted. Automatons, just like her attacker, lined the walls, their chests open and empty. Dead, colorless eye sockets stared at her. Razor-sharp blades glinted, ready to gut anypony who dared awaken them.

Further in, other machines awaited. Larger machines, with passenger compartments. A six-legged tank. A winged, dart-shaped airship. A massive enclosed structure with lobster-like pincers. All of them carried forward the running theme of insectoid designs, from pill bugs, to dragonflies, to scorpions.

All of them had an open, gaping receptacle, ripe for a power source.

“All is well?” Humphrey poked his head through the doorway, his lazy eyelids narrowing to a keen edge. “Is there something wrong?”

“If Ahuizotl got ahold of these…” Daring galloped to the biggest vehicle—based on some sort of crustacean. Its claws were jagged, ready to tear wood, metal, and flesh asunder. “He’d raise a whole mechanized army… and… and it’d double as a hostage situation. He could kidnap anybody and turn them into his mindless robotic slaves!”

Quibble Pants grabbed an automaton by the cheek and tilted its head to the side. “Good thing he missed this room. Wouldn’t wanna think about what these things are capable of.”

“They are majestic, aren’t they?”

Daring Do’s back prickled from her dock to the crown of her head. She backed away from the tank to watch twin streams of green magic twist themselves into an approximation of a changeling queen. The ghostly afterimage swayed on its hooves, gesturing a skeletal horn towards the mechanical monsters. “My city was secure from all harm with these on patrol. Every enemy was seized. Every danger was uncovered. Every crime was prevented. ”

Daring Do eased herself towards the open door. A flapped wing pushed Quibble and Humphrey to take the hint. “Yeah, sounds great. Good efficiency, once you have the heart for it.”

“Indeed.” Cicada matched her pace, her faux wings fluttering her along. Her hooves drifted several inches above the stone floor, trailing green sparks. “And we never lacked for willing hearts. Not until our slaves rebelled.”

Quibble Pants choked. “How inconsiderate of them.”

“You make light, son of the earth.” Cicada lifted a dangling hoof to point straight at his chest. “It was a tragic hour for my kingdom when I was forced to put down the rebellion. So many ponies died that day…”

Humphrey reached beneath his robes. Daring couldn’t imagine what sort of weapon he thought would be effective against a ghost. “Pony slaves, of course.”

“Of course.” If Queen Cicada had eyes, they would have bored holes in Daring Do’s skull. “They have the most effective magic for working our devices.”

“Yeah.” Daring flapped a wing in Humphrey’s face to force him out of the room. “Yeah. Looks like it’s getting late, you guys. We need to head up for the surface. Got a big day down here tomorrow.”

“What?” Quibble shot her a double-take, his muzzle scrunched to one side and his eyes wide. “You want to come back down here after—”

“We’ll talk later, Stubble.” Daring Do gave Cicada the biggest, most plastic smile she could create. “It sure was swell, Queen Cicada, but we’ve got to—”

“It’s a shame you couldn’t see the grandest collection.” Cicada tilted her ersatz head back, her hollow form tingeing the air with a distinct green pallor. “Unfortunately, your immortal foe absconded with it alongside my Spade of Hearts.”

Daring Do released a curse straight from the bottom of her breast. “Holy rutting horseapples. Of course he did.”

Humphrey backpedalled as Daring Do all but climbed over him to get past. “I take it this is bad news, yes?”

“You bet your third hump it is!”

“I have only the one!”

“It’s because you’re a lousy gambler!” Daring Do pulled her helmet low, her heart pounding, her eyes darting. Where did Ahuizotl find them? How could he have moved them? How did he move an entire army of mechanoids without anybody in Equestria noticing?

Where were they now?

“It seems our roles are reversed these days, Dr. Do.”

“Gadz—!” Daring hopped to the side, all four hooves leaving the ground. Cicada was there, hovering at her side. “Uh, how so?”

“Once, we changelings were masters and protectors of all.” Cicada circled Daring. Her glittering body froze in one position, always facing Daring, never leaving her sight. “Now you ponies have taken that particular blessing. Now the changelings are less than slaves. Less than animals. We are monsters to be exterminated.”

“Hay, look.” Daring pressed her hooves to her chest. She aimed her back against the wall and spread her wings. “I’m smart enough to know that not all changelings are evil. Just the dumb ones. I’ve got changelings for friends—”

“And yet Mandible follows you like a lost dog.” Cicada leaned in close, taller than Daring by a full head. “He thinks himself your inferior. Utterly devoted and utterly subservient. How is that not slavery?”

Daring Do spread her wings despite the pain in her joints. Behind the queen, Quibble had picked up a stick and seemed prepared to brain the phantom. For some odd reason, Daring thought he’d be less than successful. “Wait. Look.”

Quibble paused, as did Cicada. “Speak,” the Queen said.

Daring removed her pith helmet and shook out her grayscale mane. She gazed into the padded liner, tilted her ears back, and breathed a sigh. “We lost someone. Someone very important to both of us. And… and we just sorta found ourselves in the same situation. So he’s stuck by me, and I’ve stuck by him.”

Daring stood up and set the helmet firmly on its proper perch. “And I’m gonna stick by Blankety Blank no matter what. Because he’s my friend.” She smirked. “Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.”

Every muscle in Daring Do’s body tensed as she walked through the changeling ghost. The magic that tied the queen together waivered and fell apart. The threads of light leaped at each other, weaving an erratic dance through the low light of the city.

Daring kept walking. She didn’t spare the bags so much as a glance. She put one hoof in front of the other, climbing a handy ladder to the entrance and hoping that Quibble and Humphrey got the hint.

Cicada waited for her at the top. She hovered before the entrance, her head low, her horn pointed at Daring’s ladder. Daring sucked on her lips, her wings spread for a quick glide back to the bottom.

The expected blast of magic didn’t come. Cicada spoke in a low, buzzing, distorted voice. “A friendship such as yours is one I’ve not seen in a long, long time.”

“Um.” Daring grinned and leaned her elbow on the edge of the ladder. “You just need to get out more, that’s all. Kinda hard to nurture friendships from inside an underground city and stuff.”

Cicada might have nodded. “When you return, remind the changelings of what once was. Of what might be again. I look forward to seeing your relationship develop.”

She vanished without a trace. Not so much as the burning scent of magic or the crackle of sparks was left in her wake.

“It’s totally not politically correct for me to point this out…” Quibble Pants climbed onto the ladder, sending tremors wriggling upward. “But she’s super-spooky, right? Ridiculously spooky. One of the spookiest queens ever. Is that just me? We’re all thinking it, right?”

Daring groaned and rested her head against the cold, stone floor of the changeling city. She hauled herself up with her forelegs and steadied herself at the edge of the bridge. “Just pack up the stuff and let’s get back to camp. I think I’m about to go on a long, long trip.”

***

Martial Paw deflected the tip of his opponent’s blade. The griffon opposite him reeled back for another stab, but it was just as easily knocked aside. “You’re telegraphing. If you’re going to stab, then stab. Don’t make a big show of it.”

The other griffon swung his sword in a figure-eight pattern. Martial took a calculated step back and watched the rapier contact thin air. “It’s pretty, at the least.”

“Aw, sh-shut up.” The other griffon lunged with the weight of his entire body. Martial stepped to the side and drove his opponent’s sword into the dirt. The griffon stumbled and sank to the ground, scuffing his pure white feathers with dirt and grime. His pink eyes narrowed to slits as he glared at Martial. “N-now you’re just showing off.”

“No, that’s what you were doing.” Martial twirled his sword along the edges of his talons. The ornate hilt flashed as it caught the light of the evening sun. He held the blade pointing up in a brief salute. “Swordsmanship is about speed, not strength. Precision, not force. If you have a sharp blade, it should only take the minutest of movements to injure your enemy.”

Martial reached his talon down. The other griffon grasped his foreleg and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. He brushed the dust from his formerly pristine feathers. A tuft of down drifted around until it vanished in a blaze of green fire.

The griffon brandished his blade, raising it above his head, his free talon held forward. “Ready for another go?”

Martial’s thin blade whistled through the air. “At your leisure, Mr. Blank.”

Blankety Blank stabbed thrice in quick succession. Martial’s blade countered each time, allowing Blank’s rapier to slide edge-to-edge with his. Blank swung, gripping his sword with both talons. Martial leaned back, shifting his paws to put him to his opponent’s left. With Blankety’s sword completely opposite him, he was open to jab Blank in the flank.

Blankety all but tumbled away, his wings flapping erratically. He swung his rapier with crazed jerks of his talon. Martial walked back, his blade at an angle, ready to catch the sword should it come too close. His opportunity came in the form of a half-baked jab. He looped his sword around, slipped it underneath Blank’s crossguard, and sliced upward.

Blank’s sword leaped through the air into Martial’s waiting talon.

Blankety Blank rubbed his talon. His beak hung open, his tongue feeling around for some sort of response. “Huh.”

Martial flipped Blankety’s rapier around and allowed the disguised changeling to grab it. “I’ll admit it. That was showing off.”

“Really.” Blankety Blank’s body sparked with green flame. It burned away the white feathers, revealing black carapace from head to hoof. The sword hung in his magical grip before sliding into a scabbard. “I w-wouldn’t have guessed.” He glanced from side to side, his multifaceted eyes flickering. “Can you teach me that trick?”

“In your case, I think we should get the basics down first.” Martial aimed the tip of his sword at Blankety’s cloven hooves. “Overcoming your unfamiliarity with fingers, for example.”

Blankety nodded. He walked across the campsite to his tent, where he stowed away the scabbard among his satchels. He opened a clamshell mirror, touching the hard exoskeleton of his cheek.

Martial passed an eye over Blank, searching for injuries. He gave the side of the changeling’s torso a double-take. He couldn’t see where his sword had struck. There was no damage. “Not a scratch, I see.”

“N-not much danger of that.” Blank’s horn sparked with the beginnings of a familiar, oft-used spell. “Our carapace has a lot of resistance to puncture wounds. Comes with being ba-basically bone.”

Martial grimaced. A painful memory struck, banished with the next thought. “I’ve seen swords cut through bone.”

“Th-then don’t hit me with one of those.” The flame ignited at the tip of Blank’s horn. It trailed across the surface of his body, replacing blackened chitin with a soft coat of white hair. He blinked, and his eyes became whole and unsegmented, a light pink in the irises. His angular, cloven hooves rounded out to become a smooth arc. His wings vanished entirely, as did his horn.

Martial scratched the raised feathers between his ears. The sight was always a spectacle, boggling and strange. To see a creature change so utterly, from griffon to changeling to pony, was a thing not many had seen and lived. Of course, he supposed it was because most changelings kept to themselves. If you saw a changeling transform, most times it meant it was too late for you.

Blankety shook out his pale, pale mane. “Who taught you to sword-fight? I don’t think they’ve got m-many schools for that in Equestria.”

Martial Paw returned his rapier to his hip-mounted sheath. He smirked, sitting on his haunches and crossing his forelegs. “Really, now? What gave you that indication?”

Blank raised an eyebrow. He clapped his forehooves together and shrugged.

“Touché.” Martial rested his talon against the hilt, stepping back from the entrance to the tent. The sun set behind him, casting an orange glow across the campground. A bird trilled a song that Martial knew well; he resisted the urge to hum along. “I learned swordsmanship from my father. He was the head of the Polemaetus clan, back in Felaccia. A long time ago.”

Martial closed his talons around his beak as he thought. He slacked his grip to get a word or two out. “He came up to me one day. ‘Marty, my boy, it’s time we leaned you somethin’ that’ll actually help you through life. On account of it’s hard for your enemies to stick a blade betwixt your ribs if you’ve already done so to them. Mapmaking’s swell for your younger years, travelling the world and makin’ a name for yourself, but when you’re an old buzzard like me, you’ll need somethin’ to keep you active.’”

He smiled, hunching his wings back and splaying the feathers. “So that was childhood. Mapmaking, navigating, and geography in the morning, swordsmanship in the afternoon.”

“Wait.” Blankety tilted his head to the side, scrunching his muzzle. “You’re a Felaccian noble?”

“No.” Martial waved a talon. “No, but that’s a different story altogether. Long story short, my father imparted his own love for the blade to me. I’ve practiced ever since.” He tapped a claw against the side of his beak. “And now it seems I get to pass the knowledge down.”

Blankety rubbed his chin. He stood to all four hooves and took a shallow bow. “Then I’ll t-try to be a pupil worthy of your father’s instruction.”

“I think you will be.” Martial clapped a talon on Blank’s back. “I will warn you: We have a name for the fighting style you were using back there.”

“Which is?”

“The Dead Griffon’s Twitch.”

“Oh har-de-har.”

“Time and practice. Years of it.” Martial spread a wing to point to the center of camp. “Now come on. Supper’s calling and if we’re lucky, Cookie’ll have an extra portion for two hardworking individuals such as ourselves.”

They had barely gone two steps before a commanding voice called out their names. They turned to see Daring Do galloping from the outskirts of the camp, barreling through the underbrush. She skidded to a halt beside them, breathing heavily, raising a hoof to ask them to wait.

Martial looked her over, noting several cuts and scrapes sustained from her headlong charge through the foliage. Leaves and ferns were stuck in her mane and tail. “Dr. Do, I presume.”

“Gugh.” Daring Do pushed her helmet back, baring her forehead. “Change of plans, guys. Pack up; we’re heading back for Equestria tonight.”

“Tonight?” Martial furrowed his brow. His gray-flecked feathers shivered against his sides. “What of the city? What’s calling us back home so soon?”

“First of all, that thing we awoke in the ruins.” Daring glanced around, laying her ears flat. “Queenie-poo? Yeah, probably should have stayed asleep. She’s kinda nuts. Secondly, you remember the big, angry mechanical ant that attacked us?”

“G-gonna be hard to forget,” Blankety said.

“Well, now Ahuizotl has access to a whole army of them.” Daring Do walked. Martial didn’t know what else to do but follow. “And since he’s stolen the Spade of Hearts, he has a way to power them. To control them.”

“Well.” Martial clicked his beak. He stopped beside the entrance to her tent when she went inside. “That’s not ideal.”

“No it ain’t.” Daring bustled around her tent, stuffing anything and everything into whatever receptacle was close by. “But it does give us an edge in knowing what sorta twisted plan he’s making up. And it can’t be easy to move that much machinery incognito. He’s gonna be harried. Careful. Slow.”

She popped her face through the tent flap. “And when he slips up, I’ll be the first in line to kick his tail.”

She glanced between Blank and Martial. “What are you guys waiting for? Get packed up! It’ll just be the three of us—” She slapped her forehead. “Drat! Marty, send a message ahead to the princesses and let them know we’re coming. Blankety, let the crew know we’ve gotta get the airship in the sky in the next couple of hours. Tell the camp Humphrey’s in charge until we get back.”

Martial flicked his lion’s tail, swatting an oversized anansi away from his flank. “Will we be back?”

“Maybe. Probably not.” Daring Do hefted a bag onto her shoulder. She trekked out of the tent, dragging another suitcase behind her. “Depends on how long it takes to put Ahuizotl down.”

The satchel hit the dirt with a powerful thud. “And trust me. This time? He’s not crawling away. We’re putting him six feet under or my name isn’t Daring Freakin’ Do.”

Martial tipped his beak, his talons gripped tight around the hilt of his second-favorite sword. “Whatever you say, Miss Yearling.”

***

Cadence sat at the head of the hall, a short distance removed from the two thrones of the High Princesses of Equestria. Celestia and Luna sat with assured smiles, their backs straight and their wings spread regally to catch the sunlight. The stained glass windows cast rainbows of light across the floor of the Grand Hall, on which dozens and dozens of ponies stood.

Nobles, reporters, curious citizens from all walks of life. It was a crowd the likes of which Cadence hadn’t seen since the last Crystalling. Of course, they all had good reason to be there. Very good reason.

King Andean Ursagryph sat on the opposite side of the platform, his Blitzwings arrayed around him in a protective shield. Their angled weapons were held straight up, propped against their shoulders. The weapons seemed different than the volleyguns they’d wielded against the assassin the last time they were in Equestria. No longer were they spears tipped with a bronzed cylinder, now they were almost completely tubular, with a firing mechanism near the back.

Cadence caught a glimpse of iron sights, much as she’d seen on a crossbow. No doubt these were tuned for accuracy.

“Cuss!”

Cadence smiled as she turned to the pony beside her. Her cousin, Prince Blueblood, struggled to hold onto his young daughter. “Now, now, Jade,” he said. “A lady does not swear in public.”

“Cuss!” Jade giggled proudly at her perfect enunciation. The little unicorn filly puffed her cheeks out until they looked like tiny green tomatoes. “Cuss!”

“Jadeite Jasmine Blueblood!” Blueblood clicked his tongue, turning to Cadence with something not unlike sheer terror in his eyes. “You’ve had three children. How did you manage to avoid this?”

“By never cursing around my children.” Cadence nodded, desperately trying to avoid the evil, evil grin she wished to offer him. “Yep. Seems to have worked pretty well.”

Instead, she reached across to touch her hoof to Jade’s soft cheeks. “You learned it from watching Daddy, didn’t you? Didn’t you?”

“Cuss!” Jade agreed.

“More likely from her mother,” Blueblood muttered at a low growl. “Honestly, Cadence, she’s too young to understand it’s wrong.”

Cadence smirked. “What’s your excuse?”

“Pish posh.”

“Pitch potch!” Jade said.

Blueblood lowered his eyelids. He placed a small kiss on his daughter’s lips. “You and I, we’re going to have a long talk about this once you learn Equish.”

“Squish!”

“Exactly.”

Cadence sighed as Queen Chrysalis II walked into the hall, accompanied by her entourage of loyal changelings. They huddled close together, staying around the queen’s legs. Ponies near the front of the crowd backed up several steps. They seemed to avoid looking the changelings in the eye. Cadence couldn’t blame them. She’d seen her husband under changeling control, and she suspected most of the ponies were old enough to remember the attack.

First at the wedding, and then all the subsequent plots the original Chrysalis had hatched, once upon a time. Kidnappings, sabotage, collaboration with beings imprisoned deeper than Tartarus itself. Everyone had been affected by a changeling at some point in their life, no matter how faintly.

“I suppose your wife stayed home?” Cadence spread a wing to lay it across Blueblood’s back. He cradled his baby girl, his expression sour and his horn buzzing with an uncast spell. “I’m surprised she allowed you to bring the baby.”

“She’s in no state to make decisions.” Blueblood ran a hoof across Jade’s mane. “And I want to keep her close.”

Cadence searched out a particular set of eyes. There, at the foot of the podium, with his fellow Royal Guardsponies. Shining Armor wore his full dress uniform, royal purple accents and all, armed to the teeth with javelins slung across his back. He felt her eyes on him and turned to offer a reassuring smile. His blue eyes met hers, kind and trustworthy, flashing with iron. Nothing bad would happen. Not under his watch.

“Fleur will come around eventually.” Blueblood settled back in his chair, holding Jade’s forelegs and letting her hind legs stand on his chest. “Once these changelings offer up proof positive that they’ll do as they say.”

Celestia stood up. The crowd hushed. She made her way down the steps to stand beside Chrysalis II. “Ladies and gentleponies, this is a very historic day.”

Cadence held her breath. She watched Chrysalis closely, judging her every move, every expression. The changeling hunched, her brow low. Her strange pink eyes jumped from pony to pony. Her hooves shuffled on the marble floor. Her wings vibrated against her carapace.

“For too long have the changelings and ponies lived in fear of each other.” Celestia jerked her attention away from the changeling queen. By contrast, Celestia stood tall. Her wings held steady to reflect almost heavenly light. Her voice was strong and sure. “For too long have we found ourselves embroiled in a conflict with no rhyme. No reason. No purpose other than the very hatred and terror it generated. Living each day fearing attack and reprisal. Living each day in fear of one who could be our friend.”

She threw a hoof out, startling Chrysalis. “The changelings have made the first move, my little ponies! They have come to beg for friendship. For peace! I promise you now, as I always have in the past, that I shall do everything in my power to make Equestria a safe, secure, joyous place for all creatures.”

She looked over the room, panning her head slowly. Cadence knew from experience that every pony in the audience would feel, if only for an instant, that Celestia was looking directly at them, and them alone. It was a neat trick, all told, appearing to focus on everything while only focusing on one or two general locations. She’d tried it herself on occasion, though whether the illusion was successful, she might never know.

Celestia, though? She was a pro.

“Friendship begins with a single step.” Celestia took Chrysalis II by the hoof. “The changelings have made theirs. Can we do less?”

High Princess Celestia of Equestria frowned deeply, from the edges of her eyes to the droop in her wings. “I know that many of you yet distrust the changelings on general principle. Most of you remember the dark times we faced not twelve years ago, when all seemed lost. Rest assured, the ruler that facilitated those attacks is no longer at the head of the changeling kingdom.”

The crowd murmured, though it died the instant Celestia opened her mouth once more. “Their new queen is the very changeling you see before you. She came here herself, at the risk of personal harm, with a cry for help. Would you please lend her your ears.”

Chrysalis stepped forward and spread her wings. She kept her head down, barely looking at her audience. “I—I rejected Queen Chrysalis the Tyrant’s ideologies. Sh—she saw both the changelings and the ponies as expendable pawns in her quest to become all-powerful and all-ruling. Truly, I know that the changelings are family. Irreplaceable and… and oh so dear… ”

Her fangs pricked into her bottom lip as she stomped a hoof. “And ponies are not slaves, or livestock, or enemies. W-we are all people. We all have hopes and dreams and lives worth living. And… and I want that for my people as much as you want it for yours. Please help us do that.”

Cadence winced as Chrysalis II paused, seeming to choke on her own words. The changeling forced them out, one by one, her voice weak. “As proof of our dedication to peace between our kingdoms… I present to High Princess Celestia…”

She blinked rapidly, her eyes turned to her hooves. “The corpse of Queen Chrysalis the Tyrant.”

Celestia raised her wing and her voice. “Bring in the gurney!”

The doors parted behind the crowd. The squeak of wheels on marble was soon overpowered by gasps and cries of horror. Royal Guardsponies made their way down the hall, splitting the audience to give the gurney room to travel. Six ponies pulled the ropes, while three others pushed from behind. A lump of white cloth covered the payload, but there was little mistaking what lay beneath.

The guard at the lead removed her helmet, shaking out her green mane. “Your Majesty. We found this just where Chrysalis the Second said we would, right in the depths of the Badlands. With your permission?”

Celestia bowed her head. “Proceed, Captain Carrot.”

Care Carrot’s horn shimmered with a pink glow. The sheet was cast aside to reveal a charred husk of a changeling queen. “The mortal blow was dealt by a spear through the torso. The body sat exposed to the harsh wind and stifling heat of the Badlands for years, now. There’s not much left but empty carapace.”

She glanced over her shoulder, giving Celestia a nod. “But there’s little doubt. This is her.”

Celestia stomped a hoof, preempting her subjects’ questions and protests before they could emerge. “I asked Captain Carrot to bring this here because I want you to see the evidence. The proof. The assurance that the changelings have indeed cast aside the old ways in favor of a new tomorrow.”

She spread her wings and lit her horn with a majestic glow. “Spread the word, my little ponies. The peace talks begin now!”

The crowd erupted in an indecipherable roar of questions and shouts. Cadence could barely focus on any of it. She locked onto the cadaver sitting across the hall, its hollow eye sockets staring at nothing, and its mouth open in a silent scream of agony. This was the enemy who haunted her darkest nightmares. This was the monster who nearly took away everything Cadence held dear. This was the creature that had nearly killed Twilight and Celestia, nearly prevented her children from ever being born.

Chrysalis the Tyrant was dead. Slain by a spear in the depths of the Badlands. Left to die alone. Left to bake in the sands.

Cadence really didn’t want to feel happy. She didn’t want to feel exhilarated that such a constant fear was vanquished. Squashed like a bug. Annihilated. Made null and void. She felt bad that she could even think of the death of a creature to be a good thing.

“Heaven’s above, what is that expression supposed to be?”

Cadence snapped out of her reverie. She stared at Blueblood with a deep blush on her cheeks. “I’m sorry?”

Blueblood covered Jade’s eyes with a hoof. He lowered his eyebrows, nibbling his lower lip. “Your expression. It’s, shall we say, totally inappropriate for the circumstances?”

Cadence almost laughed. She tightened her throat to hold it back. “What do you mean?”

“Cadence. Dear cousin. You’re smiling.” Blueblood shook his head. He turned back to the corpse and suppressed a gag. “And it is not an entirely friendly smile, either.”

“I…” Cadence blew a breath through pursed lips. “I think I need some air.”

Celestia lead Chrysalis II out, heedless of the reporters and nobles screaming her name. Luna brought the Royal Canterlot Voice to bear, shouting down even the loudest protest. Andean was content to sit quietly, regarding the proceedings with a cocked brow and a palm on the pommel stone of his sword. Care Carrot spoke with Shining Armor, before leading the gurney into the back of the hall to be stored wherever Celestia deemed fit.

Cadence watched Chrysalis the Tyrant until she vanished from sight. She set her jaw and wished desperately that she didn’t feel utter elation.

Her ears burned. She snapped her head around to catch the younger Queen Chrysalis staring at her through an open door, tears staining her blackened face. The changeling queen ducked away, her wings fluttering in her wake.

“I suppose that horrid queen was her mother,” Blueblood said, rocking his daughter back and forth. “Must be a strange thing indeed to experience all this. Her family tree may be more messed up than my own.”

Blueblood snorted, pressing his lips against Jade’s forehead. “And here I’m distantly related to Sombra himself.”

“I think you’re a little farther removed from pure evil than she is.” Cadence stood up, more from nervous energy than a reason to stretch her legs. “I’m still not entirely convinced.”

Blueblood sighed. He stood as well, placing Jade on his back. She gripped his mane in a vice-like grip and pulled back. He grunted, but otherwise took it in stride. “I dare say, Cadence, I’m hard-pressed to think of anything that would convince you.”

Cadence offered him a small, lopsided grin. “Divine intervention?”

“I’ll put it on the list.” Blueblood shut his eyes and moaned. “Now to look forward to several hours of fruitless negotiations before I must go home to console my hysterical wife. It’s a wonderful life, Cadence. Blinking wonderful.”

“It’s about to get worlds better.” She tilted her horn towards the doorway most of the royals had escaped through. The crowd was getting rowdier by the minute, scraping for even the smallest exclusive. Any edge on the competition. “Shall we be off before they skin us alive?”

“Let us,” Blueblood said.

“Cuss!”

“Please hush, Jade.”

***

Spike swallowed hard. His tongue failed to find an appropriate response. His eyes barely believed what he saw. His ears stung as Flurry Heart wailed at the top of her lungs, utterly and completely inconsolable.

Sweetie Belle’s front door was shattered. Everything in Carousel Boutique was upturned. Cloth and ponnequins lay scattered and spoiled. Caution tape covered the gaping entrance, and police ponies swarmed the business-cum-home. A blood stain was plainly visible in the middle of the showroom floor.

Silver Lance tucked himself beneath Spike’s tail, his eyes wide. “What happened, Spike?”

Flurry Heart hiccupped as she ran out of air. Her face was red and tear-soaked. Her wings covered her head in an attempt to banish the impossible vision.

The impossible vision that had come true.

Twilight Amore hovered above and behind, planting her forehooves on the crown of Spike’s head. She frowned at the chaos within the boutique. “Sooo… where is Sweetie Belle again?”

“She’s gone!” Flurry sobbed. “She’s gone and Scootaloo too! I saw them!”

Spike knelt down and wrapped his arms around her. He brushed her cheek, trying and failing to look her in the eye. “Flurry. It’s… it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have—”

She buried her face in Spike’s chest, weeping with all her strength.

Spike sucked in a breath through his razor-sharp teeth. He lifted a hand to hail one of the officers. “Excuse me! Is there anything you can tell us?”

The officer glanced up from a clipboard and shook her head. “Sorry, um, sir. There’s an ongoing investigation and—”

“I understand that,” Spike said, digging his claws into the pavement. “But as the personal assistant for Princess Twilight Sparkle, I think I might be able to help.”

Officer Clops held her breath. She released with a whoosh and lowered her paper. “Several members of the volunteer fire brigade were responding to an alarm bell in this area. They found Carousel Boutique as you see it now. Doors busted, everything torn up. The only pony inside was critically injured. They managed to get him to the hospital before he bled out.”

Spike stroked Flurry’s mane. “Sweetie Belle?”

“Nowhere to be found.” Clops shrugged. “Our witness wasn’t conscious to be questioned, so the crime scene’s all we have to go on at the moment.”

“Do you know his name?”

She flipped the clipboard back a few pages. “The fire brigade identified him as one of their own members. One Button Mash.”

“Oh gosh.” Spike knelt down to look his young charges in the eye. “Guys, I’m going to visit my friend in the hospital. I’m gonna find out who did this, why, and where they’ve gone. I’m gonna make this right.”

Twilight Amore wrapped her forelegs around her torso. “So that’s a ‘no’ for the tour of Ponyville?”

“You guys stay with Twilight. And Grandma.” He brought his knuckle up to bump Amore beneath the chin. “You’ll get the tour when the griffon princesses show up, right?”

Twilight Amore covered up a frown with a grumpy, half-interested expression. “Whatever. I guess the city’s big enough for the five of us.”

He patted Silver Lance on the head. “I’m counting on you to fill Twilight and grandma in, okay?”

Silver saluted with a sharp snap of the hoof. “Sir, yes sir!”

Spike turned to Flurry Heart last. Her sobs had receded, just enough for her to listen closely.

“I’m gonna find them, Flurry.” He gave her as reassuring a smile as he felt appropriate. He wasn’t entirely convinced, himself. “Do you trust me to do that?”

She shuffled her hooves. A wingtip brushed at her cheeks. “Maybe?”

Spike sighed, letting a plume of smoke roll from his nostrils. “That’s good enough for me.”

The Price of a God

Button Mash’s eyes fluttered open at a faint pressure on his foreleg. A white hoof carefully connected a tube to an assembly of bandages and plastic. A cooling sensation flowed beneath his skin, accompanied by a magical tingle.

“Welcome back to the land of the living.” Nurse Redheart smiled, checking the IV connection. “You were pretty banged up when they brought you in, but you’re already looking like yourself again.”

The air smelt of honey. He leaned his head against the pillow of his hospital bed and got a look at the liquid they were pumping into him. It was golden, shining in the harsh light. Ambrosia, then; that fantastical medicine brewed by Breezies. Keenly engineered to increase cellular production a hundredfold.

His free hoof traced across his chest. A cushion of bandages covered the ugly laceration. “Who—” His voice was a croak. His throat felt like the Sandidry Desert had moved in and made itself comfortable.

Redheart looked up from her work, her smile turning to a small frown. “Tell you what; I’ll be right back with a cup of water you can sip. Just hang tight, okay?”

Button tried to move, but the sharp bolt of white-hot fire in his chest held him in place. He blinked around the room, sighing as the lights dimmed a bit at Redheart’s exit.

“As first dates go, I’d say you win the prize, old bean.”

“Pip.” Button Mash lolled his head around. The short, sturdy colt himself was seated beside the bed, black rings around his eyes.

Pipsqueak offered a grin. It didn’t do much to hide his furrowed brow or warbling speech. “You’re… you’re looking like you could take on an army. With one hoof tied behind your back. Or hooked up to an IV.”

Button didn’t have the strength to roll his eyes, so he shot for candidness. “How bad… was it?”

Pipsqueak’s ears drooped in concert with his lips. “You looked like a deadpony. Pale, bloody, smashed to all heck. Nurse Redheart wasn’t joking when she said you looked better. It’s not a hard thing to do.”

Button rubbed his face and was rewarded with the sensation of several bruises dotting his muzzle and cheeks. “Oooow…”

“Snips is headed to your house to notify your parents.” Pipsqueak tapped his hoof against the armrest. “The poor fool volunteered, bless his heart. Can’t imagine that they’ll take the news well.”

Judging by their history with such, no, no they wouldn’t. Button’s ears perked up as Redheart returned with a foam cup. She flipped a folding table over his chest and set the beverage on top, within easy reach of his lips. She trotted back through the door, easing it closed behind her. “I’ll be along to check up on you in an hour or so. If you need me, just ring the bell above your bed.”

Button wished with every fiber of his being to guzzle greedily, but though the first sip felt like the best thing ever, the second sent nausea rolling through his body. Still, he could already feel his throat opening up and smoothing out. Just enough to make polite conversation.

“Did you see them?” Button said.

Pipsqueak jolted, shaking his head and blinking his eyes. “See who?”

“The ponies that took Sweetie Belle.” Button Mash stared at the ceiling tiles. Something coiled in his chest, tight and choking. “Th-they… did you see them?”

Pipsqueak rubbed the back of his neck, wincing as he found the knot he was looking for. He pressed with the edge of his hoof and looked away. “No. It took us a few minutes to realize what the emergency bell was for, and by then you were the only one in the house. Featherweight flew off to get a hospital wagon, while Snips and I…” He cleared his throat. A long exhale found its way between his pursed lips. “Tried to stop the bleeding.”

Button Mash pressed his teeth together. He took a slow sip, filling his mouth and sloshing it around. He ran his tongue over cracked lips. “I appreciate that.”

“Figured.” Pipsqueak’s smile returned, weak but earnest. “Gotta say, I never thought I’d see the day Button Mash got into a fight. I’ll bet you gave the dastard a run for their money, hmm?”

“I never laid a hoof on him.” Button Mash rested his head against the pillow, letting his ears bunch up beside his head. He gazed at the infinitely uninteresting ceiling tiles, faintly wishing they would collapse and end it then and there. “He was in control the entire time. We never stood a chance.”

Moisture pooled at the edge of his eyes. A biting pain rallied behind them, forcing its way into the open. “He took them and I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t do a darned thing.”

“Hold up, now.” Pipsqueak sat up, half-reaching for Button. “There’s no need to beat yourself… up…”

He slapped himself in the face. He slumped back into place, rubbing the edge of his muzzle. “In any case, you did more than most would.”

Button tried and failed to hold back sobs hiccupping their way out of his chest. Each gulp of air stretched his ribs. Each tear pressed past blackened bruises. “I couldn’t do anything.”

Pipsqueak sighed. He shook his head, turning it towards the floor. “Maybe we both need some rest.”

Their ears perked up at a thump from the doorway. Button saw a flash of purple scales beyond the crack. “Button? It’s Spike.”

Button opened his mouth, but found it harder to find the words than when his throat was dry and aching. Pipsqueak raised an eyebrow, and Button nodded.

“Button says come in, Spike.” Pipsqueak leaned his cheek on a hoof, waving the dragon in with the other. “Just don’t expect the best company.”

Spike eased himself inside, careful to avoid scratching the floor with his lumbering claws. His tail snaked behind him, twitchy and shaking. “Holy cow. Button?”

Button Mash took a sip to calm his nerves a smidge. “Mostly in the flesh.”

Spike dropped to all fours and scuttled up to the bedside. He looked Button up and down, his jaw hanging loose. “Whoa. Are you gonna be okay?”

“Full recovery, the nurse said.” Pipsqueak waved a hoof, his eyes tracing a line on the far wall. “Physically, he’s gonna be fine.”

Spike rubbed the scales on his forehead. A soft breath blew green fire between his lips. The flames rolled and spun in the air, transforming from cinders to a pad of paper and a feather pen. He caught the both of them and stood ready to write. “I’m going to help them Button, but I need you to tell me what happened. Who took Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo?”

“Scootaloo?” Pipsqueak snapped his head around, his ears lowered. “Did I miss something?”

“They took them both,” Button croaked. His breath shuddered on its way out. “They took them both.”

“Who?” Spike’s claws closed tight around the paper, pocking holes through several sheets. “Who was it, Button?”

“You’ll never believe me.” Button wiped his eyes on his sheets. He stared at his hooves, one battered and the other pumped full of medicine. “I don’t believe it myself. It’s too stupid.”

Spike gritted his teeth in a dire grimace. “I’ve seen my fair share of stupid stuff, and it hasn’t stopped it from being true. If we’re gonna save Sweetie and Scoots, I need to know.”

Button looked from Spike to Pipsqueak and back again. He heaved a sigh, a fresh wave of nausea kicking him in the gut. “They called him ‘Caballeron.’”

Pipsqueak might have snorted, but he cut it short enough that it was hard to tell. He turned red-tinged eyes to Spike. “You may want to come back later, when he’s had time to—”

“I’m not crazy,” Button said. “And I’m not making it up. He looked like he was pulled right from the page, too. He smashed me into the ground, cut me open, and carried Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo away.”

Button shut his eyes tight and swung a hoof. “And I took it like a clod!”

His foreleg bumped against the cup, sending it tumbling towards his lap. Spike caught it with a snap of his wrist and set it back on the folding table.

“Thanks,” Button mumbled. He fell limp across the bed, resting his aching limbs. The ambrosia tingled within his body, coursing through the fairy strings that carried magic from his heart. “What are you going to do? What can you do?”

Spike smirked, grim and growling. He scrawled the pen across the page with swift, spiraling strokes. “The first thing I always do when the going gets tough. ‘Dear Princess Celestia…’”

***

Sweetie Belle held her head in her hooves, fighting back a headache to end all headaches. The world around her was dark and cold, wet to the touch. Stone sat beneath her. And above her. And to every side. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, raining mineral water to a haphazard drum beat. She leaned her back against the tall wooden stakes caging her in.

Her glasses were smudged. She tried to wipe them on her coat, but it was matted with grit. She settled for getting them mostly usable and set them on her nose. “Hello? Hello! Is anybody there?”

“Sweetie?”

“Scootaloo!” Sweetie Belle hopped to her feet. She spun in place, seeking out the source of the heart-warming voice. “Are you okay? Can you see me?”

“Nah. Been awake for a few hours now.” There was a clatter as Scootaloo kicked a rock across the stone floor. “Nothing but nothing. Haven’t even seen Caballeron since he threw us in here.”

“Caba-what?” Sweetie Belle shook her head and instantly regretted the rattling in her skull. “Ow. Never mind. Do you know where we are? Do you know why they took us? Do you know what they’re going to do—?”

“Sweetie, Sweetie, Sweetie! All these questions!” There was a halfhearted laugh. “What do I look like, an encyclopedia?”

Sweetie Belle let her horn tap against the wood bars as she slumped forward. “That wasn’t funny the first twenty-million times we made that joke.”

“Yes, it was. It totally was.”

Sweetie took a deep breath. She felt her heart pump slower. Stronger. A methodical, controlled beat. Her limbs tingled with the magic churning through her veins. It collected at the tip of her horn and manifested as a bright, shimmering green orb.

Scootaloo’s smiling face appeared on the far side of the room, sporting a black eye and a mussed mane. “Nice glowstick.”

“Thanks.” Sweetie Belle crossed her eyes to see the bulb of pure magic. It held steady, illuminating what little there was to see in the room. A pool of water separated the two of them, collecting the pitter patter from the overhead stone. “I’m not sure how long I should hold this, though. Without my medicine, it’ll start to hurt pretty quick.”

“Just hold it for as long as you’re comfortable.” Scootaloo bit her lip, looping her forelegs around the bars of her cage. “It’s nice to see a friendly face.”

“Likewise.” Sweetie felt a painful twinge ram through her gut. Button Mash. Last she’d seen of him was… “Do you think Button’s okay?”

“I…” Scootaloo shook her head, flicking her feathery mane. “I think I was out cold. Didn’t see him.”

“He was hurt.” Sweetie Belle rubbed her nose. Her horn dimmed, just for a moment, as she lost focus. “He looked bad.”

Scootaloo forced a grin onto her face. She swung a foreleg. “I’m sure he’ll be fine! The fire volunteers were on their way, right? No way they didn’t help him out.”

When Sweetie didn’t say anything, Scootaloo whispered, “No way they didn’t.”

“Right.” Sweetie Belle turned her head to light up the bars. They were thicker than a pony’s leg and—from what she could tell by leaning her weight on one—strong as heck. Oak? Cedar? Ironwood? Enchanted balsa? “Have you tried to get through the bars, yet?”

“Not since the last thousand times I ran head-first into them.” Scootaloo paced around in her cage, tossing a blob of water to herself. She caught it on the tip of her wing and rolled it from feather to feather. “They’re sunk into the ground. Damp, too, so they expanded to fill the space. I’ve seen cement that didn’t stick so hard.”

“Is there a door?” Sweetie Belle backed up to the center of her cell. The bars went right from the ceiling to the floor, like trees that had grown straight through the stone. “They had to get us in here somehow. Is it in the ceiling?”

“Shine some light on me.” Scootaloo hopped up with a powerful flap of her wings. She pressed her hooves between the hanging stalactites and came away muddy. “Nothing up here but us chickens. Not that I can see, anyway. Maybe there’s a password.”

A light flashed in Scootaloo’s eyes. She crossed her forelegs over her chest, shut her eyes, and shouted at the top of her lungs. “Kroota!”

The plink-plink-plink of the mineral water continued unbroken while Sweetie looked on in silence.

Scootaloo opened one eye. “What?”

“What the hay does ‘krudda’ mean?”

“Kroota.” Scootaloo grinned. “It means ‘friend’ in Griffish.”

Sweetie rolled her eyes. She rubbed her dirty mane and plodded around the edge of her cell. “Sometimes I do not understand you.”

“Different password, then.” Scootaloo clomped her hooves together. “Swordfish!”

Sweetie threw her head back. “It’s not gonna work, Scootaloo!”

“Abracadabra alakazam!”

Sweetie snickered. “Seriously? Are we making a serious effort at this?”

“Darn right!” Scootaloo grasped the bars with her forelegs and yanked. “Open Sesame!”

Sweetie couldn’t help but smile. “Shazam!”

“By the power of Brayskull!”

“Hocus pocus!”

“Allons-y!”

Sweetie Belle placed her hoof over her heart and sung aloud in her crystal clear voice. “Shoo be doo, shoo-shoo be doo!”

The stone rumbled. Ripples ran across the pool against the current created by the droplets. Scootaloo hovered just above the ground, staring wide-eyed at the jumping pebbled. “Wha—the heck?”

“Um.” Sweetie Belle wrapped her forelegs around a nearby pole to keep her balance. “Did it work?”

A wall fell away, revealing a door made from bronze and filled to bursting with clockwork. It disassembled itself more than it opened, sending pieces receding into the stone floor and ceiling. When the clack of gears and chatter of metal ceased, a coltishly-handsome pegasus stallion walked in. He tipped his sunglasses onto his forehead and flashed them a wink. “’Fraid not, lovely mares. Opens with a key.”

He strutted past, his head high and his shoulders wide. He pointed a wingtip at Sweetie Belle. “Wonderful song, by the way. Quite catchy.”

Sweetie Belle furrowed her brow, lowering her head to aim her horn in his direction.

He stopped before Scootaloo’s cage and leaned a knee against a sturdy bar. “Hello again, beautiful. Long time no see.”

“Waitaminute, waitaminute.” Scootaloo held her hooves out, swaying them back and forth between her and the stallion. “Waitaminute, are you seriously trying to flirt with me?”

He cupped his hooves beneath his chin and smiled. “Is that not a thing that a young stallion does when he meets a young mare who captures his fancy?”

Scootaloo blew a raspberry. She flapped her wings to get an additional couple meters of height on him. “Buddy, hate to break it to you, but clubbing a mare and dragging her back to your cave ain’t exactly in style nowadays.”

Sweetie Belle tried and failed to contain a snort. “He doesn’t strike me as the cavepony type, Scootaloo.”

“Ah. Scootaloo.” The stallion took to the air as well, swaying gently as he climbed to her level. “Scootaloo, Scootaloo, Scootaloo. The name just rolls like honey off the tongue.”

“Seriously, ew.“ Scootaloo flapped away, putting as much distance as possible between her and the stallion. “Seriously. That’s all kinds of nasty.”

He flipped onto his back, the pegasus magic in his wings holding him high above the ground. “Please, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Rhombus, and I am very, very pleased to meet you.”

Scootaloo stuck her tongue out. “The pleasure’s all yours. Now scram.”

Rhombus sighed and leaned against the bars, holding a hoof out to her. “I don’t mean you any harm. I just wish to have a chance to learn just who is this amazing mare that has left me enraptured.”

“Don’t mean harm?” Sweetie Belle’s horn flickered as she reared up against her cage. “What part of you kidnapping us doesn’t reach through your thick skull?”

Rhombus chuckled, turning to look over his shoulder. His eyes glinted in the light of Sweetie’s magic. “You’re an awfully accusatory mare. These circumstances are a wee bit beyond the ordinary, miss. I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

He favored Scootaloo with a smile that might have sent Sweetie’s heart fluttering in a different time and place. “But now I find myself unable to fight these feelings inside. I have to let you know what an amazing pony you are. I need to let you know.”

“Number one,” Scootaloo said, “you freaking kidnapped me. Number two, you’re a total psychopath. Number three, do I even need a third reason? Number four, my boyfriend will totally beat you up.” She punched the bar beside his face, gritting her teeth. “After I break your nose again.”

Rhombus’ smile shattered as his teeth ground. “Boyfriend, hmm?”

“Yep.” Scootaloo’s smile grew as his crumbled. “Twice your size, way more handsome, didn’t beat my friend’s date into a bloody pulp.” She tapped her lips, turning her eyes upward. “He’s in the Royal Guard, too, you know. Big-time hero. He’s already reached the rank of pony-at-arms.”

“Really?” A laugh popped from the back of his throat. It was swiftly followed by a spattering of giggles, quiet yet clear. “Dear me, how impressive. The single lowest rank assigned in the military. How long’s he been in? Six months? Seven?”

“A—” Scootaloo’s face went red. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

Something struck the bar beside Sweetie Belle’s face. She screeched and stumbled back as her horn went out. The cave returned to dripping darkness.

Mustering her reserves, Sweetie Belle stood up and sent power through the coils of her horn. A glint of metal sat inches from where her face had been. Ripples ran across the surface of the sharp, comb-tipped blade.

“It means, dear, darling Scootaloo, that I have a great deal more experience than your beau.” He smiled with his teeth as his eyes trailed down her body, studying every inch. “In terms of prowess in combat… and romance.”

Scootaloo glanced at the blade embedded in Sweetie’s cage, then gaped at the score of similar blades glinting throughout Rhombus’ feathers. She flew back, her voice trembling. “You don’t touch me. You don’t get to, you freak.”

“Not until you ask me, no,” he said quietly. “Not until you want it.”

A ball of water splashed against his face. His mane hung limp around his nostrils. He snorted water and parted the damp hair with his hoof.

Scootaloo hefted a second bubble of water, aimed with pinpoint accuracy. “Get out.”

His hooves tapped stone as he reached the ground. He saluted her with his wing. “It’s meant to be, dear one.”

“Scram.”

The bubble of water impacted near his hooves as he danced out of the way. He laughed as he trotted for the door.

“The type of mare that I did fear
I’d never meet in a thousand years
Her beauty, her beauty
Has reduced me to tears

Her eyes are shining with a light
And in my heart I know ’tis right
I’ll love that girl with all my might
This lovely darling mare”

He skidded to a halt just outside the door. Caballeron blocked the way, his mouth a sour curve holding a smoldering cigarette.

“Poni.” Rhombus bit his lower lip, fluffing his feathers. “How are you?”

“Peeved.” Caballeron shouldered his way past the young stallion, smoke wafting in his wake. He tipped his Ponyma hat at Sweetie Belle. “I apologize for my compatriot’s unwanted advances. He shan’t be doing that again.”

Rhombus scowled. “Now wait just a—”

“Shut up.” Caballeron flicked his tail, bringing himself close to Sweetie’s cage. He nodded to her glowing horn. “Don’t waste your energy. There’ll be light soon enough.”

He stood beside the pool to address the both of them. “Ahuizotl has demanded an audience with the both of you. I suggest you cooperate to avoid unnecessary injuries.”

“Yeah.” Scootaloo landed hard and flared her lavender-colored wings. “Yeah, how about no? How about you—?” Her ears leaped up as the hair on her neck rose. “What was that name you said?”

Caballeron’s cigarette carried a soft-glowing arc from one side of his face to the other. “Ahuizotl.”

Sweetie Belle narrowed her eyes. “What, like the Daring Do bad guy?”

“Please don’t say that name.” Caballeron rubbed beneath the brim of his hat. “Just come quietly.”

“No really.” Sweetie Belle caused her horn to glow all the brighter. The bright, green light coated Caballeron in a sickly pallor. “Owie… owie… That monster is from a kid’s book, right?”

“Um.” Scootaloo’s throat bobbed. “Um, Sweetie Belle?”

Caballeron kicked a pebble into the pool. His reflection was distorted by the splash, waving and stretching. “The monster is no fantasy, no children’s tale. He is as real as any of us. He wants to see you badly enough to force my hoof into all this.” He spat into the water and turned his attention to the door. “I suggest you do as he says.”

“But…” Sweetie Belle looked to Scootaloo. “What?”

Scootaloo tapped her hooves together. “Soooo… Rainbow Dash told me this funny story one time. Like, there’s actually a pony named Daring Do.”

Sweetie frowned. “What.”

“Yeah, and all her villains?” Scootaloo waved at Caballeron, who stood stone-faced and silent. “Totally real, too.”

“What?” Sweetie gave Caballeron a double-take, following it up with a glare at Rhombus. “What the heck?”

Rhombus snickered. “You know, that reaction never gets old.”

“Shut up.” Caballeron turned an ear, snuffing his cigarette into the dirt. “They’re coming.”

Sweetie Belle lay on the floor, perhaps from of some instinct to keep herself out of sight. It was pitiful, she figured, but she felt just the slightest bit better. Hoofsteps rattled from the corridor beyond the door. A cloaked figure lead a line of ponies—earth ponies all—through the entrance. The ponies were coated in paint, spiraling designs and jagged patterns. They spread out to fill every corner of the room, leveling spears at their captives.

Kiln took up the rear, coming alongside Caballeron and Rhombus. He brought his brows together and shook his head. “This is when we sell our souls, Poni.”

“Hush.” Caballeron lowered his head, glaring at the cloaked pony out of the corner of his eye. “Let them do their work.”

The cloaked figure threw his purple hood back. His face was painted in a similar design to his fellows, with solid green around his eyes and yellow bars across his cheeks. His cape was trimmed with blood-red, the seams lined with gold thread.

Beneath the paint, Sweetie could see that he was an old pony. ‘Granny Smith’ old. His neck was sagging with loose skin, and his eyes were foggy and pale. He spoke words that Sweetie had never heard before, and she was pretty sure a pony’s throat was physically unable to make the sort of strange, throaty, garbled noises he was spewing.

The bars of her cage came to life. Green returned to the deadwood. Buds sprouted along their lengths. The lengthy trunks wriggled from the ceiling to the floor, like an octopus squirming through a sunken hulk. Sweetie screamed, scooting herself to the middle of the cell. The two bars in front of her, now living vines more than anything, parted and retracted from the ceiling. They formed a round doorway in the cage, and the pony beckoned her out with a hoof.

She felt a spearhead nudge her in the back. She felt it prudent to step through the gap before she was skewered.

The cloaked pony spoke another incantation. The vines returned to their placed, becoming firm and dead once more. He pulled the hood over his eyes and spoke to the painted ponies. “Take the prisoners to the audience chamber.”

His bitter, milky gaze chilled her to the bone. “Caballeron, you will accompany them.”

“Will the surprises never cease?” Caballeron nodded to his cohorts and took his place at the rear of the procession. Kiln and Rhombus eased themselves into place at his side, their ears low and their tails hiked.

Sweetie Belle bumped shoulders with Scootaloo as they were shuffled along at spearpoint. “You can’t be serious about the Daring Do thing, can you? Do you realize how crazy it sounds?”

“Crazier than being kidnapped by a murderous cult?” Scootaloo tried to spread a wing and nudge one of the muscle-bound painted ponies away, but the stallion nudged back with the butt of his weapon. “It’s sort of an open secret among the higher-ups in the military. Since Rainbow Dash bears an Element, I guess that puts her pretty high up.”

Sweetie Belle shook her head. Her glasses slipped down her nose. “And she told you why?”

“’Cuz sisters talk about awesome stuff like this.” Scootaloo gave Sweetie a grin that seemed to be more bravado than happiness. “And I swore on my pinions I’d never tell.”

Sweetie looked back to see Caballeron looking right at her. She wondered if that was as creepy as the fact that Rhombus had never let Scootaloo leave his sight. “So all the books and movies and stuff are…”

“Autobiographies.” Scootaloo tilted her head. “Kinda. Historical fiction? Yeah, that’s it. Historical fiction. Embellished reality.”

The walls were smooth, carved and polished. Arches of stone blocks stood at even intervals, on which torches were mounted. Heavy drum beats rumbled through the hallways and tunnels. Leading them towards what Sweetie could only assume was the central room in the maze. Chanting joined the din, striking her to the core with cold shivers.

“Ahuizotl!”

“Ahuizotl!”

“Ahuizotl!”

“Ahuizotl!”

“It’ll be cool,” Scootaloo said in a hushed whisper. Her head swiveled every which way, her ears tilting to listen to what she couldn’t see. Her grin fell by the second as her wings vibrated against her sides. “Daring Do’s gonna come save us. With a whole army behind her. And, like, the Elements of Harmony, too. So, Rainbow Dash’s gonna be there. We’re cool. Totally cool.”

“Ahuizotl!”

“Ahuizotl!”

“Ahuizotl!”

“Ahuizotl!”

“Be still,” the cloaked pony said. “You shall speak only when spoken to. Otherwise you shall merely listen. When the Great God Ahuizotl speaks, all must take heed.”

Scootaloo snorted. “Yeah, right.” She was rewarded with a jab in the side, sharp enough that the spear drew a trickle of blood. “Ow! Watch where you point that thing!”

“Enough of your nonsense.” The cloaked pony stared straight forward, waving the painted pony off. “You invite the wrath of our Lord of the Sun.”

“Ahuizotl!”

“Ahuizotl!”

“Ahuizotl!”

“Ahuizotl!”

The chant reached a fever pitch as they drew upon the end of the hallway. The drum’s frantic tattoo climaxed in a rumble like thunder. Hooves stomped, voices screeched, and one final wail was heard before all fell silent.

The rounded room was dark, with the only light coming from the torches lining the single curving wall. Painted ponies stood on a ledge, three meters high, which ran across the entire circumference. A drum the size of a pony hung from the wall to the right of the entrance. In the middle of the room there lay a large stone block, blank save for the aged cracks that slithered across its surface.

A throne carved from the same stone as the cavern walls sat opposite the entrance, empty.

Sweetie Belle shivered. Cold, tired, hurt, hungry, and the sole focus of a completely unwelcome audience. The expression was the same for all of them: Cold disdain. Judging her as something inferior. Something unwanted.

Then why was she even there?

The cloaked pony stepped forward and lowered his hood. His ragged, oily mane flopped against his neck. “Almighty Ahuizotl, Rightful Raiser of the Sun, Lord of the Jungle, God of the Painted Ones. Your loyal servant Dissero speaks. We have brought you the mare Sweetie Belle exactly as you desired. Alive and unharmed.”

Sweetie Belle held her breath. The throne held no sign of life. The stone block was plain and unchanging. She chanced a glance at the ceiling and saw nothing but smooth bricks. It was impossible to shake the unease flowing through every fiber of her being, oozing from every pore.

Now there’s a nasty analogy, she thought, but still accurate.

She heard a faint splash. She tilted her head to look past the massive block, and found a small pool like the one in their prison.

The water exploded in a fine spray that spread across the entire room. Sweetie flinched back, but found herself completely dry. She glanced at Scootaloo to see her holding back the deluge around them, her wings spread and shimmering with the magic of the pegasi. Scootaloo winked and let the wall of water drop.

Sweetie smiled back. When she returned her thoughts to the pool, any hope for relief was murdered in an instant.

At first, it was merely an oppressive, dark shape. A thing that haunted her in nightmares and lurked on the edge of perception. When it stood up, and she saw the rippling sinew, the jagged grimace, the fierce claws, the piercing yellow, glowing eyes, it became something worse. It became unavoidable, horrifying reality.

A paw smashed the floor beside her. A head the size of a pony grimaced down at her, opening a mouth with more teeth than a family of sharks.

The cloaked pony, Dissero, drew to Ahuizotl’s side. He glared at Sweetie with his milky eyes, his mouth a sinister sneer. “You, Sweetie Belle, have the power to unite hearts with song. Ahuizotl desires this power be made of use to him.”

Sweetie Belle shook her head, turning away. “No! No way I’m helping him with anything.”

Dissero’s sunken eyes flashed. He reached back to slap Sweetie across the face. “You dare speak against the Al—”

Ahuizotl spoke with a bellow. “Dissero!”

The cloaked pony shut his mouth and all but shrunk back into his cape. He bowed his head until it was nearly touching the ground. “Master.”

Ahuizotl’s tail snaked around. She nearly gagged when she saw it was tipped by a hand with four grasping fingers. The monster extended the index finger and beckoned her forth.

A beam of brilliant white shot down from the ceiling. Sweetie took a gulp of breath and eased a hoof up.

“She doesn’t have to do anything you say, scum-wad!” Scootaloo broke free from the Painted Ones. She shot forward with hooves swinging. “Daring Do’s gonna—!”

The monster flicked the wrist of his tail. Scootaloo spun out of control and crashed against the side of the stone block. She groaned and clutched the side of her face, tears streaming across her cheeks.

“Scoot—!” Sweetie Belle reached for her friend, but was stopped by the mighty paw of her captor. Her mouth hung open at his size, his strength, the wicked glee in his eyes.

Ahuizotl stood over Scootaloo, his teeth dripping with ichorous drool. “Daring Do is an aging mare. Weakening by the day. Slowing by the hour. Dying by the second. If you expect her to rescue you, you shall be sorely mistaken.”

He grinned his jagged, hunger-filled smile, placing a paw against his chest. “She could never keep up with the might of her immortal foe.”

“Ahuizotl!”

“Ahuizotl!”

“Ahuizotl!”

“Ahuizotl!”

He held up a paw to silence his sycophants. Ahuizotl gestured with a finger once again in the most unnerving way possible. “Step into the light.”

Sweetie did so. While normally her coat would all but sparkle in the bright light, the hours spent underground left her dulled and ragged. She resisted the urge to tuck her tail between her legs, but only just so. “W-what do you want with me?”

He leaned close, and she smelled decay on his breath. “I seek to use your gift for a greater purpose than mere radio stardom. With your help, Sweetie Belle, I shall become…”

He lifted his forelegs and shouted at the top of his lungs. “A god!”

Scootaloo snorted with laughter, spitting something out onto the ground. “You? A god? The god of what? Boring monologues?”

Ahuizotl looked over his shoulder with a smirk. “That’s very funny.”

His tail snapped out and snagged her underneath her chin. He lifted her by the neck, growling deep in his throat. “I will become God of the Sun! Lord of Equestria—of the world! I will take the rightful throne denied me time and again by that oaf Celestia, and that fool Daring Do!”

A ruffle of feathers near the rear of the procession stole Sweetie’s attention. Rhombus surged forward, his face a picture of handsome, fiery fury. “Someone has to stop this—!”

A spear butt to the gut sent him to his knees.

Sweetie Belle stumbled out of the light, sending magic flaring through her fairy strings. Her horn lit with whatever spell she could think of—a telekinetic bubble. She snagged a rock and tossed it at Ahuizotl, who batted it away effortlessly. “Put her down!” she screamed.

“Be still!”

The volume of Ahuizotl’s voice caused her heart to skip a beat. She sat down hard, her magic squelched, her breath stolen.

Ahuizotl climbed atop the stone block, Scootaloo struggling in his grasp. He placed his paw across his chest in a tight fist. “You, Sweetie Belle, have a voice that absolutely captivates the heart. Who spreads love through a crowd with a mere word. The very sound of your voice unites hearts.”

He placed a claw on either side of Scootaloo’s head and squeezed until she yelped. “I require a source of great power, Sweetie Belle, and pony hearts shall supply that power.”

“No.” Sweetie stomped her hooves. “No! I will not! I refuse! There’s nothing you can do to change that!”

Ahuizotl raised an eyebrow. “Indeed not?”

He smiled at Scootaloo, tickling her beneath the chin. “And you, dear Scootaloo. Your medical records state that you are the most powerful pegasus mage ever studied. How did you come to be so very lucky?”

Scootaloo pressed against the vice-grip of his fingers, scowling with all her might. “Clean living, little-g. What gives, anyway? What makes you think you’re a god? I don’t sing songs about you every Sunday Sunrise.”

Ahuizotl chuckled. “Am I not? Do I not have worshipers? Do I not have an immortal lifespan? Do I not have powers far beyond normal ken?”

He raised his paws to the ceiling. “Then please, explain; what separates a god—” A thunderous crash echoed through the room as he brought his fists down on the slab. “—from a mere immortal?”

The Painted Ones glanced at one another, none daring to speak. Dissero receded into the mass, leaving Sweetie alone in a sea of unfamiliar, hostile bodies. She could only stare as Ahuizotl laughed, swaying Scootaloo back and forth, his claws grinding into the stone.

“Omnipotence?
Celestia raises the sun
With a flick of her horn every morn
Yet holiness lacks
In her meaningless tasks
When it comes to gods, she isn’t one

”Omniscience?
Luna can read all your thoughts
When she writes your dreams every night
Yet mistakes, they were made
A deep price was once paid
And infallible, that she is not”

He drew a sword from his back; a large, curved saber, bedecked with a red pommel stone. He spun it through the air and caught it with his other paw, whirling with a flourish.

“Their followers are frenzied and ever so quick
To shower with praises and lauds
But if they aren’t divine, I’m left groaning to ask…”

“What
Is the price
Of a god?”

Scootaloo’s eyes widened as the blade reflected the white light from the ceiling. “Keep that thing away from me.”

“Don’t worry,” Ahuizotl said. “I’m not going to kill you.”

He threw the saber. It buried itself into the seat of his throne, half the length of its blade. The stone cracked in a spidering pattern, leaving the metal unmarred.

“Omnipresence?
Discord makes physics decry
The worth of its forsaken birth
But a tender heart hides
Beneath bluster and lies
Mere mortals can constrain his mirth

“He wouldn’t dare try to step out of line
Not even for thunderous applause
And deep in my mind I know he’s not divine, so…”

His voice grew quiet as he caressed Scootaloo’s cheek. She tried to bite him to no avail.

“What
Is the price
Of a god?”

His tail swept down to slam her back against the harsh stone. She let out a gasp, not having the breath for a scream. Sweetie Belle cried out and rushed forward, but was stopped by a wall of spears.

Ahuizotl held Scootaloo down with his paw while his tail snaked to his back. He drew a dagger from a sheath, letting its curved blade hover near Scootaloo’s throat. The tip touched her neck and slid to the middle of her chest, leaving a scratch but never breaking skin.

“Princess Twilight is an arrogant fool
Squandering powers obscene
With a single command Cadenza would rule
And become some untouchable fiend

“King Andean Ursagryph
A mighty warrior is he
But motivationally there’s a rift
Betwixt him and me!”

Scootaloo’s eyes widened. She looked down at the dagger and back to Ahuizotl’s mad yellow eyes. Tears welled up as she whispered, the barest of breaths taking her full effort. “Sweetie… Sweetie, whatever he says, don’t—”

Ahuizotl plunged the dagger. Light—bright, piercing, brilliant light—poured from Scootaloo’s chest. The monster reached through the glow and brought forth a purple gemstone, one that perfectly matched her eyes. Trails of magic wound their way from the stone to the dagger in her chest. Ahuizotl tugged, but the gem refused to pull away.

A roar erupted from the depths of his core. He pulled at the heart with all his might, his eyes flashing, his tail thrashing.

“Tonight you shall be mortified!
Overflowing with magic inside!
Glowing, pouring from within your hide!
Leaving all who will see terrified!
And truly I’ll be deified!”

Scootaloo turned her head to look right at Sweetie Belle. Her lips shuddered. “Don’t do it—”

A final tug pulled the heart away from Scootaloo. She fell mute, staring into the middle distance, her eyes lifeless and blank. The heart glowed all the brighter, striking Ahuizotl with thousands of tiny thunderbolts. His fur rose on end, prickling and crackling from the overabundant magic.

“What
Is the price
Of a god?”

Sweetie Belle ran. She ran as hard as she could and slammed her hooves into the side of the block. She reached as far as she could, sheer desperation lending her the strength needed to climb up. She fell beside Scootaloo and cupped her head. “Scootaloo! No! Scootaloo!”

Scootaloo continued to stare at nothing.

Sweetie screamed, holding her friend close. “What did you do to her? What did you do?”

Ahuizotl tucked the dagger away, holding the heart in the palm of his hand. “A pony is made up of three vital portions. There is the body, there is the mind, and there is the heart. If any one of these things is missing, or damaged, the pony ceases to be as they are.”

The magic tumult from the heart faded. A ripple of magic washed from the core, causing Ahuizotl to wince. “I separated Scootaloo’s heart from her mind and body. She is yet alive…” He tilted his head with a knowing smile. “For now.”

He climbed from the block to make his way to the throne. He wrenched the sword from its spot and returned it to his scabbard. He eased himself into the stone chair, which seemed a bit too small for him. “Though she can process information, though she must eat and sleep to survive, her memories of you, and Equestria, and all emotions thereof, are intrinsically tied to this heart. Her very spirit.”

Sweetie hugged Scootaloo tight, running her hoof over her friend’s wings. “It’s gonna be alright…”

“You shall do as I command, Sweetie Belle.” Ahuizotl extended a claw to tap against the heart. “Or I shall make Scootaloo’s very existence nothing but pain. Suffering. A loveless anguish.”

He nodded to Dissero. “So let it be written.”

Dissero snapped a sharp salute, his hoof held out from his body. “So let it be done!”

Painted Ones grasped her around the forelegs, pulling her away from Scootaloo’s body. Dissero barked his orders from the base. “Bring the pegasus to the mines and put her to work. Take the unicorn—” He spat the word. “—back to her cell to await the whim of Ahuizotl.”

Sweetie felt numb from her head to her toe. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. Her heart was too light. Her mind was too foggy. Her legs were boneless and weak. She was dragged away, her eyes locked tight on Scootaloo as the pegasus stood at a command from Dissero.

As she was lead to the hallway, she heard one last breath from Ahuizotl.

“What could ever
Be the price
But a spotless sacrifice?

“That
Is the price
Of… A… God…”

***

Cadence—along with Celestia, Luna, and Chrysalis’ entourage—had the tremendous honor of joining in the proceedings. The long, boring, legalistic proceedings. The minutia of governance. The cherry-picking of provinces and states.

“In conclusion,” Celestia said an hour too late, “is that the Badlands would receive aid in agriculture, weather control, and trade. You and I would work together very closely as we get you off the ground in economic terms. The changelings will be the most wealthy they have ever been.”

Chrysalis II shuffled in her seat, sending a glance at her advisors. “And Equestria would station a garrison of soldiers in our lands.”

“It’s hardly a unique thing.” Celestia spoke with a soft, yet strong voice that Cadence envied every time she heard it. “Equestrian Soldiers can be found all over the world. I make sure to keep tabs on them personally to see that they only act as they are mandated. Peace keeping. Search and rescue. Security.”

Cadence glanced across the room. They were in one of Canterlot Castle’s stateliest ballrooms, with bright, golden chandeliers and majestic tapestries. Heroes of old looked down on them with smiles. Grand deeds were celebrated with artwork. No less than five different portraits of Celestia from four different artistic eras were on display.

Andean watched from a balcony, as he had been invited. His beak clicked as he ruminated, his talons combing through his beard of feathers. He growled at Celestia’s words, enough so that Cadence felt the noise rumble through the air.

“I will have to consider this proposal. With my advisors.” Chrysalis II brushed a silky lock of her pink mane behind her ear. Her strange eyes flitted from face-to-face. “I… I did not intend to make the changelings part of Equestria. Just… just allies with it.”

“I understand completely.” Celestia smiled, spreading her soft-glowing wings ever-so-slightly. “We do not seek to infringe on your rights as a sovereign power, but to assist in your integration with the world at large—”

She paused, her ear cocked at a sound Cadence couldn’t make out. She turned her head and let out a tiny murmur. “Actually,” Celestia said, “perhaps now is a good time for you and your advisors to discuss your options. Perhaps we could reconvene in, say, two hours?”

“That.” Chrysalis II nodded. “That would be acceptable. I shall see you then.”

“Please enjoy the refreshments I’ve had brought to your room.” Celestia stood up and bowed at the neck. Chrysalis did the same and allowed herself to be ushered out by the Royal Scheduling Advisor, Natter.

“That was abrupt.” Cadence glanced up at the balcony. Andean had vanished. “What’s wrong, Aunt Celestia?”

“My emergency line.” Celestia’s horn lit up to open a window. A trail of smoke, sparkling with magical embers, swirled into the room and halted before her. They shifted and whirled into the shape of a scroll, which landed softly in her hoof. “Spike’s not one to send a message if it’s not something that requires my attention immediately.”

She gave Luna a wink. “At least, not in recent years.”

Luna nodded, stretching her four legs in time with her wings. “What does our young friend have to say? I know Twilight was working on a new breakthrough in vocalizing technology, but—”

“No.” Celestia held up a wing, hushing them. “No, it’s not that. Something’s wrong.”

She lowered the letter, her eyes unfocused. Her mouth worked quietly for several moments. “Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo are missing. Kidnapped, according to eyewitnesses.”

“What?” Luna’s eyes flashed with pure magic. Her hooves ground into the marble floor. “Who would dare? Who would dare to—?”

“He’s not sure. He—the witness mentioned the name Caballeron.” Celestia shook her head and folded the letter up. A spell turned the paper into dust, which drifted away on the breeze from the open window. “Is Captain Carrot still in Canterlot?”

Luna nodded. “She should still be here, yes.”

“Have her go to Ponyville and question the witnesses.” Celestia produced a new sheet of paper to scribble her notes on with a scribing spell. “When Daring Do arrives, I’ll put her on the case as well. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire, and if Caballeron’s around, Daring will best know how to deal with him.”

Cadence shrugged. “Bringing the old team back together again?”

“Blankety Blank makes three.” Celestia rolled the page up and shunted it to Nowhere. “And I expect they’ll seek out your mother-in-law’s input.”

Luna held her head high, her mouth a grim line chiseled in solid rock. “The Knights of Harmony ride again, and may the Creator have mercy on the souls who stand in their way.”

Author's Note

Rhombus' little ditty for Scootaloo is based on the chorus of 'Pretty Irish Girl' from Darby O'Gill and the Little People.

Ahuizotl's song is its own beast, unconnected to any songs. I would imagine it's a harsh song, with a coarse melody and thundering beat.

The Griffon's Omen

Chrysalis II ducked her head as she trotted aboard the Stella. Griffons bustled about, lugging odds and ends from one end of the airship to the next. A few gave her passing glances, but quickly resumed their activity. If she focused, she could taste the nerves in the air. These creatures were not happy in the slightest. Their routine had been upset. Their plans modified.

Mostly, she supposed, because of her. “Commander Bugly?”

The changeling at her side turned his scarred face her way. “My Lady?”

“Stay outside.” Chrysalis nibbled her lower lip. She scratched a thin line in the chitin with the edge of her fang. “In plain sight of the Equestrian Royal Guard. If something happens, I want Celestia to know about it.”

“As you wish, My Lady.” Commander Bugly’s one good eye looked up at her, calm and cool. Familiar and comforting. “Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own?”

Chrysalis brushed a lock of her silky pink mane behind an ear. “Andean means me no harm.”

Bugly scowled, an expression that cracked the hardened plates on his battered face. “Then who does he mean harm?”

“That’s what I wanna find out.”

Chrysalis’ hole-spotted hooves carried her through the airship’s envelope. Canvas was supported by a sprawling, cylindrical metal skeleton. Gasbags the size of a two-story building served to keep the vessel aloft. Two walkways, made from silvery mesh, went from fore to aft. She headed towards the front of the ship, where Andean Ursagryph had asked to meet with her.

A shock ran down her spine at a sound like thunder crashing. A cheer rose from a cluster of griffons standing in her way, all facing the front of the aircraft. She lifted her head above the sea of feathers, squinting her eyes to bring the source of the noise into focus.

King Andean Ursagryph held a weapon to his shoulder. It was long and thin, like a beam of cedar. The end crooked to form both a handle and a rest for Andean’s arm. He peered down the length of the rod, pointing it towards a ragged target some twenty-five meters away. He flipped a lever on the bottom of the weapon, clicked it back into place, and jerked a talon back.

The report was nearly deafening. Chrysalis laid her ears against her head and winced. A cloud of smoke stung her nose, almost as much as the rush of excitement from the griffons around her.

“Another red mark, Your Grace,” a charcoal-feathered griffon said. “Five in a row. Your skills are improving.”

“Nowhere near yours, Captain Barbary.” Andean lowered the weapon and handed it firmly to the griffon. “But… I can’t ignore the smoking target.”

He brushed black dust from his feathery beard. His eyes lit up at the sight of her. “Queen Chrysalis the Second. You’re just in time.”

His expression momentarily darkened as he spoke to the griffons around him. “Leave us.”

The griffons flew off in a flurry of wingbeats and loose feathers. Too soon, the small platform at the prow held only him and her, a griffon and a changeling. She averted her eyes from his overbearing—practically hulking—form, drawing it to whatever else could catch her attention. The glint of metal won out, and she found herself examining the weapon Barbary had left on a nearby rack.

“I see the latest volleygun model has captured your imagination.” Andean moved past her to take it in his oversized talons. He held it with the fire-spewing tip pointed away from her, towards the target. “The battle with Hurricane—and the subsequent defense of the Saddle Arabian border—revealed several oversights with the design.”

“I, ah…” Chrysalis fought against the urge to cough, putting some strength into her voice. She concentrated and confirmed what she’d expected: No malice from Ursagryph, just curiosity, earnestness, and… something faint, near the edge of her senses. A quiet strength. An assurance. It tasted like sugar. “I’m unfamiliar with the volleygun, I’m afraid.”

Andean smiled, like a child about to describe a favorite toy. “It’s a simple mechanism, really. Spark powder is ignited, and the resulting explosion propels a metal ball with enough force to cross the space of a hundred meters in fractions of a second.”

Chrysalis swallowed. “With the intent to do harm.”

“As it is with all weapons.” Andean brought the volleygun to his eye, aiming it downrange. “As a ruler, via coup no less, I suspect you’re familiar with such instruments of destruction.”

The sugary sensation turned sour in her antennae. Whether the change hailed from Andean’s mood or her own was more than she could say. “I’ve never handled anything more complex than a spear.”

“I’ve heard it said that changelings prefer a more physical combat style.” He pulled the lever down, and a small cylinder of metal flew from the side of the volleygun. “Perhaps it’s time to widen your experience. Care to take a shot?”

Chrysalis blinked. That curiosity, a savory core surrounded by salt, peaked, indicating that his was indeed piqued. If she allowed herself to admit it, there was something intriguing about the device.

“Even the most vile things can be put to good use.” Andean pulled identical cylinders from a pouch hanging from his side. He slid them in, one by one, raising an eyebrow. “I find target practice to be unequivocally cathartic.”

Now there were a couple of ten-bit words. “Unec—I’m sorry, I don’t…”

“Soothing.” He held the gun out to her, his voice gentle, yet insistent. “The vollygun holds four shots. Look down the barrel, and strike the target.”

One look in his eyes said she wasn’t leaving the ship until she did so. She nodded, taking the weapon carefully in her forelegs. Her hooves tingled, like it might explode right out of her grip.

Two sets of grooves sat along the length’ when lined up, they pointed towards where the ball would go. She steadied her forelegs and sought out the target. It was a hay bale, covered in cloth and painted with a red circle. Several holes already dotted the surface.

“Pull the lever down to ready the firing mechanism.” Andean’s massive head drew alongside hers, his ears turned away from the weapon. “May I ask how long you’ve ruled the changelings?”

“F-five years.” Chrysalis II pulled a lever along the side until it clicked. Something inside the weapon unlatched, unlocking other moving parts. “I… That’s how long my mother’s been dead.”

“Slain by your own hooves, so I hear. Is that accurate?”

Chrysalis gave the griffon king a sidelong glance. He watched the volleygun with his sharp eye, but she felt his attention directly on her words. “Y-yes. I killed her.”

“Matricide is no light matter.” Andean Ursagryph raised his talon at the target. “Pull the trigger along the bottom. Yes, that’s the one. Be prepared for some—”

The volleygun leaped back to strike Chrysalis right in the snout. Her ears rang with the aftereffects of the small, controlled explosion. She would have swore, if she knew any swear words. As it was, she silently cursed every authority she could think of.

Her forelegs shook as she handed the weapon back to the king. “I—I don’t think I like volleyguns.”

“I wouldn’t be discouraged.” King Andean’s beak tilted upward as he hid a grin. “The same thing happened to Corona the first time she fired one.”

“Your eldest?” Chrysalis rubbed her nose and blinked at the target. She’d hit it, somewhere near the bottom, far from the red dot. “Sh—she’s very lovely.”

“Thank you. I’m sure she’d be glad to hear it.” Andean clutched the weapon tight and stretched out a wing. He tapped his talons against the metallic device as his brow furrowed. “I wonder if I might ask you a few questions.”

“I figured that’s what the meeting was about.” Chrysalis shrugged, letting her transparent wings fold across her back. “And you wouldn’t be the first to have them.”

She lifted a perforated hoof, letting her gaze slide through the largest hole in her shin. The chitin was especially hard around it. “Ask your questions.”

Andean’s grip tightened around the weapon. “May I ask why you slew your mother?”

Chrysalis almost gave him a double-take. She was hard pressed to keep her expression neutral, especially with her ears still ringing. Her heart stuttered as she spoke softly. “Her plans to overthrow Celestia led to nothing but trouble for Changelings. Between the wedding attack, the kidnappings, the attempted infiltration, she left us with nothing but enemies. She was leading us to extinction. I had to do something.”

Andean was quiet for a moment. He moved his beak slightly, as if chewing over her words. “I believe you. I believe you are telling the truth.”

He turned his head to the side to look her directly in the eye. “But I also believe that the truth can be deceiving. Certain things can be omitted. That is a rather practiced response for such an intense action.”

Her mouth went dry. “I don’t know what else to tell you, Your Grace.”

“Then let me refine the question.” He pumped the lever several times until all the little cylinders were removed from the volleygun. “Why did you, in that critical moment, choose to end the life of Chrysalis the First?”

Something bubbled up in Chrysalis II’s chest. Something hot and dark and hissing. “I don’t have to answer that.”

“No, you don’t.” Andean set the volleygun back on the rack. “But I’d advise you to do so.”

He sat before her, folded his wings against his back, and clasped his talons. “Equestria is not the only country in this world, Queen Chrysalis the Second. Many other peoples and races rule various countries the world over. The zebras of Girrafrica. The minotaurs of Beefland. The donkeys of Lightning Gale. The list goes on. The ponies are not the only creatures that have fallen afoul of the changelings.”

Chrysalis’ wings vibrated as his voice deepened, grew quieter. The sugar was completely replaced by a dour spice, bitter and heavy.

“You will have to expand you scope beyond Celestia,” Andean said. “And if you wish to have my aid, I would very much like to know the person with whom I am allied. Do not be taken in by Celestia’s comforting tone. She will speak of liberty while chaining your country to hers. Trade will be through Equestria. Currency will be Equestrian. Your changelings will lose all sense of who they are… all in the name of becoming who Celestia wants you to be.”

Chrysalis II laid her ears across her head. She bowed at the neck with a heaving sigh. “I’d rather that than what we have now.”

“You needn’t settle for second-class citizenship.” Andean leaned forward, looming over her with a sharp glare in his eye. She felt a spice enter his words, flavoring them with energy and conviction. “You must be a nation of your own, not a lesser Equestria—”

“With all due respect, Your Grace,” Chrysalis said, “the changelings have nothing of worth to bring to the table. We need help just to stand to our feet.”

Andean closed his mouth. His breath was quiet as he waited for her to continue.

“We’re not a world power entering the arena.” Chrysalis swallowed hard. She felt the plates on her neck contract, scraping together as she shook her head. “We’re dogs licking up scraps at the master’s table.”

Chrysalis stood up and spread her wings. She bent a regal knee. “I should probably go. I don’t think we have much to talk about.”

“If you truly believe you have nothing to offer…” Andean stood as well, utterly dwarfing her with his brown-coated body. “Then that is what you shall produce.”

Chrysalis II blinked, fighting the sting of tears behind her pink-tinged eyes. She nodded, muttered what she hoped was a respectful farewell, and turned to leave.

“Chrysalis.”

She paused on the walkway. She turned an ear, but couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

A weight fell over her heart, emanating from Andean Ursagryph’s. His voice was strong, but there were cracks between the seams. Brittleness within the strength.

“There is a saying.” Andean picked up the volleygun and cradled it in his arms. “An old one that says: The Creator helps those who help themselves. However…”

Chrysalis sucked on her lips. She swished her tail, more to fidget than to swat the fly on her hind leg.

Andean loaded the weapon with a round and turned to face the target. “I believe we were meant to help each other.”

The crack of the volleygun rattled her nerves once more. She sped off, ducking around any griffons who didn’t get out of her way in time. She entered the open air with a sigh of relief.

“My Queen?” Bugly snapped his head towards her. “Did it go well?”

Chrysalis II stared straight ahead, her chest heaving. She licked her lips and set off at an unsteady trot.

“My Queen, are you well?” Bugly furrowed his brow. His coarse voice crackled as his short legs pounded to keep up. “Your heart is—”

“I have no idea what I’m doing.” Chrysalis glanced back at him, wiping her eyes with the side of her hoof. “I just… I don’t know.”

He placed a hoof on her shoulder. “You know that whatever you do, we shall follow you to the end.”

She looked her commander in his one good eye. Her blood ran cold. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

***

Spike sighed as he walked into the Ponyville train station. He rubbed his eyes and tried to let it sink in. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo both. Kidnapped. Button bloodied. It was surreal. Fire lit beneath his palms as he rubbed them together, begging him to do something. Something beyond just getting help. Something beyond—

He slapped himself in the face. Apple Bloom! Was she alright? Did she even know? Was she also wrapped up in this cockamamie plot?

“Howdy, Spike!”

He peeked through his fingers and spied the red-head herself. “Speak of the Unseelie…”

The whistle of an approaching train drowned out his response. She held a hoof over her ear, rolled her eyes, and galloped towards him. She slowed as she neared, her eyes losing a bit of their usual green luster. “What’s up, Spike? Y’ look like your best friend died.”

He craned his neck to give her a kiss on the nose, receiving the desired blush in response. “I’ll tell you in a bit. Stick around. Right now I’ve got a couple people to meet.”

“You and me both,” she said. She walked alongside him with a bounce in her step, a smile tugging at her lips. “Applejack’s greeting the Princesses from Felaccia before they head over to Twi’s castle. Should be here in a couple minutes.”

“Yeah, I heard.” Spike rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m here to meet their escort. There’s a mission I’m helping with.”

Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow. “Is it a cool mission?”

“Um.” Spike’s heart felt like it was going to crack. “I’ll tell you about it later. Like, right after we meet them.”

“Suit yourself.” Apple Bloom furrowed her brow as her big sister came into view. “Big” being a relative term, since Apple Bloom was much, much taller than her. “It’s her last year as mayor, you know.”

“Right.” Spike offered up a half-convincing grin. “We weren’t even old enough to vote when she was elected. She gonna run for a second term?”

“Heck no.” Apple Bloom brushed her mane behind her neck. The chuff of the engine heralded the appearance of the train itself, rattling down from Canter Mountain. “The dang mayorship’s been drivin’ her crazy. Drivin’ me crazy, too. I just want it done with, Spike.”

Apple Bloom tilted her head so that her cheek touched the tip of his crest. “You know… So’s I can move out. Get away from the farm. Be my own mare. Live a little. Can’t do that when I gotta pick up Applejack’s slack.”

“Harsh way to put it.”

“I’m feelin’ a little harsh lately. Dunno why.” She smirked down at him. “Got too old to blame it on teenage rebellion anymore.”

“Geezer,” Spike said out of reflex. It came out as a hiss, barely rising above the rattle on the tracks.

Apple Bloom frowned. “You don’t seem yourself. Is it that bad?”

“Worse.” His clawtips drummed on the wood floorboards. “Not the time or the place for it, though.”

“Gotcha.” Apple Bloom gave him a quick squeeze and trotted over to Applejack’s side.

The mayor looked tired. Dead tired. She gave Spike a grimace that was just this side of friendly. Spike returned his in kind. She probably heard about the kidnapping before he did. Well… not counting the apparently prophetic dream Flurry had. That was unexpected. What the hay was he supposed to do about that? Did Cadence know? Shining? Did Flurry even realize what that sort of thing meant?

“World just got complicated again.” Spike sat on a bench near the rear of the station platform. He didn’t exactly slide into the background so much as merely stood out a little less among the ponies. The train’s breaks squealed as it clattered in. Steam hovered overhead, like a cloud made by a sleep-deprived Rainbow Dash; too low and too big.

He snorted. Rainbow always brought her own little bit of pizazz to the forecast, one way or the other.

The doors opened, and the passengers disembarked. The grand majority were ponies of every size, color, shape, and tribe. A few donkeys trotted to and fro, but the sea of multicolored coats overwhelmed their presence completely.

Save for two unique individuals.

Princess Stella shot out of the doors, leaving her luggage far behind. “Ohmygosh! Ponyville, Ponyville, Ponyville!”

Corona tugged her rolling suitcase with one talon while the other tried to grab her younger sister. “Stella! Carry your own bags!”

A pegasus stallion in full royal guard armor followed behind them. His coat was enchanted white by the armor—part of the uniform, Spike recalled. Only the higher ranking individuals kept their coat and mane colors when armored, to better pick them out of a crowd. His chestplate had the crest of the Cloudsdale airforce: A wing unfurled for flight.

Spike studied the stallion’s face. The chiseled chin was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. It wasn’t one of the guards from around Canterlot Castle, and definitely not somepony stationed in the Crystal Empire.

The pony spoke, however, and it all became clear. “Hold on, dudes. Um. Princesses. Let’s keep together until we get to the castle.”

A grin split Spike’s face. The weight on his heart lifted ever so slightly. He rose from his seat and waddled forward on his hind legs. “Rumble?”

Rumble’s head jerked towards Spike. His mouth dipped open into a quickly growing smile. “Spike! How are you, dude? Feels like it’s been ages!”

The feathers on Stella’s head flared out. Her eyes grew as wide as they could possibly go. She squealed deep in the back of her throat, clutching her talons together.

Spike gave her a sidelong glance. “You okay, Princess St—?”

“Ohmygosh it’s Spike!” she shouted, loud enough for the entire platform to hear. “Hero of the Crystal Empire! I’ve waited my whole life to meet you!”

Corona hid her blush by pushing her sister down with a palm. “Yeah, Stella. All ten years of it.”

“It’s true!” Stella hopped on her hind legs, spreading her wings with tiny flaps. “Can I hug you?”

Spike glanced at Rumble, who shrugged. “I don’t know if that’s proper…”

“I’m gonna hug you anyway!” Stella shot forward and squeezed Spike around the middle. Her tiny forelegs only went halfway around his chest.

Applejack tipped her hat to the griffon princesses, flashing them a smile that almost looked sincere. “Howdy do, Princess Corona, Princess Stella. It’s my honor to welcome you to the fine city of Ponyville.”

Corona curtseyed, leaving Stella to cling to Spike’s chest. “It is an honor to be welcomed to such a wonderful place, Your Lordship. I am glad we can finally meet under better circumstances.”

“For the most part,” Applejack muttered. Still with the synthetic smile plastered to her face, she spoke in a louder voice. “Does me a world of good to see critters who love Ponyville so much. I’m sure you’re gonna have a heck of a vacation.”

Applejack stepped to the side to let the looming form of Apple Bloom step forward. “I’m proud to introduce this here little sister of mine. Apple Bloom, this is Princess Corona and Stella of Felaccia.”

“Ohmygosh!” Stella detached herself from Spike and hovered in midair. “The leader of the Cutie Mark Crusaders!”

Apple Bloom blinked. “You heard of me?”

“Sheesha—” Corona coughed. “Sorry. Father read Princess Twilight’s Friendship Reports to us as bedtime stories.”

“I still read them,” Stella said, puffing her chest out. “They are fun stories that also teach a good moral to help me be a better person.”

Apple Bloom gave Spike a glance, one framed by a tiny smile. “Go figure.”

Spike shook his head, scratching the scarred scales on his chest. He turned to Rumble, baring his teeth with a lopsided grin. “You’re moving up in the world. Guarding princesses now?”

“Just on the train ride over.” Rumble folded his wings across his back. The armor’s magical shield shimmered with orange light. “Commander Skyhook’s taking over with Twilight’s personal guards. I’m here for something else.”

Spike saw Rumble’s eyes change. They grew hard, cold, determined. Spike flicked a loose scale onto the ground. “So, you know?”

Rumble nodded, his smile gone. “I’m here for Scootaloo.”

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes, patting Stella on the head. “Don’t tell me you’re finally ready to propose?”

Applejack bustled her way into Apple Bloom’s side, taking Corona’s suitcase from her. “Why don’t you help me bring the princesses to Twilight’s castle, Apple Bloom? The guards are waiting right outside the depot, so no worries about you keeping put, Rumble.” Her teeth ground together. “I know you got a lot to talk about.”

Apple Bloom sighed. “Am I really the last one to know about everything?”

Corona shrugged. “Join the club, ma’am.”

“Just ‘Apple Bloom’ is fine.” Apple Bloom hoisted both their carrying cases onto her back with nary an ounce of effort. “You owe me an explanation, Spike. See y’all later.”

The four of them, two ponies and two griffons, departed, leaving Spike and Rumble on a mostly empty platform. The few stragglers kept to themselves, checking luggage or greeting loved ones.

“Figures it’d take something like this to finally bring me home.” Rumble sighed, glancing around the train station with something between nostalgia and apprehension. “Gonna take a day or two to see my brother and his wife. Meet my new nieces. After that…”

He set his lantern jaw, curling the corners of his mouth down. “I’m gonna find her, Spike. I’m gonna bring her home, too.”

“I’ll be right there with you, buddy.” Spike put his hand on Rumble’s armored shoulder and gripped it—gently enough to not bend the metal. “This is one adventure I’m not sitting out.”

Spike lowered his eyebrows. “Gotta say, though. When Celestia said she was sending help, I expected somebody a little higher up the command chain.”

“What?” Rumble shook off the cobwebs and let a little light return to his eyes. “I’m not good enough for you anymore?”

“You weren’t the first to come to mind, no.” Spike crossed his forearms over his chest. “But if you’re good enough to protect foreign princesses all on your own—”

“Dude, really?” Rumble put a hoof to his chest. “You really think I was alone? Come on.”

He pointed to the bench Spike had moved from. A pony read a newspaper, obscuring their face. They folded the paper and laid it on their lap, bringing an orange coat and green mane into view. She wore a red checkered jacket, open at the front.

Rumble spread a wing in the classical pegasus salutation. “Allow me to present the kicker of butts, the queen of mean, Captain—”

“Care?” Spike lowered himself to all fours and skittered over. He couldn’t help the bright smile on his face. He didn’t dare hold it back.

Care Carrot slid off the bench and reached up to wrap her forelegs around his neck. She laughed as he gently returned the embrace. “Been a while, Spike. Great to see you.”

Rumble frowned, lowering his wing with a grunt. “Or we could just introduce each other. No big. Not like that was gonna be the highlight of my day or anything. I’ll just sit here while you two hug and stuff. No prob—”

“Rumble,” Care said, looking over Spike’s shoulder, “shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Spike took a step away. The filmy ears at the sides of his head flared out as his tail swished behind him. “Gosh, guys. It’s just… It’s so great to see you again. I just wish it was for a different reason.”

“You and me both.” Care slid the paper into her saddlebags. She gave Rumble a quick once-over, pressing her lips together. “You should probably lose the armor if we’re headed for the hospital. Don’t wanna draw extra attention.”

Rumble flapped a wing as he walked past Spike on his way to the rest room. “She’s the boss.”

“And while he’s making himself presentable—” Care sat on the bench and patted the seat beside her. “—you can tell me what’s been going on with you.”

“Making a nuisance of myself.” The bench’s boards creaked as Spike lay his back against it. “Helping Twilight with her studies. Keeping the library up-to-date. Journeying to alternate worlds for memorial services.”

She gave him a double-take.

“That one’s a long story.” He brought his arms up and over, resting his head in his palms. “Overall, it’s been pretty great. I’ve gotten a lot more comfortable with myself since—since…”

Care touched a hoof to his knee. “Since you saved my life.”

Spike tilted his head. He frowned at the mare, furrowing his brow something fierce. “Well—”

“I just call it like it is.” She gave him a pat and a smile. “Since you saved my life.”

“Call it what you like.” Spike turned his eyes to the sky, blowing a smoke ring from his mouth. “So what’s your side of the story? Adventure, excitement, danger?”

“Pretty much.” Care squinted one eye. Her horn lit up with pink magic that intensified to pure white. A tiny ball of fire sprang forth, shooting right through Spike’s smoke ring before vanishing into haze. “I helped out with the defense of the Saddle Arabian border. Spent some time with my folks. Went looking for the dead body of a deposed tyrant in the badlands.”

Spike snorted. “I suppose that’s your long story?”

“Not really.” Care fished the newspaper out of her bag and passed it to Spike. The front page image depicted a group of changelings standing before Canterlot Castle gates. “Looks like Queen Chrysalis’ daughter got uppity a few years ago. Killed her mom and took the throne. I was verifying that particular story.”

“I’ve heard.” Spike took the page gingerly, simply trying not to tear the page apart. The changeling queen stood front and center, staring up at the wall, her eyes strange even through the grainy photo. “Shiny and Cadence are going nuts. They even sent their kids here until the whole thing gets sorted out.”

Care brushed her mane behind her ears. A scrunchy found its way around it and made a ponytail. “Stella was excited about the new playmates.”

“Ha. Twilight’s gonna have a full house.” Spike found himself rubbing the scar on his chest. He forced himself to stop, laying the hand on his lap. “I’m almost glad I’m going on an adventure, with that kinda powder keg ready to blow.”

“Well, if we gotta be part of an international ponyhunt…” Care gripped his hands between her hooves. “I’m glad I’m on it with you.”

Spike smiled as her pink eyes met his green. “The feeling’s likewise.”

Rumble—his coat back to its natural gray—leaned on his shoulder. The sudden weight nearly knocked Spike off the bench.

“Get a room, you two,” Rumble said with a grin that begged to be punched in the face. “You’re being indecent.”

“Hay, knock it off!” Spike laughed as he stood, brushing Rumble from his shoulder. “I’m taken, anyhow. Wouldn’t look right in the tabloids if I was hugging around.”

One of Care’s ears tilted downward as the opposing eyebrow raised. She scowled at Rumble. “You’re gonna make me regret bringing you along, aren’t you?”

“It’s my very purpose in life, Captain.” Rumble bowed at the neck. His saddlebags clanked with collapsed armor pieces.

Care stood up and straightened her jacket. She gave Spike an expectant smile. “So, Spike, I think it’s time you lead us to your witness.”

Spike cracked his knuckles. “Follow me.”

***

Button Mash tapped away at his DoubleJoy Boy. The system was getting a little old, what with the TripleJoy Boy having released the previous year, but the system had a lot of good games. The pony onscreen swung away with its sword, chopping bits and pieces off of the boss’ life bar.

His mother had brought it to him earlier that day. She had stepped out to get to work, but would be back that evening. She was probably gonna sleep in the hospital, just to make sure he was okay. She hadn’t taken the news well. How dare those meanies hurt her baby? How dare they ruin his special night like that?

His dad had been pretty shaken up, too. Didn’t say much. Just trembling lips beneath that silly fake moustache of his. Patted him on the shoulder, muttered “get well soon,” and shuffled off to his job. Mom sure didn’t marry him for his conversation skills.

It was the first time he’d seen them cry so hard since his older brother moved away.

The hydra onscreen squealed as one of the heads dissolved into pixels. Just before the fireball from the left head vaporized his character. He got the old familiar game over screen, asking him whether he wanted to retry or quit.

“Retry what?” He let the DoubleJoy Boy flop to his chest, beside the bandages. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor was quiet, but present. The drip of the ambrosia into his bloodstream was more noticeable. It was like having heartburn pumped directly into his guts. Miracle medicine it may be, but that didn’t make it pleasant.

A soft knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He gingerly touched the bandage over his right cheek. “Come in.”

Spike eased himself inside. “Hay, Button. Got a couple visitors for you, if you’re ready for them.”

“Why not?” Button closed the clamshell design of his handheld system. He set it on the bedside table next to the foam cup of water. “Let’s go ahead and relive last night again.”

The next person to step through the door was almost unrecognizable at first. As Button’s brain booted up further, things started coming together. The strong legs, the chiseled chin, the ever-present smirk… “Rumble? Is that really you?”

“’Sup, dude?” Rumble took a chair at the foot of the bed, looping a foreleg over the back. “Heard you were in a bad spot.”

“That’s an understatement.” Button Mash rested his head against the pillow. There was really nowhere else for it to go. “So you’re the major help Spike was talking about?”

“Kinda not really no.” Rumble cleared his throat and extended a wing towards the door. “Introducing the kicker of butts, the—”

“Shut up, Rumble.” A mare nodded to Spike as she stepped into the room. Spike closed the door behind her and pulled out a pad of paper. A feather pen formed from a breath of flame. He held the utensils in his hands, ready to take notes.

She pushed a seat beside the bed and lowered her eyebrows. “Button Mash, I am Captain Care Carrot of the Equestrian Royal Guard. I’m here to speak with you about the assault and kidnapping you were witness to.”

Spike’s pen scritch, scritch, scritched across the page, recording her words.

Button Mash rubbed his sore chest. He tried to picture it in his mind; the three stallions. The screaming. The painful blows. The deep cuts. “Th—I brought Sweetie Belle home after supper. I thought she was alright. I saw three guys walking through the street, and I thought they were a little shady-looking, so I stuck around. One of them…” He winced as the painful crash rolled through his memory. “One of them knocked down Sweetie’s door.”

He paused to take a sip. Care took the opportunity to interject. “Can you describe them?”

“There was a big one. Blue coat, orange mane. E—earth pony, I think. His cutie mark was an oven or something. He broke down the door. There was a smaller guy. Pegasus. Weird moppy-looking blue mane. I thought it was weird that he was wearing sunglasses at night.”

Button chewed on his lower lip. “They called their boss ‘Caballeron.’”

Rumble sat up and tilted his head. “Wha—?”

Spike shushed him.

“H-he was older than them. Maybe in his fifties? Scruffy beard. Tan shirt. White hat. Black and gray mane. Cutie mark of a gold skull.” Button’s eyes flicked to Rumble. “I’m not making that part up, by the way.”

Rumble leaned forward, resting his forelegs on the chair’s arm rests. “You know what that sounds like, right?”

“Yes. Yes! Yes, I know!” Button threw a hoof up, looking to the ceiling. “I know it sounds crazy! But—”

“Calm down.” Care’s voice was sharp. “Keep going.”

Button Mash wiped his mouth with the side of his hoof. He figured he should show basic manners, so he turned his face to her. “They knocked Scootaloo out and dragged her off. The big guy just picked Sweetie up and carried her. The leader stabbed me and left me bleeding. And that’s all I remember.”

Care bobbed her head. Her ponytail fell over her shoulder. “Anything you want to add? Anything at all?”

“No.” Button Mash closed his eyes and stretched his back muscles a bit. “No, that’s all I got.”

“It’s a start.” Care stood up and motioned to Rumble. “Come on. We’ve got enough to get started.”

Rumble grimaced. “I don’t get to visit?”

“You can visit tomorrow.” Care Carrot tugged Spike’s tail towards the door. “I wanna get some work in tonight. The sooner we get to it, the better chance we have of finding them.”

Spike blew a breath on the page. It burst into enchanted green flame before vanishing in a puff of smoke. “Care’s got a point. They’re relying on us.”

Rumble glanced at Button, then nodded. “Yeah. Better get moving. See you tomorrow, Button. You still gonna be here?”

Button Mash touched the IV snaking from his foreleg. “Soon as the dose of ambrosia is administered, they’re sending me home. They say I’ll heal better in my own bed.”

Spike looked over his shoulder. “You going home, home, or to your parents’ house?”

“My house.” Button Mash tried to smile and failed. “Take care, guys.”

Captain Carrot winked. “It’s not like I was going anywhere else.”

Rumble groaned. “She’s been spending too much time with me. We need to move.”

Button Mash felt his heart sink as they left through the door. Just before Spike’s tail disappeared, he said “Give Caballeron my best, Spike.”

Spike halted with his hand on the handle. He gritted his teeth, swallowing hard. “Will do, Button.”

***

Flurry Heart stared at the griffon princesses, and the griffon princesses stared back. There was a deep, intense silence in the throne room of Twilight’s castle. Flurry’s two siblings stood to either side, also rooted to the spot.

“Well.” Applejack cleared her throat. She gave Twilight Sparkle a reassuring smile and backed away from the scene. “Well you kids have fun now, y’hear? Enjoy Ponyville and the like! Have a good one! See you later! Bye-b—”

“Applejack,” Twilight said, “a word?”

“Sure, Twi.” Applejack joined Twilight as they walked towards Twilight’s laboratory—the one that was strictly off-limits without adult supervision. That left Flurry, her siblings, and the griffons alone in the room with Twilight Velvet.

Stella glanced from face to face, her grin growing. She leaned close to her sister and spoke in a voice slightly less than shouting. “This is so awesome.”

Silver stepped forward first, apparently trying to exhibit the same kind of bravery as his father. “My name’s Silver Lance. What’s yours?”

“My name’s Stella Ursagryph!” The griffon chick jumped forward and thrust out a talon. “Princess of Felaccia! My father’s name is Andean Ursagryph. I have the same name even though I’m just a regular griffon and not an ursagryph, which is like a griffon except that instead of lion butts, my father has a really big bear butt!”

Corona sighed. “You shouldn’t talk about father like—”

She grabbed Corona’s wing and stretched it out, much to her sister’s dismay. “And this is my big sister Corona, who has red feathers in her wings because she’s part phoenix!”

Corona tugged her wing safely away. “I am not part phoenix. Phoenixes are birds.”

“And we know all about you!” Stella’s eyes grew wide as she turned her head to the side so that one eye could look directly into Silver’s. “We know all your names, and your life-stories, because we study you relentlessly!”

“Incredible,” Flurry heard Grandma Velvet say. “An icebreaker that actually makes things more awkward.”

Twilight Amore took a ginger step forward. She squinted at the griffons like they were a scientific curiosity. “You know everything about us, huh?”

“Yep!” Stella said with a chirp.

“Prove it.” Amore smirked. “What’s my favorite color?”

Stella blinked. She hemmed and hawed as she clicked her beak. “Purple?”

“Drat!” Amore clomped her hooves together. “How did she know?”

“She guessed,” Corona said. Flurry Heart looked hard at the elder sister. Her eyes darted around, like she was looking for something. Or someone.

Someone dangerous.

“It’s very nice to meet you.” Silver Lance glanced at Grandma Velvet, his eyebrows raised. “May we show the princesses to the playroom?”

“I don’t see why not.” Grandma Velvet smiled as she gripped the suitcases in a bubble of magic. “Now, why don’t—”

“Excuse me!” Twilight Sparkle ran back in, with Lord Mayor Applejack trailing behind. Twilight puffed her chest out and raised a regal hoof. “Sorry for the haphazard greeting, Your Highnesses, but I assure you it is truly my greatest honor to welcome you at last to Ponyville. I am holding a formal dinner tonight especially for you kids—”

“Great,” Silver said, his ears falling, “that means I have to wear a suit.”

Stella snickered.

“Ahem!” Twilight gave Silver a princess-level stink-eye. “A formal dinner tonight for you kids to get to know the family.”

Stella leaped up, hovering with fluttering wings. “Will Spike be there? Ooh, he’s so cool!”

Flurry Heart suppressed a laugh. She’d never seen anybody get that excited over Spike. Maybe the princesses were cooler than they let on at first.

“Of course.” Twilight smiled. “I look forward to getting to know you both over the next few weeks. And, I hope you enjoy learning more about Equestria.”

“Careful,” Twilight Amore said. “Aunt Twilight said the magic word: Learning. Every time she says it, textbooks appear out of thin air.”

Twilight Sparkle’s smile cracked at the edges. “Why don’t you kids go to the playroom? I’m sure there’s plenty of fun, educational activities there.” She waved as an evil little glint appeared in her eye. “Have fun strengthening the ties between our nations!”

Corona shut her beak with a decisive snap. “No pressure, huh?”

Flurry Heart ventured a friendly sort of smile as Corona drew near. “At least nobody starts wars over dinnertime.”

Corona froze, the hair on her back standing on end. Tension entered every muscle Flurry could see.

Flurry licked her lips. “Or do they? I don’t know much about that kinda thing.”

“There’ve, um…” Corona smoothed down her fur with deliberate brushes of her talons. “There’ve been ups and downs, where that’s concerned.”

Flurry and Corona shuffled their feet, both looking at the ground. Corona raised her talon and pointed down the hall. “So… that way?”

“Yeah.” Silver Lance trotted forth, Stella close by his side. “The playroom is down the hall, to the left, up the elevator three floors, two lefts and a right, then right through the door.”

Corona lowered her ears. “I’ll get more used to navigating this place as we go, right?”

“Nope!” Twilight Amore flapped overhead. “I’ve been coming here since I was little, and I still get lost!”

Corona’s wings drooped. “Thank you, Princess Amore, that’s very reassuring.”

Flurry bumped her wing’s joint against Corona’s. “Just do what I do: Follow Lance. He’s, like, got a built-in map or something. He always seems to know where he is.”

Flurry’s ear twitched as she caught a snippet of Aunt Twilight’s voice. “Keep me posted on the investigation, Applejack.”

“Will do, Twi. They’ll find those girls b’fore you know it. They gotta.”

She choked back a sob. She tried to run her soft wings across her face before Corona could see, but the princess was already looking right at her.

“Are you…” Corona’s beak moved silently as she tried to find the right words. “Do you need help?”

“I dunno.” Flurry rubbed the base of her horn, fighting off a faint buzz. She’d felt it since that evening. It’d probably wear off by tomorrow. It usually did. “You ever… Have you ever been in a situation where you wanna help, but you don’t really know how you can?”

Corona wrinkled her face, sniffing through her beak. “Story of my life.”

She leaned close and lowered her voice, speaking right into Flurry’s ear. “You heard about Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo?”

Flurry nodded. “I had a dream about it last night. Evil ponies came and took them away.”

“Yeah?” Corona frowned, glancing at Grandma Velvet. When she saw the mare was more focused on the younger children, she continued. “I think the changelings might have had something to do with it.”

Flurry’s heart went cold. A chill ran down her spine, straight to her dock. “Wh—why do you say that?”

“Because the changelings came to Canterlot right before the kidnapping.” Corona shook her head. “It’s too close to be a coincidence.”

Flurry fluffed her feather. “But you came just after the changelings, too. And that’s a coincidence.”

“Is it?” Corona rubbed her foreleg as she walked. “After everything that’s happened, I’m not so sure anymore.”

They continued quietly, listening to Stella gush about everything around her, and Silver Lance doing his best to explain it.

After a long moment, Flurry whispered, “The changelings have always been scary. They almost stopped my mom and dad from getting married. They did… a lot of other horrible things.”

She turned to Corona with as big a smile as she could manage. “But not all of them are bad.”

Corona shrugged. “How do you know these aren’t the bad ones?”

“I don’t.” Flurry stopped as they reached the playroom door. Silver reached for the handle with his magic, while Stella babbled on and on.

Corona took her suitcase from Grandma Velvet. She tapped her talons against it as she clicked her beak. “I guess that’s the scary part.”

Flurry didn’t know what to say to that. She followed the others into the playroom, just wanting to curl up with a book and pretend nothing was wrong.

***

“Yeah, here’s the guy.”

Spike walked into the library’s reading room carrying a tray with three mugs of cocoa. Care sat on the couch, a dozen-odd sheets of paper scattered around her. She glanced up from her work long enough to give Spike a thank you, then lifted the sheet in a pink telekinetic bubble. “The description Button gave us of the big bruiser matches this creep right here. Blue coat, orange mane, stove cutie mark, the works.”

Rumble lay sprawled on the rug in front of the fireplace, his legs hanging in the air. He rolled to the side to look her way without turning his head. “What’s his deal?”

Spike leaned close to Care and read over her shoulder. “Kiln Stovepipe. Crimes include assault, murder, grave robbery, and tax evasion.”

“Know associates include Widowmaker Puree and Doctor Poni Caballeron.” Care took a sip and licked foam from her upper lip. “Who, as it turns out, is an actual person.”

“That’s bizarre.” Rumble waved a hoof as he tried to reach for a mug without actually getting up. “So A.K. Yearling used an actual dude as the inspiration for her villain?”

“That’s one way of putting it.” Care Carrot set the profile down alongside one labeled “Caballeron.” “This third guy is the wild card. That pegasus. I don’t think there’s anything in here about him. At least, nothing that connects him to our kidnappers.”

“What else does it say about Kiln?” Spike took a seat and set the tray down just out of Rumble’s reach. He added a log to the fire and stoked it with his claw. “Anything about how he and Caballeron met?”

“Just that they’ve been working together for years.” Care shuffled through the notes, flipping through photos. “There’s even a picture of him and Caballeron—get this—attending a Daring Do convention… Eleven years ago? Weird.”

Rumble sniggered. “I’ll bet they had the best costumes in the show.”

Spike cocked a brow. “Depends on who you ask.”

“And Caballeron himself—” Care shuffled through the folder until the found the proper profile. A face quite familiar to any fan of the Daring Do books flashed into view. “—has a pretty similar track record. Kidnapping, unlawful possession of magical artifacts, the ever-popular murder…”

“Goodness me.” Rumble rolled twice across the floor to put himself in reach of the mug. He poured it into his mouth with a grin the size of a small house. “My, my but these criminal types and their bloodlust. Honestly, it’s quaint.”

“Spooky part here.” Care unrolled a page that was mostly text. Her hoof trailed the lines until she reached a set of dates. “He’s roundabouts fifty, but these records only go back about twenty-five, twenty-six years.”

Spike moved a page aside to sit beside her on the couch. He took the other side of the page to steady it. “So… we’re just missing half of his life? No clue what happened before?”

“Not a thing.” Care let him have the profile so that she could focus on the cocoa. “He’s almost more of a mystery than Hurricane was, at this point. We’ve never had any luck tracking him down. He just vanishes after Daring Do foils him, only to reappear later.”

Rumble snorted into his drink. He wiped his mouth with a hoof, sputtering with chuckles. “Did you just say what I think you said? Did you just say Dar—?”

“Rumble—”

“I know, I know, ‘shut up.’” Rumble looked into the bottom of his empty mug. He flicked his eyes towards Care. “You did say Daring Do, didn’t you? I’m not crazy?”

“Alright, history lesson time.” Care set the cup on the tray with a ceramic ting. “The Author A.K. Yearling is actually a pursuer of antiquities—”

“Treasure hunter,” Spike said.

“Whatever.” Care shot him a grin before continuing. “—who has occasionally come across Caballeron. So yes, he is based on a real person.”

“But you called her Daring Do.” Rumble stretched the full length of his body out and groaned. “You totally did, and I’ll never let you forget it.”

Spike leaned his elbow on his knee and rested his chin in his palm. “Daring is her given name, Dude. Yearling’s just a penname she made up so that people didn’t think she was writing a self-insert fantasy. The name stuck.”

“Also,” Care said, “for national security reasons, that information doesn’t leave this room.”

“Lips sealed, and that’s the honest truth.” Rumble laughed to himself as he closed his eyes. “It’s just too priceless.”

The door rattled on its hinges. Spike stood up and stretched. “I’ll see who it is. I’ll tell them we’re closed for renovations or something.”

Care set about collecting loose pieces of paper. “Remember the byword: National security.”

“That is, in fact, two words,” Rumble said.

“Shut up, Rumble.”

Spike trundled through the library on his hind legs. He opened the door with a smile on his face, but it melted like an ice cube in an oven. “Apple Bloom?”

She stood before him, her face covered in tears, her mane disheveled, and her ears laid flat against her head. Her teeth ground tight behind her lips. “I’m here to help.”

“But… I mean.” Spike reached up to cup her cheek in his palm. “I wanted to tell you, but—”

“I know. Time and place.” Apple Bloom closed her eyes and leaned against his touch. She brought her hoof up to hold his hand in place. “Applejack filled me in. I woulda come straight here, but…”

She wiped her eyes. “Well. I’m here to help. What can I do?”

“We’ll find a place for you.” Spike gently tugged her inside and shut the door behind her. “We’re going over the suspects and notes. We’ve got more help on the way, too. We’re gonna have a whole army looking for Sweetie and Scoots.”

Apple Bloom laughed, but it came out as a painful, phlegmy cough. “Well, I guess I’m your ‘plus one.’”

He led her to the sitting room. Rumble sat up and waved. “Hay, AB. Long time, no see.”

Care leaned over the back of the couch with a dim glower. “And I suppose this satisfies my need for national security in some way?”

“Rumble, Care, I’d like to introduce you to the newest member of our team.” Spike laid a hand on her shoulder and smiled. “She’s gonna do some of the heavy lifting.”

Care’s eyes widened. She tilted her head back to look up, up, up until she reached Apple Bloom’s face. “Yes, please.”

“Good to have you onboard, AB.” Rumble threw a mock salute. “We’ve got a tall ship and a star to sail her by.”

Apple Bloom shared a halfhearted smile with them. “Where do we start?”

“We start,” Care Carrot said, “by finding out what connects Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo with Doctor Poni Caballeron.”

The Dive Through Danger

Daring Do opened the hatch and hoisted herself to the upper deck. The airship’s engines hummed softly as they cruised leeward. She let out a hefty yawn and tugged on the ship’s rigging. The makeshift sails strapped to either side of the envelope held fast.

Clouds hung below as the sun rose to the left. Oranges and reds spilled across the billowing landscape. Daring’s mustardy coat took on a glowing hue. It was unkempt and just a little sweaty, but it shimmered just fine, thank you very much. She reached up to her neck and touched the silver pocket watch hanging from its chain. It ticked in time with the ship’s engines, like a tiny heartbeat against hers.

A voice tickled her ears from behind. She craned her neck to see Martial at the ship’s wheel, leaning against it and singing to himself. His eyes locked on the horizon, only briefly glancing at the nearby compass.

“Gawrock melchila
Kroota kree Vakelra
Kretchwaugh Vreen
O Sheesha chakii”

Daring trotted towards him, easing to the left and right whenever the airship tilted. “That’s a pretty one.”

His head snapped to her as his beak snapped shut. “Guh. Good morning, Dr. Do. Sleep well?”

“Nope.” She leaned against the rail surrounding the deck. She popped her pocket watch open to look at the picture she kept inside. “I’ve found that the world’s a better place when I’m awake. It’s more exciting, you know?”

“I find it hard to doubt.” Martial took a pencil from behind his ear and made a mark on a pad of paper he’d pinned to the wheel. “We should be putting down in Canterlot before lunch, with this tailwind we’ve got.”

“Sweet.” The second hand passed over Time Turner’s face. She clicked the clamshell closed. “What was that song you were singing?”

Martial frowned. He crossed his arms and leaned against the top of the wheel. The airship rocked in response. “Not getting away from that one, am I?”

“I never hear you sing.” Daring turned her eyes up as she thought. “Well, not in Griffish. I’m a scientist, and this is a unique phenomenon to be examined.”

Martial raised an eyebrow. He rested his cheek against his knuckles. “You’ve got a real heartless way of being sentimental.”

“So sue me.” Daring’s wing ached. She spread it out until the joint popped with a painful twinge. “Spill it. What’s the song?”

“I don’t know the whole thing…” Martial clicked his beak as he drummed his talons. His feathers splayed to catch the wind. “It’s called ‘Sheesha Chakii.’ Papa Return, in Equestrian. My mother would sing it to me before bed. Sometimes my father would, too.”

He cleared his throat and waved a talon, drawing in the air. “Its translation’s a little choppy when bringing it over. Some of our words don’t have… exact parallels. Literally, it’s ‘Awesome, beautiful—Friend and Protector—The King with Lighting in his Wings—Oh Papa, return.’”

She could feel the warmth of the sun prickling over her skin. She shut her eyes and leaned into it, turning to let the wind cool her when she needed it. “Sounds like it’s not talking about your dad.”

“No, no.” Martial shrugged. “It’s about the One the ponies refer to as ‘The Creator.’ A bit of praise and worship. It’s also a little—a little sad, I suppose. Acknowledging that we’re not with Him. Asking for His return.”

Daring sighed. She rubbed the smooth surface of the watch, looking out over the vastness of the cloudscape. It was almost like looking at Cloudsdale before the battle with Commander Hurricane; beautiful and immense. “Feeling a little lonely?”

“Mm.” Martial lifted himself from the wheel and made a slight course correction. He marked their new location on his pad. “We all feel lonely on occasion.”

His ears fell. He glanced between her and the floor, sliding the edges of his beak across each other. “If I may be presumptuous?”

“What, you’re gonna worry about decorum now?” Daring snickered. “How many years have we been fighting the good fight, Marty?”

“Too many and not enough,” Martial said. He tucked his pencil out of the way and locked the ship’s wheel in place. “You’ve been nursing that watch for well over a year. I’ve never seen you so… so hurt by one of your ‘suitors’ before.”

“Yeah, well.” Daring favored Martial with a small smile, raising an eyebrow. “He was supposed to be the one that mattered.”

She pulled the looped chain from her neck and held the watch close. “I guess I’m trying to figure out if… If I’ll ever see him again. If he even wants to see me. If he didn’t just…” Daring swung a foreleg, whistling through pressed lips. “Vanish into stardust.”

Martial spread a wing to examine his feathers. He plucked a stray from among its brethren and tossed it into the wind. “I suppose it depends on how much you believe the old myth: When a creature dies, their hopes and dreams—fulfilled or not—become a blazing light in the night sky for all to see.”

Daring rubbed her mane. Her ears lay flat against her head. “I’ve spent enough time around Luna to know that not all dreams are made of light.”

“Indeed.” Martial checked the compass. Daring figured it was more out of habit than necessity. “Ruddy well indeed.”

“What about you?” Daring rolled a hoof as she looped the chain around her shoulders. “You believe all this starry night sky mumbo-jumbo?”

Martial frowned her way, showing empty talons. “Perhaps at one time. Now, I’m not sure. I’ve—” He rubbed his temple with a bent knuckle. “I’ve searched for a certain star, but never seen anything familiar up there. Since the dead refuse to speak, I’d say it remains an uncertainty.”

Daring opened the watch. It tick-tocked away against her hoof, framing the image of her and Time Turner. The ponies in the picture smiled, not a care in the world. “Still tantalizing to think about.”

“Quite.” Martial gripped the wheel. He didn’t unlock it, Daring noted, he just held on tight. “I suppose I’ll leave it up to you.”

Daring snorted, tilting her back over the rail to stretch it out. For a moment, she could see the clouds hover below her. “You leave everything up to me, Marty.”

“Do I?” Martial fished around in his over-the-shoulder bag and produced a vial filled with green liquid. “I seem to remember you asking me to remember to send your editor your draft.”

“Oh, shoot, that’s right!” Daring clipped the watch shut once more and scrambled towards the trapdoor. “I’ll go get it. We can send it while we’re still in the air.”

She threw open the door and hopped into the lower deck. It was cramped down below, with supplies gathered in boxes and barrels all over. Cabins sat to the aft of the ship, which required a bit of wriggling to get through the narrow lane.

Blankety Blank snoozed in his cot, muttering to himself in his sleep. Daring smiled at him as she tip-toed to her area. A chest waited for her, locked by a key, containing a few essential valuables.

Her typewriter was cushioned by sheets and pillows, kept from being jostled apart by storms and turbulence. Sheets upon sheets of new paper lined the bottom of the chest. Her draft was bound together by twine, right on top for easy retrieval.

Daring Do and the Raggedy Stallion

And the Book of Impossible Things

And the Lost Light

And the Stupid Evil Viscount with the Stupid Science Experiment Who Needed to Die! Die! Die! Die!

Daring Do pursed her lips and nodded as she read over the last crossed-out title. “That one sounds like a winner. Yep. I can totally see that one fly right off the shelves—and into the bargain bin.”

She balanced the draft on her back and trotted her way towards the upper deck. “I’ll get Vel’s input. She’ll know what to call it. She’s good with that. Real good.”

“You’re t-talking to yourself again,” Blankety muttered.

“It’s ‘cuz I’m a good listener.” Daring swatted at his hind leg as she passed. “And look alive, will yah? We’ve got a meeting with the princesses when we land.”

“B-be still my humming ventricles.” Blankty’s eyelids fluttered open. Daring caught the slightest glimmer of insectoid blue before his enchantment reasserted itself to its usual pink. “I’m up, I’m up. When’s b-breakfast?””

“Soon as you make it.” She hauled herself up the ladder, nudging the trapdoor open with her forehead. “So get on that; I’m starving.”

The pages landed with a thump at Martial’s feet. He flicked a lever at the top of the green bottle, and bright sparks flared. “Ready?”

“When you are,” Daring said.

Marital Paw lifted the bundle with one hand and held tight to the bottle with the other. His thumb reached over and pressed the switch. Sparks spilled forth, coating the paper in crackling magic. The paper transformed to smoke before their eyes and shot off into the bluing sky.

“Dragonfire.” Daring crossed her forelegs and grinned. “The cheaper alternative to the Pony Express.”

Martial unlocked the ship’s wheel and leaned it to the right. “Spike doesn’t mind burping up entire books at a time?”

“The kid’s got a good set of lungs on him.”

She strode forward until she was at the prow. She leaned against the front of the ship and squinted. She could just see the tallest spire of Canterlot Castle poking out of the untamed clouds. To the right, the scattered remains of the City of Cloudsdale bustled with colorful pegasi, building, working, playing.

In the middle, underneath a rare clear spot in the heavens, was a tiny city, crowned with a sparkling crystal castle.

“Welcome home, Time,” she said. “Welcome home.”

***

Button Mash trudged through the city streets in the early morning. His chest ached, but it was no longer an open wound. Scar tissue ran as a jagged line along his ribcage, surrounded by a bare patch of skin. He covered it with a jacket brought from his parents’ house. The other bruises and breaks had been taken care of by the ambrosia—a scant few days of healing was all it needed.

He glanced at Carousel Boutique as he passed. Its door was crushed in, and its windows were dark.

“Dude!” Snips charged out of his barber shop and swung a foreleg around Button’s neck. “Button, hey, great to see you.”

Button jolted and looked away from the boutique. He faked a smile by showing a few teeth. “Snips. What’s up?”

“Not much, not much, hey—” Snips pushed him forward, forcing Button’s lanky legs to hobble along. “—hey, it’s time for my lunch break. Why don’t we get a bite, huh? You ’n me.”

Button frowned and looked at the sun. “It’s not even nine in the mor—”

“Early lunch. Brunch. Whatever you wanna call it. Second breakfast.” Snips never took a breath as he carried on, his eyes locked straight ahead. “Hayburger sounds good. You want Hayburger? Yeah, Hayburger would be great. I’ll get a Hayburger, extra pickles.”

Button winced as Snips jolted the tender muscles around his ribcage. “I kinda just wanna go home and rest.”

“Rest! Hayburger is restful!” Snips clicked his hooves against the pavement as his expression took on an unhinged twitch. “Loudmouth patrons and small children aside, it’s the best darn relaxing fast food franchise Equestria has to offer!”

“Snips, what are you doing?”

“Me?” Snips forced a chuckle. He kneed Button in the foreleg. “I’m just spending time with my good buddy, Button Mash. We’re gonna eat together and have a good time and maybe meet some chicks.”

“At Hayburger?”

“You’d be surprised.” Snips shielded his eyes with a hoof as he peered down the street. “There she blows: The greatest burger joint in town!”

“Snips, please—”

“I recommend the potato fries. Hay fries are nice at first, but it all tastes like flour in the end.”

“Snips, I don’t want to—”

“You know who’s cute? Their new waitress, Alula. She’s got just the waviest darn tail in the—”

Button dug in his hooves and screeched to a stop. He pulled away from Snips’ grasp, stomped in front of him, and did his level best to keep his voice down. “What is your problem? I’m tired. I’m sore. I’m in no mood to go girl-watching. I appreciate the thought, but—”

Button shut his eyes tight and squeezed his head between his hooves. He breathed slowly.

Snips bit his lip. He sat down and scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry. I’m just—you just almost died, man.”

Button shook his head. He touched a hoof to Snips’ shoulder. “I’m fine, Snips. I’m not dead, thanks to you.”

A small laugh trickled up despite the pressure on his chest. He patted Snips and released him. “I get the feeling you’re gonna be saving a lot more lives in the Fire Brigade.”

“Button,” Snips said, “I resigned.”

Button Mash jerked his head around. His mouth fell open to blurt out a “What?”

“I resigned.” Snips cleared his throat before it could get too gravelly. “I talked with Big Mac about it yesterday. It’s official.”

“But—but why?” Button Mash blinked as he looked from one hoof to the other, physically sorting through his thoughts. “We were always gonna be a team. Make something of ourselves, be pillars of the community, that sort of thing! You’re a certified hero now, man!”

“No I’m not.” Snips’ swallowed hard as he pointed at Button’s chest. “I—I just saw you lying on the floor with all your insides outside. I—I pushed my own two hooves against your chest to keep the life in you. I just went in and did my job. I did everything I could, so now I’m done.”

“Oh, come on!” Button threw a hoof to the side, turning his face to the sky. “We always knew it could get gruesome. It’s the sort of thing first-responders have to deal with—”

“I didn’t expect to see my own best friend—” Snips’ voice broke. “—dead and pale on the floor!”

Snips wiped his eyes and turned away, walking back a few steps down the sidewalk. “You know what Big Mac said? He said he was proud of me. Not only for doing what it took to save your life, but having the courage to know when I’m done. To know when enough is enough and stop before I have a real breakdown.”

The pain in Button’s chest shifted to his throat. “I’m sorry for snapping.”

“It’s fine.” Snips rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. “I’m sorry for dumping my issues on you. It’s just… It’s too real, now.” He cracked a half-convincing smile. “I joined the Fire Brigade for the chicks, you know. Not for, I dunno, saving the world or minotaur mounds like that.”

“I’m shocked,” Button said. He heaved a sigh, scuffing his hoof along the roadway. “I guess you gotta do what you think is right, but…”

“You should resign, too.” Snips scrunched his muzzle as Button grimaced. “Don’t give me that look. You got your heiny handed to you. I think you’ve paid your dues to society.”

Button tightened his jaw. “I’m not quitting the Fire Brigade.”

“It’s not quitting, man!” Snips smacked one hoof against the other. “It’s not some game where you’ve got like ten lives before a game over. You got one life. And I don’t want you to go lose it!”

Button looked right at Snips, his brow furrowing. He sucked on his lips before he found a response. “I’m going home. Thank you for the offer of breakfast.”

Snips scowled. He stood to his hooves and walked back towards his shop, flicking his stubby tail. “Yeah. Great to see you up and about. Get well soon and all that jazz.”

It was a short walk from there to Button’s little house. He pushed open the door and dropped his bag to the side. He locked the door as an afterthought and stumbled into his bedroom. He fell face-first onto the mattress with a grunt of pain. New injuries and sudden impacts didn’t mix.

He turned his head to the side. His game systems waited for him, hooked up to a magiscreen. Tales of daring heroes and daunting challenged loomed. A thousand victories on a thousand battlefields.

He turned his head to the other side and looked at his array of puppets. Monsters and demons, heroes and kings. Ancient tales and fantastical legends. Touching romances that waited at the end of the journey.

He saw River, the first Bearer of the Element of Magic, standing proud before a hydra, unafraid. Backed by her friends. Cheered by her people. Blessed by powers above. A true Equestrian hero.

He reached across the small room and pulled his blinds down. They couldn’t quite keep out the sun, but they left his house dark enough to rest his eyes.

Heroes of old with their victories in the face of astonishing terrors.

And then there was him in the middle of it all.

He looked at his scar as he pulled the covers over his body. He was no hero. He couldn’t even stand against one pony. He couldn’t save Sweetie. He threw himself into it and still failed. It was the end of his story. A footnote for some other hero’s tale. He was done.

But then why did Snips’ words make him so furious?

“Quit the Fire Brigade.” He muttered to himself and rolled onto his side. He regretted it a moment later and rolled back. “I’m not giving up just because I got hurt. Just because Snips—”

He let his head thump against the pillow. He pulled a notepad from the bedside table and read it over. The scattered pieces of a song lay upon it, jumbled and nonsensical. “What do you want from me? Everything went perfect and I still managed to botch it up. What do you want from me?”

He stared at the paper. The paper might have had the good sense not to stare back.

He scribbled across the page, his eyes flicking to River on the top shelf.

What do you want from me?
What do you want from me?
Why can’t you show me the light?
Why can’t I find what you plainly see?

Such inspiring stories
Such amazing glories
Lost to the annals of time
Gone and forgotten and faltering

His pencil tip trail down as he slacked his grip. His ears burned as he brought a memory to the forefront, from just a few nights earlier.

“But you should do your best,” Sweetie Belle said. “That’s all anyone can ask.”

Button shoved the pencil in the corner of his mouth and bit on the eraser. Grape flavored, he noticed. He hated grape. He spat the pencil out and let the notepad fall to the floor.

His eyes rose to River once more, to the little wooden pony who played such a large part in his country’s history. “Have I given my best yet? Or is there actually more to it?”

He tossed the covers off and trotted to his kitchen. He grabbed a carrot from the fridge and munched it as he paced. There was a prickle in his skin, a fire that had nothing to do with the ambrosia still sizzling through his system. It wasn’t Snips’ words frustrating him. Not alone. “I haven’t done enough. I can’t quit when I haven’t done enough. I haven’t given everything I have. I need to—”

He bit deep into the carrot and let it crunch nosily. His best. Sweetie deserved his best. Whatever that was. Maybe he could figure it out on the way. He couldn’t just sit around when she was in the grip of some slimy kidnapper. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t good. It wasn’t—

He looked down at himself, from the scrawny legs to the ragged coat. “What the heck am I doing? I can’t go on an adventure. I’m recovering. I’m recuperating. I’m…”

He held the carrot in his mouth. He wouldn’t go alone. He’d be with Spike, and Rumble, and that Royal Guard lady, and whoever else got roped into the battle. Just like River, he’d have his friends by his side.

“I’m seriously trying to rationalize this.” The carrot trailed from one side of his mouth to the other. “My conscious mind is actively trying to get me killed.”

Still, he wasn’t without skills. He could contribute, somehow. Someway. Some when.

“I’m really bad at rationalizing.”

He sat down at his table for two, one chair included. He leaned his foreleg across it and stared into his room. He could just see his array of puppets waiting, watching, silently judging him. Or maybe he was just projecting.

He pressed his hoof against the edge of his nose. “I just wanna do my best. That’s all.”

He clicked his tongue. “So do it.”

He stood up and grabbed his jacket. He didn’t need it in the summer air, but he figured the less people that stared at his scar, the better. He trotted out the door and down the street, hustling to his destination before he could think better of it.

***

Spike awoke to a fire burning deep within his gut. His cheeks bulged as they filled with the magic blaze. His eyes sprang open, searching the area in front of him for a safe spot to send his incinerating burp. He was facing the unlit fireplace, in the library’s sitting room. Perfect positioning.

He opened his mouth, and the belch rocked the very roots of the tree. It was followed by the dull thud of hundreds of pages of paper thumping to his feet. He slumped in the couch, letting out a small sigh of relief.

“Gotta admit, that there’s an effective wake-up call.”

Spike’s cheeks blushed bright purple. A warm fuzzy feeling draped itself across his shoulder. Two amber eyes stared into his, twinkling like polished apples in a sunrise.

“Apple Bloom.” Spike squeezed his hand, running his claws along the dead scales on his chest. “You been there all night?”

“I think so.” The couch springs squeaked as she shifted her weight. “I think I fell asleep around the time we realized we knew absolutely nothin’ about any of the kidnappers.”

“You lovebirds were freaking adorable.” Rumble leaned over the back of the couch, hovering his head between theirs. “Come on, Captain Carrot just got word from the princesses. We’re meeting A.K. Yearling at some snooty soiree in Canterlot tonight. Bring your fancy clothes.”

Apple Bloom’s smile tilted to one side. “Truly, this adventure shall be fraught with peril.”

“You’ll do fine.” Spike patted her back as he stood. He picked up the enormous pile of pages he’d help deliver. A note sat atop. “Spike, please give this to that old granny you call ‘Mom.’ Love, Aunt Yearling.— P.S. Keep this stack away from Rainbow Dash.— P.P.S. Keep it even farther away from Quibble Pants.”

Rumble angled his wings as he looked the manuscript over. “This gonna take a while?”

“Nah. I’ll drop it off on the way to the train station.” Spike tucked the unfinished book under his arm and waddled his way into the library proper. “I’ll go pick out a suit. I have a reputation to uphold.”

Apple Bloom hung her forelegs over the back of the couch. “Keepin’ up with the Pantses, huh?”

“If it gets the show on the road…” Spike shrugged, then headed for the staircase.

The door rattled just as his foot met the bottom step. He glanced over his shoulder to the sign hanging on the door, marked “Closed.” “Hay Rumble, where’s Care?”

“Taking a walk around town, getting her thoughts together.” Rumble poked his head out from the history section. “’Zat her?”

Spike set the manuscript aside and scuttled across the floor on all fours. He clicked the door open to find not Care, but another familiar face: Button Mash. “Button! Great to see you out of the ho—”

“I’m coming with you,” Button Mash said. “I’m gonna help rescue Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo.”

“—spital.” Spike brought his eyebrows together and shook his head. “What are you talking about? You just got discharged, Button.”

Button pushed his way past Spike and into the library. He took a seat beside the front desk and craned his neck. “I’m coming with you. I’ve been tangled up in this since literally day one, so I’m gonna see it through to the end.”

“What planet are you on right now?” Rumble fluttered over the counter and landed behind it. His muscular legs folded up beneath him as he leaned over Button. “We’re going up against some real actual murderers, dude. You wouldn’t last five minutes. Heck, you already didn’t.”

Spike snorted steam. “Rumble!”

“Don’t ‘Rumble’ me!” Rumble reached down and noogied Button in the scalp. “I’m being realistic. I don’t wanna see my buddy Button get hurt again.”

“I already had this conversation,” Button said with a pitiable stomp of his hoof. “Twice. I’ve made up my mind. I’m coming if I have to hitchhike.”

“Well, yeah, but—” Spike held his hands to the sides. “Come on, what do you hope to accomplish? Scoots and Sweetie are in good hands, here. You really wanna put your life on the line that way?”

“Heck yes.” Button nodded. “And please agree with me before I change my mind.”

“Aha!” Rumble spread his wings with a triumphant flap. “You’re doubting! You’re indecisive! Allow me to sway you with reason and logic.”

Button leaned back to look at Rumble. “Is that what you’ve named your biceps?”

Rumble fell silent, staring into the distance. He muttered to himself as he lowered his head.

“Seriously, though.” Button Mash hopped to his feet with only a tiny wince. He circled around the library entryway, a hoof held to his chest. “I’ve spent five years in the Fire Brigade. I’ve been a first-responder to countless emergencies. I’m a fighter of fires, a champion of CPR, a saver of cats from trees.”

His ears drooped. He licked his lips as his voice grew quiet. “And she means a lot to me.”

“Oh my gosh, that is so adorable an’ romantic!”

Spike, Rumble, and Button turned as one. Apple Bloom leaned against a precarious bookshelf, scrunching her cheeks between her hooves. When she caught sight of the blank looks the boys were giving her, she sent them a light sneer. “So I got a heart for that sorta thing. Come on, guys, you’re lettin’ me join. Why not Button?”

Spike held up a finger. “Because you are an extremely physically capable earth pony who is related to Big Macintosh, the pony who once moved a house off its foundations.” He pointed that finger at Button Mash. “And he plays video games and presents puppet shows.”

“Fire Brigade.” Button Mash kicked out a hind leg in a vague imitation of a carrote strike. “I’m not gonna slow you down. I’m not gonna need babysitting. I just wanna be there to help however I can. First aid, at the least.”

He jutted his stubbly chin. “And nothing you say will convince me otherwise.”

“Cool.” Rumble propped his head up on his hoof. “But you’re not the one who needs convincing.”

Button Mash leaped onto the front desk, starling Rumble into backing off. Button held his head high, placed his hoof on his chest, and belted out.

“It’s clear that I’ve never seen action
I’ve not a fraction of your skill
Yet here I am to join your faction
We’ll rescue them or we’ll be killed”

Rumble rolled his eyes. “Yeah, killed. It’s what we’re trying to avoid—”

Button scuffed his hoof across the countertop and drew close to Rumble’s face, gritting his teeth.

“Destiny’s call’s ringing loud in our ears
Destiny says take a chance, face your fears
You know
The way to go
We sally forth
We tally ho
We step outside to the unknown

“We’re on a dive!
Dive!
Dive!
Through danger!

“Although it’s true I risk a maiming
And though I find my resolve straining
I’m not complaining

“It’s a dive!
Dive!
Dive!
Through danger!

“My fear’s a beast that needs some taming
A dive through danger brings us there”

Button stood tall, his head above the others’, as he looked on with steely eyes. “Any objections to that?”

Spike rubbed his forehead, swishing his tail to and fro. He beseeched Button with a hot breath.

“Your wounds made us scream bloody murder
But if they hurt her, they’ll be dead
Our friends are waiting for a savior
Let’s all try not to lose our head”

Rumble fluttered up to Button’s height and squeezed the shorter pony’s shoulders. “See, I think what Spike is trying to do here is let you down gently—”

Button shrugged him off and hopped down, looking from Spike, to Rumble, to Apple Bloom as he moved around the library.

“Destiny’s call thunders within your heart
Destiny’s chosen you to stand apart
We’ll start
To load our cart
We’ll make a change
We’ll play our part
We’ll make adventuring our art

“We’ll take a dive!
Dive!
Dive!
Through danger!

“I know the prospect seems quite frightening
To battle through the hail and lightning
Your jaw is tightening

“In the dive!
Dive!
Dive!
Through danger!

“From hereon in the tension’s heightening
A dive through danger brings us there”

Spike shrugged. “Well, what can it hurt?”

“What?” Rumble bumped noses with the dragon. “How can you say that? He’s had no military training, and he’s got no weird pony superpowers like Apple Bloom! He’s gonna get shredded!”

Button hefted his front legs onto Rumble’s back. “But when you get shredded, you’ll be happy to have me to do a little repair work.”

Spike glanced at Apple Bloom and cracked a smile. “He would be the only one of us who’s had any real medical training in the last couple years.”

Rumble threw his forelegs in the air. “Fine. We’ll ask Captain Carrot when she gets here. Final decision is hers.”

“Never thought I’d hear that from you,” Care said as she trotted through the door. She glanced around the library, stopping to narrow her eyes when they found Button. “Is there something else you wanted to add?”

“I want to join the mission.” Button saluted—in a fairly sloppy fashion, if you asked Spike. “I have training as a Fire Brigade recruit, and am versed in first-aid and other responses to medical emergencies. And I really wanna help Sweetie Belle.”

Care frowned, then glanced up at Spike. “What do you think? We’re pretty civilian-heavy already, but… You know him better than I do.”

Spike rested his hands on his hips. He looked Button over, from his head to his tail. There was a firmness in his stance. A sureness in his eyes. A fire in his heart. “Something tells me… we should bring him along. He’s not lying about his skills, and he’s got the heart for it. I mean, he’s already put his life on the line for Sweetie and Scootaloo…”

He smiled. “I say go for it.”

Button broke out into a large, ear-to-ear grin. “Dive!”

Spike tilted his head towards Rumble. “Dive?”

Rumble sighed, but nodded all the same. “Dive.”

All three burst out in synch, in perfect harmony.

“Through danger!

“A violent evil we’ll be chasing
Our limbs are pumping, hearts are racing
It feels amazing

“On our dive!
Dive!
Dive!
Through danger!

“With all our righteous anger blazing
Our dive through danger takes us there”

Care Carrot’s eyes widened. She took a few steps back, easing her way to Apple Bloom’s side. “Did I miss something?”

Apple Bloom waved a hoof. “Just go with it.”

Button stood together with Spike and Rumble, holding them around the waist as they stared out the door and into the sunrise.

“Destiny’s voice whispers deep in the night
Calling to Button Mash, Rumble, and Spike
Tonight
We make our flight
To journey on
To start a fight
An end to Caballeron’s blight

"We’re on a dive!
Dive!
Dive!
Through Danger!

“Our fellowship shall not be broken
With every hidden tomb we open
Don’t think we’re jokin’

“It’s a dive!
Dive!
Dive!
Through Danger!

“Our enemies we’ll all be routing
We won’t be faltering or doubting
This battle cry is what we’re shouting!

“The dive through danger brings us there!”

***

Flurry Heart pushed her scrambled eggs around on her plate. She’d long given up on eating them, and it’d been almost as long since she stopped trying to make them a work of art. Food wasn’t the most malleable medium.

“Flurry, is something wrong?” Twilight Sparkle paused in her systematic dismantling of a hash brown or twenty. “You barely touched anything.”

“I’m fine,” Flurry lied. She spread an oversized wing and wrapped it around her torso. Images flashed through her mind. Images of a dark beast, a jagged dagger, and the screams of a heart torn in twain. Nightmares by the night, each worse than the last. “Is my daddy coming over soon?”

“Probably not,” Twilight said. “He’s really busy with the whole changeling thing in Canterlot. I’m sure Celestia will have everything sorted before you know it.”

She winked. “Until then, you get to stay with your favorite aunt.”

Flurry Heart twisted her lips into a wicked snigger. “Oh, is Aunt Yearling coming over?”

“Hay, now, she’s my favorite aunt.” Twilight Sparkle looked up as a Royal Guardspony entered the room. “Yes, Commander Skyhook?”

The batpony bowed at the neck. “Your Highness, Merry Mare has arrived for her ten-o’-clock appointment.”

“Oh, yeah.” Twilight Sparkle glanced at the wall. Flurry saw the clock; it was a few minutes until ten. Enough time for Twilight to swallow, but that was about it. “Thanks, Skyhook. Can you stall until I get there?”

“As you wish,” he said, and vanished from the dining room.

Twilight Amore nudged Flurry in the ribs with her wingtip, giggling. “But one day, Buttercup realized that when he said ‘as you wish,’ what he really meant was ‘I love you.’”

Stella clasped her talons together and beamed. “I love that story!”

Silver Lance bobbed his head as he chewed on his toast. “I like the swordfight.”

“Me, too!” Stella picked up her fork and fenced with it, warding off imaginary foes. “I am not left-hooved!”

Stella and Silver laughed as their meal dissolved into an adventure of epic proportions. Twilight Sparkle blushed as she glared at Twilight Amore. “I’ll have you know, Amore, that our relationship is strictly professional. And, at times, slightly doctor-patient.”

Corona spoke up for the first time since the meal began. “So you do play doctor?”

Twilight Sparkle’s face burned at a slightly cooler temperature than the surface of the sun. She slid her seat back and folded her wings tight against her sides. “I am studying his tribe, and also his capabilities as an individual—”

“Twilie,” Twilight Velvet said, “you’ve dug yourself deep enough, honey. No need to grab the shovel.”

“Right.” Twilight Sparkle breathed a huff and stomped out of the room. “Meeting with Merry. Much preferable.”

Flurry leaned across the table to whisper to Corona. “What’s ‘playing doctor?’”

Corona’s beak snapped shut. She turned her head to keep one eye on the rest of the diners, and the other eye on Flurry. “How old are you again?”

“Twelve.” Flurry leaned on her forelegs. “Why? How old are you?”

“Sixteen.” Corona waved a talon in Velvet’s general direction. “Young enough to sit at the kids table, old enough to resent it.”

“I guess I’m not quite there yet.” Flurry kicked her hind legs beneath the table. “I dunno. I don’t think even Spike resents the kids table. And he’s like, twenty or something.”

Corona’s eyes unfocused. She blinked them back into alignment. “Spike the Hero sits at the kids table?”

“I mean, sometimes.”

Corona wrapped her talons around her beak. Holding it shut? Or something else? Flurry wasn’t quite up-to-date on griffon body-language, she supposed.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Corona said after a moment.

“Shoot.” Flurry nudged her eggs around on her plate, watching the puffy little globs tumble. “I’m game.”

“What do you know about dreams?”

Flurry’s fork fell from her telekinetic grip and clattered. She scooped it back up with a flash of magic, hoping nopony noticed. At least, she decided to ignore the concerned looks everybody was giving her from down the table. “I know a thing or two. I guess. I’ve been studying a little bit at school.”

Corona nodded. She hushed her voice so that only Flurry could hear. “My father’s been having terrible nightmares for a long time. Almost as long as I can remember. Some nights he’s fine, but others he wakes up screaming. Or roaring. Or… or crying.”

Corona drummed her talons against the tabletop. “He thinks he’s hiding it, but he’s not. He can’t.”

Her eyes narrowed. Her red-tipped feathers flared at the ends of her wings. “And neither can you.”

Flurry’s heart fell deep into her stomach. She twiddled her forehooves, looking away from Corona’s piercing eye. “So… what? You think we’re having the same dreams?”

“I don’t know.” Corona smoothed down the feathers just behind her wrist. “But I do know that a few of the world’s most magical creatures have dreams with meaning.”

“Meaning,” Flurry said, thinking back to the images of Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle being torn from their home. “That’s a word for it.”

Corona tapped the tips of her claws together, clicking her beak. “I was hoping… I was hoping if you could explain your dreams, I could help my father with his. But…”

Corona leaned heavily on her elbows, brushing her head feathers back. “I don’t know. The changeling mystery, the dreams, the relationship between our countries… there’s so much I don’t really understand, but… But if I try to understand them, maybe I’ll be ready for them when I succeed my father.”

“Your father’s not immortal?” Flurry Heart snapped a hoof over her mouth. Her eyes grew wide as she squeaked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I just thought King Andean was—Is he?”

Corona looked away, her ears laying across her head. Her eyes found Stella, who crossed forks with Silver in a battle for the ages. “I don’t know. He’s… very old. He has ruled for five-hundred years. Only recently did he actually… take a wife. But she—”

She snapped her talons. For a moment, Flurry saw a spark flare between them. “I’ve never expected anything to last forever. I’ve never had the luxury.”

Flurry felt her ears droop alongside her wings. “I’m sorry.”

Corona sigh caused the feathers on her chest to shiver. “What do you dream about?”

“Terrible things, mostly.” Flurry sucked in her lips. “Ponies being kidnapped. Monsters stealing hearts. Assassins hurting Auntie Celestia. Evil spirits haunting the mountains.”

Corona rolled her eyes and tilted her head. “My father would say we live in interesting times.”

“Ain’t that the truth?” Flurry hugged herself tight. “And as far as I know, they’ve all come true.”

“Really?” Corona’s eyebrows lowered. “How quickly?”

“One came true the day after I had it.” Flurry slipped a bite of egg into her mouth. Cold, rubbery, and gross. Bad idea. “That was this Thursday.”

“I guess I wouldn’t know when my father’s come true. If they do. I never…” Corona tilted her head back and forth. “I never had the courage to ask him.”

“Maybe you should.” Flurry smiled. It kinda felt like she was Princess Twilight Sparkle, giving a friendship lesson. Or maybe a daughtership lesson or something. “If he knows it’s something you’re worried about, he might be able to explain it to you. I think he’d want to. I know he loves you.”

Corona made a fist and leaned her cheek against it. “We don’t get many opportunities to talk these days.”

“Yeah.” The vigor in Flurry’s heart died down with a fizzle. Her smile leaned heavily as she blew a breath. “Okay.”

Corona shrugged. “But I can try.”

Flurry bobbed her head in a noncommittal acknowledgement. At least, that’s how it looked in her imagination. Her ears twitched as she caught a few notes of Twilight Sparkle’s voice drifting into the room. Her eyes followed the sound and she saw her aunt in all her glory, the frazzled look in her eye notwithstanding.

Beside her was the face of evil.

It was a pony pulled straight from the most horrific of nightmares. A mare with no equal in what she would do, who she would hurt. It was a mare who stomped demons beneath her hoof and laughed. Who hated everybody Flurry loved.

Flurry Heart’s blood ran cold as Twilight Sparkle laid a wing across the mare’s back.

“Have you met my family, Merry?” A little light returned to Twilight Sparkle’s eyes as she pointed to each diner at the table. “That’s Silver Lance, my nieces Twilight Amore and Flurry Heart, and of course my mother Twilight Velvet. And these are Their Royal Highnesses Corona and Stella of Felaccia.”

“No, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” Merry Mare looked straight at Flurry. “Until now.”

“Merry Mare used to be Mayor of Ponyville until Applejack took office.” Twilight Sparkle’s wing lifted from Merry’s back a little too hastily to be altogether friendly. She gave her mother a pointed look. “She’s helping with the case you’re on right now.”

Velvet stood up, shoving her plate aside. “I guess that means the fun time’s over, kids. Play nice and don’t scare the guards too much.”

The three mares left, leaving the kids in a cold, cold atmosphere.

“She…” Silver Lance glanced at his older sisters, his mouth moving slowly. “She was very scary. Why was she scary?”

“Flurry?” Corona reached across the table to touch Flurry’s wing. “Why do you look like that?”

Tears collected in Flurry Heart’s eyes, before pouring down her cheeks. Every hair seemed to stand on end. Her feathers fell out of alignment as her wings ached to fly far, far away.

“I-I-I saw that mare in a dream.” Flurry looked Corona in the closest eye. “And she was the one who wanted to hurt Auntie Celestia.”

Stella hopped into the air, her wings spread. “We have to tell Princess Twilight! And Grandma Velvet!”

“No!” Flurry almost screamed the word. She lowered her hooves. “Wait. We can’t tell them while Merry Mare is here. She might try to hurt them.”

“What can she do?” Twilight Amore said. “Aunt Twilight is an alicorn and she’s just an earth pony.”

“No.” Silver Lance tapped his horn. “No, her magic is different somehow. It’s weird. And cold. And slimy.”

“Of course!” Amore stood atop the table and gritted her teeth. “The magic of a killer!”

Flurry bit down on her sister’s tail and dragged her back. “The point is, we have to wait until she leaves. Then we can go to the adults.”

Silver trotted around the table, a pronounced frown on his muzzle. “But until then, we’re all still in danger. So maybe we should watch her.”

Stella hovered over his head and pumped a foreleg. “Yeah! Keep tabs on the perpetrator. Learn her little secrets. Be ready to sound the alarm in case of monstrous magic!”

“Hold it!”

Flurry nearly jumped out of her skin at Corona’s bellow. She hugged her middle and forced her wings to fold across her back. “What do you mean?”

“This idea is several flavors of horrible.” Corona counted down on her talons. “One, she might actually not be the mare from your dream. Two, this dream might not actually be true; we have no way of knowing. Three, if she really is dangerous, we’re just kids! We shouldn’t be sneaking around; we should be finding somebody who actually stands a chance against her.”

“So—” Silver Lance lit his horn to gather up a few plates, stacking them atop each other. “—so like the Royal Guardsponies? I could call Commander Skyhook and we could tell him.”

“Maybe?” Stella alighted the back of a chair and hunched her shoulders to keep balance. “Would he believe us, though?”

“Yeah.” Silver tossed his mane, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because we’re just kids.” Stella clasped her talon around her beak, scratching at the sharp edge. “In the stories, the adults never listen to the kids.”

Twilight Amore’s eyes lit up. “Unless we throw a tantrum!”

“No screaming,” Corona said with a low voice.

“We have to do something.” Flurry Heart stood from her chair and pushed it in. She circled around the table, rubbing the base of her horn. There had to be a way to protect everyone while still nabbing the villain. The alleged villain, she supposed. There was definitely something fishy about Merry Mare.

“We need proof of some sort.” She went from eye to eye, from her siblings to their new friends. “But we’re not gonna look alone. Silver and Stella, you need to talk to Commander Skyhook about this.”

“Got it, sis.”

Stella hugged him tight around the neck. His eyes bulged. “Gawrock, we’re a team!”

Flurry pointed her horn with a spark of magic. “Corona, Amore, we need to keep an eye on Merry and make sure she’s not hurting anyone. If the three of us stick together, at least one of us can fly and get some real help.”

She held a hoof out to the elder griffon princess. “If you’re with us.”

Corona clasped her talons together beneath her beak. “Well, I wanted to learn how dreams work. Time to find out.”

“It’s like a real adventure,” Stella squeaked. She hugged Silver even tighter. “This is so cool!”

Silver would have said something in response, had he the ability to speak.

Author's Note

Both Martial's ditty and Button's lament are originals, with no tune to accompany them.

However, the big song of the chapter, featuring Rumble, Spike, and Button, can be sung to the tune of High Adventure from the Aladdin Broadway Musical! It's definitely an appropriate inspiration.

The Tales of the Soulless

Tragedy strikes our small town once again. Amber Waves, a local weaver, was found dead in the Everfree Forest last night, having ingested a poisonous plant mixture. The poison appears to be self-inflicted. She is survived by her husband Kiln Stovepipe and her daughter Ember. This is the second pony to lose their lives to the forest this month, the other having been Merry Mare’s and Poni Caballeron’s young son, Happy. Mayor Filibuster is urging everypony to stay indoors at night and to remain as far away from the outskirts of the forest as possible.

—Excerpt from the Ponyville Daily, circa 992 CE (eight years before the return of Nightmare Moon), from Merry Mare’s private collection. No unaltered copies can be found in the newspaper archives.

***

Twilight Velvet sat across the table from Merry Mare, onetime Mayor of Ponyville. Merry tapped her hoof against a manila folder she’d brought along, her eyes darting around the throne room. She sat in Fluttershy’s throne, a place she’d migrated to when Twilight Sparkle had asked her to take a seat.

She held herself in the throne well enough, but it was fairly obvious to the trained eye that she wasn’t entirely comfortable. The odd twitch to her movements, the heavy breath that came after too long had passed without speech, the way her ears faced backward ever so slightly.

Part of that might have been the information she bore, of course, but Velvet was paranoid enough to take note of it.

Twilight Velvet glanced at her daughter, who strolled around the map that sat in the midst of the open circle of thrones. Locations familiar and exotic shimmered with magic, from Canterlot to Felaccia. Twilight Sparkle floated a notepad to her side and turned to Merry.

“So…” Twilight pressed her pencil’s eraser against her lips, avoiding Merry’s eyes. “You had something to say about the recent… kidnapping?”

Merry exhaled through her nose. “I’ve been digging around.” She flipped open the folder, shuffling around the contents distractedly. “When Roseluck told me Scootaloo was missing, I spoke with several other clients, looked into the seedier places in town, and dug up a few old contacts from my days as mayor. I found an interesting story at the tavern, of a newcomer to Ponyville who started and ended a brawl in the space of two seconds. He seems to fit the description of one of the attackers.”

Twilight Velvet’s ears shot up. “Where did you hear a description of the suspects?”

“My client.” Merry’s eyebrows lowered, darkening her eyes behind her spectacles. “Roseluck confided in me based on what Button Mash told her. As a therapist, I have to deal with a great deal of necessary patient-doctor confidentiality, but this is life-and-death.”

She shook her head, and Velvet felt her heart melt just a little. The former mayor drooped, her eyes downcast. “Not just Scootaloo’s and Sweetie Belle’s, but also Roseluck’s. I don’t think she can survive without her daughter.”

Merry’s jaw tightened ever so slightly. She lifted a sheet of paper from her lap, which had a small portrait attached via paperclip. “My old contacts from the Baltimare Police Department had this.”

Twilight Velvet lit her horn and drifted the profile across the table. She brought the page close to her face and removed the picture. The colt was pretty spot-on, from a blue mop of a mane, to the devilish smirk Button had described. She continued down the line, to convicted crimes. “His name’s Rhombus. He was a juvenile delinquent; roughed up some kids on the playground real bad. Let’s see… Petty theft. Breaking and entering.” Her breath hitched. “And committed at least one murder before he graduated high school. He took a liking to a girl, but her boyfriend took offense. Rhombus took the colt’s life.”

A purple-feathered wing swung into view. Velvet jolted and glanced up at her daughter as she floated overhead. “Sweetie, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you flying. I’m supposed to be the hover-mom.”

“Sorry.” Twilight Sparkle perched on the armrest. “This is all so surreal, still. I mean, Sweetie’s kinda local-famous, but neither of their families are very rich. I don’t get the motive.”

“Rarity’s pretty famous, honey.” Velvet tapped her horn against Twilight’s shoulder. “And they were both partially schooled by a certain princess when they were kids.”

“Oh yeah.” Twilight’s mouth popped open. Her head snapped around to glance between Merry and her mother. “Oh gosh. Oh no. Did they kidnap them to get at me?”

“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Merry said. The first sentence came out in a rush, but she paced the following few slower, more thoughtfully. “It will just make you upset. It’ll cloud your decision-making process. You don’t have all the facts, and you won’t get them until the perpetrators are caught. But we have a lead.” She indicated an envelope containing a couple receipts. “He took the train into town, and chances are he took it out.”

“Probably not,” Twilight Velvet said. “It would be borderline impossible to… board a train with…”

Something caught her eye. On the edge of her vision, trying desperately to not be noticed, was her grandson and one of the visiting princesses. They crept around the edge of the throne room, their heated gazes locked on Merry.

“To board a train with hostages,” Merry finished for her. She glanced the way Velvet’s eyes jumped, but caught no sign of the hidden children. “But check the receipt. It’s not a passenger train; it’s the cargo train to Dodge Junction. They might have bribed a railway worker, or merely snuck in, to hide the girls out of sight in a freight car.”

Silver Lance poked his head around a tapestry. Stella Ursagryph appeared above him. Silver waved at a nearby guard, speaking out in the loudest “Psst!” Velvet had ever heard. Commander Skyhook frowned as he made his way over to the colt, probably to reprimand him for sneaking into a private meeting.

Velvet shifted her attitude. She appeared to put her full attention on Merry, while quietly keeping tabs on her grandchild in the corner. Silver wasn’t one to do things without reason. He was too steady, too careful, too much like his mother. If he was there breaking the rules, then it was for something he felt was truly important.

Twilight Sparkle looked the receipt over, pressing her lips together. “I would have thought these stallions would be smart enough to not use their own name.”

“It’s not exactly a well-known name.” Twilight Velvet shuffled the data back together, folding it up in a handy little bundle. “I’ve sure never heard of Rhombus being in cahoots with the others.”

Merry’s eyebrows jumped up. “You know their names? If you tell me, I could probably look into—”

“I don’t think I can, I’m afraid.” Velvet shrugged. “It’s not my decision to make.”

Merry narrowed her gaze. “Aren’t you leading the investigation?”

“Not alone.” Velvet stood up, dusting her rump off. A jingle pulled her attention upward. She masked her glance by stretching her neck. In the tree-root chandelier, decorated with memories from her daughter’s time in Ponyville, Velvet saw three winged forms leaping nearly-silently through the crystals. So it was a family-wide conspiracy, then. “Even I have people to answer to. I’ll see if I can’t get you cleared, but… you were mayor once. You know how it is.”

Merry Mare removed her spectacles. “Then I suppose without further ado, I’ll take my leave and let you continue the investigation.”

Coldstone, a crystal pony soldier in Twilight’s personal guard, walked alongside her to lead her to the door. When she was gone, Twilight Velvet shouted at the top of her lung. “Alright you kids! Get down here right now!”

Flurry, Corona, and Amore landed one after the other. Silver and Stella scrambled up soon after, trailed by Skyhook.

Twilight Sparkle suppressed a shriek at their sudden appearance. “How long have you kids been listening in?”

Corona tapped her talons and said nothing. Amore and Silver looked at each other and shrugged. Stella was content to smile.

That left Flurry Heart to be the responsible one. Velvet narrowed in on her eldest granddaughter, wrinkling her brow with concern. “Flurry? Why were you spying on us?”

“W-we weren’t.” Flurry aimed an oversized wing towards the enormous double-doors of the castle. “We were spying on her.”

Velvet glanced at her daughter, seeking insight into Flurry’s words. Seeing that Twilight was just as confused as she was, she returned her attention to Flurry. “Why were you spying on Merry? She doesn’t seem like the type of person to interest you.”

Flurry Heart kept her head down. Her wings slumped around her hooves. “I think she’s evil.”

Twilight Sparkle barked a laugh. “Well, she’s certainly not the nicest of ponies.”

Velvet gave her daughter a dour frown. Twilight Sparkle coughed and took a step back.

“I have dreams,” Flurry said. “Bad dreams. I dreamed about Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo the night they were kidnapped. I dreamed about Auntie Celestia when she was attacked. And… and I dreamed about Miss Mare. And she’s… she’s a really bad person.”

Twilight Velvet sighed and pulled Flurry into a hug. “Honey, it was just a dream. They’re just our minds making sense of our day—”

“I don’t want to believe my dreams.” Flurry voice waivered. She kept a brave face, even as she hid it from view. “But they keep coming true.”

Velvet stroked Flurry’s mane. She looked at the other kids to see if they would add anything, but they remained silent. “Tell you what? I’ll spend some time investigating Merry Mare. Personally. Well see if she’s got anything to do with your dreams. In the meantime, you kids need to leave dangerous stuff to us adults. That’s what we’re here for. To keep you safe.”

She gave Flurry a gentle push to stand beside the other children. “For heaven’s sake, childhood’s only so long. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Flurry finally lifted her chin. She gave Velvet a smile, small but precious. “Yes, Grandma. We will. Thank you.”

“In the meantime…” Twilight Velvet passed the manila folder to Skyhook. “Contact the sheriff of Dodge Junction. We’ve got a lead to follow, and I wanna strike the iron while it’s hot.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Velvet smiled at the children. “And you five. Get yourselves cleaned up, because Pinkie Pie’s taking you on a tour of Ponyville today.”

Twilight Amore leaped into the air with a flap of her wings. “Yeah! Pinkie!”

“Oh my gosh! We’re meeting Pinkie Pie!” Stella hugged Silver’s neck long before he could voice his happiness. “This is literally the best day ever!”

Velvet caught a change in Corona’s eyes. They widened in pleasant surprise, but just as quickly narrowed and shot towards Flurry. Flurry, for her part, let her smile fade into gentle, practiced neutrality.

“And you—” Velvet touched a hoof to Flurry’s cheek. “—don’t even worry about Merry. There’s nothing in this world that can stand a chance against the Sparkle family. Never has been, never will.”

The kids shuffled off. Velvet sighed as she watched them, and turned to Twilight Sparkle. She shot a glance at the gemstone necklace her daughter always wore… and the white scar that lay beneath. “We get roughed up, sometimes, but we always get back up.”

***

Corona clicked her beak. Flurry took it to mean that she was vaguely annoyed, based on the limited griffon body language she knew. “What is it?” Flurry said. “Are you upset?”

“No, I’m thinking.” Corona’s tone said differently. It was forceful, but not in a bullying way. More like what her mother called “passive aggressive.” “If Merry’s as dangerous as you say, it’ll take more than your grandmother ‘investigating’ her. And once again, we’re supposed to do nothing.”

“Grandma Velvet’s stronger than you think.” Flurry glanced over her shoulder. Coldstone followed at a respectful distance; close enough to be on hand, far enough to not stifle the kids. “And I refuse to do nothing.”

Corona snapped her beak shut. “You planned on this?”

“I figured the answer would be something like that.” Flurry Heart glanced up at the griffon chick. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t use our tour of Ponyville as an excuse to do a little ‘investigating’ of our own.”

Corona nodded slowly. She tapped a talon against the side of her beak. “Where did you plan to start?”

“Where all great adventures start,” Flurry said. “Sugarcube Corner.”

***

Merry Mare walked silently through the streets of the City of Ponyville. She returned greetings with a smile; waves with a nod. A breeze pulled at her mane and led her down a side street, where the crowds were thinner and the scrutiny more sinister. Even in Ponyville, there were dangers to those who walked unawares.

Merry counted herself among them. She leaned against a stained concrete wall and spoke to thin air. “They took the bait.”

A disgusting, trepidatious thing squirmed from the shadows. It slithered through the air, taking shape even as it moved to stand beside her. A thin-maned, rat-faced pony grinned at her with a cheese-eating smile. “A fish will grasp at any lure if it’s starving. It’s hardly a surprise at this point.”

The corner of Merry’s lip quirked. “I wasn’t fishing for compliments, Scuttlebutt, if that’s what you mean. They’ll find Poni’s safehouse before the day is over. Speaking of, which artifact did you choose to plant there?”

“The griffon’s goblet.” Scuttlebutt’s oversized front teeth chattered against his lower jaw. “Last known location: Ahuizotl’s grasping, grimy paws.”

Scuttlebutt’s ear twitched. He lowered his head, his smile becoming a faint scowl. He scratched at the faint moustache prickling from his upper lip. “I had a thought, my lady. If you would permit me?”

Merry raised an eyebrow.

“They will no doubt chase Ahuizotl with the full might of the Equestrian army…” Scuttlebutt narrowed his yellowed eyes. “Aren’t you concerned that, perhaps, their battle may be the death of you beloved husband? I know how hard you took the first death in your fami—”

Merry did not move. She did not speak. She did not so much as visibly react. The only sound in the alleyway was a faint hum of a familiar tune. The only movement was a flicker of light from her saddlebags.

Scuttlebutt attempted to cough, but every last bit of air was cut off from his lungs. He pawed at his throat as the muscles contracted. Squeezing, grasping, constricting like a snake.

Merry shook her head infinitesimally. “You should choose your words more wisely, wight of the barrow downs. Lest they be stolen from you.”

His tan coat faded to sickly gray as his eyes clouded to unplumbable black holes. His body became jelly in her grip and slumped to the ground in a sad little glob.

“I’m not afraid for Poni’s life,” she said, letting the wretched creature grasp faintly for purchase on the smooth back road. “Trust me when I say it’s in good hands.”

Scuttlebutt dragged his body back into the shadows and glowered at her. His lips peeled back to reveal sharp, fishlike teeth. “Of course, my lady. How could I have doubted?”

Merry’s hoof brushed against a tiny bone; the femur of some unfortunate animal. “It’s not one of Fluttershy’s, is it?”

“Probably not. Maybe.” Scuttlebutt shrugged. “If it is, she hasn’t cause to be upset. Squirrels die all the time. Especially in the Everfree.”

He lashed out, not with an attack, but with biting words. “Lots of things die in the Everfree, I’ve heard.”

He was gone before Merry could formulate a response. She stared at the empty alley for a moment, then kicked the bone into the other refuse Scuttlebutt left behind. She supposed she should count her blessings; wights generally craved flesh much more attention grabbing than squirrel meat.

She grimaced as she glanced back to Ponyville’s sunny square and its multicolored populace. Much more attention grabbing.

She swayed as she walked to her office, her glasses low on her muzzle, a quiet song on her lips.

“Armies taking flight
God-hood’s ascent denied
Poni will be set free
We’ll be a family…”

***

Sweetie Belle grasped her head between her hooves. The headaches were worse, now. The pressure under her horn, the burn in her temples, all compounded by watching Scootaloo’s heart being torn from her chest. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, far outpacing the gentle drizzle of water down the cavern walls. She sent magic to her horn for a brief moment of light, a small spark to remind her that life yet existed in the squalor of Ahuizotl’s lair.

Three days without ambrosia. She’d dealt with it before, and would do so again. Much longer, though, and her light would go out. The magic would no longer be able to make the journey through her underdeveloped fairy strings. She would become weak, feeble. After that… she didn’t want to find out what happened after that.

The door fell away, receding into the wall. Precious light flashed into the dim room, broken by an imposing silhouette. A massive earth pony trotted into the cavern, a tray balanced on his back.

“Happy Friday, miss.” The big stallion’s voice rumbled deep in the stones beneath her hooves. “Seems they elected me tae be yer server. Though I suppose that just means I’m the only one willin’ tae do it.”

His face came into the light of her horn. He was strong, no doubts about it, being as big as—or more so—than Big Macintosh. His orange side-burns lined his jaw-line like a helmet. A hat slightly too small for him sat atop his head, looking fairly out of place in relation to the rest of him. “Name’s Kiln.”

“I remember you,” Sweetie said, her voice low. She turned away, gritting her teeth tight behind closed lips. “I brained you with a rock.”

“Aye, lass. An’ I cannae say I blame ye.” His hoof went to the back of his head. The action ended with a wince. “Listen, lass. Ye cannae live without nourishment. Eat somethin’ an’ regain yer strength.”

He slid a couple of packages through the bars of her cell. Each one wrapped in a thick, brown paper and tied with a string. “Special imports from Equestria. All the comforts of home.”

She scooped a package up with a hoof and rolled it closer. Inside was a sliced potato and carrots. In the other package, she found bread and cheese in a sort of sandwich. The third one just contained a water bottle with the most clear, delicious, precious water she’d ever seen in her life.

“Mind ye don’t make yerself sick.” Kiln sighed as his bushy eyebrows came together. “I know ye’ve had aught these past few days.”

Just tasting the cheese nearly made her vomit right then and there. It was too rich. She nibbled at a potato chunk, interspersing small bites with sips of water. She glanced at Kiln to see he was watching her. “What do you want?”

He frowned, pulling one side of his mouth back and turning his head. “To convince meself that I’m doin’ the right thing.”

Sweetie Belle scoffed. She shook her head, but the motion made it feel like her brain was bouncing around her skull. She steadied herself with a hoof. “You aren’t going to manage that. Not in here. Not after what you did. What you let happen.”

He removed his hat from his head and held it over his chest. “There’s more goin’ on here than ye know.”

Sweetie tossed a carrot at him. It fell short and thudded to a stop at the base of her cage. “More going on! Let me tell you what’s going on, you creep! My oldest friend just got her heart torn out!”

Fresh tears stung her cheeks and thundered in her head. “You left… a stallion I care a lot about lying bleeding on the floor! I don’t even know if he’s alive, or dead, or…”

She waved at the hard wood circling around her, closing in on all sides. “And I’m trapped here in the dark and the wet, the prisoner of a monster that would make my worst nightmares wet the bed!”

He kept his face stony, still, as she walked closer. “Are you convinced yet?” she asked. “Are you feeling all warm and fuzzy at all the wonderful things you’ve done? Are you proud of yourself, you big, dumb walking pile of bricks?”

Kiln returned the hat to its place. He chuckled lightly. “Ye remind me of me daughter. She’s right ‘round yer age, more or less. A spirited lass, who takes nae guff. One who knows what she desires, an’ always puts her mind to it. They dinnae let less than the best intae Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.”

He looked to Sweetie with lidded eyes. “Then again, they dinnae allow the daughter of a poor, widowed ironworker in either. When he has nae place tae go, and nae hope within him. He grows desperate. He seeks other means of elevating his daughter’s station. He turns tae the trade of rare antiquities, ill-gained or otherwise.”

He tipped his hat to her. “Without Caballeron, me daughter would never have lived her dreams. Never even had a chance to begin. I wanna thank ye for the opportunity to pay him back.”

Sweetie grasped the bars tight. Her throat was tight with pain and emotion. “So. Everything is worth it, because your daughter got to go to a nice school. That’s worth me being down here. That’s worth helping a monster do unspeakable things to my friends. That’s worth kidnapping, and murder.”

She backed away, a step at a time, shaking her head. “She must be so proud, knowing that her schooling only cost you your soul.” She kicked the cheese sandwich across the room. It fell into the dim pool with a tiny plunk.

Kiln watched it sink, the bread dissolving, into the darkness of the pool’s endless depths. “Nay. She barely knows I’m alive. It’s best that way.”

He gritted his teeth. “I thought as you did, once. That there was merit tae keepin’ certain morals intact. That in the end, all things worked together for good. But ye ken… aught. Life’s unfair. All it takes is one turn for the worse, an’ all ye loved is gone, and all that made ye a good person is dead.”

He lowered his left ear and sent her a narrow glance. “Understand summat. Ye’ll be faced with choices the next few days. Some o’ these choices will lead you to doin’ terrible things. But the alternative, the reverse, is tae watch as yer dear friend is tortured in mind, body, and soul.”

The skin on Sweetie’s ears burned. She shrunk away from him, leaving her veggies lying in the middle of her cell. The sinking pit in her stomach deepened. The look on Scootaloo’s face as she was attacked…

Kiln stood up and made his way towards the door. “Question is, what’s more important? Your loose-kept morals, or Scootaloo’s life?”

The door slid away as he approached. He shuffled back, looking down at a new arrival. One of the Painted Ones walked in with a spear held high. He was quickly followed by several others, led by Dissero himself.

Kiln bowed at the neck. “What brings ye here, mates? Just doin’ me duty feedin’—”

“Be still,” Dissero said, brushing past the bigger pony. His sunken eyes glared daggers at Sweetie Belle. He opened his mouth, and the same twisted, unnatural words rolled forth. The bars around her returned to life, squirming and wriggling out of her way. “Come, unicorn. Ahuizotl has need of you.”

Sweetie waved at the untouched portion of her meal. “I don’t even get to finish?”

Dissero growled at the back of his throat. “You will eat when Ahuizotl wills it.”

“Fret not, lass.” Kiln scooped up the food and set it on his tray. “There’ll be more here when ye return.”

Dissero looked upon Kiln like he might gaze at a particularly disgusting insect. He shunted the pony from his mind and turned his milky white eyes to Sweetie. “Come.”

He set off at a surprisingly swift pace. Sweetie had to canter just to keep up with his powerful, purposeful strides. Perhaps there was more to the old pony that just skin and bones? They led her down a different corridor than before, which was fine by her. The less she thought about the throne room, the better. The new tunnel led them to an open room, and the path gained a sheer ledge on one side leading down into darkness. She swallowed hard as she gave the abyss a knee-shaking look. Nothing could be seen but a single, opaque blot.

A spear slid between her and the empty air. “Stay back,” the Painted One guard said. “No one will dare follow you down.”

“Duly noted.” Sweetie Belle strained her ears. She heard something, but it wasn’t quite clear. It echoed all around, bouncing off the walls, falling into the pit, dying quietly against soft coats. An odd throb that crawled into her ears and scratched at the door of her heart, begging to be let in.

The torches on the walls swayed as fresh air flowed through the caverns. The Painted One to her left let the tip of his spear scratch against the rock wall. Sparks flew. A second glance told her that their spears were tipped with enchanted crystal. They were not as primitive as they seemed at first. A weapon like that could have a hair’s-breadth edge, or a cauterizing heat, or a biting jolt. She suspected that even the Painted Ones’ colorations had magical properties. Some magic-laced coat dyes or the like.

The sound was confused amongst the chaos when they came to the next room. Pickaxes, shovels, wheelbarrows, drills; all manner of digging tools were on display, clearing a corridor of crumbled stone. Painted Ones stood at the edges of the work zone, looking on. None of the workers had any of the Painted Ones’ decorations or designs. They were all plain. Captive. Enslaved.

“Oh my gosh.” Sweetie’s hoof went to her mouth. “What are they all doing?”

Dissero halted long enough to turn on her. “Still your tongue, unicorn,” he said, snapping his teeth. He resumed his march, paying the workers no mind.

Sweetie spent a moment examining the ponies. They all shared the same slacked expression. Dull eyes, limp ears, mechanical movements. Mind controlled? Brainwashed? Devoid of hope?

Her heart leaped in her chest when she saw a familiar orange coat. “Scootaloo! Can you hear—?”

The guard stabbed her in the flank. Just enough to draw blood. Violent webs of pain shot through her leg, nearly sending her crumbling to her face. She caught sight of Scootaloo once more, though her friend ignored her. The pegasus continued to pull her cart of debris along, her face blank, her eyes glazed, her lips parted in an effort to continue to breathe.

“She is no longer yours, unicorn,” Dissero said. A faint touch of a new expression pulled at his wrinkled features; that of pure, cruel joy. “She belongs to Ahuizotl, to do as he sees fit. For now, he sees fit that she be put to work.”

He held his head high, his eyes shimmering within the folds of his purple cloak. “Along with all those unworthy to serve as anything more than a battery. Let the earth tremble.”

“Let the earth tremble,” the other Painted Ones said in synch.

He gestured towards a branching tunnel. The soldiers took their stance on either side of the opening, their spears held vertical, while Dissero shoved Sweetie Belle forward.

She sent a last, desperate glance towards her friend. “I’ll be back for you,” she whispered. “Pinkie Pie Promise.”

As the stone cutting faded, the thrumming came clearer. It was wet and globular, a pump working against flesh, a rhythmic flow. A massive heartbeat. When Sweetie Belle stepped from the shadows into the light of the next room, she couldn’t so much as take a breath.

In the midst of a circular room, there sat a vast array of magical crystals, all taking the shape of a Heart’s and Hooves Day heart. Purples, blues, greens, yellows, and every other color imaginable. As varied as ponies themselves. They beat with small, short pulses of energy, each one a silent scream for help, mercy, or death. Their cries were erratic, disunified, panicked.

There had to be more than a hundred.

Sweetie Belle covered her mouth, her lungs burning. A cry finally tore its way from her throat. “What have you done?”

“What indeed, Sweetie Belle?”

The multicolored lights radiated towards a hulking mass at the far side of the room. Powerful legs propelled Ahuizotl’s body into the living rainbow, where his mad eyes shone yellow. “What is the purpose of a spade, but to begin a harvest?” He drew a dagger with his snaking tail. His fingers gripped tight around a handle that was clearly too small for him, but no less deadly. “This… Spade of Hearts does just that. It harvests hearts. Each heart as unique as the pony that birthed it.”

He stepped carefully over the hearts, drawing closer to her. He loomed over her and waved the knife close to her nose. His breath stank of fish, a familiar scent to Sweetie. Her father spent most of his free time fishing these days. Homesickness battled with terror and disgust for priority.

“And that, my little pony, is where I find myself… in need.” Ahuizotl grinned. His jawline was nearly as long as her entire body. His teeth were as sharp as any blade. His breath was as rancid as a week-old crop of bass. “These hearts are, in fact, too unique. They refuse to beat in time with each other. Without this unity, without their powers combined, they are of no use to me.”

He pointed the dagger to her chest. Living color reflected into her eyes with a flash. “Your special talent, your very goal in life, is to unite hearts through song.”

Sweetie Belle’s eyes widened as she looked between the dagger, Ahuizotl’s mad eyes, and the erratically beating hearts. “I refuse. I… I refuse to help you.”

Ahuzotl shrugged. He sheathed the dagger across his back, between the twin swords slung over his shoulders. “Well, then I am afraid I no longer have use for you.”

He picked up a blue gem and examined it closely, pinching it between two claws. “And, come to think of it, I no longer have a use for these baubles.”

He crushed the heart against a stone. Magic flew out in a supernova of life-energy. What was left of the heart dimmed into black stone, which further crumbled to dust. A pained scream echoed from the next chamber over, and was cut short in an instant.

“Such a pity…” He picked up the next heart in line, admiring the sheen of green on his coat. “To go through all this work, only to have it squandered—”

The next pony met their death with a flick of his wrist.

“—by you.”

“Stop it, please!” Sweetie sat down hard and shouted the only thing she could think of at the moment. “Please, I’ll do as you ask! Just don’t hurt anybody!”

Ahuizotl licked his teeth. He stalked away from her, his footfalls landing between hearts. His tail slithered through the air and dug into a pouch slung across his side. A lavender heart, glowing with oh-so-familiar light, appeared in the palm of his tail’s four-fingered hand. “Remember this moment, Sweetie Belle. Remember it well, when you are tempted to disobey. When you are tempted…” A claw scratched along the surface of Scootaloo’s heart. “To watch your friend fade to nothingness.”

He tucked the precious life away. He raised his head and gestured to Sweetie, holding his paw up like an orchestra conductor. “Now. Prove to me you were worth the trouble. Sing, Sweetie Belle. Unite these hearts!”

Sing? Sweetie couldn’t breathe. Now, more than ever, she felt like she’d had the breath knocked out of her. Like her throat was parched by sand being poured down her gullet. Like her guts had tangled up in knots. “I—I don’t know what… what to…”

Dissero kicked her hind leg. “Do as the Almighty Ahuizotl commands, worm!”

Ahuizotl’s fist crushed the stone floor between Sweetie and Dissero. The old earth pony stumbled back, his long cloak tangled in his legs. He gazed at Ahuizotl with awe and terror practically bleeding from his eyes.

“Strike my prize again,” Ahuizotl said, his voice a terrible storm on a raging sea, “and I will tear your throat out with a simple twist of my paw. Never taking a second glance, never regretting my decision. Are we clear, Dissero?”

The old pony grasped his chest with a feeble hoof. “It is as you command, God of the Sun. It is always as you command.”

Ahuizotl prowled around Sweetie with gentle footfalls, light as a feather. “The question of what to sing can only be answered by one individual: You. Only you know what sort of music will unite their hearts. Only you know the words to bring out their strength. Only you…”

He touched a claw to her chin, raising her head. She found herself unable to look away from the slit pupils in the center of his glowing, poisonous eyes. “Only you,” he said again, his voice but a breath against her ear. “Only you have the power of a natural siren’s song.”

His paw hovered over the collected hearts, his coat taking the hue of dozens of ponies at once. “Exert your will, Sweetie Belle. Revel in your yet-undiscovered power. Let your soul blossom into a forge, from which you will build great and terrible weapons…”

He pushed her forward. She tiptoed up to the first of the lonely hearts. It glimmered a faint blue. She reached out to touch it.

Help me, please! I can’t see! It’s so cold in here! Where am I? Where’s my friend? Will you help me?

Her hoof spasmed in its haste to pull away. Tears ran anew down cheeks that were already painfully dirty. She just wanted to curl up in a ball and pretend it was all just a terrible dream.

But she could still feel Ahuizotl’s dark presence behind her.

She sighed out lyrics. Gentle. Faint. Powerless. There was no joy to the song. No hope. No thoughts of happier times or anticipation of days to come. Before long, the newborn song pattered to a stop.

The room continued to throb with disparate heartbeats.

“Disappoint me if you must, Sweetie Belle,” Ahuizotl said. “But we both know you won’t dare disappoint Scootaloo.”

Sweetie Belle wiped her face with the side of her hoof. The sight of so many hearts all shining together was so beautiful in its own dark way.

Please help.

She gasped. That was it. That was the bright spot. They still needed help. These ponies weren’t dead. They were still alive.

That was their hope.

Soulless though their bodies were—despite lifeless eyes and censured voices—they still had a chance. It would be a long shot. It would be dangerous and risky even if everything went perfectly. But with Sweetie Belle there, at least they had a reason to keep going.

She cleared her throat, wishing that she’d done vocal exercises at any point the last few days. It wouldn’t be pretty, but it would be a start. A first step in a larger journey. She took a deep breath in, hummed a tentative note, and began her song.

“When the fields have all faded to ashen dark gray
When the mountains fall into the seas
When the sun will no more bring about the new day
When the mighty are thrown to their knees

“Still I’ll stand by your side
And through all of the night
You won’t have to spend a moment alone
We will share in the light
That our friendship provides
So together we’ll find ourselves home

“When dust of the earth becomes mold and decay
When the stars in the heavens decease
When the memories of old have all faded away
When the greatest have become the least

“Still I’ll hold you real tight
Fighting terror and fright
Though our fears make us tremble and moan
I will know all is right
When I look in your eyes
And I see that I’m already home

“When the spark in my heart becomes ashen and gray
When the strength in my limbs has decreased
When my eyes can no longer describe your fair face
When my body is weak with disease

“Would you love me despite
My faint and waning might
When my body is bitter and cold
Would you share in your light
Would you brighten my night
Then through you I will find my way home…”

Sweetie Belle opened her eyes slowly, carefully, as if an errant blink might break the spell. The thrum of hearts became steady. The flash of light began at the center of the collection, and spread outward in a wave of magic. The cries for help faded, replace by a certain sort of silence; expectancy. When the magic washed over her, she felt their hearts unite with hers, sharing comfort in both directions. There was hope. There was light in the darkness of the underground. There was love.

There was a will to fight.

“Excellent,” Ahuizotl said, placing a paw on her shoulder. It dwarfed her body and pressed hard enough to make her hunch. “I knew you could do it. And now, I believe this concludes our test run. I shall call you again when I have need.”

Sweetie Belle glared over her shoulder. Fire flashed in her eyes. “I’ll be waiting.”

Ahuizotl drew back, his yellow slits narrowing further. He growled in the back of his throat. “Begone with you, then. Dissero! Remove her!”

“As you command, Almighty Ah—”

“And be quick about it.” Ahuizotl grinned like a cat about to pounce on a bird. He patted the pouch at his side. “I’ll be keeping your friend safe, Sweetie Belle. Count on it.”

Dissero grabbed her shoulder roughly and dragged her towards the exit. She didn’t spare Ahuizotl more than a glance as she was pulled away from the hearts. The steady thrum grew more discordant the further she got away, her influence leaving the collection of lost souls.

The faint flash of orange in the stone dust of the mine brought Scootaloo’s courage to mind. The certainty that help was on the way. That Daring Do herself was charging straight from the pages of the storybooks to put an end to Ahuizotl’s mad schemes. It seemed too crazy to be true, but Scootaloo believed it.

To Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo was hope.

The Proverbial First Step

The Vanishing Point approached Canterlot from above, propellers whirring and engines chugging. The airskiff pulled in its outer sails to wheedle its way between two larger airships. Martial Paw’s steady talons gripped the helm. Light adjustments were all he needed to glide the ship towards their prescribed dock. Daring Do stood on the prow, hollering details of what lay ahead.

“You got a ferry hovering over the intersection!” Daring Do pressed down on her helmet to keep it from flying off. “Up three degrees, reduce speed!”

Martial pulled a lever to angle the elevators. The skiff flew easily over the slower-moving vessel. “Traffic control’s out to lunch! Where did all these ponies come from?”

“It’s not where they came from.” Daring Do covered her eyes with a hoof, shielding her from the midday sun. “It’s where they’re going! These are all outbound flights.”

A massive cargo ship eased itself away from Canter Mountain with the aid of a flight of pegasi. Each pony pressed against the starboard side of the vessel, while unicorns ran up and down the sides untying knots. The cargo bay door remained slightly cracked open until an earth pony pulled it shut. Within, dozens of civilians could be seen, huddling in the midst of crates.

Blankety Blank pointed to the ship with a white foreleg. “They’ve got p-passengers in the cargo ships. Wh—what kinda premium are they charging for that?”

“Enough to cover lost cargo space, that’s for sure. What’re they running from?” Daring Do hopped into the rigging, her eyes peeled for any more cross-traffic. Space was clear for the moment, allowing her time to breathe. Canterlot shimmered like a golden crown, its spires bejeweled with gemstones of every flavor. Two years’ worth of recovery efforts had brought the city close to—if not exactly—its former glory. A few signs of Hurricane’s attack remained at the street level, with shuttered homes and cracked walls the most obvious. At first glance, though, it was as beautiful as it’d ever been. It was practically home.

It would have been, if she couldn’t still see Ponyville down the mountainside.

She pawed the pocket watch around her neck. “Let’s make the meeting with Celestia quick. I wanna get to Dinky’s clock shop and give her some of those trinkets to examine. You guys can do whatever. I’ll contact you when we know our next move.”

She gave Blankety a small grin. “With any luck, it’ll be ‘kick Ahuizotl’s butt.’”

A Royal Guardspony of the pegasus persuasion hailed them from a distance. They waved their forelegs in a directing pattern, aiming them towards Canterlot Castle. Martial saluted with a wing and angled the Vanishing Point to the east. The vessel moved swiftly and smoothly on its new bearing, drawn in by faint magnetic spells from the castle’s ramparts.

Blankety Blank licked the air, tasting the magic on the wind. “That’s new. Some sort of at-attraction beam.”

The guard flew closer. Daring Do recognized them; Stonewall, the Captain of the Guard. The mare saluted Daring Do, who returned it as best she could from her place hanging from the envelope. “That,” Stonewall said, “and also the reverse. If another lunatic tries ramming the castle again, they’ll turn the magnet on them and send them flying down the cliffside.”

Blankety Blank stuck his tongue out. “It’s making me queasy.”

Daring grimaced. Now that he mentioned it, the magnetic power was getting to her, too. Tugging at her fairy strings, itching at her heart, churning her stomach. “Why’s it feel so weird?”

“Magnetic force is a form of magic.” Stonewall shrugged. “Some magic doesn’t mix well with other types.”

Daring Do looked at the castle towers. She could see Luna’s observatory and bedroom, closed up and curtained off during her deepest hours of sleep. Higher up, she could see Dream’s Keep, where Luna watched over dreams every night. A peek downward brought the central courtyard into view, with its sculptures, hedges, and the large tree in the middle. A statue of Celestia towered over the rest, carved with careful strokes from a solid block of marble. A statue of Discord—a sister piece to a similar monument in Las Pegasus—waved from its position near the hedge maze. The south wing shimmered with stained glass windows that told the story of Equestrian History, one grandiose event at a time.

The propellers wound down as ropes were thrown down from the airskiff’s gondola. Waiting guardsponies tied the ship fast while Martial Paw set about lowering the Vanishing Point to its spot before the castle. Daring Do lowered the boarding ramp and skittered down to help secure the ship.

A stuffy-looking unicorn clicked his pocket-watch shut. “Lady Yearling, it does me good to see you punctual.”

“’Sup, Natter?” Daring barely payed him a glance as she tugged a rope down with her teeth. “Gimme a sec, willyah?”

He rolled his eyes and held up a scheduling chart. “We’ve barely a second to spare. Princess Celestia and Cadenza both are expecting you in the throne room. They have dire news to share with you.”

Daring bopped him on the head; lightly enough to not hurt, but firm enough to get the point across. “You got your pens in a pretzel? I’m the one giving the report, Natter, not them.”

“Things have… changed since you’ve been gone.” Natter glared through his monocle, scowling with all the power bureaucracy could afford. “Your presence is very sorely needed. Now.”

Daring Do scoffed. She hollered up to the airship. “Marty, you can handle this, right? My adoring public needs me.”

Martial’s beak popped over the side. “Get a move on before you give poor Natter an aneurism.”

“Alright.” Daring bowed and rolled her hoof, affecting a faux posh accent to match Natter’s. “Lead on, Royal Scheduling Advisor, sirrah.”

Natter’s lip twitched. “Don’t make a ninny of yourself.”

Daring Do trotted alongside him, accompanied by several guardsponies in full armor. It was a good walk from the landing platform to the south wing, which contained the throne room itself. An errant stumble caused a jolt of pain to spike through her wing joints, reminding her that a dose of ambrosia was due. Nasty stuff, basically liquid heartburn, but it did its job.

Looking around, Daring saw that there were far more soldiers around than first met the eye. They lined the walls, they prowled the gardens, they peered through nearly every window. They were pretty heavily armed, too. Daring counted at least three ice-arrow archers, a lightning-powered spear, and clawed boots ready to downright maul any idiot who tried something.

“Huh,” Daring muttered. “’Bout time we got better security around here.”

“I’m inclined to agree.” Natter stood aside to give Daring a direct path to the large double doors leading into the south wing. “Do behave yourself.”

“Spoilsport.”

Daring Do nodded to the guardsponies as they heaved the doors open. Her hooves clicked against the marble floor as she walked down the long, long hallway. Light shone through the stained glass windows, decorating the floor with unspeakably beautiful designs. The Fall of Nightmare Moon coated her with silvers and purples as she passed beneath it. The Unification of Equestria shimmered with the pink-hued light of the Hearths Warming Eve Spell. Legendary heroes from Equestrian history stood ready to defend their homeland from dangers of every sort. The Return of Harmony, The Last Stand of Tirek, The Conquest of the Storm King…

She paused beneath DayBreak, the most recent window added to the hall. Celestia lay at the bottom of the window, with a savage spear jutting up from her chest. Above her hovered a blue-coated pegasus mare, whose wings shimmered with silver blades. Between the princess and the assassin, five creatures made their stand. Daring Do was counted among the Knights of Harmony alongside Care Carrot, Blankety Blank, Twilight Velvet, and Time Turner.

“It’s a beautiful piece,” Princess Celestia said, “though the memories that it drums up are painful.”

“Yeah.” Daring Do’s left ear dipped down as she turned. She gave Celestia a cursory bow, then stood up with a smirk, pushing her pith helmet back. “Gotta say, I’ve always preferred you alive and well.”

“The feeling is certainly mutual.” Celestia furrowed her brow as her wings brushed against her back. “Please come into the throne room. We have much to discuss.”

“You’re telling me.” Daring Do matched Celestia’s pace as they trotted through the archway, her lega moving quickly to keep up with the princess’ longer strides. The doors closed behind them, guided by a blue glow. “Ahuizotl’s got the dagger and he’s already used it. There’s no telling what he’ll do with an army of robotic minions like that.”

“That’s the thing.” Princess Cadenza sat on Luna’s throne, sipping something likely stronger than tea. “Several things have converged on Canterlot simultaneously in the last week. Ahuizotl’s theft of the dagger, the return of the changelings, and the kidnapping.”

“Whoa—what?” Daring Do spread her wings. Biiig mistake. She folded them carefully, her entire back aching. “The changelings? What? Was it an invasion? Did they attack Shiny again? Was it that freak Chrysalis?”

“Chrysalis the Tyrant is dead,” Cadence said. “And her daughter is suing for peace.”

Daring Do stared at Cadence. The princess kept her face calm. Unnaturally calm. Solemn and stony, doing everything possible to hold back a tide of emotion that Daring could see just behind the eyes. After everything Chrysalis did to her family, Daring couldn’t really blame her. “Okay. Did Thorax have anything to do with it?”

“I’m afraid not,” Celestia said. She hefted herself into her throne and leaned against the fluffy back-support. “We still haven’t heard from him and his hive since their… forced exile.”

Daring Do tilted her head to the side. “So what makes this batch of changelings think that peace is possible this time?”

“Because Chrysalis, the instigator of the Changeling War, has been butchered. By her own daughter, no less.”

Celestia and Cadence bowed at the neck. Daring Do glanced back at a familiar, deep voice. Her eyes met massive talons, shadowy wings, and a billowing beard of feathers. King Andean Ursagryph clicked his beak and honored Daring Do with a bent knee. “I apologize for my tardiness. Daring Do, Knight of History; it is an honor to once again serve beside you.”

“Likewise, Your Grace.” Daring smirked at Celestia. “You weren’t kidding about things piling up.”

“Andean has offered the help of Felaccia in these trying times.” Celestia spoke tersely, keeping Andean out of sight. At least, as much as it was possible to ignore something that filled a quarter of the room. “Help that I am grateful to receive.”

“I would expect no less of either of us, Celestia.” Andean narrowed his eyes, turning his head to the side to bring her into full view. “Perhaps it is time to share with Dr. Do the purpose of this meeting?”

“Creator forbid we reconnect,” Celestia muttered. In a voice that rose above the beat of her own heart, she addressed Daring. “I’m afraid that the hunt for Ahuizotl must be postponed. We have another matter that requires your immediate attention.”

“Hold your hippogriffs.” Daring Do placed a hoof on her chest and raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been on this mission for two years now. I literally just missed him. If I stop the chase now, he could make up enough headway to—”

“Daring, please.” Celestia swallowed hard. “I know.”

Daring lowered her foreleg. She bobbed her head, breathing slowly. “Okay then. Lay it on me. What happened?”

“Dr. Poni Caballeron has… shall we say ‘switched tactics.’” Celestia produced a manila folder from beside her throne, containing photographs, police reports, and various other sources of information. “Rather than steal rare antiquities, he has kidnapped two young mares. Since you have had the most experience with Caballeron, I want you to lead the investigation. Bring him in, and bring the girls home.”

“Kidnapping, huh?.” Daring Do paced back and forth between the thrones, rubbing her chin. “Kidnapping’s usually not the be-all end-all behind his plans. Something else is up. Who’d he take?”

Celestia furrowed her brow. “Two mares from Ponyville: Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo.”

“Never heard of—” Daring paused, a jolt running through her body. Her head snapped around. “Scootaloo?”

Cadence leaned forward. “You know her?”

“Know her, I—” Daring tossed her helmet to the floor with a clang. Blood boiled beneath her skin. Her wings shook with adrenaline. She gave the helmet a kick that sent it skidding to a stop near Andean’s paws. “Horseapples!”

Andean pinched the hat between two massive talons. He held it out to her, and she snatched it away with a huff. “This… Scoot-a-loo is close to you?”

Daring glared into her helmet. “That freak. That freak took Rainbow Dash’s little sister.”

Andean narrowed his eye at Princess Celestia. “I thought the Knight of Loyalty was an only child.”

“It’s not by blood,” Celestia said. “Just by love.”

Andean ruffled his beard. He stretched his wings halfway to their full length. “Perhaps while you seek out these two young mares, my Blitzwings can continue to pursue Ahuizotl. If you have a lead, it would be irresponsible to ignore it.”

“We don’t really have a lead.” Daring flipped the hat around and placed it deliberately on her head. She stood to her full height—fairly intimidating to a normal pony, but utterly dwarfed by the present company. “Unfortunately, unless heartless victims start popping up, we don’t really have anything to go by. I was just gonna try and study as much of the—uh—artifacts we found as I could and hope I got a link.”

“Hmm.” Andean Ursagryph turned away slightly, clicking his beak. “Regretful.”

Daring Do pursed her lips. She held her head up towards Celestia, allowing a trademark smirk to slide across her muzzle. “Alright. Got the bad guy. Got the mission. Where’s my team, and what are our leads?”

“Twilight Velvet has tracked Dr. Caballeron’s movements to Dodge Junction.” Celestia hovered the manila folder to Daring Do’s waiting forelegs. “A small team in the area is investigating. We don’t expect him to be there, but they’ll examine the site for clues and report back before the day is through.”

Cadence’s ears drooped. “In the meantime, you will most likely meet your team after tonight’s gala in Cloudsdale.”

Daring Do lowered her eyebrows. “I haven’t received an invitation.”

“You just haven’t looked in your inbox yet.” Celestia stuffed a golden ticket into Daring’s shirt pocket. “It would be my pleasure to have you attend and show A.K. Yearling’s support for the rebuilding efforts.”

Daring Do grimaced. “There’s a reason I cultivate the whole ‘reclusive author’ persona.”

“Be that as it may…” Celestia smiled. “It serves the purpose of feeding you something better than rations, generating buzz for Cloudsdale’s situation, allowing you to promote the next Daring Do book, and generally allowing me more time with my friend.”

“Alright. You’re the boss.” Daring Do examined the ticket for location and time. “Speaking of my team, who’s on it?”

Celestia and Cadence looked at each other. Cadence shrugged. “It’s…”

“Eclectic,” Celestia said.

***

Button Mash sat in the midst of the mess his house had become. Packing was problematic, since he’d never gone on a long trip before and didn’t quite know what to bring. He didn’t even really know where they were going. Should he pack for cold weather? Stifling heat? Deserts and mountains? Bogs and caverns?

He blew a raspberry and twisted the plus-shaped device strapped to his hoof. The marionette known as River moved to match, prancing across the tabletop. The determined expression carved into her wooden face matched his from mere minutes ago. Determination he still felt, though now tempered with trepidation.

“Funny thing about tempering,” he muttered into the silence. “It tends to make things tougher.”

River leaped from the table and landed square in his duffle bag. The magic glow left her joints as he detached the control from his foreleg. He stuffed it into a pocket beside a winter hat and a bottle of sunscreen. He glanced at a note taped to his refrigerator: “Meet at the train station at 3:00. Wear something nice.”

He did have something nice. The suit he’d rented for the talent show—the one he was going to wear to his date before she’d shown up too soon—still hung in his closet. None the worse for the wear, though still too short at the sleeve. Apparently, Celestia wanted as large a presence at the Cloudsdale Gala as possible. Especially now that Sweetie Belle wasn’t singing there.

Button snorted. It figured that he would get invited to a gala designed to part people from their bits. He didn’t have much to give in that regard. He tossed a bit Cloudsdale’s way, here and there. Mostly to help the refugees who still lived in Ponyville. Ponies who still didn’t feel at home. And who could blame them, knowing their city-state—one of the largest in Equestria—had been torn to pieces from beneath them?

He slid a drawer open as he shrugged the nice suit coat onto his shoulders. His Joyboy sat at the bottom of a pile of junk, charged and ready to go. He’d have to ride on a train to get to where they were going, right? There was probably a lot of travel time where he didn’t have anything else to do but worry, right? The ten-year-old game system still had some fight left in it, right?

He tossed the old Joyboy atop the River puppet, already outfitted with Barley-Oat Bros. Deluxe and The Legend of Celestia: Epona’s Awakening.

Button’s ear twitched at a knock on his front door. He hustled over, still tugging a leg through a sleeve. He glanced through the window, saw it was Rumble, and clicked the door open. “Yo. Help yourself to a cracker or something.”

“Swanky.” Rumble waltzed in. His idea of “Dress nice” appeared to be fully encapsulated by a single bowtie around his neck and little else. “How long you had this place?”

“About a month.” Button Mash slid his own bowtie in place and set about knotting it. He still had a book on tying open beside his bed, with illustrated instructions ready to show him how wrong he was. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rumble glance through his suitcase. “How’s it look? Am I ready to Dive Through Danger—trademarked, registered, incorporated.”

Rumble clicked his tongue. “I give the puppet a four out of ten.”

“I’ll take it.” Button slipped the fabric around itself and came up with something approximating a tie. Barely. “I dunno, man. What do you recommend?”

“What can I say?” Rumble shrugged his muscular shoulders. “I recommend a couple years of guard training, a black belt in carrote, and a full suit of legendary armor.”

“That’s what I figured.” Button ran a hoof through his spiked mane. The strands of hair fell as they wished. “That’s about right…”

Rumble sat at the table, leaning his bulk against the edge. The little thing nearly tipped over before he righted it. “I don’t get it, dude. I don’t think you’re ready. Not for this.”

Button gritted his teeth behind closed lips. “You can’t talk me out of—”

“I don’t want to talk you out of it.” Rumble spread his wing to flick open a cupboard. He pulled forth a cup and filled it at the sink. “I wanna understand. I wanna know why you’re going through with this. I didn’t know you and Sweetie were that serious, dude.”

“We’re…” Button Mash took the chair across from Rumble. He tugged his collar to free up the topmost button. “We’re not. I’m… I dunno. We went on one date. We had fun. Then… Then Caballeron.” He sighed and leaned his head back. “I should have been there for her. Done something.”

“Button, come on, man.” Rumble punched him in the shoulder before downing his cup in one gulp. “From what I hear, you gave us the only lead we have on Caballeron. And you fought to protect Sweets and Scoots with your life. That’s not nothing. You gave your all. You gave until something broke.”

Button tossed a salted cracker into his mouth. He munched thoughtfully until he could successfully unjumble his mind. “Yeah. But that’s the thing. Something broke. I did all I could, and it wasn’t enough.”

He flicked a cracker across the room, into the wastebasket. “I just want to… grow beyond these four walls. Do something important. Help somebody I care about. I want to—” He cupped his head in his hooves. “I want to matter.”

“Hay.” Rumble leaned close, placing a feather on Button’s shoulder. “We’re bros, right? You matter a lot—”

“Of course I do.” Button blew a breath. He tugged his duffle bag closer and zipped it closed. “I matter to you, and to Mom and Dad, and to Spike, and to a whole lot of other people. But I don’t feel it in here.” He tapped his chest. “I don’t feel it for myself. I look at myself and I see some colt who can’t walk on his own, or stand up for others, or say anything worth listening to.”

Rumble brought his eyebrows together. He refilled his cup and got another one out for Button. “So it’s not about Sweetie?”

“It’s totally about Sweetie, but—” Button peeked over his hooves. “You’re not gonna charge for psychoanalyzing me, are you?”

“A p-sychiatrist I ain’t.” Rumble grinned. “And the first half-hour’s free.”

Button Mash shook his head lightly. He gazed around the small house he owned. He could see everything from his vantage point in the kitchen-entryway. The tiny, freshly-cleaned bathroom. The stove which saw more use cooking ramen than fine meals. The wall full of marionettes of monsters and heroes.

He looked down to his duffel and saw River in his mind’s eye. “I’ve grown up around heroes, man. Ponies who shape the world they live in. Guys who stand up for what’s right, and people notice. Creatures that fight for goodness.” He rubbed his forehead and took a sip. “Me? I’ve always wanted the simple life. Put on a play. Enjoy some video games. Marry a nice girl and raise a family. But—Even though that’s what I want, it doesn’t seem like it should be enough.”

He stood up and tossed his cup in the sink. He fiddled with his tie to get it to sit right across his neck without choking him. “I put on volunteer plays, as an amateur. I’ve forked over hundreds of bits for video games and suck at most of them. And the girl?”

He cracked a grin and glanced over his shoulder. “Remember my first crush?”

“Lily Longsocks, yeah.” Rumble crossed his forelegs and gazed into distant memory. “Did anything ever happen with that?”

“She just wasn’t into it. Into me.” Button flicked his short tail as his ears lay across his head. “Yeah. You can’t really do anything about that. That was the first flop. Then a couple years later, my big brother had his incident with Scootaloo.”

Rumble rolled his eyes. “You had nothing to do with Lickety Split being a lying, cheating sack of d—”

“Didn’t I?” Button tugged his lapels, as if yanking his words into the open. “I was there, dude. I was living with my brother when he was blatantly lying to Scootaloo. Poor Alula had no idea what was going on either and I just… did nothing. And they had to find out for themselves.”

“And I repeat.” Rumble flapped into the air, nearly bumped his head on the ceiling, and settle back to the floor. “I repeat: It wasn’t your fault.”

“No. Maybe not.” Button held up a hoof. “But I did nothing to help, either.” He paced back and forth in the tiny kitchen, stepping over his bag and around Rumble. “But now fast-forward to the present day, and I think maybe Sweetie likes me. She smiles at me, dude. Smiles like the sun coming up over Canter Mountain. Her eyes sparkle like friggin’ moonbeams breaking through the clouds. Her voice gets all bubbly when she talks to me, and my tongue gets twisted. I can’t take it anymore, so I ask her out.”

He tapped Rumble on the nose. “She says yes.”

Button shut the door to his bedroom and hoisted the duffle bag onto his shoulder. “I think maybe I’ve got a chance. Maybe she’s the one. I know she’s special. I know she’s an amazing, wonderful, smart, fun person. I do everything I can to not mess it up. It still gets messed up here and there, but it’s still nice. It’s still good.”

The world greeted him with an afternoon sun. A faint summer breeze tickled his ears as he stepped onto the sidewalk. “Then comes a moment when she needs help. Badly. And I do something, dude. For the first time in my life, I do something.”

He patted his chest, where the scars from Caballeron’s blade were the deepest. “And it still doesn’t matter.”

He started down the road to the train station, with Rumble in tow. “So I’m gonna keep throwing myself into the fray until something breaks. And I hope to goodness that I’m not what breaks next time.”

“Hoping to goodness is not theologically sound.” Rumble leaned his elbow on Button’s back, slowing him down to a reasonable pace. “But know this; when the chips are down and you’ve gotta do something awesome, I’m gonna be right beside you to make sure you live through it. Got it?”

Button smiled. It was a small smile, but it was something. There was energy behind Rumble’s promise. Drive. Purpose. Friendship. “I couldn’t ask for a better, tankier friend to stand beside me. Except maybe Spike.”

***

Spike the Dragon stepped into the barn-made-laboratory. He slid protective goggles over his eyes to keep the various chemicals from dissolving something sensitive. A certain someone sat at a large desk, measuring out a mixture that glowed green. “Working on something for the rescue?”

Apple Bloom shuffled within the folds of her smock. She slid the notes aside and corked the flask. “We still got an hour until we need to be at the train station, right?”

“Yeah.” Spike propped his elbows atop the desk, careful not to come down with too much force. He didn’t want to shatter the wood. “You gonna wear that dress with the gradient?”

“You make it sound so clinical.”

“Color terms are clinical now?”

“Anything beyond primary and secondary colors is strange magic to me.” Apple Bloom matched his pose from the far side of the worktable. Her ears flopped at the sides of her head. “Wanna tell me I don’t gotta go to the gala?”

“No.” Spike showcased two rows of perfectly sharp, gem-cutting teeth. “I wanna take whatever chance I get to see you in a pretty dress.”

“So take a picture.” She booped his nose. “Take your salacious thoughts and put them to good use.” She rolled over until her back was to the table. She pushed the goggles up onto her forehead, revealing the shallow indents they’d left in her coat. “Get us to the part where we rescue the Crusaders.”

Spike stepped around the desk and took a seat beside her. She leaned against him and allowed him to slip an arm around her shoulders. She had to hunch down a little to get her head at the same height as his, but didn’t seem to mind. They sat quietly in Apple Bloom’s laboratory, breathing in each other’s’ company.

“I’m scared for them, too,” Spike whispered.

Apple Bloom stared into the middle distance, eyes wide and too dry. “We were at the changeling invasion at Cadence and Shining Armor’s wedding. They caught us and kept us quiet in the throne room. They captured us again during the comet passing, when they wanted to steal Twilight’s magic. And then again when Queen Chrysalis took over Equestria from the inside out. There was the time Tirek ate our magic. We were even there when the Storm King attacked Canterlot and locked us all in cages. We’ve seen some rough stuff.”

She licked her parched lips. “But every time, we were always together. We always had each other. We never had to be alone.” She bent down to nestle her head beneath Spike’s chin. “I know it’s stupid, but I really, really wish I was with them right now.”

“It’s not stupid, Bloom.” Spike nuzzled the top of her head, bumping his filmy ear against her bow. “You just wanna help however you can, right?”

She nodded.

“We all do.” He traced a clawtip through the dirt floor, a mental parallel to his own swirling, unordered thoughts. He picked a direction and stuck to it, moving to trace the line gently across her foreleg. “They aren’t alone, you know. They’ve got each other. They’re both capable mares.”

She placed a tiny kiss on his knuckle. “And I ain’t alone, neither. I got all of you guys. You ‘specially.”

She raised her head until she was nose-to-nose with him. “You’re a good stallion, Spike T. Dragon. Don’t forget it.”

He quirked his smile to the side. “More and more, I find myself needing to listen to the truth spoken by young mares.”

“Ain’t young anymore, bucko. We’re twenty.” A faint smile appeared at the corners of her eyes. “How’s it feel to be two decades old, by the way? Never asked you.”

“I was gonna ask you first. Geezer.” Spike chuckled. “Feels like we haven’t aged a day since we started going steady. But I’ve always been an old stallion stuck in a baby dragon’s body.”

“Naw, you’ve grown.” She patted his scaly belly, pausing as she hovered over the scar in his chest. “Not just in stature, either. You’re a wise person. More certain of things.” She huffed a breath and shook her mane out. “Bleh. I wish I had certainty about more stuff in life.”

His eyes trailed to the green flask a meter away. He ran his eyes over the notes and found them indecipherable. “What’re you working on?”

“Hogwash and hooey.” She gave him a cheeky raspberry. “Actually, I’ve been lookin’ through my books lookin’ for potions that’d be useful durin’ our adventure. Packed away some balloon juice, electrically-charged cloudstuff, and a bottle of instant piranha plants.”

“Instant what?”

“Piranha plants.” She framed an imaginary image with her hooves. “You know. Single stalk, ends in a bulb, has rows and rows of teeth, red with white polka-dots? Just toss the bottle on the ground and get a fast-growin’ tangle of weeds.”

“And… balloon juice?”

“Drink it an’ it makes you lighter than air.”

“Aha.”

She pouted lightly, her brow furrowing. “I ain’t managed to figure out how to stop floating just yet. Wears off after a couple hours, but it ain’t perfect.”

Spike swished his tail along the dusty floor of the barn. A cloud rose behind him, tickling his nose and itching at his ears. “Anything more combat-oriented? Caustic clouds? Flash-bang fondue? Elephant tranquilizer?”

She laughed and pushed herself to her four feet. Her hooves clip-clopped as she trotted over to a cart parked at the far side of the room. “Zecora had a rule when she started apprenticing me in potion brewing. ‘A potion-maker will not think, of brewing what they refuse to drink.’”

Spike propped his cheek on his palm, leaning his elbow against the tabletop. “I thought it was ‘A potion-maker will not brew, something they wouldn’t drink, too.’”

“We both agreed that the new rhyme was better.” Apple Bloom unbuttoned her smock and hung it from a coatrack. She reached over a tool vest on the cart to grab a set of saddlebags placed on the passenger’s seat. “Still a little lazy, but better.”

Spike held his arm out for her to loop a foreleg through. “Would you care to join me for a late lunch, m’lady?”

She gripped his elbow with a snigger. “I gotta quick brush my coat, first. But sure. Gonna treat me at the usual place?”

“If that be your request.” Spike opened the door. Warm summer wind hissed across his scales. “Healthy snacks at Sugarcube Corner it is, then.”

“Mm hmm!” She flicked an ear. “Did you deliver the Daring Do manuscript to your ma?”

“Care said she’d take care of it. She wanted to say hi to her friend.”

***

Care Carrot jogged through the city of Ponyville with the manuscript tied to her back. Strong legs carried her through the marketplace, past stalls selling fruit, vegetables, knickknacks, and any other commodity one could wish for. A red plaid shirt kept the sun’s rays off of her back, while a ponytail kept her mane off her neck, allowing cool air to flow over it as she ran.

The gentle smallness of a village collided with the bustle of a burgeoning city. Some of the stalls were one-pony shows, while others carried the logo of some large chain or another. Some ponies trotted about with pearls around their necks and their noses in the air; meanwhile, a good few could be seen carefully bean-counting their bits, buying the bare minimum. By and large, though, the most prevalent was the middle-class that had taken root in Ponyville. Ponies who had traveled from Manehattan and Fillydelphia to start a new life for themselves. Crystal Ponies visiting from the north, gaining a taste of the modern day. Pegasi who had tumbled from the ruins of Cloudsdale and landed wherever there was space to park a cloudhouse.

There, rising from the ground before her, was the focal-point of Ponyville: Twilight Sparkle’s Castle. It grew like a tree from the soil, its crystalline spires like branches reaching for the heavens. It caught the sunlight, but rather than a harsh glare, there was a warm glow signifying security, peace, and friendship. It caught her breath and held it tight.

A wash of memories flooded in from her time spent living there. Training sessions with Daring Do and Blankety Blank. Stories shared with Twilight Velvet and Time Turner. Bread broken with the knights who had become her family.

Harsher memories shared space with the bright days. Bitter battles with an ancient hero gone mad. Innocence fractured by a snap decision. Friends lost in a sacrifice of love. Broken bones and crushed hearts uniting in a short but bloody war.

But through it all, friendship is what pulled them through. Special friendships never to be forgotten.

She allowed one last image to come to mind: Spike the Dragon, standing between her and a loaded volleygun, taking a shot to the chest and still coming. Refusing to let her down. Refusing to see anyone hurt.

She smiled and trotted up the front steps. The two guards, a crystal stallion named Coldstone and a unicorn mare named Snow Cap, opened the large double-doors to allow her entrance. She nearly tripped over a large scrape-mark in the crystal floor, left behind by some large beast long since departed.

“Lady Carrot,” Coldstone said, “it does the heart good to see you alive and well. I take it the Badlands were as horrible as they say?”

“The Badlands were pretty bad, gotta admit.” Care shrugged, carrying herself more gently so that she didn’t lose the manuscript. “But things always go easier with a few friends by your side. Had a run-in with some slavers before we managed to find Chrysalis’ corpse. Mole-people, diamond dogs, the usual bunch.”

Snow Cap shook her head. “Give me the Frozen North and sub-zero temperatures before I’d ever venture south of Equestria. Stay cool, Captain.”

“Stay cool, guys.” Care smirked as she stepped through the doors and into the castle’s front hall. It opened up into a massive room, with a ceiling high enough to comfortably fit a full-grown dragon. The windows were made not from stained glass, but grown from crystal. They lay at regular intervals on the wall, allowing the sunlight in, but coloring it to a fantastical degree. The polished floor reflected warmth and magic that bounded across the entire structure.

Three young ponies and two griffon chicks barreled through the hall, outrunning the royal guardspony trying to corral them. Care stepped to the side and allowed the royal children a clean shot to the exit. She gave Commander Skyhook a friendly smile and wished him good luck. He bobbed his head briefly before disappearing into the city of Ponyville in hot pursuit.

A quick stroll took her to the castle’s central room. Seven thrones sat around a magical table, from which sprouted images from around Equestria and beyond. Cloud cities hovered above mountains, trees swayed across forests, and buildings great and small dotted the settled areas.

On the far side of the table stood Twilight Velvet, Knight of Counsel. She looked up from her manila folder as Captain Care approached. “Care! It’s good to see you again!”

“Lady Velvet.” Care lit her horn with a brilliant pink glow and hovered the manuscript towards Velvet. “I bring regards from A.K. Yearling.”

“Wha—?” Twilight Velvet exchanged Care’s pink magic for her own. “Did she send all this through Spike?”

“I think so.” Care sat herself down in what she supposed was Rainbow Dash’s throne, judging from the lightning bolt on the back. “I was on my walk at the time, but I do remember hearing a belch from across town.”

“I swear, Daring, one of these days we’ve gotta have a long talk.” Velvet glanced at the cover of the manuscript. “Alright. Thanks, Care. I’ll get this thing edited and we can get another hit Daring Do novel on the shelves.”

Care crossed her forelegs. “And the world rejoiced.”

“And complained.” Velvet waved the pages at Care. “And they’d complain a lot more if I hadn’t convinced Daring to not make it about the Cloudsdale Incident.”

Care grimaced. “What is it about, then?”

“She basically butchered the story to focus solely around her, Time, and their trip into Canter Mountain’s Crystal Mines.” Velvet flipped through a few pages, scanning their contents. She hummed a bit at certain parts, but soon brought her attention back to Care. “She wouldn’t budge on making Time a main character. I’ll admit it still worries me.”

Care looped her green, braided ponytail over her shoulder. “The Daring Do books have always been pretty autobiographical, though, haven’t they?”

“Yes, but she’s been absolutely pouring her heart into this.” Velvet sighed and shoved it as much as she could into her saddlebags. “In a way I haven’t really seen since her first novel.”

Care leaned her elbow against the armrest. “Confession is good for the soul.”

“So our beloved Yearling tells me.” Twilight Velvet tossed her mane and trotted closer. “But enough about that. You’ve picked up a few more stragglers, I hear.”

“Friends of Spike.” Care nodded. “He’s vouched for all of them being capable ponies, and all are ready and willing to help Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo in any way they can.” She flicked an ear down. “Are you coming with us?”

“I wish.” Velvet took Applejack’s throne with a weighty huff. “You’re the field leader on this mission. You’ll have to make due with Daring Do and Blankety Blank and whatever other rabble the bunch of you mush together.” She chuckled deep in her belly. “I’ll be stuck here coordinating the investigation. You gain a strong appreciation for order when you’re in charge of a group of ponies used to doing things independently.”

Velvet narrowed her eyes. “I had a question; what do you know about Merry Mare?”

“Who?”

“The former mayor of Ponyville.”

“Oh.” Care scratched her forehead. “Not a whole lot. She was only mayor for a couple of years while I was Princess Celestia’s guard. She always enjoyed Miss Mare’s company, and the people of Ponyville respect her. Or they did, until the roads got bad.”

“That’s about what I know.” Velvet chewed her lower lip. “Keep your ear to the ground for me, okay? There’s something funny going on in Ponyville, and I’ve got a few signs that point her way.”

Care bobbed her head. “Will do.”

Velvet tapped the magical map with her hoof. The view zoomed in on Dodge Junction, where two cutie mark symbols hovered above the train station. “Presently, though, we’ve got a couple of agents closing in on a warehouse in Dodge Junction, said to be the last known location of one Poni Caballeron. We think he may have left some sort of clue about just what the hay is going on. We hope so, anyway.”

“And once we know that,” Care said, leaning forward, “Daring and I can follow the clues to where he’s keeping the two victims.”

“Bingo.” Velvet moved a hoof over the edge of the table, and the map swung around to present a new perspective. The cutie marks came into focus: A swirl of magic trailing from a star, and a shimmering wand over a flash of moonlight. “They’d better find something good, or this investigation is gonna start spinning its wheels real fast.”

Care Carrot rifled through her memory, but couldn’t find a match between the symbols and ponies she knew. “Are they knights?”

“One is a knight, yes.” Velvet slowly brought her hoof to her temple to give it a long, deep massage. “The other one, though…”

***

The Great and Powerful Trixie Lulamoon, hero of Equestria, world-renowned stage magician, heartthrob of thousands, stepped off the train platform and into the muggy, dust-choked air. The edges of her mane split one by one, as her tail curled of its own accord. She had left her magician’s cloak and hat in her house-cart, leaving her to face the elements bare. “The G and P Trixie has little to say of Dodge Junction.”

Starlight Glimmer stepped out from behind her, breathing deep of the fresh air after several hours locked in a train. Finding the air slightly less fresh than she expected, she coughed politely into her hoof. The coughs soon turned violent.

“There, there, my faithful assistant,” Trixie said, patting the other mare lightly on the flank. “Just let it all out.”

Starlight gagged. “Why does the entire town smell like old booze?”

A passing conductor tipped his hat to her. “Ma’am. There was a brawl at the saloon last night. Ended with what woulda been a food-fight if they’d been serving food instead of whiskey. Lotta shattered glasses, lotta shattered skulls. Everybody’s been tryin’ ta forget the whole thing. Ended up chasin’ some strange pegasus outta town on account of causing the whole shebang.”

“Aha!” Trixie Lulamoon strode proudly forth, accidently stepping in a mud puddle. She glanced down at her browned hoof, suppressed a scowl, and turned back to the stallion. “We are, in fact, in the business of tracking down a strange—”

Starlight Glimmer lifted a hoof to Trixie’s chin, halting its waggle in a single practiced motion. “Would you mind directing us to warehouse fifty-one, sir? We have something to pick up there.”

“We’ve got a few warehouses on the east side of town.” The old conductor scratched beneath his hat, ruffling his meager mane. “Never bothered memorizing the layout, so can’t tell ya which is which.”

“We’ve got pretty good luck in that regard.” Starlight grinned at Trixie, hiding fire behind her eyes. “We’ll take a quick walk over there and let you continue with your business.”

The conductor shrugged and walked away. “My business is trains, and we ain’t leaving for another hour.”

“Right! Good!” Starlight waved halfheartedly. “Thanks for your help.”

Trixie pouted. “I was just about to interrogate him for information! It sounds like he was talking about—”

“Rhombus, I know.” Starlight looped her foreleg around Trixie’s neck and yanked her ear close to her mouth. “But the less people know that we’re looking for you-know-who, the less chance they’ll be able to get outta Dodge before we find them.”

“Aha! Sneaky.” Trixie Lulamoon placed a hoof over her heart. She closed her eyes with a wide smile. “I assure you, Trixie is the most duplicitous and secretive unicorn you’ll ever meet. When she’s not being the most open and genuine one, of course.”

Starlight sniggered. “Of course.” Starlight Glimmer crossed her eyes to look at her horn. She sent a soft flare of magic tracing along its length. “I don’t detect anybody watching us. Let’s move quickly. Twilight Velvet’s hoping we report back before the afternoon’s over.”

“Ah, Twilight Velvet. Of the Canterlot Sparkle family. My favorite.” Trixie rolled her eyes and followed Starlight down the dusty road, through the main street of the bustling town. The saloon’s doors were boarded up and painted with a crudely-fashioned “closed for repairs.” A great deal of the stallions and mares of the town either sat beneath the porches nursing their heads, or went about their business with dour expressions abounding.

Trixie lowered her voice. “When these people go off the rails, they don’t mess around.”

“Shut up, Trixie.” Starlight grinned at a stallion as he gave her a particularly venomous glare. “If you get us booted from town—”

“Relaaaax, Starlight.” Trixie waved a limp hoof. Mud flicked across the street indiscriminately as a result. “Trixie’s got this. I see the line, and I shall not cross it.” She bumped her shoulder against Starlight and giggled. “Just you see. After this mission, Celestia will have to make me a Knight of Harmony. Can you just see it?” She leaned heavily on Starlight and pointed a hoof into the ether. “Trixie Lulamoon, Knight of Magic.”

Starlight rolled her eyes. “I’m already the Knight of Magic.”

Trixie pressed her cheek against Starlight’s and hugged her head close. “Perhaps Trixie shall be a co-knight of magic! The Lady of Illusions, the Mage of Magicality!”

A bubble of magic completely encased Trixie. Starlight dragged her several meters away and raised a single, interrogative eyebrow.

Trixie swallowed. “I’ll be quiet.”

“You bet you will.” Starlight stepped around a porch and found several barn-like buildings built along the edge of town. “Because we’ve just found out spot.”

The warehouses stood side-by-side, with small addresses etched beside the doors. Most looked like they were fairly well-kept, but others were run down and disused. Starlight counted down in her head. Fourty-eight, fourty-nine, fifty… There it was. The last known location of Poni Caballeron.

She glanced at Trixie, whose mirth had melted away in an instant. The blue-coated unicorn breathed shallow and hesitantly. Her eyebrows came together on her forehead.

Starlight placed a hoof on her shoulder. “You ready?”

“Yes.” Trixie lowered her head and marched doggedly towards the warehouse. “Trixie was born for this moment.”

The barn was locked with an expensive padlock, sealed against magic. Starlight went to work, studying its depths, its inner workings, to find a way to release it. Trixie examined the grounds around the building, searching for hidden boobytraps and the like. The barn was made from good wood, strong and weathered, painted fairly regularly to keep it from standing out among the other warehouses. Enchantments surrounded the structure, mostly standard-issue wards to prevent ponies from prying into others’ private business. Hardly malevolent, but nonetheless disconcerting to an investigator.

The tumblers in the lock released, and it fell to the ground. Starlight gave one last glance around, then pulled the door open with a sparkle of magic. Trixie came alongside her as they walked into the warehouse together.

A spell materialized on the tip of Trixie’s horn and floated upward, casting light on the interior. It was mostly dusty boxes with their lids nailed shut, but a few were open, displaying treasures from antiquity. Masks from Giraffrica, gold coins from Lightning Gale, griffon swords, all completely priceless, ready to be sold to the highest bidder.

“Holy horseapples,” Trixie hissed. “Just one box of this stuff and I’d never have to work another day in my life.”

Starlight reached out with her magic, sensing the trinkets. So much magic flowed from them that it was nearly impossible to differentiate one spell from another. “Search carefully. I can’t tell if any of this stuff is gonna react to us, so use your better judgement.”

“Trixie always does,” Trixie whispered. She licked dry lips as her teeth chattered. “Um. Perhaps I can keep a little bit of this as… a reward, or perhaps a finder’s fee—?”

“No.” Starlight moved to a box and studied it until she was satisfied it wouldn’t kill her. She removed the nails one by one until the lid could swing off. Beneath padding and blankets, she found a strange, glowing amulet with a green gem at the center.

Trixie looked over Starlight’s shoulder and shuddered. She skittered to the far side of the room to glance at the swords.

Starlight flicked her bangs back. “Something wrong?”

“Déjà vu.” Trixie shook her head and flicked her tail dismissively. “Pay it no mind. I have issues with amulets.”

Starlight smirked and went back to the device. It was a fairly weak amulet, used to generate a forcefield around the user. Not much good for stopping modern weapons, but it could deflect a spearhead in a pinch. “I don’t think this one’s the secret to enslaving a town, Trixie.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Trixie laughed, releasing a good bit of tension, but not nearly all of it. “Tell me, oh wise one, which of these items would be most effective in said conquest?”

“Not much of use here for…” Starlight halted her words at the same time as her hooves. There, near the back of the warehouse, a cup of some sort could be seen sitting half-in, half-out of a shallow box. Decorative markings traced the clay brim, while the inside seemed to be pure, pored gold. On the stem was embedded a red gemstone, carved in a lightning-bolt patter reminiscent of the classic symbol for the Element of Loyalty. “Well, that one’ll do.”

“Hmm?” Trixie set a glowing sword back into place. A dark voice whispered black magic from the shadows until Trixie shut it up with a flash from her overhead light. “Quiet you; my friend is talking.”

The sword whimpered and acquiesced.

“This cup,” Starlight said, approaching the box. A quick search brought her attention to the surrounding boxes, walls, ceiling, floorboards, anything that could hide a trap. Finding nothing of note, she greedily grasped the cup in her magical grip. “This thing! It’s really here! I never thought I’d find it in a million years!”

Trixie stared nonplussed. “A cup. How exciting.”

“I know, right?” Starlight giggled and rubbed the side of the cup against her fuzzy cheek. “Oh this is wonderful! One of the true lost treasures of the First Age! Trixie, do you know what this is?”

Trixie lowered her eyebrows. “Fenrir’s Foghorn?”

“It’s the Griffon’s Goblet! A device forged by the first griffon king, Aster of the Storm!” Starlight turned it towards Trixie, all but shoving it in her face. “Look, look inside! The gold is designed to channel the magic into the gemstone, which connects whatever you put into it and whoever’s holding it at the cellular level! If it’s filled with storm clouds made from a special mineral-blend water found in a hidden mountain in Felaccia, it allows the user to controls storms!”

“How… deviously simple.” Trixie lowered the cup from her snout slowly and carefully. “How could it ever have fallen out of use?”

“Oh ha, ha.” Starlight held the cup up to the light to admire it more closely. “It’s not important so much in its use as it is a look into history! One of the first really complex magical devices known to sapience! It’s been years since we knew where this was! Why, the last time I heard this mentioned was in D—” Starlight Glimmer stared off into space, her jaw going limp for a brief instant. “Daring Do and the Griffon’s Goblet. Where Ahuizotl stole it, but was unable to use it due to the ritual being incomplete.”

“Ahuizotl?” Trixie sniggered. “From the Daring Do books? Look, I liked the stories when I was a filly, but—”

“Shut up, Trixie.” Starlight turned the goblet over and over, seeking oddities, aberrations, or defects. Finding none, she lowered it back into the box. “But why would he part with such a valuable weapon, even if he couldn’t activate it? There has to be something else. Did Caballeron steal it?”

Trixie sent an extra pulse of magic into her illumination spell to keep it going. Magic hummed overhead, like bees buzzing around a hive. “Perhaps the Power Ponies stole it from him?”

“I’m serious, Trixie.” Starlight ran her hooves through her mane. She dug through the box, moving the packaging materials aside. “This has to be significant. It’s the only thing in here that’s worth anything to a creature like Ahuizotl. Why would Caballeron leave something like this in Dodge Junction of all places? Something just isn’t right.”

“It sounds like Rhombus was kicked out of town in a hurry.” Trixie’s ears flicked as the buzzing grew louder. “Maybe they left it behind and hope to come back for it?”

“Possibly, but…” Starlight reached the bottom of the box. Scratched into the wood with crude letters was a message. Starlight read aloud, trying to sound out the haphazard script. “Pay—payment in full for— the sig—singer. Payment in full for the singer.”

Trixie’s eyes widened. “The singer! Sweetie Belle! Caballeron kidnapped them to give them to—”

The buzzing reached a piercing whine. Starlight and Trixie looked up simultaneously to see what was wrong with her spell. The spell was fine; what was not fine lay behind it.

Nailed to the ceiling at regular intervals, connected by copper wire, were several cylindrical magical syphons. Syphons were used to pull magic from the air to power devices too large for a pony to activate alone. These syphons were not connected to a machine, and they were already overtaxed due to the ambient magic in the warehouse. Trixie and Starlight’s spells put them over the edge.

The normally charcoal-gray objects glowed brilliant red, verging on white. The whine reached its zenith.

Trixie let out a sound somewhere between a snort and a gasp. “Oh, Rut!”

Fire erupted all around. It consumed the boxes, melted the artifacts, and blew the warehouse off its foundations. Flaming wood collapsed in a blazing pile of ash and soot as priceless magical devices shattered, adding to the magical conflagration. Light and darkness roared, and then all were silenced.

A magic shield stood tall within the center of the collapsed warehouse. The blue field faded away, revealing Starlight Glimmer and Trixie Lulamoon, shaken but unharmed. Trixie lay on the ground and peered between the hooves protecting her face. “Are we dead?”

Starlight teetered on unsteady hooves. “Not… yet…” She looked down at the Griffon’s Goblet, still gripped by the power of her horn. The magic flickered and let the cup plop to the ground. She looked around and found herself the center of attention. Dozens of townspeople gathered around, their jaws agape at the explosion and the subsequent reveal of the survivors. She gave them a smile and a weak wave.

Trixie got slowly to her feet. Black dust covered her back and tail, and adrenaline flowed unchecked through her veins. “P-p-p-perhaps we need a drink?”

“Saloon’s still closed,” Starlight muttered, the explosion ringing in her ears. The bystanders neither advanced nor retreated, so she continued to greet them with a friendly wave of the hoof. “No booze. Not nearly enough booze.”

Trixie smiled at her. It was meant to be friendly, but her frayed nerves had the effect of stretching her mouth just a little too wide, and turning her eyes just the slightest shade of crazy. “I have a stash for long road trips.”

“That,” Starlight said, stuffing the goblet into her saddlebags, “is why you’re my best friend.”

The Crossroads of Life

Mayor Gaston the Griffon raced across the ballroom, his cravat hanging loose from his neck, and his stylish poufy sleeves wafting in the wind. He walked down the length of the buffet table, rapping his talons across the surface as he went. The hot foods were safe in their foil containers, the cold foods were chilling on ice, and the punch was ready to go. Across the hall, atop the small stage, a quartet of ponies were setting up their instruments. Piano, cello, harp… tuba? Whatever the brass instrument was. Nothing at the level Sweetie Belle would have been, but—

Applejack snorted as she watched Gaston blunder about the room, his eyes wide and his breath short. She reached a hoof out and snagged the tip of his wing. “What’s got you in such a hustle? Everythin’ set up right.”

“We were going to have Sweetie Belle here.” Gaston turned to her with a look of horror. “She was going to be the linchpin, the certain something special to entice the crowds to act on their generosity. Now, not only do I not have the singer, I just learned that Andean Ursagryph and Queen Chrysalis the Second are going to attend! The most famous world leader besides Celestia and the new ruler of the most famous monsters in the world! I was not prepared for any of this!”

Applejack quirked her mouth to the side. “So your gold medal wasn’t in party plannin’, huh?”

Gaston squawked as several servers strode past, pushing the model of Cloudsdale he’d commissioned. It was as elegant as it was simple, swirling clouds and drizzling rainbows. Each district, each shopping center, each stretch of homes was laid out in minimal detail yet exact location. He glanced at the model and, for the briefest of instances, hope entered his eyes. That hope was banished just as quickly when a pony at the entrance of the ballroom hollered at the top of their lungs.

“H’announcing: Prince Blueblood, Princess Fleur de Lis, and Princess Jadeite Jasmine!”

Prince Blueblood and his wife walked hoof-in-hoof, their daughter riding atop her father’s back. Blueblood waved to the griffon. “Ahoy, Gaston! The missus and I decided to arrive fashionably early. How goes the preparations?”

“Let us not mince words, husband,” Fleur said, her words heavy with a flowery air granted by her Fancy accent. “We wish to leave before the changelings arrive.”

Applejack tilted her hat back. “Blue, Fleur. Good tah see yah in good health.”

Fleur smiled bright. “Lady Applejack, it is always a pleasure.” She greeted Applejack with a kiss on each cheek. “How is ze family back home?”

“Oh, Apple Bloom’s gettin’ into her usual trouble. Big Mac and Cheerilee have their hooves full with Cinnamon.” Applejack shrugged, tilting one ear down. “Grandpere Pear is holdin’ on to life as firm as he can. Says he’s squeezin’ out every last drop.”

“Sounds just like him.” Fleur covered her giggle with a demure hoof. “Tell him ze family in Baltimare wish him well.”

“First words outta my mouth next time I see him.”

“Cuss!”

All eyes turned to the small filly on Blueblood’s back. The father tried to shush her, but she shouted all the louder. “Cuss!”

“Jade.” Fleur picked the filly off of Blueblood’s back and cradled her close to the chest. “We should be polite when speaking to Applejack and Gaston. Can you say a nice word?”

Blueblood muttered darkly to Gaston. “I swear, if she says ‘rut,’ I’m going to have a heart attack.”

“Applesauce!” Jade reached out to cup Applejack’s cheeks with her hooves. “Applesauce!”

Fleur winked. “Her favorite food, ironically enough.”

Applejack felt her heart melt into a sweet buttery mess. She bumped her nose against Jade’s and rubbed back and forth. “Ain’t you just the sugariest little blossom I ever did meet?”

Gaston cleared his throat. “As much as I’d love to stay and catch up, Blueblood, I’ve got a lot of work to get through.”

Blueblood tilted his head, pressing his lips together. “Indeed? I thought the gala was just about to start.”

“It is, yes, but there’ve been a lot of…” Gaston cringed from his talons to his wingtips. “Recent revelations and additions and I’m completely at a loss for a… I dunno… anything.”

Fleur turned to him with her brow furrowed. “Is there anything we can help with?”

Gaston lifted his talons to the sky. “Not unless you can hire a popular singer on the cheap, or produce some sort of buffet that caters to griffon and-or changeling diets.”

“Aw, cool your jets, Gaston.” Applejack reached up to give Gaston’s shoulder a friendly smack. “It ain’t all bad. You still got the best musicians in the area, and the best eats Canterlot can supply. You got a huge guest list, dozens of celebrities included. And it’s all in the name of one of the best darn causes we have available in Equestria; the restoration of Cloudsdale!”

She smirked and leaned on one pair of legs. “Far as I’m concerned, you can’t lose.”

“Lady Applejack is correct, old bean.” Blueblood’s horn lit up to snag a tiny shrimp from a passing server’s plate. He slipped the morsel into his mouth and bit down with a relishing chuckle. “Cloudsdale is in good hands… hooves… talons… etcetera.”

Applejack walked into the center of the ballroom and took in the atmosphere. There were two levels of the ballroom. The one on the ground level contained the dance floor, doorways, and the music stage. The second level circled around the cylindrical room as an open balcony, connected by four equally spaced staircases. Tables and chairs sat ready for diners, drinkers, and gossipers. Beside the entryway, across from the herald, lay a small table with pledge cards awaiting the guests.

Magilights of blue, red, green, gold, and silver illuminated the dance floor. The sun set behind glistening curtains of clouds to the west. The east held the heavenly dew of starlight. The quartet tuned their instruments carefully and precisely, a simple melody forming as their scales mingled.

She watched Gaston’s muscles unknot one by one, his wings carrying him a few feet in the air, a relief-filled breath exiting his lungs.

“H’announcing: King Andean Ursagryph of Felaccia!”

Gaston plummeted from the sky and landed with stiff legs. His wings folded tight against his back as he trotted towards the entrance of the ballroom. He tugged at his collar with a shivering claw. “Y-your G-Grace. It is a-an honor to finally meet you.”

Applejack caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Fleur de Lis tucked Jadeite close to her chest and shrunk from the entryway, her eyes wide. Applejack figured it must’ve been her first time seeing the griffon king up close. She couldn’t really blame her for the reaction.

Blueblood straightened himself up and rested a hoof across his wife’s back. He shot her a reassuring smile, one that didn’t quite match the twitch in his ears.

Andean Ursagryph squeezed through the double-doorway, his wings opening once they’d passed the door frame. The scabbard of his enormous broadsword scraped against the floor as his hindquarters slid in. Five griffon soldiers followed him in, then quickly spread throughout the room, covering every possible corner. Andean ran a talon through his beard of black and white feathers. “Lord Mayor Gaston. It is an honor to once again assist Cloudsdale in its time of need.”

“Yes.” Gaston drummed his clawtips on the floor for lack of anything better to do. “I heard you did a great thing for us, flying to our defense during the Incident.”

“Incident?” Andean wrinkled his forehead. “It was a battle, Lord Mayor. To call it any less is disingenuous.”

Having no ready response, Gaston merely nodded.

“Your name suggests that you are a native of Griffonstone, correct?” Andean reached out with a long foreleg to grab an hors d’oeuvre tray from a hapless servant. “The, ah, Equestrian protectorate?”

“Griffonstone prefers to think of itself as an independent state, but…” Gaston laughed humorlessly and shrugged. “It didn’t take much to emigrate.”

“Hmm.” Andean nibbled away at the morsels on his plate A kebab’s worth of various meats and veggies disappeared in a single gulp. “No government, no standing army, no respect for its history… I say you did well to pursue politics in Equestria, as milquetoast as they are.”

Gaston’s feathers along his neck bristled as his tail slid its way between his hind legs. “I would never badmouth my old home, of course. It’s sti—”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” Andean passed the tray to another young servant and retrieved a second tray, this one piled high with desserts. “That’s why the voters love you so much.”

His beak snapped down on a pastry. “I admit I’m in the mood to reminisce a bit. Where were you during the Battle of Cloudsdale, a year and a half ago?”

Gaston’s ears fell. His beak moved wordlessly, helplessly. “The Capitol Building was the second target to be hit. Once I dug my way out of the wreckage, I spend the next three days searching for what was left of my staff.”

Applejack clomped up beside Gaston and tipped her hat to the griffon king. “Andean, Your Grace. Been a while, ain’t it?”

Gaston mouthed a silent “Thank you.”

“Indeed, Lord Mayor Applejack.” Andean smiled lightly. He offered her a dessert from the tray, and of course she selected an apple fritter. “Though we do keep running into each other at these functions. Perhaps it’s fate.”

“Fate’s got a funny way of goin’ about its business.” Applejack twirled her fritter, indicating those who had already arrived to the gala. “I was just talkin’ with the folks about how nice it’ll be to have Cloudsdale back on its feet, so to speak. Finally wipe away the last little stain Hurricane left behind. Send the refugees home. That sorta stuff. You got cloud cities back in Felaccia?”

“I’m afraid not.” Andean glanced to Gaston, preventing the mayor from sneaking away undetected. “Griffons never had much of a knack for weather manipulation. We make our homes among the cliffs of the coast, or on the floating mountains of Roc.”

“H’announcing: High Princess Luna of Equestria!”

Andean glanced over his shoulder. “I shall leave you to your guests, Mayor Gaston. I suspect Celestia invited me more as a conversation piece than as a guest.”

As Gaston turned to greet Luna, Andean stopped him with a clawtip. “Lord Mayor,” Andean said, “keep up the good fight.”

“I will, Your Grace.” Gaston bobbed his head before running for all he was worth.

“I suspect there’s more to him than his bluster.” Andean extended a wing over Applejack’s head. “I see it in the company he keeps.”

“He and I get along fine.” Applejack quirked her mouth up as she savored her fritter. “Him and Fancy Pants are the mayors I’m least likely to wanna punch in the mouth.”

Fleur raised her head at Blueblood’s approach. “The donation is prepared, husband?”

“Indubitably.” He leveled his blue bowtie with a glimmer of magic. He kissed his wife on the cheek and his daughter on the forehead. “And since Luna’s arrived, I suspect the changelings will not be far behind.”

“Yes.” Fleur sent a wary look to the entryway which, to her relief, was still solely occupied by Luna. “The less time spent thinking about my night in their… their would-be coffins, the better.”

Applejack gave her a light hug. “Don’t fret too much, y’all. I seen the changelings change once. I’ll bet they can change again.”

“Indeed.” Blueblood huffed lightly, doing his best to ignore the massive griffon behind Applejack. “And subsequently change right back.”

Applejack watched the Blueblood family leave through the doorway. They passed a quick farewell to Luna, then vanished. Applejack adjusted her hat to sit more comfortably between her ears. “What’s your take on the changelings, Andean? Ain’t heard you weigh in.”

Andean Ursagryph sat near the edge of the ballroom, between two large pillars that nearly hid him from view. He cradled the dessert tray, selecting the items most interesting to him. “I believe they could be powerful allies. Or dangerous enemies. Much like the griffons themselves. Or the ponies, for that matter.”

He rested his talon on the pommel stone of his blade; a ruby-red gem, brimming with magical power. “It is a situation to be handled with extreme caution. The utmost care. I’m surprised they returned at all after the Changeling Civil War between Chrysalis and Thorax.”

Applejack finished the last of her fritter and picked a new treat from the plate, this one some sort of chocolate mousse. “Maybe this is our chance to find out what happened to Thorax.”

“Unlikely, as I believe these changelings are the remnants of Chrysalis the Tyrant’s new brood.” Andean checked the position of his Blitzwings, one of whom had made their way to the upper level. “Though the war ended with Chrysalis’ death, I suspect bad blood remains between the two shattered halves of the whole.”

“I hear you there.” Applejack tipped her hat to a new arrival; one of Rarity’s friends if she remembered correctly. “But I’ve also seen the irreconcilable reconciled. Lots of times.”

Andean smiled lightly. He dropped a few chocolate-covered blueberries into his beak and snapped it shut. “I am forced to agree, as there are a great deal more bright spots in this life than I had at first imagined. The unity between the ponies and the griffons has become… quite dear to me. I constantly surprise myself with how much we can rely on each other these days.”

Applejack eyed the griffon king. He sat at ease, despite his apparent lack of cohesion with the room’s decor, atmosphere, and other guests. He regarded Luna with a solemn nod, and was then happy to return his full attention to his plate.

She caught sight of Rainbow Dash reaching the entrance. She stood up and tipped her hat to Andean. “Well, it’s been a right pleasure speaking with you, Your Grace. Hope we can talk again later.”

“I imagine we will.” Andean eased his wings against his back and ran a talon through his white-black speckled beard. “Lord Mayor Applejack, kroota kiicha.”

“Crooda kitcha yourself.”

Applejack trotted towards the front doors, a laugh bubbling up from her chest. Rainbow Dash was dressed up nice as could be, same as Applejack, but there was still a solid touch of sass in her split dress, her wild manestyle, and her overall bull-headed demeanor. She clomped past the herald without so much as a how-do-you-do and grasped forelegs with her friend. “Rainbow Dash, you don’t look a day over ninety-nine!”

“Applejack, you finally got the straw out of your hair!” With their right forelegs still gripped, they swung their other legs around each other’s necks, completing the strong embrace. She leaned her mouth close to Applejack’s ear. “B’sides, ixnay on the irthday-bay. Keeping things on the down-low. Folks are here for Cloudsdale, not me.”

“I’ll keep a cork in it.” Applejack released Dash and walked alongside her, ignoring the herald’s belated announcement.

“H’announcing: Captain Rainbow Dash of the Wonderbolts!”

“Booyah,” Rainbow Dash whispered.

Applejack nudged her friend hard in the shoulder. “So what’re you up to now? Twenty-six?”

“Twenty-seven, actually. Prime of my life.” Rainbow hopped a few inches off the ground to hover. She surveyed the buffet table, but took a detour when she noticed some off-season cider amongst the drinks. “Much younger than you, ya geezer.”

“I ain’t yet thirty, ya dork.” Applejack made a face as Rainbow poured herself a drink. “Y’all are gonna give yourself a bellyache with that frozen concentrate garbage.”

“I’m a desperate mare, Applejack.” Rainbow Dash threw the glass back and let out a satisfied sigh. “Authentic or imitation, it’s all apples.”

“It ain’t so and you know it.”

Rainbow Dash answered with a trademark devil-may-care grin. She swooped to the center of the dance floor, spinning to take in the ballroom. She turned her eyes upward, a touch of low tones entering her voice. “I half expect Fluttershy to rampage through here with a horde of terrified critters.”

“Ha. Twelve years since the so-called best night ever.” Applejack stood beside her, her ears twitching in time with the soft song the quartet was playing. Memories flooded in from years gone by, disasters and triumphs both. The sun set fully beyond the horizon, allowing the overhead lamps to have full control over the mood. “So many things have changed.”

“Yeah.” Rainbow Dash landed with a thump and wrapped a wing around Applejack’s shoulders. She pointed to the entrance as a certain fabulously familiar unicorn mare entered. “But just as many things have stayed the same.”

“H’announcing: Lady Rarity!”

Rarity waved a hoof frantically, her eyes lighting up like her trademark gemstones. “Girls! Hello there! It’s so good to see you again!”

Applejack leveled her eyebrows. The glow was there, genuine as always. Rarity never sparkled without meaning to. But beneath the surface, Applejack could feel it; a billowing black hole of sadness at the corners of her eyes. A tightness in her voice. She knew about Sweetie Belle. Good. It saved Applejack the trouble of explaining—

Her breath stopped short. Her head twisted Rainbow Dash’s way. The pegasus slurped up another glass of cut-rate cider, not a care in the world. Had anybody told her about the kidnapping? She’d been spending a lot of time in Cloudsdale, so there wasn’t much chance to visit.

Rarity joined them, her mane coiffed just so and her eyelashes exactly this long and her makeup applied over the course of several hours. “Oh, but I do enjoy seeing friendly faces again. After all that’s happened the past few days, I was afraid I wouldn’t be—” She coughed, her smile faltering, her ears drooping. She perked up in an instant, otherwise undeterred. “—able to attend.”

“Really?” Rainbow Dash elevated to a comfortable altitude for her. “What gives? Trouble with the boutique?”

Applejack sprung into action, placing a hoof on Rarity’s shoulder before her aghast expression could register in Rainbow Dash’s mind. “I think the three of us should save the heavy stuff for supper afterwards. Wanna head to a nice quiet restaurant? My treat?”

“Yeah, sure, I’m free.” Rainbow Dash snagged a cookie off of a passing trolley and ate it in a single bite. “Dunno how much I’m gonna be eating after this smorgasbord, but I’m up for chit-chat and that. Heh.”

“Yeah.” Applejack gave Rarity a forceful glare. “And there we can talk about all the drama in our lives and let the gala go smooth-like. Right?”

Rarity allowed her smoldering grimace to die off, replacing it with neutral bemusement. “Your social prowess astounds me, Applejack. Very well, I shall renege my rant for the sake of the gala.”

Rainbow Dash’s ears drooped as she worried her lower lip. “It’s that bad, huh?”

“Don’t even worry about it,” Applejack said, giving Rainbow’s and Rarity’s hooves a squeeze. “We got the best ponies available on the case. Trust me.”

***

“H’announcing: A.K. Yearling, Author of Daring Do!”

Daring Do rolled her eyes as the gathered crowd of ponies and various other rich creatures looked her way. A blue-coated pegasus near the back of the room hopped up and waved her forelegs like crazy. Daring smirked at the sight. “Rainbow Dash and her enthusiasm. Gotta love it.”

She walked in, flanked by Blankety Blank to the left and Martial Paw to the right. Blank’s white hair was overlaid with a red sash, and Martial wore a sharp, blue button-up coat. Daring herself wore her favorite “disguise” of a long shawl, oversized glasses, and a stupid pink hat.

Martial cleared his throat. His rapier—its sheath hemmed in gold—rattled at his side as he stopped. He rubbed a button with his talons, his throat bobbing.

Blankety Blank spun his head around, his nose twitching. “Whoa. S-somebody’s excited.”

Daring laughed as Martial’s cheeks blushed bright enough to be a traffic signal. She waved at him, giving him a soft punt in the hindquarters. “Go on and ask her to dance, featherbrain. Life ain’t gonna wait for you to drum up the courage, so hop to it!”

“Ah, hum—” Martial blathered a moment longer before launching himself towards Rainbow Dash.

Daring tugged Blankety along, bustling past any questions ponies tried to shoot her way. “I’m gonna find some dark table in the corner to sulk in. You can go ahead and mingle, or eat, or whatever you want. Heck, bring me a plate if you feel like it.”

“Sounds good.” Blankety raised his head as high as it would go to examine the faces surrounding them. “Care’s part of our expedition, right? She’ll be here tonight?”

“All signs point to ‘yes.’” Daring felt a twinge in her wing and stretched it out to remove the slight pain. The ambrosia seemed to be doing its work, because the joint hinged without protest. “Send her my way when she gets here. Or heck, the three of us can have a talk together. I wanna catch up, you know?”

“L-likewise.” Blankety took another glance around, then bobbed his head in farewell. “See you soon.”

He vanished into the crowd like smoke into thin air.

“Now that is freaking cool,” Daring muttered before being surrounded by various high-society ponies. They prattled on and on about when her next book was coming out, what she thinks of the film adaptations, where she gets her inspiration. It was all just so much noise.

“I can answer all your questions with two words,” she said, her voice as dull and uninspired as she could possibly make it. “Nondisclosure agreement.”

While they tried to figure out just what a legal document had to do with her film-related opinions, she ducked out of the sudden circle and took a quick trot upstairs to the second level. Most ponies were down near the dance-floor, their interest that evening more towards being seen than donating to the relief fund. A few private conversations muttered around her as she passed by tables and chairs, and two pegasi couples were dancing in midair just off the edge of the balcony.

She leaned on the railing, watching the couples swoop and bow, their wingbeats carefully timed, their bodies close together. The music was softer this high up, more background noise than a song to dance to. It was a gentle tune, with a slow rhythm. A waltz.

Something strange caught on the edge of her subconscious. Her ear twitched as her eye narrowed in on something on the far side of the second floor. There was a griffon standing in the shadows, roughly Martial’s age and build. He carried a strange angled weapon she’d only seen in news reports from Felaccia: the new volleygun model. The badge on his chest of a winged lightning bolt cinched it; he was a Blitzwing, a Kretchwaugh, a member of King Andean Ursagryph’s elite flyers.

Her heart plummeted. Why hadn’t she realized it when Andean himself met with her and Celestia? She was so busy getting to Ponyville and back. She should have known the griffon king would be in attendance. “Oh, horseapples. Marty.”

She cast a glance downward in an effort to pick Martial Paw out of the crowd. “Of all the times for you to freaking blend in.” She should have at least been able to see Rainbow Dash. She could count on one hoof the ponies she knew of with a rainbow-hued mane.

It was useless to go back down to hunt for him on the ground floor. She’d just be mobbed by fans again. She couldn’t contact Blank until he found her. Martial was alone.

She unfurled her wings and brought them back in. He wasn’t quite alone. He’d have Rainbow Dash if things got dicey. And Daring Do would leap to his side the instant she could get a straight shot at him. He’d have support. He’d have friends.

She spotted King Andean Ursagryph situated between two thick pillars beneath the balcony. He was eating dessert, chatting with anybody brave enough to ask him a question. He seemed friendly. Happy, even. Maybe he’d mellowed out over the years. Maybe things wouldn’t dissolve into shouting again.

“Maybe I’ll just stick a volleygun in my mouth and get it over with.” Daring Do grunted and pulled up a chair, ready to wait the night out like the ticking time bomb it was. “Yeah. That sounds like a reasonable response.”

***

“Happy birthday, Rainbow Dash.”

Martial Paw held one talon up as he stood a meter away from the rainbow-maned mare. He made a fist and clutched it to his chest, bending down for a chivalrous bow. “I must say, this is the most pleasant of unexpected sur—”

“Marty!” Rainbow Dash flew into a backflip out of her chair. She snagged his neck with a powerful foreleg and noogied his headfeathers with her free hoof. “You old air pirate, it’s great to see you! I thought you were up north with Dar—! Uh, I mean, Yearling.”

Martial squawked. He laughed and pried Dash’s embrace away from his head, giving himself some measure of breathing space. “Circumstances changed. I can’t say they’re all good, but they’ve led to this moment at the least.”

Rainbow dragged him to the table and gestured to the two other mares seated there. “Hay, guys. You know Marty, right?”

Applejack nodded, her feigned polite interest belying a knowing smirk. “Martial Paw. Nice to see you still up and kickin’. Gonna stay in Ponyville long enough to pay taxes this time?”

“Well—” Martial scratched the back of his neck. “Well, my work takes me all around the world. I cannot say whether I shall be here one day or gone the next, but—”

“I’m pullin’ your drumsticks, Martial.” Applejack crossed her forelegs to lean on the table. She sent him a wink. “Keep up the good work.”

“Now I’m sure you two are well enough acquainted…” Rarity placed a hoof on her chest and fluttered her eyelashes. “But I don’t believe I recall meeting such a dashing young griffon gentleman.”

“’Dashing’ is right,” Rainbow Dash said, shoving Martial’s shoulder. “Dashing right away from tumbling boulders! Martial Paw is Daring Do—aaaaah A.K. Yearling’s research assistant. We’ve seen some wild adventures, huh?”

Martial smiled at Rainbow Dash’s easy laughter. The world seemed to dim around the mare by sheer contrast with the color in both her mane and personality. He found his heart skipping a beat each time she flapped her wings. “Absolutely. I assume Lady Rarity is ‘in the know,’ as it were?”

“That I am,” Rarity said. “So I have to also assume that the research is far more swashbuckling than academic.”

“There’s more academia than Yearling would like to admit, but yes.” He patted the hilt of his rapier. His ears twitched as the quartet switched up the song to a slightly faster piece. He probably wouldn’t get another chance like this… “We’ve seen our fair share of harrowing circumstances.”

“Fair share!” Rainbow Dash slapped his back, nearly sending him off balance. “This guy’s saved my life about a dozen times, and I’ve paid back my fair share. You shoulda seen his face when we ran into an entire pride of chimeras in the fire swamp!”

Applejack patted the chair between her and Rarity. “Sit down for a spell. Have a bite to eat with us. Always in the market for a new pal.”

Rainbow Dash nodded fervently.

Rarity tossed her curls back with a hoof. “I certainly wouldn’t be against you regaling us with tales of your exploits.”

“I would certainly like to, but first…” Martial Paw turned to Rainbow Dash and offered her a talon. “Rainbow Dash, may I have this dance?”

Rainbow Dash’s smile remained bright, even as one eyebrow lowered. She glanced between Martial and Applejack. “Uh.”

Martial’s mental gears ground to a halt, leaving his mind a vast, blank whiteness completely devoid of wit or charm. He could only hold his breath as he awaited an answer.

Rarity clapped her hooves together, her grin growing wide and devious. “Rainbow Dash! Don’t leave the poor boy waiting! Let him take you for a spin around the dance floor!”

Applejack drew an imaginary infinity symbol across her heart. “I promise we’ll still be here when you get back, sugarcube. Take a load off and show these stuffy ponies how to cut a rug.”

“Whe—um—” Rainbow offered Martial a shrug. She placed her hoof in his talon. “Why the heck not?”

Martial’s lungs expanded with air as he finally regained the ability to breathe. His wings stretched out to release magic which would carry the both of them into the air. She followed suit and quietly joined him on his way to the dance floor. The cheerful music grew louder as they neared the stage, begging their limbs to move.

Rainbow watched carefully as she placed one hoof against his shoulder and the other in his outstretched talon. He did much the same as he rested his other talon against her side. Their wingbeats moved in synch with the melody. Rainbow Dash furrowed her brow and counted the beats under her breath, keeping time as best she could.

Martial cleared his throat as he missed a beat and sent them yawing to one side. “Sorry. I’m not too familiar with this sort of thing.”

“Eh, search me.” Rainbow laughed lightly. “I’m not much of a dancer.” She turned her head in thought, avoiding his attempt at eye contact. “Not with somebody else, anyway. I can headbang with the best of them. Shake a leg and stuff.”

Martial bobbed his head as they twirled. The dryness in his throat had made its way into his mouth, making speaking a difficult ordeal. “I haven’t been given many opportunities. Or taken them, for that matter. I—” He shook his head, lightly enough that maybe she wouldn’t notice. “Well, it’s just nice to see you again, my friend. I hear you and the Wonderbolts have been doing great things for Cloudsdale?”

“Yeah, of course.” Rainbow Dash missed a beat and nearly yanked him down. She laughed at herself, casting a glance at the quartet onstage. “We’ve been doing shows all over Equestria, letting the proceeds go towards the rebuilding. I even had a small show in Saddle Arabia about a year ago.”

“Really?” Martial snagged the conversation thread with all the suave coolness of an old rubbish bin. “Who went with you?”

“Lightning Dust and Raindrops.” Rainbow sniggered. “We knocked the socks off the sultan with the good old Dash-Dust Drop. Lightning literally everywhere. It was awesome.”

She snuck a surreptitious glance at their fellow dancers; everypony else was focused on their dance partners. “So, anything you can tell me about the new Daring Do book? Is it finished yet?”

Martial hushed his voice. “Nearly. She still hasn’t completed the last couple of chapters, but she gave the rest to Twilight Velvet to begin the editing process. It’s about…” He tilted his head and sniffed, mulling over the proper way to express his thoughts. “It’s about her time in the Canter Mountain mines. With Time Turner.”

“Oh.” Rainbow Dash looked down to watch the dance floor swirl beneath them. “Oh. Oh that’s… That’s rough. That’s…” She lifted her head to finally, finally look Martial in the eye. “H-how could she write about something like that? I would never be able to even… I can’t imagine it, Marty.”

“She says it’s her way of coping, and I suppose I have to allow her that.” Martial felt his talon tense up from its place against Rainbow’s side. He forced himself to focus on anything else besides the sensation of her hair on his skin. Anything else. “She’s refused to reconsider it, and she’s rather adamant when the going gets tough.”

“That’s true.” Rainbow Dash let her forelegs drop and hovered a pace back.

Martial clicked his beak together, lowering his eyebrows, until he realized that the song had ended. He took a hasty bow. “Thank you for that. I really appreciate it.”

“Hay, yeah, whatever.” Rainbow Dash grinned and plopped to the ground. She waved him onward, back to the table where her friends sat. “It was nothing, Marty.”

He landed lightly beside her and accompanied her through the thin crowd. “It wasn’t nothing to me.”

“Oh?” Rainbow Dash’s eyebrows came together. She chucked him in the shoulder and quickened her pace. “Come on, knucklehead. Let’s get some grub. I’m starving.”

***

Blankety Blank sat still and closed his eyes, feeling the crowd around him. Looking past the pleasantries and finery and makeup. Seeing beyond the manufactured masks, through the carefully-kept veils. Emotions fired all around him in a cacophony of flavor and feel. Joy and sorrow, anxiety and excitement, memories and plans.

Nopony was talking about Cloudsdale, or the rebuilding, or the event that had happened several months ago. Nopony wanted to talk about any of it. They had been there. They had seen the city-state come apart over their heads. They had seen their homes and businesses destroyed by hurricane-force winds, head-sized hail, and furious lightning strikes. They hid themselves beneath their pomposity, their regality, and their beauty, because then they wouldn’t have to face the fact that life had changed that day. Their perception had been altered as the world around them came crumbling down.

But there was hope. He felt it in every heart as they dropped their pledge cards into the box. As they danced with their partners. As they chatted with their business partners and political allies. They would not think of the past, but looked to the future.

There were those who would dismiss the gala as grandiose self-aggrandizement, but they could not see into the heart as Blank did. And there were many hearts who felt that this was all they were able to do. Together, they fought Hurricane’s legacy of destruction.

Blankety Blank’s ears twitched as he sense a new arrival at the entrance. Several new arrivals, united in heart and purpose. But one more familiar than the others. A heart blazing with fire, burning with drive. The heart of a knight who stood sentinel over Equestria, and especially her friends.

Blankety opened his eyes to see Care Carrot stride up to the herald, who nodded at her words. The herald lifted their nose to the sky and belted forth:

“H’announcing: Spike the Dragon and friends!”

Spike entered the room soon after, accompanied by a pegasus stallion and an earth pony stallion Blank didn’t recognize. He remembered the mare, though. Apple Bloom, plain and tall. The mare who always seemed close to Spike in the time Blank had known him. The mare whose heart practically broadcast that she’d like to be closer still.

Judging by the way Spike and Apple Bloom walked hoof-in-claw, that wish had come true. Blank giggled.

Blank turned his gaze back to Care, who was wearing the unarmored dress uniform of the Royal Guard; a suit of blue fabric covered by a red sash that denoted her rank as captain. She wore a medal on the left side of her breast. It was a shimmering gemstone heart, denoting that she had been injured in the line of duty. Added to that was the simple gold circlet on her head, awarded for an action of great valor.

Blankety Blank looked down at his own sash, which was tied around his middle rather than slung over his shoulder. He felt a little underdressed, but then, he wasn’t supposed to let on that he was military. His medals and circlets would serve no purpose to him at the gala. Heck, they barely fit in his travel trunk anymore.

Care Carrot scanned the crowd, her eyes almost predatory in their alertness. They widened when they caught sight of Blank, who waved a greeting. She spoke briefly with Spike, and they split ways. She headed for Blankety, while the others headed to where Mayor Applejack, Captain Dash, and Lady Rarity were cloistered.

Blank stood to embrace Care tightly. Familiar feelings of safety and togetherness flooded his soul. Brothers in arms who faced a tumultuous trial, and together overcame it. He knew Care felt it too, in the deepest part of herself. Blankety laughed through his teeth. “You have no idea how good it is to s-see you again.”

“Maybe not,” Care said as they parted. “But I’ve got a hunch.”

She brushed her wavy mane over one shoulder and took a seat at Blank’s table. She waved to a passing servant pony and got them each a sparkling drink. “It’s even better knowing we’re going to be working together again. And Daring, too. With Velvet heading up the investigation in Ponyville, it feels like a full reunion of the team.”

Her eyes took on a far-away expression, her mouth crooking to the side. “Well, almost full.”

“Time’s here in spirit.” Blank gestured to the balcony, where Daring Do could be seen leaning off the railing. “He always w-will be, as long as his legacy lives on.”

Care smirked at him. “It figures the pony who eats souls would know a thing or two about them.”

“I do not eat souls,” Blank laughed. “I swear, I just eat magic. Emotions. A soul is m-more than just that.”

Care leaned against the table, clasping her hooves beneath her chin. “So you gotta spill everything. What’ve you and Daring been doing in the Northern Equestrian Wastes? Find anything awesome?”

Blankety leaned closer to match and took a sip of his drink. He kept his voice low, just enough to reach Care’s ears. “You wouldn’t believe it if you s-saw it. We found an entire ancient changeling city, with actual functional magic-powered automatons. And—”

The world around Blankety Blank stopped cold. Sound faded away to an eerie whine. Light succumbed to shadows at the edge of his vision. The joy of being beside his dear friend dissipated in a moment. All was overtaken by a single feeling, starting at the center of his heart and spreading to every corner of his body. A cold, bitter yearning. It took him a second to realize that he was no longer experiencing the emotions around him; this sensation came straight from within. It was a reaction, coded by his innermost being, to one specific presence.

The herald’s voice was crystal clear, echoing through his head. “H’announcing: Queen Chrysalis the Second of the Changeling Kingdom.”

Blankety Blank stared straight at Chrysalis. Her mane was changed—she had disguised it to be a light, silly pink rather than her natural color. Her eyes, too, had been colored pink and their pupils slit. She was so much taller than he remembered. To her right stood the battle-hardened visage of Commander Bugly, and to her left were two changelings Blank recognized as being soldiers from Chrysalis the Tyrant’s hive.

Chrysalis stared back at Blank with a gap-mouthed expression. She seemed as frozen as he was, and it was clear to the both of them that they recognized each other.

“Mandible?”

Blank’s breath caught somewhere between his mouth and his lungs. Her words echoed in his heart. He couldn’t shut her out. He didn’t dare.

“Mandible?” Her mouth didn’t move. He didn’t think she was capable of speaking in any other manner, not at the moment. “Mandible, is it really you?”

Care’s warm touch against his shoulder shook him back to the world at large. She looked him right in the eye, her breath hot and ready for action. “Blank, we can leave out the back door. I can cover your escape, and distract—”

“N-no, Care.” Blankety Blank shuddered. He raised his hoof to hers and held it there, sucking his lips. “It’s fine. It’s okay. It’s…” He returned his gaze to Chrysalis, swallowing the lump in his throat. “It’s a reunion with… with an old friend.”

The ponies who had at one point held hope in their hearts recoiled. In fear. In disgust. In distrust. Chrysalis had a wide berth as she walked slowly towards Blankety’s table.

“Mandible, please.” Her heart sang to his, desperate and pleading. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she refused to release them. “Please say it’s really you.”

Blankety Blank lowered his head. He let his ears lay back on his scalp. He met her disguised eyes, face-to-face, heart-to-heart. “It’s me, Lisse. It’s really me.”

Chrysalis exhaled from deep in her chest. She stopped beside the table, in full view of the gala. She glanced to and fro, examining the crowd. Finding no welcoming faces, she turned to Care. “Captain Carrot, may I speak to you and your friend outside?”

Care twitched her ears towards Blank, biting her lip. When he nodded, she spoke slowly and carefully. “Of course, Queen Chrysalis. That would be fine.”

Chrysalis was about to speak further when Princess Luna rested a hoof on her shoulder. “Queen Chrysalis! I had hoped to introduce you to a few ponies I hold very dear.” Quietly, imperceptibly to the surrounding crowd, she added: “Away from Mister Blank.”

Chrysalis II lowered the chitinous plates that made up her eyebrows. “Who?”

“Your Majesty.” Care stood up and threw Luna a quick salute. “The party’s just gotten started. I think it would be expedient for us to smooth over a few things before we socialize, ma’am.”

Luna narrowed her eyes. “I trust your judgement, Captain. Perhaps too much.” She gave Chrysalis a pat and sent her onward. “Be as quick as you can. It seems you have much to talk about.”

Blankety saw Mayor Gaston approach with a faux-friendly smile. When he met Luna’s cold stare, he backed away, soon turning on his heels to find somewhere else to be.

Luna gave Chrysalis her full attention, her wings spread imperiously, her horn faintly shimmering with the light of the rising moon on a chilly winter’s night. “I trust there is no trouble to be had, Queen Chrysalis?”

“N-no.” Chrysalis shook her head, relief flooding from her heart. There was light there, buried beneath piles and piles of stress and indecision, worry and fear. Light that brightened when she turned her small, gentle smile to Blank, her disguised pink eyes shining. “I don’t believe there will be any trouble at all.”

Blankety Blank and Care Carrot stood. Luna led them and the changeling queen to a set of double sliding doors, and allowed them to step into the night. Blank’s knees knocked. His heart raced. His breathing grew shallow.

He knew Chrysalis felt it within him. He just hoped she wouldn’t have to realize why.

***

“A.K. Yearling?” The griffon Blitzwing stopped before her table. Kretchwaugh. Literally “the one with lightning in his wings.” His body was covered in thin plates of silvery armor, which were hidden beneath light robes designed to leave his movement unimpeded. His long, angled weapon clicked against his arm guards, while the knife at his side glimmered in the shadows. “It’s been a while.”

Daring studied his face. Griffon armor didn’t hide the identity of the wearer like Equestrian Royal Guard armor. His face remained as it should be, with gray feathers, black flecks, and deeply fierce amber eyes. “Crested Barbary. Still captain of Andean’s guard?”

“I am.” Crested’s beak clicked. “Martial Paw is still your cartographer of choice?”

“He is.” Daring Do pressed her hooves against the table to lift herself to her full impressive height. Impressive for a pegasus, that is. Not necessarily for a griffon. “And he’s having a pretty great night so far. I’d appreciate it if you and Andean didn’t screw it up for him.”

“So he is here.” Crested Barbary scanned the lower floor of the ballroom, soon coming to a stop where Daring supposed Martial must have been. “I wasn’t sure if the griffon with you was him or not.”

Daring scowled. She supposed she couldn’t blame him. It’d been ten years, more or less, since Martial had been to Felaccia. People tended to grow and change over the course of a decade. “It’s him. And he’s fine with me. He’s thriving. He’s as much a part of my team as I am. You and I both know that’ll never change.”

“I would agree. And I believe King Ursagryph feels the same way.” Crested Barbary turned his head so that he could look Daring in the eye. “But we also feel that words must be said.”

“Save it for the end of the night.” Daring folded her oversized glasses and let them rest on the table. She finally found Martial, following Dash back to their table. Her heart ached just thinking about it. “Give him at least that much before you dredge up old corpses. Show him just… just that little bit of mercy.”

Crested gripped the hilt of his volleygun. “Don’t think you can sneak him out of here under our beaks.”

“Come on, dude.” Daring Do smirked mirthlessly at the griffon soldier. “I couldn’t sneak a piece of cheese from a drowned rat.”

The Shattered Heart

The garden was quiet as Blankety slowly followed in step with Care. Statues stood cloaked in shadow, illuminated at the edges by the residual light of the gala. The monument known as Justice glared down at him, its face impassive, its scales carefully balanced. His nostrils flared at the harsh mintiness of Care’s mingled nervousness and preparedness. His ears burned as Queen Chrysalis II gave him every ounce of her attention, questions and confusion bombarding him as they thundered through her heart.

“Where did you go?” Chrysalis asked, her voice strained, her disguised pink eyes pleading. “I thought for sure you were dead! Especially when you didn’t…”

Blankety Blank shut his eyes, trying and failing to hide his heart from the onslaught of pain. Spice and salt, both poured on a burning wound. Disbelief and denial, doing their all to defend from a startling realization.

“Why didn’t you come back, Mandible?” she whispered.

Blank turned away, his ears drooping. “I—I couldn’t. Not after seeing everything Queen Chrysalis—”

“I killed her, Mandible!” Chrysalis sobbed, gulping down breaths where she could. “I killed her and it was safe and you could have come back!”

Blankety flinched at the bite in her voice and the fire in her heart.

“I…” Chrysalis shrunk in on herself, her wings shivering against her back. “I’m all alone.”

He nearly choked on his tongue. He opened his mouth slowly, hesitantly, certain of what needed to be said but unsure of whether he ought to say it just yet.

“Th-the others don’t understand friendship,” she said. “I don’t really get it, either. I need help, Blankety. I need you back. You were there. You saw how Thorax changed everything.” Tears dripped down her cheeks in unconstrained streams. “I don’t know how to do it. I don’t understand. Nobody can find his hive to ask him.” She reached a cloven hoof out for him, hoping to touch his cheek. “Can’t you help me?”

Blank stopped her hoof midway. “Lissie. If I could, don’t you think I’d have d-done it by now?”

“B-but together—”

“I can’t.” Blankety moved away from her, to stand beside Care. Captain Carrot looked at him with her eyebrows low, weighing the conversation as carefully as Justice behind them. “After what happened, I—I can’t help the changelings, Lissie, because—”

There it was. Potent as poison. Vile as bile. Tucked so tightly into one corner of his heart that it couldn’t be removed without shattering it. Wedged so firmly into his soul that he could never untangle the knots.

“Lissie, I hate the changelings. I hate them so much it hurts.”

The reaction from Care was expected, yet still strong enough to be noticed above his own churning stomach. Surprise, confusion, a little anger, even. Her thoughts could be sorted through. Her emotions would find a center, from which she could glean strength.

Chrysalis, on the other hoof…

“What?” Her disguised, slitted pupils shrunk. Her face fell. But what he could see was only the surface effects of her emotions. Within, radiating from her heart, was pure, unbridled brokenness.

She saw truth, and didn’t like it one bit.

“Blankety…” Care placed a hoof on his shoulder. “Captain Obvious, here, but you are a changeling. A good one. And I think the queen is, too—”

“I know, Care. I know.” He thumped a hoof against his chest. “I know! And it tears me up whenever I think about it! Whenever I look into my reflection, I see a face that has committed atrocities! Do you know what it’s like to hate everything about yourself? To see yourself in the mirror and know it’s wrong, despised, pure evil? I ran as far as I could as soon as I got the chance, because I can’t handle it!”

The volcano erupted, and was just as quickly quenched. The magma of his anger hissed to a cold stone. He turned his eyes to the ground, away from the shock on Care’s face. “Th-that’s why I couldn’t go back. The only way I could live with myself was… was to throw m-my old life away. Become a pony in every way I could. Reject my given name, my g-given face, and become something better.”

He looked at Chrysalis with a sigh. “Do you know what it’s like to hate yourself more than anything else in the world?”

His heart sank. Chrysalis glared at him with fire behind her eyes. He jaw clenched tightly behind the carapace of her mouth. She hissed out her words clearly, carefully, enunciating every word so that he would never miss their meaning. “Why do you think I killed my mother? Because every time I looked at her, I could only see what she had done to make me.”

She stomped a hoof feebly, and put the strength in her voice rather than her muscles. “I came here because I know the changelings can become better than what my mother transformed them into. We can become a people again, and rise above the evil we’ve become. We can matter again.”

He sat in the soft grass, his disguised white tail falling in line with his hind leg. He bowed his head, his throat tight. “The creatures you rule are the same changelings that fought against Thorax.”

Chrysalis II jerked her head back. “H-how do you know?”

“First, because you’re too young to have children.” Blankety Blank shook his head. “Second, because Queen Chrysalis scraped the barrel dry when building her new hive. She found all the changelings she could, sent us to war, and left us an endangered species. Your subjects are all as guilty as she is.”

“They were confused.” Chrysalis spread her wings, her tail lashing behind her. “But we can lead them on if you just help me.”

Blankety’s dry tongue rasped against the top of his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

Chrysalis stumbled back as though he had kicked her in the chest. He supposed she felt like he had. She scowled, her face twisting into a frightful Nightmare Night mask of teeth and anger. “I wish you had died! At least then I’d still miss you!”

She ran deeper into the garden. In the sky, Blank noted a Royal Guardspony team hovering after her, keeping an eye on her activities without interfering. He suspected they’d seen more than they’d bargained for.

“Blankety…” Care grasped his shoulder and shook it. “Blank, what the heck was that?”

Blank turned away. “Care—”

“All the talk we’ve had of family. After everything you said to me ab—”

“Care, please.”

“You’re just gonna sit there and deny the people who need you—”

“Shut! Up!”

“She’s your family, Blank!” Care prevented him from pulling away by tightening her grip on his shoulder. She thrust her other foreleg out to point at the garden. “That’s what family looks like when it gets hurt! She needs you and you’re just gonna—”

“You’re my family, Care!” He grasped at the collar of her jacket in the hopes of getting a little more breathing room. He couldn’t quite push her back. “You, and Daring, and Celestia. You are more of a family than the changelings will ever be. The changelings are a curse.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“Everybody who hears about it tries to fix it.” He whispered, keeping his words away from potential prying eyes. “You can’t fix loathing this deep, Care; this personal. I’ve seen the evil changelings do. The lying, thievery, murder, extortion, treason, r—worse. I had to run.”

Care released him. He slumped back, surprised that she’d basically been supporting his weight. She clicked her tongue. “All peoples have individuals guilty of that sort of thing, Blank. It’s not just the changelings.”

“But what have the changelings done,” he asked, “besides those things?”

“You saved Celestia’s life and mine.” She prodded his chest with her horn. “Thorax started a movement that is still having effects today. Queen Chrysalis the Second…” Care looked after the departed queen, who had long ago vanished into the greenery. “She’s trying to change the world.”

Care’s ears twitched as she searched his pinkish eyes. “Are you gonna make her do it alone?”

“No.” Blank licked his lips. “But she’ll d-do it without me.”

Care opened her mouth to speak, but apparently thought better of it. She sighed, closing her eyes and standing. She cast one last glance after the queen. “We should get back to the party.”

She gave him a lingering, pointed look. “And get ready for our mission.”

When they returned, the changeling soldiers were waiting. The bigger one, with the missing eye, growled under his breath. “We felt the torment. What did you do to our queen?”

“I told her…” Blank coughed. His first instinct was to lash out at Commander Bugly, but cooler heads prevailed. “I told her I c-couldn’t help you.”

Bugly and the other soldier shared a silent conversation. Bugly waved at Blankety to carry on. “I guess there wasn’t much to hope for from a deserter.”

“I d-didn’t desert.” Blank hissed. “I was n-nearly murdered. By. You.”

Bugly’s ear twitched. He brushed at the eyepatch strapped to his head. “The death of Chrysalis the Tyrant freed us from a lot of things, Mandible. But I still don’t like you.”

He and his fellow soldier ran into the garden, pursuing their queen in the hopes of comforting her. Judging from Bugly’s track record in such things, they had a rocky road ahead of them.

Care laid a soft foreleg over his back. “It’ll be quieter in the balcony.”

Blank nodded and followed her up the stairs. He wallowed silently in his thoughts, wishing for all the world that he could still be dead to Lissie.

***

Queen Chrysalis II huddled beside a towering hedge, curled up in a ball of misery and tears. She could sense the two Equestrian guards above her, and the two changelings searching her out, but didn’t reveal herself. Not just yet. She had earned a moment of alone time. A moment where she didn’t have to explain herself. A moment where she could just be tired, and scared, and sorry.

She didn’t mean what she said, there at the end. She didn’t want Mandible to be dead. She was glad he had a life he felt good living. But… Couldn’t she be part of it, too?

Voices startled her out of her reverie. She shrunk back against the leaves and branches, rejecting the instinct to disguise herself as a plant. It would be too much work to get her current disguise exactly right again. She didn’t dare showcase her true self. Not even one bit.

She saw a couple walking slowly through the flowers and trees. Their tails intertwined, her wing on his back, their faces cheek to cheek. Love blossomed between them, and just the ambient aroma of it nearly overwhelmed Chrysalis. She allowed it to seep in, steady her core, offer some semblance of relief. Truly, if such love existed, the world could not be such a terrible place.

“I think we should throw more galas in the Crystal Empire,” the stallion said. “You know; the kind of parties just busy enough to not notice that we’ve slipped away.”

“Oh come on, you saw what happened in Ponyville,” the mare—the alicorn mare—replied. “If we start overbudgeting for parties, all of Equestria will notice just how far you’ll go for a good ‘inconvenience.’”

The fragile peace within Chrysalis shattered. She stepped out from her hiding spot, ready to run as far away from the happy couple as she could. But, unfortunately, she underestimated their closeness. She came out nearly right in their line of sight. At first their jaws dropped as their conversation ground to a halt, but then the stallion offered a hoof.

“Um. Hello! I’m Prince Shining Armor.” He grinned at her, the sort of way a dad grins at a terrible joke, or a child grins when they’re about to eat too much ice cream. “I don’t think we’ve formally met, Your Majesty.”

She looked into his eyes, sensed the depths of his heart, and immediately understood that everything ponies said about him was true. In those blue wells of magic lay an immense quiet strength. A power kept carefully in check. An assurance that it could and would help the needy, save the oppressed, and fight the oppressor. At the same moment, there was a softness to it; a genuine gentleness that could be trusted without fear. A heart willing to believe the best in others. A voice welcoming to those he once considered an enemy.

She couldn’t stand it any longer. She looked to the mare beside him, who glowed with a immensely powerful aura of kindness and mercy. Though buffeted by lingering anger and deep hurt, she contained those behind a cage made of love. Cadence, too, was willing to put aside her pain for the sake of Chrysalis II. “And I’m Princess Cadenza. But you already knew that.”

“You two are wonderful ponies,” Chrysalis said, and immediately regretted it. That wasn’t a greeting; that was a lovesick little filly grasping at warmth. “I-I would… Love to talk with you, but… I have, um, somewhere I was going.”

“Do you know the way?” Shining Armor said. “We could probably help you find it quicker.”

“I’m fine!” Chrysalis trotted her way between the hedges, not daring to look back. “I have a map and stuff, so yeah.”

“But—” Cadence pointed. “That’s the hedge maze.”

“Yeah, I’ve wanted to see it since I got here!” Chrysalis waved. “Thanks for all the help, bye!”

She was hopelessly lost within moments. Just as well. She could always fly out once she felt better, and until then, she had no danger of being discovered. This deep in the maze, there was no light from the moon overhead, nor from the gala several meters away. Instead, she found her path lit by bioluminescent flowers, shimmering a soft blue. Just like Shining Armor’s eyes.

She lay down in the midst of the maze and covered her face with a foreleg. Light still leaked through the holes in her shin. Love still bloomed all around her. But none of the love was for her. None of the light warmed her. There was silence and there were tears.

“You are so much greater than they.”

Chrysalis gasped at the sudden intrusion on her privacy. The thoughts were spoken directly into her heart, not a word uttered, not a sound heard. The maze seemed so much colder than before, the flowers’ illumination lacking. “Who’s there?”

“Speak as a changeling speaks, child.” The voice buzzed within her chest, solemn and purposeful. “Speak with the heart, and the thoughts, that lie deep within your soul.”

Chrysalis swallowed hard. She spoke with the heart, humming with the power of her magic. “Who are you, and why do you speak to me?”

One of the flowers danced without a single touch of wind. The blue light dimmed and flickered, before it was finally snuffed out. The flower slumped to the ground, no longer filled with life, no longer strong in the stem. Yet still, though it was dead, it twitched. Magic sparkled around it, hoisting it with what appeared to be a great effort. Before Chrysalis could react, the flower stood upright, glowing from the core with a brilliant green.

Chrysalis II tasted the magic with the edge of her tongue. The flowers around her remained the same, with their natural, innate magic bursting from within. The flower that had died… the magic was wrong. Sickly, weak, damaged, uncertain. Yet at the same time, it felt quite familiar. It shared many of its qualities with changeling magic. Not transformation, but the other, more invasive methods of using it.

You worry for the changelings. As befits one who would be their leader.” The voice spoke from the flower to her heart, a steady buzz that did little to rise and fall as most voices would. A monotone, if thoughts could be such a thing. “You, Chrysalis the Second, who would seek help from the most powerful creatures in the world.”

“I have delayed it too long.” Chrysalis tilted her head to examine the flower from every angle. No water stiffened the stem. No sugar was created within the chlorophyll. The petal browned at the edges. “Soon we will be extinct, and no one will miss us. I had to approach Princess Celestia for aid.”

“The ponies will not help you. Not as they should.” The flower seemed to wilt before gathering up its strength. “They see the changelings not as their own nation, but a people to be added to theirs. Too dangerous to be left alone. Too useful to reject. You will save the changelings, but leave them in slavery.”

“What choice do I have?” Chrysalis spoke aloud, quietly so as not to let her voice break through the hedges. “Of course the changelings will be a protectorate of Equestria. We aren’t a self-sustaining people. We rely on others for our food, our magic, our lives. Our only hope is friendship and protection.”

“You do not understand, do you?” Magic flared from the flower. Sparks trailed through the air, drawing a lined afterimage. Chrysalis held her tongue as a face appeared before her; aged and angled, yet all too familiar. “The changelings were made to rule.”

It was the face of a changeling. Not her mother, as her mother would never have depicted herself as anything but utterly beautiful. This face was aged, wizened, far older than any changeling Chrysalis had ever seen. She couldn’t see the eyes in the afterimage, but the mouth gave her all the expression she needed; the ghostly changeling was disappointed.

“Who are you?” Chrysalis asked, returning the conversation to a heart-to-heart.

The face did not change expression, nor did the mouth move. “I am Queen River Cicada of the Changeling Empire. I am the first in the lineage of Changeling Queens, and your ancestor.”

“You!” Chrysalis leapt to her hooves with righteous fury, ready to stamp the flower into the dust. “You started the whole thing, didn’t you? The kidnappings, and the impersonations, and the murd—”

“Silence! Learn what I have to teach!” The head flared with magic, just enough to cut Chrysalis short. “I come from a time before such things were necessary for sheer survival. I come from a time when changelings were hailed as heroes. As protectors. As lords of the age.”

Chrysalis spread her wings. “How could this be?”

“Because, my child,” Cicada said, “we wielded the Elements of Harmony.”

Chrysalis’ heart burned. Her head swam. Her hooves itched. “Why should I believe you?”

Cicada’s eyeless pits bored into Chrysalis’ head. She wanted more than anything to shout, to look away, to flee, but found herself rooted as firmly as the flowers. “You need only look at how the Princesses of Equestria so easily cover up our accomplishments. Go to the ruined Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters and look beneath, and there you will find the evidence of our greatest achievements.”

For the first time since she’d first spoken, Cicada’s voice lowered, softened. The head melted away in a shower of sparks, and the flower flickered. “You are the last hope for the changelings now, child. The last Changeling Queen. The last chance for us to grow beyond the chains the ponies have lashed around our ankles. The last light to once again regain the glory of the Elements. Go!”

The flower fell limp and dark, dead and decayed, browned and spotted.

“My Queen!” Bugly rounded the corner with Scarabaeus in tow. “We have searched everywhere for you. Why would you wander off?”

“I needed… time to think.” Chrysalis glanced down at the flower, which already seemed to fade into the dirt from whence it came. “I think… I am ready to rejoin the gala.”

Scarabaeus saluted. “My Queen, should we ask for Mandible to be escorted out?”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Chrysalis II looked up to see the two Royal Guardsponies had also found her. “I believe I shall be spending the evening in conversation with Princess Celestia.” She narrowed her eyes, fighting off the pain that threatened to send her heart off balance once again. “I have a lot of questions to ask.”

***

Martial Paw took a seat beside Rainbow Dash and found that the table was far more populated than it had been a few moments before. He recognized the dragon as Princess Sparkle’s assistant, but the others were strangers. Their eyes turned to face him, briefly widening before glancing to Rainbow.

“Whoa, didn’t know it was gonna be that kinda party!” Rainbow Dash propped herself on her forelegs and grinned at the young ponies. “What brings you here, Rumble? I’ll bet you’ve got a certain somepony hanging off your arm.”

The muscular pegasus she dubbed “Rumble” stared at her with a blank expression. Before the dumb look on his face grew too obvious, Applejack leaned in and put her hoof on his shoulder. “They’re here on account of that business we’re talkin’ ‘bout over dinner, Dash. Ain’t exactly fun and games on the plate tonight.”

Spike nodded, giving the tall mare by his side a sidelong hug. “We’re joining Aunt Yearling on her next mission. It’s gotten… kinda personal. Applejack and Rarity’ll explain it later.”

“Hold up, now.” Martial Paw raised a talon, shaking it ever so slightly. “You’re joining our mission? Who decided this?”

A brown-coated colt—possibly around Rumble’s age—narrowed his eyes. “May we ask who you are?”

Rainbow Dash leaped up to hover over the table. “Okay, too tense, guys. Introductions are in order! Left to right: Apple Bloom, Spike, Rumble, Mutton Hash.”

“Button Mash.”

“Sorry, dude.”

Button Mash shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.”

Rumble, obviously greatly amused, hid a smirk behind his hoof. “Like what?”

“Butt ’n’ Trash was popular on the playground.”

“And this—” Rainbow Dash laid a hoof on the joint of Martial’s wing. “—is Martial Paw. A.K. Yearling’s cartographer, bodyguard, pre-reader, and professional worrywart.”

“I don’t get paid to worry.” Martial steepled his talons. “And yet I worry. What sort of credentials are you bringing to the mission? Who brought you onboard?”

Spike the Dragon glanced around. Not finding who he was looking for, he turned back to Martial. “Captain Care Carrot invited us after a little cajoling. Know her?”

Martial leaned back and raised an eyebrow. “I’ve heard the name but haven’t a face to put to it.”

“Well, she’s the field commander for the rescue.” Spike crossed his forearms over his chest, subtly flexing his muscles and his authority. “So she’s got final say on the issue.”

“Final say, perhaps.” Martial leaned his right foreleg on the table and clicked his beak. “But I have yet to share my say.”

“Easy does it, Marty,” Rainbow Dash said, chuckling lightly. “These are good kids. I’d trust any of them with my life.” She turned an unsteady eye to Rumble and Button Mash. “Well… Half of them. A quarter of them. Maybe.”

Applejack stuffed a caramel tart into her mouth before putting in her two bits. “My little sis is not only strong as all get out, but also a wiz when it comes to potion makin’ and the like. And Rumble just got through a year’s trainin’ for bein’ a Royal Guard.”

Rarity dabbed a handkerchief to the corners of her eyes. “I have it on good authority that Button Mash makes for a rather dashing first-aid responder. And let us not discount the fact that dear Spikey-Wikey is a dragon, with all that it entails.”

Martial Paw rubbed the gold buttons on his cufflinks. He spent a brief moment marveling at the utter sincerity in her voice when she said “Spikey-Wikey.” With anybody else, he suspected the name would have sounded condescending, rather than genuinely loving. “I admit that we have yet to be truly introduced. I suppose I’ll save my judgement.”

Button Mash tilted his head, his eyes turned upward. “Yeah, but first impressions last forever.”

Martial frowned at the colt. Button’s voice was rather nasally; almost grating. “While true, impressions aren’t everything.”

His ear twitched at a sound beside him. Rainbow Dash had grown inordinately quiet in the last few moments. Frightfully so. Not even a thrown remark, or clever retort, or anything else passed her lips. She looked at the tabletop dourly, her eyes unfocused, her lips parted.

He touched a knuckle to her foreleg. “Is everything alright, Rainbow?”

She jolted as if out of a dream. She grinned at him, with the sort of grin that didn’t quite match what her heart was feeling. With her ears lowered, she pushed her chair back a step. “I think I need some air. I’ll be right back.”

Martial stood alongside her. “M-might I accompany you to the garden?”

“Uh.” Rainbow Dash clicked her teeth shut, maintaining the same synthesized smile. “Sure. Why not. Knock yourself out.”

Applejack mirrored Rainbow’s expression. Her eyes, tired as they were, held a barrel’s worth of sympathy. “Don’t suppose you’ll need a chaperone?”

“Ha ha, no.” Rainbow Dash trotted towards the doors, which led to the outside and cool night air. “I promise, I’ll be right back.”

Martial’s wings itched to fly to wherever they were going. If only to hear what Rainbow had to say; if only to end the agonizing question. Instead, he followed wordlessly, plodding along softly beside her.

She was a tall mare, powerfully built for speed and endurance. Full wings folded across her back. Sturdy hooves clomped firmly against the marbled floor. Yet despite how strong she was, her face was still soft. Kindness lay beneath that strength, leveling it out and lending a firm foundation. Her blue coat was cut short to minimize wind resistance, but the mane was far less carefully managed. She let it run mostly wild down her neck, right to her shoulders.

He supposed the most striking feature, the one that drew his eyes every time, was the way the green streak in her mane curled just beneath her ear. It was a small detail, and yet so uniquely her that he couldn’t help but love it.

There was a stone bench a short walk into the garden, covered in flowering vines. She took a seat on one end, and he at the other. She watched the stars twinkle for a length of time that was both far too long and far too short. “So, I got a question.”

He let the edge of his mouth quirk upward. “I’ll bet I have an answer.”

“Yeah.” Rainbow nodded, her voice and face neutral. “Your mission.”

Martial felt his smile slip away almost unnoticed. “What about it?”

“Spike said it was a rescue.” Rainbow Dash nodded, as if affirming her comment. “He’s here with the other two most adequate bachelors of Ponyville, yet there’s only one Crusader. Applejack and Rares know about it, but don’t wanna talk about it right now.”

She laid her head in her hooves, her voice breaking. “Marty, did something happen to Scootaloo? T-to Sweetie Belle? Is that what this is all about?”

“I don’t know any specifics.” He held out two empty talons. “All I know is that two young mares were kidnapped, Caballeron is behind it, and we are going to stop him.”

When Rainbow didn’t respond, he scooched closer and cupped her shoulders in his talons. “I promise I’ll let no harm come to them.”

“I know. I know you’ll save them.” Rainbow shivered under his touch. She pulled away, and he let his talons drop. She squirmed a bit, fiddling with her hooves. “Marty… I’m sorry, Marty, but if…”

She tried to look him in the eye, but fell away almost immediately. “Martial, if you’re trying to do what I think you’re trying to do… don’t.”

Martial felt his entire body burn from the depths of his soul outward. Not of anger, but of defeat. Embarrassment. Agony. “D-don’t do what?” he said, already guessing at the answer.

“Asking me to dance, trying to comfort me, being all lovey-dovey…” Rainbow Dash shook her head. “Marty, you’re an awesome guy. Not a single doubt in my mind. You’re cool and you’re fun and you’re adventurous and all that.”

Martial felt his bones shrink; as if they were disintegrating into dust right within his body. His heart plummeted. Words tumbled into his mouth, but he refused to release them. He knew that if he were to speak, it would be exactly the wrong thing.

“I’m not…” Rainbow Dash rubbed her foreleg with a hoof. “I’m not the romantic sort, Marty. Never have been. I’m not looking for it, thinking about it, anything. It’s not that you’re not totally wicked, I’m just not interested. In anybody. I’m invested in the Wonderbolts and acting and I’m totally going to publish that book one of these days, and…”

Her voice grew quiet. Her blue cheeks flared up with a warm velvet color. “I’m sorry. The last thing I wanna do is break your heart, but I don’t wanna offer you false hopes.”

She finally met his eyes. There were tears in hers. They matched fairly well with his, if he thought about it. She rested a hoof on his forearm—all too briefly—and muttered a goodbye. She returned to the gala by air, making her way into the top floor of the ballroom.

Martial Paw sat on the bench and cleared his mind. He breathed in deep, but when he let it out, it forced its way into a single sob. He covered his eyes, wiping away hot tears and forcing calmness upon himself. He sought a happy place, desperately. A center of peace. A good memory.

Ah, there was one helping Dash on her first movie set. Lovely! Oh, there was the first time he and Dash had met, over the snake pit. Darling! And who could forget just two years before, when he’d been able to visit her home in Ponyville…

“Sheesha kevatch!” He slammed his fist down on the stone, landing a feeble paft sound with the blow. “Kevatch…”

The clink of metal stole his attention. He turned slightly bitter eyes on his newly arrived company. His beak fell open at the sight.

Crested Barbary, Captain of Andean Ursagryph’s personal Praetorian Guard of Blitzwings, stood at attention not a meter away.

Martial gripped the edge of the bench, scratching his talons into the stone. “I’m sorry. I usually try to be out of town when the king visits.”

Crested Barbary, to his credit, remained professional in his outward mannerisms. “His Grace would like to have a word with you.”

“Now isn’t the best time—”

“There may not be another time, Martial.” Crested looked him up and down. “Certainly not if you have your way.”

Martial Paw clicked his beak, rubbing the skin beneath his eye in the hopes of becoming the least bit presentable to the public. False hopes. “Until now, I had thought he wished the same.”

Crested touched his talon to the pommel of the sword at his side. “Life is not a stagnate thing. It moves, flows, changes, and grows. People are much the same.”

Martial stood up and stretched his wings. “Is that Haycartes?”

“Hardly. Haycartes was more invested in the relation between the soul and the world around it, rather than how the soul may change.” Crested came alongside Martial and walked him slowly back to the gala. “You haven’t been keeping up with your studies, have you?”

“I’m afraid my arena of thought drifts more towards the turn of the millennium than the turn of the century.”

“Understandable, considering the company you keep.” Crested’s gaze lowered to the grass before laying itself upon the doorway. “You are happy here, aren’t you?”

Martial ached at the very core of his being, but had to admit the truth. “I am, for the most part. Daring is… well, just about all I have left to love.”

Crested Barbary held the door open for Martial. “I’m sorry.”

Martial turned his head to the side to look Barbary eye-to-eye. “I’m sorry about a great many things, but leaving Felaccia isn’t one of them.”

“Of course not.” Crested scowled lightly and pointed. “I feel that’s the problem.”

Martial followed the path of his talon and caught sight of two large pillars on the far side of the room. A few ponies milled around, but the vast majority kept their distance. A black feather swished its way out of the shadows and into sight.

He picked out six Blitzwings on first glance, placed at perfect intervals at the ready to pounce on any corner of the ballroom. He had missed them completely the first time he’d entered, blinded as he was by Rainbow Dash’s radiance. How stupid. How utterly stupid.

He weaved between clumps of dancers and around conversationalists on his way to the king. Ponies barely gave him notice, concerned as they were with their own troubles. His heartbeat quickened as he neared the pillars; amazing for it to be brought back to life so soon after he thought it dead.

He paused just before seeing the king. He took stock of the surroundings. There were multiple ponies in earshot. High-society types, of the sort a mayor would invite to a fundraising gala. Ponies expecting a lovely, relaxing evening. Certainly King Andean Ursagryph wouldn’t cause a scene in the midst of such a crowd. Certainly he’d know better. There had to be another reason to call Martial to him.

Right?

Martial Paw sighed and rounded the pillar. He craned his neck to see the familiar, well-worn face of his one-time king. “Hello, Uncle Andy.”

King Andean Ursagryph set down his plate of various desserts. He shuffled himself into a more comfortable position, ruffling the feathers in his wings and beard. “Martial. I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

“I’m here now.” Martial fought to keep his voice level. Free from emotion. Calm. He wasn’t going to be the one to escalate the encounter into a shouting match. “What did you wish to say?”

Martial caught a flash of something in Andean’s eyes. A faint pain, just on the edge of his awareness. A twinge of an old wound.

“I imagine,” Andean said, “that there is not much left to say.” He tapped a talon against the ground, his eyebrows meeting in the middle of his bald forehead. “I suppose I just… wanted to make sure you were well.”

Martial had no real answer for that. He waited, his throat tight.

Andean nodded, answering some unstated internal question. He fished around in a bag strapped to his side, one just beside the meters-long broadsword sheathed along his flank. He produced a small metallic object and held it out.

Martial took the offered device. A weapon, like a miniaturized volleygun. Thought the main body was crafted from Griffon Wootz Steel, the handle was polished wood. The barrel of the weapon rotated around a center pin, with four openings facing forward. The entire thing fit comfortably in the palm of his talon.

“We call it a Turner Thirty-Eight—to honor A.K. Yearling’s fallen friend.” Andean Ursagryph’s voice took on a low rumble as he continued. “He pioneered the use of multiple rounds before a reload was required. This holds four shots at a time. To ready the next, merely rotate the barrel ninety degrees.” He then handed Martial a smaller bag, this one holding rounds and sparkpowder. “Princess Luna will know how to contact me if you run out.”

Martial couldn’t look away from the gift. He barely found the breath to speak. “You knew you’d see me today.”

“I had hoped to see you during our meeting this afternoon, but you had other matters to attend to.” Andean lifted his heft from the ground. He backed up a few steps, nodding to Crested Barbary. The Captain of the Praetorian Guard lifted a talon, and the Blitzwings vanished one by one out the door. Andean regarded Martial with a bow at the neck. “Your father misses you.”

“And I miss him.” Martial tucked the turner and the ammo bag into his belt. He furrowed his brow and half-spread his wings, uncertain of what else to say. “Stella and Corona must have grown quite a bit, haven’t they?”

“Aye. As have you.” Andean ground his beak lightly. He briefly held it shut with a talon before adding: “As have I.”

He paused a moment longer, his ears drooping, before he found the strength to speak again. “I hope this aids you in some way. In any way. It is what my Fayr would have wanted for you, given the circumstances.”

Martial toyed with the hilt of his rapier. “Aunt Fayr was always the best of us.”

“Your father said as much.” He prowled softly through the gala, to avoid tripping over ponies or knocking over tables. “I’ll trouble you no longer.”

Martial Paw stood alone between the pillars of the ballroom. He held a talon to his chest to slow his heartbeat. Tears threatened to burst forth anew. From the rejection, from the meeting with his uncle, and from some as yet unremembered pain. The ever-present ache would not go away, and he had no idea how he might heal it. Where to even start?

A reddish-orange hoof tapped his shoulder. He glanced down to see a unicorn mare in a soldier’s dress uniform. She bobbed her head in greeting and spoke just above the soft themes played by the quartet. “Martial Paw, Dr. Yearling wants us to meet her in her guest room at the castle. We have some things to go over before we head out tomorrow.”

He nodded with all the strength and certainty of a wet noodle. His voice was a painful croak. “Captain Carrot, I presume.”

“That would be me, yeah.”

“The pleasure’s mine.” The edges of his beak scraped against each other as he examined the middle-distance. “Tell her I’ll be along in a moment.”

“Alright.” Care called over her shoulder as she trotted away. “See you there!”

“I would say so,” Martial said, grabbing a confection from Andean’s abandoned dessert tray. “I would say so.”

The Vacuity of Razzmatazz

The tunnel through the cavern wall lay choked with rock dust as the enslaved ponies trudged through their workday. Painted Ones watched from ledges, their eyes keen to spot any worker who slowed down or stumbled. The workers would not disobey, not without their hearts, but a pony without a soul required a more physical form of motivation. A prod with an enchanted spear here, a kick to the rump there, and a body bereft of equinity would work until it dropped from exhaustion.

Dissero walked between the lesser ponies as he made his way to the end of the tunnel. He reached beneath his cloak with a spindly foreleg and dipped his hoof into a cup of elixir. It came forth as dye, which he used to draw designs into his worn coat. Every spot the paint touched—every pore and follicle and muscle—filled with youthful vigor. Still, the dye faded faster than ever, and the strength waned even quicker. Dissero was dying. He felt it in the feebleness in his bones. He heard it in the pounding of his head and the grumbling of overtaxed internal organs. His time was coming quickly.

But today, if what his underlings said was true, that would change. After two-hundred years of service to his god, his fate would finally change.

He pulled his cloak firmly over his head to hide his shame. He fixed a strong Painted One with a stern glare. “Show me the opening.”

“Dissero,” the earth pony said, “the pegasus girl broke through this morning. A rock fell and wounded her leg, so we have returned her to the cave.”

“It is of no consequence.” Dissero brushed the Painted One aside and came to the opening the underling had spoken of. He peered through and only saw darkness. And yet, it was an open darkness; a direct hole into an antechamber previously unseen. Was it the one they were looking for? It could only be so. They were directly underneath the Everfree Forest. “Leave her be and cause the others to press on.”

The Painted One shifted. The red paint on his torso rippled, while the green paint on his limbs shimmered. “Elder… Ahuzotl’s specific orders were that no harm should come to her. One of our number allowed the rock to fall, and he should pay the price.”

Dissero felt a brief flash of hatred for the order. No harm to the pegasus? She was an example of everything wrong with the world. Privilege and prosperity, given to those born into blessings. One who had seen nothing but gifts poured down upon her since birth. One who flew through the clouds with stars in her eyes, never to feel the mire and silt of hardship and pain. One who had never felt truth stain her pristine hooves.

He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. Ahuizotl’s wisdom was infinite. The god was beyond Dissero’s limited knowledge. There was a reason for keeping the pegasus—no—the tool alive. Just as the unicorn’s purpose was to unite the hearts, the pegasus also had a reason for living. And because Ahuizotl’s will had been violated by a careless action…

“Bring him to the pit.”

The Painted One bowed at the neck and left in a rush. Dissero plodded his way back down the tunnel, his purple cape over his mouth to protect his lungs from the residue. The watchers urged the slaves into a frenzy of swinging hammers and clanging chisels. His heart pounded in his chest, desperately trying to keep up with his slow pace. It was barely a hundred meters of travel. A young pony would have no problem jogging up and down the way with impunity.

He came to the pit in a matter of minutes. The others were already waiting beside the seemingly bottomless shaft into darkness. Dissero allowed himself a rising sense of satisfaction. He knew what was down there. He knew the triumph that awaited Ahuizotl and the destruction it heralded for Equestria. It only awaited one thing to be fully activated: Ready and willing hearts.

If only they could dig it out!

Three Painted Ones restrained a fourth pony beside the deadly drop. The disobedient one was just as burly and muscled as the others, though he lacked the signature enchanted dye of the Painted Ones. Dissero stopped before him, eyeing him up and down. Disappointment flooded his chest. This was one of the more promising acolytes. Smart, quick, athletic, unwaveringly devoted. Unwavering, that is, save for his inexcusable error.

“Who is your god, Painted One?” Dissero said.

“It is Ahuizotl!” The disobedient said. “It is only ever Ahuizotl!”

“Ahuizotl will not reside in the presence of disobedience.” Dissero tilted his head. “In allowing harm to come to the orange pegasus, you have brought shame upon the almighty.”

“I did not!” The pony’s eyes widened in sheer animal terror. He had seen this ceremony before. He knew what awaited. “I wasn’t even nearby when the rock fell! How could I have known?”

“You were her taskmaster. Her care was your responsibility.” Dissero narrowed his eyes. “In failing to protect her, you have denied the wisdom of the word of Ahuizotl and rejected his sovereignty. Had you trust in your god, you would not have failed.”

“Please!” The pony leapt and bucked, but the others would not release him. “I just need another chance! I will never fail Ahuizotl again!”

“That—” Dissero allowed himself a tight smile. “—is very true.”

Another Painted One walked up to the edge, pushing a tub of red liquid. A large concentration of dye, created from a brew of special plants and crushed crystals, oozing with magical power. Dissero’s skin tingled from his very proximity to it. Far more than necessary to power twenty Painted Ones, let alone one.

The Painted Ones shoved the disobedient one up to the edge of the pit, nearly knocking him in. He teetered on the edge, but clung to life as desperately as he could. He was met with enchanted spears that held him in place with a hum of energy.

Dissero dipped his hoof into the dye and reached out. With the disobedient one pinned, he was free to draw a large “X” shape across his chest. “The heart produces magic…”

The Painted Ones around him recited: “The Painted Ones bleed magic.”

Dissero covered the pony’s eyes next. “The fairy strings channel magic.”

“The Painted Ones gush with magic.”

Each limb received a stripe. Beneath the pony’s skin, Dissero saw his muscles tightening and convulsing as they received far more magic at once than they could handle. “The body released magic.”

“The Painted Ones hoard magic.”

The dye glowed like a hot iron. The unfortunate pony bit his tongue in an effort to hold back his pain. He jolted, and his foreleg brushed against the blade of a spear.

Dissero picked up the bowl of red paint. “Let the world know that magic belongs to the earth, and earth to the Painted Ones.”

The Painted Ones slammed the butts of their spears against the ground. “Let the earth tremble!”

Dissero doused the disobedient one in the dye. The paint coated his entire body. Magic rushed through his veins on a collision course with his heart. If Dissero looked closely, he could see the fairy strings glowing a faint gold beneath the fiery blaze of untamed magic.

The pony fell backwards into the pit. A moment of silence came, followed by a single ear-splitting snap as the magic within him combusted.

“The will of Ahuizotl is infallible,” Dissero said, “and failure is inexcusable.”

Pain shot up his leg as the dye soaked in. He stumbled, and was caught by the Painted One beside him. The acolyte brought their mouth to his ear. “Dissero, Ahuizotl has called you to the audience chamber.”

Dissero nodded and regained his balance. No doubt Ahuizotl wished to speak of the literal breakthrough in the tunnel. That, combined with the treasures found in the pit, would seal their victory and bring to fruition the complete will of Ahuizotl. Dissero was sure of it.

At long last. At long, long last.

He made his ponderous way to the audience chamber. They had named it so due to the stone throne and smooth altar that lay in the center of the circular room. It seemed officious enough, at the least. Officious enough that the previous owners of the caverns may have used it similarly.

Ahuizotl waited for him astride the throne, which remained a few sizes too small for him. Also in attendance was the unworthy Caballeron, who slouched in his usual skulking manner, his hat low over his eyes. He and Dissero sent fiery glares at each other.

Dissero waited his turn to speak, intensely aware of Ahuizotl’s dislike for being interrupted. Intensely, intimately aware.

“Dissero,” Ahuizotl breathed. “You bring me good news.”

Dissero breathed a small sigh of relief that the news was indeed good, as Ahuizotl would little appreciate any other sort. “The breakthrough had been made. We found the antechamber.”

“Excellent!” Ahuizotl snapped the fingers on his tail. “Just where Dr. Caballeron said it would be! You have served me well, Doctor.”

Dissero puckered his lips in an aged, practiced sneer. Praise for the unworthy. Honor for the unbeliever. Wretched as he was.

“Which leaves the one last thing we need.” Ahuizotl leaned forward in his throne, his paws grasping the armrests tight. “Did you see it? Did you catch a glimmer of the Sun Device?”

“There is nothing to see until we widen the hole and allow light to enter the chamber.” Dissero bowed his head, partially to avoid the intensity of Ahuizotl’s eyes. “This will require more time.”

Ahuizotl’s tone was as hot as his breath. “How long?”

“A couple days, at least,” Caballeron said. “Or longer, since you insist on using workers unable to think for themselves.”

“Oh, they think well enough.” Ahuizotl danced his claws before Caballeron’s face. The grizzled earth pony moved back a step to avoid the razor-sharp edges. “But to care enough, they may need more…” He turned his eyes to Dissero atop a wide grin. “Persuasion.”

“It shall be so, Almighty Ahuizotl.” Dissero would have said more, but he stopped short. Something in his chest sparked. Something in his limbs gave way to weakness. A dizzy spell. Occurring with alarming frequency. Difficult to deal with. Hard to ignore.

The looming presence of Ahuizotl cast a shadow over Dissero’s aching body. The brilliant yellow eyes shone bright in the torchlight. “Dissero. You seem distressed.”

Caballeron rushed to Dissero and pressed a shoulder against his side to prop him up. He looked into one of Dissero’s eyes and pressed a hoof against his neck. “I think he’s having a heart attack.”

“Ahuizotl…” Dissero’s voice was distant in his own ears. “You promised me… eternity…”

Ahuizotl narrowed his eyes. He leaned close enough that the rotted scent of flesh could be smelt on his breath. “I always keep my promises, Dissero. Especially to those who serve me faithfully.”

“Then please—” The world swam before Dissero’s vision, which clouded at the edges. Darkness crept ever closer as he proceeded on his way to oblivion. “—please be my salvation…”

Ahuizotl’s snaking tail slithered to his back, where he drew the Spade of Hearts. Caballeron turned wide eyes upon its curved bronzed blade and stag-antler hilt. “What do you think you’re doing? It’s a heart-attack!”

“Though the body may fail, the soul yet carries on.” Ahuizotl ran a claw over the edge of the blade. The air sung with the sound of metal against bone. “In one form or another.”

Dissero’s eyes closed for the final time. “Ahuizotl…”

Ahuizotl plunged the dagger into Dissero’s chest. Magic flashed and ignited the air with purple and green fire. Ahuizotl reached in and easily retrieved a glistening heart-shaped crystal. Dissero slumped to the ground with nary a peep left within him.

The world was empty and cold. His limbs failed completely. Light was meaningless and touch a distant memory. All that was left was himself, floating in an endless void yet fully chained to the crystal in Ahuizotl’s palm. The heart pulsated, crying for help, speaking without words. The god of the Painted Ones smiled, holding the trinket aloft.

“Now shedding your feeble, aged hide
Every divot and wrinkle denied
To reveal what is truly inside
As your master becomes deified!”

He kicked Dissero’s body into the watery pathway, where it sank soundlessly, lifelessly to the depths. He leaped onto the altar and raised the Spade in a display of power and victory.

“That!
Is the price!
Of a god!”

At the edge of Dissero’s awareness, he sensed the unworthy earth pony speaking. “What are you going to do with him?”

Ahuizotl flicked a paw at him. “See to it that the workers proceed at the swiftest possible pace. I know you have a great deal of expertise in excavation, if only by the holes you dig yourself into.” He prowled to the pool as he slid his dagger into its sheath. “I shall be in the pit, choosing a suitable vessel to carry the soul of Dissero.”

Ahuizotl pointed with his tail’s index finger. “And Doctor: Don’t keep me waiting.”

He dove into the water, and the rest was darkness.

***

Button Mash tapped a hoof as he waited beside the door to A.K. Yearling’s guest room. He craned his neck back to take in the sights of the castle. Tapestries taller than any building back home. Stained glass windows designed to capture the light of the sun and the moon. Gold rimmed, marble pillars to carry the weight of the roof and upper floors. Smooth tiles he could see himself perfectly in. It was brilliantly beautiful in a way wholly removed, yet just as regal, as Twilight Sparkle’s castle.

He hadn’t seen the inside of that one much, come to think of it. But the outside was gorgeous.

“Y’all gonna catch flies with your mouth open like that.”

He was pulled from his reverie by the melodically jesting voice of Apple Bloom. He gave her a shrug and a half-smile. “Can’t help it. I’ve never been inside the castle before.”

“Have so!” Apple Bloom pulled her foreleg away from Spike, who was dozing a few steps down the hall. “Cheerilee took the third grade on a field trip that one time. Just before Discord returned and stuff.”

With that, the memory clicked in Button’s head. “Oh. Yeah, guess you’re right. That was—what?—ten years ago?”

“More’n that. It was before Spike’s brother got hitched.” Apple Bloom took a moment to admire the craftsmanship in the castle, giving a particular banister an approving nod. “I guess they’ve done renovations in light of the attack. Prettied the place up a bit.”

Button Mash glanced the other way down the hall. Rumble stood watch for Dr. Yearling, his ears perked and twisted backward to listen to the conversation. He’d chip in if he had a worthwhile thought. He always did. Care Carrot was nowhere to be seen, as she’d been for the last hour.

“Dunno if I’d recognize the difference between then and now,” Button said. “They’re both pretty breathtaking.”

“That’s a fair thing to say.” Apple Bloom almost said something else, but the words caught in her throat. She let out a tiny “ahem” before she continued, her eyes anywhere but on Button. “Sooooo… I heard you an’ Sweetie went on a date.”

“I’m pretty sure everybody’s heard that by now,” Button said, his voice low so as not to carry. “Heck, I’ll bet Princess Celestia’s had the heralds bring the news to Tartarus.”

“Funny. But seriously, though.” Apple Bloom leaned forward, her eyebrows level. “Didja guys have a good time? Any tearful declarations of love, or inopportune proposals, or confrontations with old rivals? Or do those things just happen to Scootaloo?”

“I resemble that remark!” Rumble said.

“Whatever. I just—” Apple Bloom held her hooves up before Button could speak. “You know what? I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I just wanna…” She let her hooves drop and sighed. “Just wanna see my friends happy, you know?”

Button Mash smiled. He shook his head, holding empty hooves outward. “I can only tell you what she told me. She said she had a great time and wanted to do it again. So I guess I didn’t screw it up too bad.”

“Good.” Apple Bloom bobbed her head, casting a glance at Spike as the dragon snored. “Good. I’m glad she had fun. And you deserve some happiness, too. You’re a pretty neat guy; what with your songs and puppet shows and such.”

Button Mash unbuttoned his suit jacket, wishing for all the world to be rid of the formal wear. “Eh. I don’t always feel neat.”

“You’re too down on yourself, colt!” Apple Bloom slapped a mighty hoof against the shiny floor, leaving behind a scuff mark. “Look at where you are, who you’re with, an’ what you’re about to do. Go on and try to tell me you’re anything less than awesome!”

“What she’s saying, Button,” Rumble said, “is that you need some horseapples-encrusted self-awareness.”

“Language,” Spike muttered.

Rumble leaned his head back, but didn’t turn away from the hall. “Love you, too, bro.”

Button tried and failed to hold back his grin. He jumped when Apple Bloom chucked him in the shoulder.

“Buck up,” she said. She returned to Spike’s side with a quick trot, her head held high. “‘We’re going on a dive through danger,’ remember? I figure you’ve gotta be more than razzmatazz an’ hooey.”

Button Mash settled his back against the door, crossing his forelegs over his chest. “Razzmatazz carries my plays.”

Apple Bloom settled down, smoothing out the edge of her dress. “It don’t carry them alone.”

Rumble shifted his stance, his ears facing forward. “I hear them. Meeting’s about to start.”

Button Mash leaned forward to see around the corner. A.K. Yearling walked slowly down the hall, whispering to Lord Mayor Applejack. He could just make out that they were talking about Rainbow Dash, but had no way of knowing the details. Applejack doffed her hat and cantered away, leaving the doctor to make the last few steps to her waiting audience.

A.K. Yearling didn’t quite fit the mental picture Button made for her. Honestly, she didn’t even fit the picture of a little old lady found in the inside cover of her books. She looked a great deal younger without the oversized spectacles and ridiculous flower hat. Stronger, too, having muscle bulk that rivaled Applejack. The wings still seemed tiny, but he figured on that being an optical illusion.

Definitely not the scrawny, bookish author she masqueraded as.

She cast lidded eyes upon them, and allowed her frown to deepen. “So you’re the guys Carrot invited, huh?”

Rumble snapped to attention and threw a sharp salute. “Pony-at-arms Rumble, at your service, ma’am!”

Spike blinked himself awake and sat up. “Hi, Aunt Yearling. Good to see you.”

Yearling’s frown vanished like smoke on the wind. She gave the young dragon a warm smile and beckoned him closer. “Come here and give old Aunty Yearling a hug.”

Spike’s embrace was light, yet sincere. Yearling held nothing back, squeezing him with all the considerable strength in her forelegs. “Geeze, Spike!” she said. “I think you about doubled in size since I last saw you! B’fore you know it, you’re gonna be a full-scale volcano lizard!”

“I’ve only grown twenty-five millimeters,” he said, his cheeks glowing pink. He backed away and held a hand out for Apple Bloom. “Aunt Yearling, I’d very much like to introduce you to my girlfriend: Apple Bloom. Apple Bloom, this is my mom’s best friend: Amber Kestrel Yearling.”

Apple Bloom smiled as she and Yearling shared a hoofbump. “Pleasure’s all mine, Dr. Yearling. Can I just say how much I love your books?”

“Haven’t gotten tired of hearing it yet.” Yearling dropped the smile like a ton of bricks as she stared straight into Apple Bloom’s eyes. “You break his heart, I break your nose.”

Spike choked on his own spit, but Apple Bloom sent him a wink. “I recall Big Mac tellin’ you the same thing. I think we’re even.”

“Big Mac never said that.”

“I’m sure he was thinkin’ it.”

Yearling ran a hoof through her grayscale mane. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but I was helping Rarity and Applejack track down Rainbow. She figured out about Scootaloo, and… yeah. So they’re gonna talk with her.”

Spike nodded, his hand finding Apple Bloom’s hoof. “I figured something like that would happen.”

His ear twitched and he shuffled sideways to indicate Button Mash, who had gotten to his feet. “This is my buddy Button Mash. He’s had firefighter training, so he’s volunteered to help with any medical we might need.”

Yearling looked Button up and down, her eyes narrow and scrutinizing. She tapped his chest, right atop a long, white mark. “Scar looks fresh. When’d you get it?”

“Uh.” Button Mash pressed his lips together. “Earlier this week. When Caballeron kidnapped Sweetie and Scootaloo.”

“Yeah, checks out. Looks like his spurs.” Yearling wrinkled her nose. “You’re on your feet awful quick.”

“Ambrosia’s pretty awesome.”

“’Kay.” She spun in a tight circle and nodded to each pony in turn. “Alright, I trust Carrot not to be an idiot about this kinda thing, so welcome aboard. She and Blankety are on their way, and Marty’s not gonna be far behind.”

Button Mash’s cheeks heated up as he moved aside to allow her access to the door. He tapped a hoof to blow off some nervous energy. His mind went blank. He had wanted to say something, right? Say something to the most popular author in the world? “I, uh, I also like your books.”

“I like your taste.” She swept the door open and indicated the room with a hoof. “Step right this-a-way to the hall of miracles. Tickets: Fifty bits. You must me this tall to ride.”

“Wait up!”

Button’s ears caught the voice before he saw the source. Captain Care Carrot and a white-coated, white-maned stallion hustled down the hall. Rainbow’s griffon friend hovered overhead in the airways outlined throughout the castle’s hallways.

The eight of them scrambled into the room, and the door closed firmly behind them.

Spike and Apple Bloom monopolized a small settee beneath the window to the courtyard, but skootched over to let Captain Carrot sit beside Spike. The white stallion curled up at the foot of Yearling’s bed. Rumble plopped himself into a chair from the kitchenette’s two-seater table. Button Mash took the other chair, and found himself beside the brooding griffon. He shivered as he looked at the creature, from his sharp claws, to his dangerous beak, to his threatening size. Of anybody in the room, only Apple Bloom could look him in the eye.

“So…” Button pointed. “You’re Hershel, right?”

The griffon clicked his beak. “Martial.”

“Sorry. Sorry.” Button leaned back in his chair. It creaked, bringing all eyes in the room to him. He resigned himself to not moving for the rest of the meeting.

A.K. Yearling paced around the center of the room, yanking her shawl off of her shoulders. “Okay, first thing’s first. You’ve all earned need-to-know privileges.” She closed her eyes and placed a hoof on her chest, a tiny smile peeking through. “My real name is Daring Do.”

Rumble sniggered, bringing all the attention in the room down upon him. Button’s mouth scrunched up. Half of him wanted to join in the laugh, and the other half was deathly afraid of making a fool of himself.

Daring stuffed a hoof against Rumble’s mouth, and Button thanked the Creator for wisdom. “Yeah, cute isn’t it?” she said. “Now shaddap and let’s get the ball moving. I don’t have time to explain, so just go with it, Pony-at-arms.”

She pulled a notebook out of a satchel hanging from her bedpost. She flipped through her pages, her mouth moving as she read, until she found what she was looking for. “Way I hear it, Caballeron kidnapped two mares from Ponyville Wednesday night, and they’ve not been heard from since. The only real lead we have is something we found in Dodge Junction in one of Caballeron’s warehouses.”

She showed them a picture, showcasing a large glass with intricate carving and gemwork. “The Griffon’s Goblet, previously in the possession of Ahuizotl.”

Button Mash blinked. He shook his head to clear out the cobwebs. “What?”

“Try to keep up, Mash.” Daring Do gave Martial a cocked eyebrow. “Long story short, the hunt for Ahuizotl is back on.”

“Good.” Martial hunched over, covering himself with his wings. He held his sword by the hilt and used it to prop up his chin. “That’s good.”

Button Mash and Rumble shared a glance. Rumble’s face was a perfect mirror to the confusion jumbling Button’s thoughts. “Ahuizotl is real?”

“Like I said, try to keep up.” She tossed the notebook across the room and missed the satchel completely. Blankety Blank reached over and tucked it safely away. “So in order to track him down, we’ve got to move one step ahead of him. The guy’s been looking up changeling memorabilia for a few years, now, hunting down the ancient changeling cities. He found the one in the Northern Equestrian Wastes right before we did. We’re gonna find the others and set a trap.”

Spike raised a hand. “What if he goes to a different one? Or he’s already there? We could miss him by miles.”

“Aha!” Daring Do grinned and stuffed her head in the satchel to root around. She pulled a map out of the depths and showed it to the gathering. “Simple answer: He doesn’t have a whole lot of places to go!”

Button Mash squinted at the map. One edge looked like the coast of Equestria, a little bit. Three dots sat on the map, several hundred miles from each other. “There’s three ancient cities?”

“Precisely. Only three.” Daring held the map in the side of her mouth and pointed to the top. “He’s already cleared out the north city. We’ll head to the south city and see if we can’t snuff him out there.”

Button’s ears lay down on his head. “What if he goes to the east city?”

“He can’t,” Martial Paw said, sending a cold snap down Button’s spine. “It’s in the heart of Felaccia. There’s no way he’d be able to take his cult on a raft across the ocean. Let alone find what he was looking for before being utterly destroyed by the griffon armies.”

Apple Bloom leaned in her seat, nearly sending the settee toppling. She sent an apologetic grin to Spike and Care. “Sorry. I’m just curious. What’s Ahuizotl want with the changeling cities? And with Sweetie and Scoots?”

Daring was about to speak, but Blankety cut her off. He rubbed his foreleg as he stood. “Th-the changeling cities hold devices. Mechanical ones. He could use them to build an army strong enough to fight against Equestria. Th—there’s that and…” He swallowed hard. “Long ag-go, changelings ruled the world. They u-used a special machine to raise the sun and moon. Ahuizotl wants control of that.”

“What? Whoa.” Rumble’s wings snapped out as his jaw dropped. “Can he actually do that?”

“He will if we don’t stop him.” Daring Do hopped onto her bed and kicked a pith helmet laying in the center. It tumbled through the air until it landed perfectly on her head. “We’re headed back to the palace of the Royal Pony Sisters tomorrow morning. We’re gonna triangulate the location of the second city or my name isn’t Daring Do.”

Button Mash’s eyes drifted over to the map Blankety was putting away in her satchel. “Is that where you got the map? Inside the princess’ old library?”

“More or less.” Daring Do stretched out her left wing with a wince. It moved with tiny, painful movements, like a hinge without oil. She swore under her breath and brought it back against her side. “You’re all welcome to stay here, unless you’ve got guest rooms around the castle. I think you’ve got one, Spike, if you and Apple Bloom wanna shuffle off.”

“Uh—” Spike’s tongue appeared to tangle itself among his teeth.

“I think I’ll be sticking to this room, thanks,” Apple Bloom said. She kissed Spike’s cheek. “Ponies cast enough aspirations as it is.”

Button’s eyes caught on Care Carrot, who stared at Apple Bloom with lowered eyebrows. She shuffled stiffly aside, leaving a small gap between her hip and Spike’s.

Spike stood up, and the tension vanished. “I’ll take the dudes to my room. There’s plenty of places to bunk. You coming with, Mr. Martial? Blankety?”

“I h-have my own room, actually,” Blankety Blank said. “I lived at the p-palace for several years, and they never gave my room away.”

Martial blew a breath through his nostrils. He pushed down on his sword’s scabbard to help him to his paws. “I haven’t anywhere else to be.”

Daring stopped him with a hoof. “You wanna talk about it?”

“No.” He moved past her and lashed his scabbard to his belt. He paused at the door and shook his head. “Thank you, but no.”

“Hold on.” Blankety Blank spoke before Martial could turn the handle. “Since you all have need-to-know access, I’m a changeling.”

At the deafening silence from Apple Bloom, Rumble, and Button, he continued, “A good changeling.”

Rumble let out a low, stuttering giggle. He waved a wing at Martial. “Hey Marty, you got any earth-shattering revelations?”

Martial glanced between Daring and Blank, then smiled a grim, predatory smile. “I’m King Andean Usagryph’s estranged nephew.”

Spike hopped to four legs and skittered across the floor. “Come on, Rumble. Button. We’ve gotta hit the hay and get enough sleep to wake up for Sunday Sunrise Service.”

Button Mash cast one last look around the room of Daring Do, then followed the soldier, the dragon, the griffon, and the changeling out. What could he make of all that? Ahuizotl? He thought Caballeron was far-fetched, let alone everything else he’d heard. Changeling cities? Sun devices? What the hay had he gotten himself into?

Spike touched his shoulder. He jumped, letting out a little yip of thought-train derailment. He grinned as best as he was able, but stopped when he realized it wasn’t the least bit joyful. “What’s up, Spike?”

“You’ll be fine,” Spike said. “You’ll do great. Just give things a bit to settle in.”

Rumble slowed his pace enough to pull alongside the both of them. “Settle in? You can’t throw names around like ‘Daring Do’ and ‘Ahuizotl’ and tell us we’ll settle in. We demand explanations! Revelations!”

“Aunt Yearling’s novels are almost autobiographical. Almost.” Spike brought their heads closer together, walking on his hind legs to maintain his grip. “Just figure that everything you read really happened, besides the stuff she edits out for the sake of national security.”

After a moment’s thought, he added, “And keeping a family-friendly rating.”

Button watched Martial Paw lazily drift along through the airways. Blankety had vanished down another hall a few steps ago. “I wasn’t expecting that we’d have to go up against a literal world-ending threat, Spike.”

“You won’t.” Spike hugged them around the necks. “We’re gonna rescue Sweetie and Scootaloo. We’ll leave the villain-destroying to the experts. Trust me; this is gonna be a great character-building moment for you guys.”

Button felt the corner of his mouth tilt up. For real this time. “Said the invincible dragon to his squishy pony friends.”

“Come on, we’ll get you some riot armor.” Spike chuckled and released them. “That stuff doesn’t take any training to use. It’s just a deflector shield that covers your body. You’ll be fine. Stops swords, arrows, medium-to-moderate spells, and generally puts a pep in your step.”

“Oh gee,” Rumble said, his voice flat. “Can’t imagine why he was ever worried.”

Button’s smile grew a bit. He shoved Rumble’s shoulder, but never so much as budged the stallion himself. “Says the guy decked out in full combat armor, complete with a Royal Guard-issued spear. I’m hiding behind you when we run face-first into Ahuizotl.”

He looked up to the gray-flecked wings of the griffon. “Hay, Martial! Have you ever fought Ahuizotl?”

Martial Paw dipped lower, his eyes dark and red around the edges. He nodded to each of them, one after the other. “Oh yes. I’ve seen him several times. And each time, it was when we were running away from him as fast as we could.”

“Yep, there it is.” Rumble licked his lips as Martial returned to the air. “That’s what I was looking for.”

“What?” Button asked.

“The other horseshoe dropped.”

***

Apple Bloom tied her mane in a tight bundle and slipped into her sleeping bag. Daring Do was already snoring up a storm in her bed, while Care was still finishing up in the bathroom. The sound of a toothbrush rasping back and forth tickled the edges of Bloom’s ears. She laid them against the top of her head to muffle the little annoyance.

Captain Carrot was gorgeous, and Apple Bloom had no other word to describe it. The mare walked out of the bathroom with smooth, even motions. Her curves trailed gracefully with ever step. Her wavy green locks seemed to dance on command.

Contrast that with Bloom’s yarn-like mop of a mane, her broad shoulders, and her chipped hooves…

Apple Bloom buried her nose in the pillow and grumbled. Just like an Apple to get jealous. Just like an Apple to get stubborn about it, too. Maybe she needed to clear the air a bit.

“You like Spike, don’tcha?” she said, and instantly regretted it. Less an icebreaker than a sledgehammer, wasn’t it?

Care snapped her head towards Bloom, a look of slight panic in her eyes. After a moment, the panic cooled off and left behind a sincere smile. “Yeah. I like him a lot. I’d… I’d say he was one of my first real friends.”

She laughed and placed her toothbrush in her suitcase, off to one side to keep it away from the body brush. “I kinda figured it was fate when I found out his Power Ponies Comic collection rivaled mine.”

Apple Bloom rolled onto her back and let her legs dangle in the air. “You two really nerd it up, huh?”

“Not the words I’d use.” Care shrugged on a fuzzy pair of pajamas and lay down on a folding cot. “And there’s more than that, really. I owe him—well, I owe him my life.”

Apple Bloom raised her head and lowered her eyebrows. “Really?”

“When the castle was attacked by Hurricane’s goons.” Care lay on her right side to face Apple Bloom. “I was fighting a losing battle against a real bruiser. The guy had a volleygun to my chest and was ready to fire.” She grasped the side of the cot and pulled it away from her muzzle. “Spike jumped out of nowhere and took the bullet for me. Took care of the thug pretty fast, too. I’m never gonna forget what Spike did.”

Apple Bloom furrowed her brow. Took a bullet? And he’d never talked about it? “I guess that—”

She was about to say “explains the scar on his chest,” but didn’t want to reveal she didn’t know about the event. Like, at all. “—that would be pretty unforgettable.”

Care played with the edge of the cot, pinching the elastic with her hooves. “Look… I gotta admit, I’m kinda jealous of how close you two are. I hadn’t seen Spike for a year before all this happened.”

Apple Bloom skewed her mouth to the side. “That tends to happen when you’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Touché.” Care rubbed the back of her neck. “You gotta be a pretty awesome person yourself. I mean, Spike’s girlfriend and Applejack’s little sister? There’s a killer combo if I ever saw one. What do you do?”

“I do handiwork around town,” Apple Bloom said quietly. “I’m an apprentice potionmaker, too.”

“Working with Zecora?”

“You know her?”

“Only by reputation.” Care was quiet for a dozen or so heartbeats. She leaned a little over the side and grinned. “I kinda gotta laugh when I see how cuckoo you two are for each other. Spike literally fell over himself when you showed up at the train station.”

“Yeah.” Apple Bloom closed her eyes and could almost feel Spike’s warm hands holding her hooves. “Head over heels. Reach for the stars over the fence. Smile lights up the whole room. That kinda thing.”

“Cool.” Care lay back and stared at the ceiling. “I always kinda wanted a boyfriend. Never found anybody worth the trouble. My dreams of getting married before I’m thirty sorta drift further away every day.”

Apple Bloom snorted and covered her eyes with a foreleg. “The way things are going, I’m lucky to get married before I’m ninety.”

She heard Care shift her weight on the cot and realized she’d probably said the wrong thing. “I kinda figured on Spike being the committing type,” she said.

“He is and I’d say yes in a heartbeat, but—” Apple Bloom stopped her rush of words before they could jumble the air further and make the conversation even more awkward. Then the next words did so regardless. “It’s just that dragons and ponies aren’t, you know, biologically compatible, and… and…”

Friggin’ motor mouth.

The silence was so thick Apple Bloom could have bucked the apples right off of it. She was about to say something just to break the spell, but Care filled the gap. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“I’m sorry for spillin’ it on yah.” Apple Bloom rolled over to face the starry sky in the window. “Ain’t your burden to bear.”

“Maybe you’re tired of bearing it on your own?”

Apple Bloom didn’t know what to say to that. She pulled the sleeping bag up to her neck.

The cot squeaked as Care got comfortable. “When I was a teen, I complained to my dad about how much I disliked farming. He told me I should learn to be happy with where I’m at. Bloom where I’m planted.” There was a hum of magic as Care laid a blanket over her body. “He said if I do that, eventually my roots will be deep enough to reach everything I really need.”

Apple Bloom sighed. “How’d that turn out?”

Care snorted. “A couple years later, I left to join the Royal Guard.”

“Oh.”

“I was kinda a little brat about it, but I don’t regret joining.” Care yawned wide, muttering to herself as she checked the clock. “I’ve mellowed out a lot, and my family’s proud of me. I’ve learned a lot about family from Spike, and Velvet, and Princess Celestia…”

Apple Bloom flicked an ear. “And saved Equestria once or twice, to boot.”

“Once,” Care said. “Just once. I had help.”

She shuffled once more, dimmed the lights, and yawned again for good measure. “Long story short, keep holding on. Don’t give up just yet.”

Apple Bloom shut her eyes tight. “I won’t.”

***

Button Mash lay on the floor, with his sleeping bag flap draped over his head. Rumble had passed out in the armchair, and Spike occupied the rounded bed he called a “nest.” Martial was perched on the balcony, behind the closed windows, looking out over the city of Canterlot with a quiet vigil.

Button Mash tilted the magical control strapped to his hoof. His earth pony magic thrummed from his heart to his hooves through his fairy strings. The magic entered the controller, and from there, leapt to the marionette that danced a half-meter away. The puppet of River moved with carefully-choreographed motions, waltzing without a partner, the glimmering Element of Magic flashing purple atop her head. The first Bearer of the Elements of Harmony gave him a bow, then curled up beside his bag.

He unclasped the controller and laid it beside the facsimile pony. He regarded River with quiet respect. The mare had been tossed in over her head almost immediately. The Unseelie Court destroyed her town. Captured her family. Turned her world upside down.

But the instant she had the chance to take action, she did so with gusto.

“I’m about to embark on a journey of life and death,” he whispered. “Not only mine, but a lot of other peoples’, too. I’m trying to follow your example, but I’m still so scared.”

He saw Martial in the window, but he looked past the glowering griffon. He saw the stars peer out from behind the clouds. A touch of warmth entered his heart. Just a touch. “Give me the courage of River. Please, just this once. Let me help them. Let me be a blessing to them, not a burden.”

He pulled the covers over his head and closed his eyes. “Let me be the stallion you created me to be.”

The Whispered Message

Queen Chrysalis II tiptoed to the large double-doors of Princess Celestia’s personal chambers. Two guardsponies stood at attention in front of the door, spears held loosely at their sides. They snapped to attention as she loomed into view.

“Your Majesty,” one said. “Can we help you?”

Chrysalis paused, her eyes wide. Words failed her completely. She knew what she wanted to say, but not much about how to say it. She honestly had hoped to catch Celestia so she didn’t have to explain it to anybody else. “C-can I—?”

When she didn’t continue, the other guard cleared his throat. “Would you like me to let Princess Celestia know you wish to see her?”

Chrysalis nodded and took a seat in the middle of the hallway.

Sturm; that was the guard’s name. Sturm gave his partner a glance and slipped into the room. Drang, the other guard, gave her a smile that seemed sincere enough. Sturm reemerged a moment later and took up his stance beside the door. “Princess Celestia would like you to enter.”

“Thanks.” Chrysalis nearly tripped on her own hooves as she got to her feet. She gave them both a shallow bow and stepped through the door, closing it softly behind her. She continue with careful caution, silently taking in the sights of Princess Celestia’s personal chambers.

The fire burned bright in the hearth, which sat nearby a glass door to a balcony. Most bedrooms in the castle had some sort of balcony, it seemed. The walls were smooth white, just a touch below glossy, with pictures and paintings of ponies hung here and there. A small wood table held a bust as a centerpiece. Flower pots and hanging baskets dotted the edges of the room—some holding colorful flowers, others aromatic herbs. A small tree sat in a pot by the balcony doors, small strips of paper hanging from its branches.

The bed was opulent, as it probably needed to be. Clearly in the alicorn size class. Silky curtains covered the bed itself, while the edges of a ruffled comforter could be seen peering out from beneath.

Celestia herself sat in an easy chair, wrapped tight in a pink robe, a newspaper folded tight across her lap. She took a sip from a mug of something bitter—Chrysalis wasn’t sure if it was strong tea or weak coffee. She stifled a snort when she caught sight of the dozens of curlers in the princess’ mane.

“Hello, Chrysalis.” Celestia took another sip. Her lips twitched in the beginning of a grimace, but the emotion and its evidence passed. “You wished to speak with me?”

Chrysalis moved closer when Celestia indicated a smaller chair near the fire. She nestled into the thing, which placed her just a little shorter than the towering princess. “I didn’t see you at the gala.”

“I had to leave early. I’ve got to prepare for the Sunday Sunrise Service tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Chrysalis rubbed her hooves together, pausing when one bumped into a gaping hole in her shin. “I’m not sure how to ask this…”

“In my experience,” Celestia said, “it’s best to just throw it out there and let things sort themselves out.”

“Alright.” Chrysalis II looked the princess right in the eye and released the question with no room for dodging. “Have the changelings ever wielded the Elements?”

Celestia didn’t move. She remained impassive; kind yet quite impassive. No reaction flickered across her face, but Chrysalis felt something strange stir in her heart. “May I ask why you ask?”

“Well…” Chrysalis shrugged. “I think it’s a fair trade.”

Celestia waited for her to continue. When she did not, she sighed. “There is a myth that in the first age, changelings did indeed use the Elements to fight off the Unseelie Court of Fae. Second Age historians discredited the myth as being… well, heretical. But that said, there is no concrete evidence of anybody but the ponies using the artifacts.”

Chrysalis felt a shiver run down her spine. “Heretical?”

“The battle for power often continues long after dominance is asserted.” Celestia fluffed her feathers and took a tiny sip of her brew. “Unicorn scholars at the time were desperately trying to convince the world that they had a right to control the sun in its arc across the sky. That, in turn, they should also have a right to rule.” She sent a sideways glance at the changeling beside her. “I would argue that it was they being heretical, and perhaps hypocritical, though I have no real evidence. All recorded teams of bearers, from River and her ponies, to Twilight Sparkle and her friends, have been one-hundred percent pony.”

She gestured to a bookcase lying against the wall. “Of course, all we would need was evidence from before the second age to disprove that.” She smiled brightly at Chrysalis, all teeth and sparkles. “We’ll know for certain soon enough. I have a team excavating ancient ruins in the Northern Equestrian Wastes as we speak.”

“Is there something…” Chrysalis narrowed her eyes. “In the Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters?”

Celestia froze. No mere pause, but an ice-cold stop to all movement. The expression never changed. The voice never faltered. “May I ask why you ask?”

Chrysalis pictured the image of the old changeling queen, hovering ethereal above the flower. “I was approached by a changeling who believed you were hiding something beneath the palace. Something that was… ‘evidence of our greatest accomplishments.’”

“We… certainly never removed…” Celestia clicked her tongue. “The Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters was built on the site of the old Fort Everfree, which was in turn built upon stone ruins we found. It’s possible that there was something there before, but too aged to glean anything from.”

Chrysalis II swallowed the lump in her throat. “Ancient changeling cities were not built on the surface. Only the entrance would ever be seen.”

Celestia nodded. “And this changeling who approached you believes that there is a city beneath my old castle?”

“I think so.”

“Alright.” Celestia pursed her lips. “Who is this changeling? Are they a member of your hive?”

“No.” Chrysalis wasn’t even sure she was part of any hive. Or that they were even alive. How much did she want to tell Celestia? How much did she want to give away, or keep to herself? How much did she… want to trust? “She—she called herself River Cicada. She vanished after she spoke to me.”

“River. Cicada.” Celestia nestled down in her robe, perfectly nonchalant. She slurped up the last bit of her bitter drink, pulled a face, and set the mug on the hearth’s shelf. “I’ve not heard that name before, either.”

The princess’ ear twitched as she shut her eyes. “Tell you what. As coincidences go, I have an investigative team heading to the old palace tomorrow. What do you say to accompanying them and seeing what they dig up? You’ll have an expert on hand to ask about the possibilities, and see for yourself whether we’re deliberately trying to hide something.”

Chrysalis furrowed her brow, but gave Celestia a polite smile all the same. Nothing like a guided tour on your secret hunt. “How can I refuse?”

“Good. They’re leaving right after the service.” Celestia sent a glance at the clock on the wall. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Bright and early.” Celestia guided Chrysalis to the door with a wing over her shoulders. The changeling queen shrunk beneath the touch, but maintained her posture. “Don’t you worry. We’ll have our mysteries solved before you know it.”

As Chrysalis walked back to her guest room, she heard Celestia whisper to the guards. “Put a quiet alert out. Have the patrols look for a changeling not part of Chrysalis’ entourage.”

Chrysalis almost hoped they found her, whatever she was, just so she didn’t have to worry about it. Then again, how were the guards supposed to restrain a ghost? It might be better if they found nothing. People could get hurt.

And what if the ruins were beneath the palace? What if Celestia or the Founders really were hiding the changelings’ accomplishments? What would that do to her alliance? To Equestria?

What would the ponies do to her people if they found out?

“You’re a queen,” she whispered to herself. “That means you’ll deal with it.”

How? Now that was the question.

That was always the question.

***

But we keep getting back up. We keep fighting. You taught me that.

Daring Do opened her eyes to find the world dark. The curtains were drawn to shut out the moonlight. The lanterns were long since snuffed out. Sound was dampened as well, leaving nothing more than hushed breathing from Care and a stuttered snore from Apple Bloom.

She didn’t want to go back to sleep. Not really. The warmth of a hoof holding her own, the tingle of facial whiskers against her nose, both were there waiting. But they weren’t real. They were just faint longings of her heart given form.

She popped her silver pocket watch open and flicked on a small magilamp. Two hours before the Sunrise Service. Not cool. Between getting ready and gathering her troops, there wasn’t a whole lot of time left to sleep. Since she didn’t want to disturb her roommates, she slithered out of bed and onto the balcony.

The night air was warm. The moon, welcoming. The stars, inviting.

She shut the pocket watch, hiding the picture of her and Time. “Are you up there, guy? Are you looking down, dreaming of me? If you are, quit nibbling my ear, you perv.”

She chuckled and leaned on the railing. Faint pain shot through her wings as she spread them, but the ambrosia was doing its work fairly well. Tomorrow, she’d basically be pain-free. That would last for maybe a week. Two, if she didn’t do anything vigorous. Fat chance of that, though.

She let the watch hang over her chest, where it beat out a second-by-second heartbeat against her own. She raised her head and let her eyes hop from star to star, drawing out shapes and patterns learned from years of navigating the wilderness. Each star, burning bright, its place in the sky only changing with the season.

“H-hay, Creator.” Daring Do coughed, scratching the back of her mane. “Creator dude. I, um, I don’t know if you’re listening. Or… if you’re even really there. I mean, I know a lot of ponies who say you’re real and stuff, and I trust them to not be complete idiots, sooo…”

Stupid. She felt so stupid. Talking to the sky. Bearing her heart to nopony at all. Speaking empty words to emptier air.

Time believed.

So what did it hurt, even if she was just venting?

“Look, Creator, I’ve never bothered to try this before…” She rolled her eyes. “Obviously. So, You supposedly listen to those who cry out Your name. You’re kinda, like, obligated to listen to me, right? Something like that?”

The words hung in the air, unanswered.

“That’s what I figured.” She propped her cheek on an upheld hoof. “I’ve been thinking about Time a lot the past year and so. Heck, I even wrote a book about him. That takes some doing. And, I just—I want to say something to him. I want him to know something.”

She lay her ears against her head. An owl hooted somewhere down the side of the mountain. The stars twinkled on unabated.

“I’m no good at this…
Touchy feely kinda stuff
As far as talking goes
I’m to the point and gruff…

“I don’t got time to reminisce
I’ve got some stuff to do
I’m just making a little guess
What they say ’bout you is true”

Daring spun around and leaned her back against the railing. She spread her wings to their full length. The mustardy yellow feathers seemed darker in the silvery moonlight, not quite complemented by the heavenly hue.

“Would you carry a message?
Deliver one for me
There’s somebody out there
I’d really like to see

“Would you carry a message
To the stars above
Tell him there’s still someone
Who cherishes his love…”

Daring Do felt her face flush at the sound of her scratchy, squeaky, untrained singing voice. Still, it felt good to air the thought out. Get it on paper, so to speak. She rubbed her cheek and paced across the balcony. “Well, You get the message. Hope I don’t need a stamp or anything.”

“What are you doing?”

Daring yelped and spun, coming face-to-face with Captain Care Carrot. She flashed a devil-may-care grin and patted Care on the shoulder. “It’s called catharsis, Cap. Just dumping my junk before we go back in neck-deep. Sometimes, you just gotta sing your troubles away.”

Care raised an eyebrow. “If you say so. I prefer to punch them away. With a fireball.”

“Can’t punch ennui.” Daring jerked her head to the room. “Get suited up. Celestia’s gonna have my head if I’m late to the Sunrise Service again.”

Care snorted, soft footfalls leading her across the carpet. “Again? You have a history?”

Daring tossed her grayscale mane. “Of course! Never had much love for getting up at the crack of dawn to listen to some old fart read out of a dusty book. I prefer to read dusty books on my own time, thank you very much.”

She grabbed Apple Bloom’s shoulder and shook hard. “Daylight in the swamp, kid! Its morning somewhere, and we gotta get a move on.”

Apple Bloom sat up, but did not open her eyes. They remained firmly shut against the piercing sting of Care’s magilamp. “Mrglphrm.”

Care ran a brush over her coat, moving quickly and precisely with her magic. “I hate mornings, too, but you get used to always being on the move.”

“Screw that.” Apple Bloom rubbed the crumbs from her eyes. “Did you guys hear somepony singin’?”

Care shot Daring a pointed glance, raising her eyebrows.

“Musta been a dream, Bloom,” Daring said, stuffing a compass into the bottom of her satchel. “Just an old dream.”

***

“Welcome, My Little Ponies, to the Sunday Sunrise.”

Button Mash stood in the darkness beside his friends and comrades, being outfitted with a suit of riot armor. The purple metal slid around his shoulders and flanks and clasped beneath his belly. Hefty boots held snug to his hooves to replace his horseshoes.

A crowd had built around the castle gates to put any crowd in Ponyville to shame. From what he’d heard, though, it was a significantly smaller turnout than Canterlot had seen in many a decade. The changelings were principally to blame, since they were the focal point for the minor exodus. The griffons, too, gave many a pony reason to vacation someplace else. Still, Button Mash saw more ponies than he could count at a glance, and that was a lot of ponies.

“Today is the day to remember friendship, and how it saved Equestria in the days before the Unification of the Three Tribes.”

Princess Mi Amore Cadenza stood at the foot of the castle gates. She belted out in the Royal Canterlot Voice, spreading the news throughout the entire city. Celestia and Luna sat off to her right side, while Chrysalis II and King Ursagryph took up the entirety of stage left. Royal Guards could be seen standing at attention atop the castle wall, while changelings and griffons alike maintained position at the front of the stage.

“Today is the day to be thankful to the princesses for raising the sun and the moon. Today is the day to remember the Creator’s gifts!”

Button Mash scrunched his muzzle as Rumble ducked beneath his belly. He felt Rumble’s ears bump against his thigh as the pegasus attempted to lock his armor tight. “Watch it, dude!”

Spike shushed them, his hand holding Apple Bloom’s hoof close. She stifled a snigger, and then shrugged when Spike turned his annoyed expression her way.

“He taught the unicorns to harness the sun and the moon! He taught the pegasi to fly and mold the weather! He taught the earth ponies how to grow food and shape the world!”

Button allowed his attention to return to the princess reciting the Gifts. He had heard them every Sunday for as long as he could remember, but never spoken as clearly as he heard them now. Back in Ponyville, Father Fabio the Diamond Dog was in charge of the service, and he had a bit of trouble using the word “the” in a sentence.

“He gave to the zebras dominion over secrets! He gave to the griffons the charge to protect!”

Martial Paw coughed into his talon. Daring Do nudged him with a wing, sending him a teasing grin.

Spike glared daggers at them. “Doesn’t anybody else care about how important this is?”

Blankety raised a hoof. “I care.”

Spike thrust his hand towards the disguised changeling. “Thank you!”

“You know I care, Spike,” Button said, lifting a leg to allow Rumble access to his front clasps. “I’m just a little distracted right now.”

“Not my fault,” Rumble mumbled. “If you’d learn how to equip your own gear…”

“He gave to the diamond dogs the urge to explore! He gave to the breezies the knowledge to heal! He gave to the changelings a thirst for companionship!”

Blankety pointedly did not look at Chrysalis. Button couldn’t help but notice him shrinking down, his ears lying flat against his head. Button chewed his lip as he watched Blankety’s gaze drop to the ground.

The naming of the Gifts continued, species after species, until all known sapients had been recalled and honored. Cadenza finished with a final three.

“He gave to the dragons an age in which to grow! He gave to the centaurs a wellspring of life! He gave to the draconequui a love of the unexpected!”

She raised her head, and light exploded from her horn. It shot into the sky, with two more spells from Luna and Celestia. The light was soon overtaken by the glow of the sunrise, peering over the mountainside. Stars vanished as blue overtook the sky. The moon sank to its resting place beyond the horizon. Warmth filled all who basked in the sun’s glow.

Button shut his eyes and soaked it in. Even with Rumble poking around his belly. Even with the creatures around him joking and laughing about this or that. Even with the weight of the world on his shoulders… There was warmth, comfort, strength—all from that sunlight. All from the promise that a new day lay ahead.

He opened his eyes and saw Blankety glance away. The changeling pricked his ears towards Button, scuffing a hoof along the ground.

“It’s fine, Blank,” Button muttered. “That’s just the feeling that thing’ll work out. Even I get that sometimes.”

Blankety Blank nodded, furrowing his brow. “Does it last?”

“Not really.” Button shrugged. “But it’s there when we need it.”

Rumble popped his head alongside Button’s. “That’s just heatstroke, dude.”

Care Carrot looked up from clasping her own suit of armor. “Shut up, Rumble.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Care laid a hoof across Blankety’s shoulders and winked. He smiled back, leaning into the hug. The eight of them watched the rest of the sunrise in silence, watching the world come awake. A few meters away, the congregation of ponies began to sing the most popular song for welcoming in the new week.

“The Fire of Friendship
Lives in our hearts
As long as it burns
We cannot drift apart…”

Button cleared his throat. A sting struck him behind the eyes. There it was. The old familiar emotions. Seeing ponies all singing together, united in heart and purpose… there was something about it that choked him up. Unity felt so rare, so precious.

He supposed that’s why he felt so strongly when Sweetie Belle sang.

Rumble bumped his shoulder against him. “You crying, bro?”

“Yes,” Button whispered. “Also, shut up.”

“Not a big deal, Button.” Button didn’t look at Rumble, but he felt a small tremor in his voice. “I just kinda know the feeling. This is awesome stuff, seeing so many ponies willing to stand with the changelings. And, you know, griffons.”

Button looked up to see a cloudless sky. He brushed the tears from his cheeks with a sigh. Sweetie. There was a name that hung heavy on his heart. There was a pony he could never fail again. Ever. She deserved better than that.

Better than him?

He sniffed and brought his head down. The ground between his forehooves was no more inviting that the vast, unbroken sky. He whispered, well beneath his breath, pleading to whoever could hear it.

“I don’t know if you can hear me
Among the stars above
I know when it comes to requests
You’ve probably had enough

“I’ve just got this one thing
This sole demanding thought
I need someone to share it
When clearly I cannot”

His ear twitched at a scuffle of motion. Daring Do led the group away from the town square, towards the airship docks. Martial walked alongside her, with Spike and Apple Bloom dutifully trotting behind. Rumble lightly punched his shoulder before he, too, joined the crew.

Button stepped aside to get out of Captain Carrot’s way. She raised an eyebrow, jerked her head towards Daring, and proceeded on her way. He followed, with Blankety bringing up the rear. He continued to whisper, hoping against hope that the bleeding of his heart went unnoticed.

“Would you carry a message?
Just this little note
That we’re coming to the rescue
A tiny slice of hope

“Would you carry a message
To a cherished friend
That if it takes forever
I’m with her to the end…”

***

Sweetie’s head pounded. The magic in her heart had nearly dried to a trickle, unable to make its way through her fairy strings. She lay in darkness, unable to light her horn, unable to generate even a spark.

Cold. Dark. Damp. Silent. Oppressive.

The door came apart to admit a pony into the room. It was Kiln again, carrying a plate of whatever. Nothing sounded good. Her stomach swam. Cheese would have made her puke, while bread would just taste like ash on her tongue.

Water sounded good, though.

She raised her head and set her glasses on straight. The headlamp he wore was painful to the eyes, but any light was welcome. He drew to her side and placed the food within reach. He gave her a double-take that sent the lantern bobbing. “Good heavens, lass! What happened tae ye?”

She tried to speak, but he brain wasn’t quite in a position to divulge information. Instead, she grabbed the water and dribbled it down her throat. Not too fast; she didn’t want to waste a drop.

He reached through to place a hoof against her forehead. She drew away, but he apparently didn’t need more than that. “Ye’ve got a fever. Lass, what ails ye? Do ye need medicine?”

Sweetie swallowed what she had, pausing long enough to whisper. “Ambrosia.”

“We have a wee bit, but…” He squinted at her eye, a deep frown creasing his face. “What sort o’ illness plagues ye?”

Sweetie Belle would have rolled her eyes had she the strength. Explaining her medical history to this thug was the last thing she wanted to do. But, if it got her medicated… “A congenital disorder. My fairy strings are shriveled. They can’t move magic without ambrosia.”

Kiln scuffed a hoof, glancing between her and the door. He gave her a slight nod and backed away. “I’ll get some ambrosia for ye. Just sit tight.”

What else could she do? At least the water cooled her head and calmed her nerves. She dribbled a little over her head to ease the grime from her mane, if only a touch. She was gonna need a long bath after all this. A nice bath, a decent meal, new glasses to replace her chipped and scratched lenses…

And Scootaloo… She was probably going to need counseling, or therapy, or something after everything she’d been put through.

Kiln was back in a moment’s time, carrying a precious vial of amber liquid. The faint smell of honey temporarily broke through the damp dirtiness of the cavern. “Here ye go. How much?”

“Two milliliters.”

He unscrewed the cap of the silvery cylinder and dripped ambrosia into the cup. He counted out the small notches placed inside until he had the proper level. She took it from him gently, bringing it to her lips with her eyes tightly shut.

It burned going down. Warming her insides and prickling against her throat. The magic-infused liquid moved quickly, seeking out the underdeveloped fairy strings and lending them its strength. The headache subsided, the churning stomach quelled, and the bright tingle of magic returned to her horn.

Kiln leaned against the wooden bars of her cage, deep thought furrowing his brow. “And when were ye going tae tell us about this?”

Sweetie Belle clutched the loaf of bread in her hooves and chomped down. “Probably after you stopped caging me like an animal.”

“Underdeveloped fairy strings is a killer, lass.” Kiln nearly scowled, but not quite. It was more frustration than anger. Perhaps with a little sadness around the eyes. “Are ye so willin’ tae die to prove a point?”

“It didn’t come to that, did it?”

“Aye, but it may well have.” Kiln pointed at her, his voice going lower. “If it were Rhombus checkin’ up on ye, he woulda brushed yer state off as nothin’. He’s got empathy for naught. Same with the Painted Ones. Ye are playin’ a deadly game, lass; one with no real winners.”

Sweetie scoffed. “Speaking of deadly games, how’s your daughter feel about your career choice these days?”

“Don’t change the subject.” Kiln snapped his teeth to punctuate the statement. “Ye’ve got a responsibility tae uphold. Not only for yer own life, but yer friend’s as well. Keep yerself healthy, hardy, and survive by any means necessary. Ahuizotl’s gonna be callin’ for ye soon, and that’s when ye’ll have tae put yer responsibility above yer pride.”

He clasped the container of ambrosia and carried it out the door, leaving her alone in the dark with a tray of food. She lit her horn freely, her pain slaked and the danger of magic overload gone. There was a time when no ambrosia resulted in an inability to use magic. As she grew older, though, the danger grew alongside her.

The pale green shimmer of her magic cast itself to the far corners of the room. She could see the empty cell previously occupied by Scootaloo. She could see the door, looking for all the world like a single piece of stone. Looking up, the ceiling had a faint honeycomb effect, like a long-dead beehive.

Time seemed to mean nothing. Down here, there was no sun or moon or stars. The only thing she had to tell the time was Kiln’s meals and how many times she’d slept. Was it Saturday night or Sunday morning? Maybe she’d missed a whole day and found herself in Monday already. It seemed such a shame to go through Sunday Sunrise and not sing in front of the Ponyville gathering…

“The Fire of Friendship
Lives in our hearts…”

Not the same without Spike’s piano accompaniment.

She found a dry spot on the floor to lie down. She sipped slowly at the water, savoring its cool, clean, refreshing taste. She rolled onto her back and studied the honeycomb pattern. It was broken up repeatedly by the natural stone of the cavern ceiling, allowing stalactites to grow through. The pattern, though… that had to be created. Carved—or molded? Twilight would know. Maybe she’d ask her whenever she got out of there.

The honeycomb reflected her magic, taking on the appearance of stars in the night sky. Or the hearts Ahuizotl kept as prisoners. Both of them, clothed in living color, singing an unheard song.

“I’m a little out of practice
Both weak of heart and voice
This cavern lies cold, bereft
Of any source of joys

“The only light comes from within
My lowly heart beats faint
And none of this is evidence
I’m any kind of saint”

She brushed the mane from her eyes, nearly knocking her glasses from their perch. She straightened them with a spell, peering between the scratches, to see the honeycomb glimmer in response.

“Would you carry a message?
Shout it out today
Let the lonely know
That help is on its way

“Would you carry a message
To those hearts in need
A hero’s on the warpath
To set the captives free”

She listened to the cavern drip and echo blankly back. She nibbled the cheese and found it slightly more palatable than before.

“Would you carry a message?
Would you carry a message?”

***

The air harbor buzzed with activity as Button followed the gang to Martial’s airship. Diamond dogs, minotaurs, ponies, and creatures of all kinds went about their business in the early morning, each getting ready for a long journey ahead.

He paused at the foot of the ramp, holding his breath. One more step, and there was no going back. There was a headlong rush. A reckless stampede. A battle cry and a blazed trail.

He leaped onto the gangplank and ran up to the side of the canopy. Blankety came after him and raised the plank, stowing it away. They gathered alongside Daring Do and her small crew as she laid out orders.

“Alright, guys. My word is law on this ship, unless Marty or Care says otherwise. Rumble, Button, Bloom, get below deck and let the sailors do their work. Don’t touch anything, or you’re going overboard.”

She pointed to the side of the ship with a wing. “Spike, Care, get us untied and ready to move. Blank, start up the engines. Marty, you know what to do.”

Martial flapped his way to the ship’s wheel and took a hold. “Already ahead of you, Dr. Yearling.”

The airship shook as the ropes were released, and listed as the engines revved up. Propellers whirled, rigging groaned, and soon enough, the Vanishing Point was in the air. Button opened a porthole and watched solid ground fade away into the clouds.

“Geeze, look at this stuff,” Rumble said. He brushed dust off of a stack of book held to their shelves by a rope. “It’s like a museum in here.”

Apple Bloom set her hooves against a table and shook it. It held fast. “Looks like they nailed the thing to the floor. To keep it from sliding. Slick.”

Pens and compasses dotted the table, covering a half-finished map. It seemed to be of the same area as the one Daring had shown them last night, though far more detailed. A symbol had been marked in the upper reaches of Equestrian territory, labeled “Spade of Hearts Location.” Another mark, close to Canterlot, held the title of “Map Location.”

Button tapped the symbol. “So that’s where we’re going? The map? Looks close.”

Apple Bloom leaned over his shoulder—or more accurately, loomed over his entire body. “Yeah, the Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters is pretty equidistant b’tween Canterlot and Ponyville.”

Button bit his lower lip. “Right smack dab in the middle of the Everfree Forest.”

“The heart of chaos itself. Discord notwithstanding.” Rumble took a seat and tried to shift the chair closer. When it didn’t move, he settled for lounging against the back. His armor clanked against a sextant hanging from the wall. “Sunny Everfree, where the weather’s uncontrollable, the creatures are hungry, and fairy creatures lurk around every corner. Vacation now and save up to fifteen percent.”

Button Mash took a seat beside the open porthole. The last thing he saw before a cloud hid them from view was Princess Celestia walking with Queen Chrysalis II through the air harbor. He frowned. Were the changelings leaving already?

He turned his attention forward, to the Everfree Forest and their destination. A crew of misfits rushing to the rescue. A storybook character, a shapeshifting monster, a griffon noble, a veteran soldier, a rookie guard, an alchemist, a dragon, and—

Button smiled and patted his saddlebags.

—a puppet master.

“Hold on, Sweetie,” he whispered. “We’re coming.”

The Broken Kingdom

Caballeron huddled in the dark beside the small opening to the grand antechamber not two meters away. Tools chipped away at the solid stone, which had stood in place for millennia, ever since the hallway had caved in. The spark of magic caught his ears as a Painted One struck the flank of a nearby slave. “Enough! We’re close. There’s no reason to harm them now.”

The acolyte growled at him, the painted lines on his face flashing in the dimness. “They slow down unless we keep them motivated, outsider. Those lacking hearts find little reason to move without persuasion.”

Caballeron lit a cigarette and tossed the match at the Painted One’s nose. “And who’s fault is that?”

A quick glance over the workforce told him they’d be through in a matter of mere hours. As long as the poor soulless ponies kept up a consistent pace—as long as no more succumbed to pains and aches they could no longer react to—Ahuizotl would have his prize. Then, Caballeron would be out.

He glance back and, to his dismay, found the Painted One still fixated on him. He sighed and tipped his hat to one side. “By the way, the name is Caballeron. Use it maybe. Unless my name is meaningless next to the might of Ahuizotl.”

“You jest in vain, outsider. Ahuizotl—”

“Ahuizotl is wise, Ahuizotl is bold, Ahuizotl will lead the Painted Ones to Canterlot and wipe the land clean of the stench of unicorn tyranny.” Caballeron daubed his forehead free from sweat and dirt. “I’ve heard it every day since I joined your rotten little gang. It hasn’t swayed me yet.” Caballeron smiled as the Painted One blathered wordlessly. “Take it from a fellow earth pony; we don’t have it that bad. Business, commerce, innovation, all are the hallmarks of earth pony society. Half the nobility is earth ponies. What sort of oppression could you possibly be fighting? What sort of wonderous cause does your so-called god inspire?”

The Painted One glowered, going silent as the workers picked away at the stone. The butt of his spear tapped against the ground lightly, just once. “Ahuizotl is not here to exalt the successful, but to liberate the forgotten. Not to safeguard the loved, but to empower the abandoned. You will not find one Painted One who is still joined to his mother and father.”

Poni Caballeron scoffed. “He kidnaps abandoned children for his brainwashed army, then?”

“Spin it how you wish, Caballeron.” The acolyte sneered. “My god is a god who keeps his promises.”

Caballeron nodded. He snuffed what remained of the cigarette against the wall, his appetite for it spent. “Promises. Promises of power and privilege. Tell me, what promise has he kept lately?”

The acolyte’s ear twitched in the direction of the tunnel’s mouth. He grinned at Caballeron and took a step back. “Wait and see.”

Caballeron snapped his ears up to catch whatever the acolyte had heard. A faint skittering, a minor mechanical ticking. That was all that rose above the steady clink of excavation tools. He turned his eyes to match and squinted into the darkness, which was thick and foggy with dust.

Light flickered, a shape came into view, and Caballeron’s chest burned with something resembling terror.

Its body was separated into three segments, each rounded and made from a polished, bronze-like metal. The machine had six legs, set in pairs along the length of the midsection. Each leg ended in a curved, dangerous blade. The head held pincers the size of a pony’s leg. The eyes glowed with a magic that had, at some point in the recent past, been the lifeforce of a pony.

The terrible loom of Ahuizotl’s presence filled the cavern. The mad creature’s mouth parted in two rows of vicious flesh-rending teeth. “Make the slaves stand aside!”

Sparks flashed from the ends of spears. The painted ones drove the slaves to either side of the cavern. Caballeron stood atop a boulder that had come loose a few minutes before, all the better to keep out of reach and to keep Ahuizotl in sight. There, on the purported god’s side, a bag containing Scootaloo’s heart. And, Caballeron hoped, another heart as well.

The thorax of the mechanical arthropod spread open, and from it emerged a silvery tube. Furious purple magic collected on the end as it aimed at the small opening. Heartfire spewed forth, annihilating all in its path.

The wall vanished in a gush of dust and roar of fire.

Ahuizotl raised a fist. “It has begun, my people! The time of Ahuizotl and the Painted Ones is now! Go! You have your assigned duties to prepare for my ascension!” He pointed a claw at a nearby acolyte. “You! Bring me the hearts for the device!” He stopped at the base of Caballeron’s boulder. With his height, he was easily able to see eye-to-eye with the pony. “And you. See to the slaves. Lock them in their cavern to await my emergence.”

Caballeron gritted his teeth. “Perhaps you should keep your promise to me, Ahuizotl. One heart for a job well done.”

“And indeed I shall!” Ahuizotl narrowed his yellow eyes. “Just as soon as the job is complete. Not a moment before. Besides—” He grinned. “—my Painted Ones have no idea how to treat a lady. Miss Belle doesn’t appreciate their attitude. Surely you will know how best to keep her comfortable, once her moment to shine arrives.”

Ahuizotl patted the mechanoid on its head. “Come, Dissero. Time and tide wait for no creature.”

Caballeron trotted away, his ears clamped tight against his head to block out the screaming laughter of his employer.

“But when I guide the sun through the sky,” the mad god crowed. “Time and tide shall serve my beck and call!”

***

When Button was next allowed abovedeck, they were gliding over the treetops of the Everfree Forest. The Vanishing Point flew nearly low enough to scrape the tops of the tallest trees. It was a wide open sea of green, only the occasional craggy stone formation breaking it up. Animal calls both carnivorous and otherwise were heard as whispers above the roar of the wind.

He had never been this deep in the Everfree Forest. He’d never so much as dreamed of traveling into the untamed wilds. Looking down, seeing the misshapen trees, the roaring rivers, the gaping caves, sent shivers down his spine.

“Five degrees starboard!” Daring Do shouted across the deck. “I can see the spire!”

“Aye, aye!” Martial Paw tilted the ship’s wheel the requisite distance, and the ship shifted its course.

Daring Do trotted past Button Mash to reach Spike, who stood near the edge of the ship’s rail. “Get ready to weigh anchor. I don’t wanna overshoot this thing.”

Button moved to the front of the ship. He figured at this moment that the best thing he could do was “not break anything.” He gazed into the distance and found the point where the vast greenness became… something a bit more sinister.

There, like a black scar upon the forest, was a tangle of spiny vines. They crept and climbed, reaching outward to spill into a wide chasm separating the forest from the malignant growth. The remains of a withered rope bridge dangled from a gap in the vines, acting as the origin of a withered stone pathway.

He peered between the vines, through the tendrils and branches, and found the castle Daring had seen.

It was akin to a castle from the oldest fairy tales; stone parapets and stained glass windows and spiraling towers. The wooden roof had rotted away, alongside the drawbridge and doors. The portcullis had collapsed, as if blown outwards by an irresistible force. All around, an oppressive sense of claustrophobia filled the air. Depression. Suffocation.

Maybe it was just him.

“Do the thing, Spike!” Daring Do grabbed the rigging and hauled herself upwards. “Marty, keep us away from those thorns!”

They dove straight for the brambles. Button swallowed hard when he noticed that no, it was not an optical illusion, the thorns really were as long as a pony.

“Tr-try not to touch the vines.”

Button jumped. Blankety Blank stood at his side, having given no indication that he had drawn close. The disguised changeling gave him a sheepish smile. “P-plunder vines like to wrap around anything that touches them. It’s an instinctive r-response to s-st-stimuli.”

“Yeah?” Button cinched his saddlebags tighter around his barrel. “Duly noted.”

The sun was blocked from view as they passed into the thicket. The vines seemed to all but absorb the light directly. The temperature dropped. The air stilled. All that could be heard was the rumble of the propellers scooting them along.

Apple Bloom curled herself up as small as she could. As it was, she still dwarfed everybody besides Martial. “I thought the Tree of Harmony kept the plunder vines in check?”

“It still works for most of the forest,” Rumble said. He gripped his spear tight as he stretched his wings. The blue magical field along his enchanted armor rippled with the movement. “Maybe the old palace isn’t a priority?”

Apple Bloom’s eyes widened. She sucked in a mouthful of air as a razor-sharp thorn scraped against the side of the airship. “Don’t much like this. Not one bit.”

Button chanced a look at the ground. The ancient stone pathway flashed with the scattering of a local flock of cockatrices. The hideous beasts crowed at them before vanishing into the mist.

“Ponyfeathers!” Daring Do flipped over the side of the envelope with one hoof bound tightly with a rope. “We’ve got company!”

Martial Paw didn’t dare to glance away from his steering duties. “Boggarts?”

“Worse! Politicians!” Daring grinned and held a hoof beside her mouth. “All hands, prepare to receive royalty!”

Button Mash trotted to the middle of the deck, with Apple Bloom and Rumble to either side. Blankety had vanished without a trace, either belowdecks or otherwise. Spike lowered the anchor at a signal from Daring, and the Vanishing Point slowed. As they descended, Button was able to get a look at the royalty Daring had seen following them.

It was a golden chariot, drawn by enormously muscled pegasi. It was flanked above and below by two flights of five guardsponies. The occupants of the chariot drew the most attention. His eye was first drawn to the image of Equestrian beauty herself, High Princess Celestia. She was dressed in full adornments, topped with a glistening tiara. Her saddle radiated with everchanging rainbows, much like her mane had before she started to wear it more pink. Her eyes pierced right through him, as if discerning the deepest of his thoughts.

He supposed he couldn’t be too embarrassed, considering that the deepest thought he could conjure up amounted to “Whoa.”

It turned a darker shade of “Whoa!” when he saw the other passenger. She was tall, thin, nearly skeletal. Her pink mane hung limp like a weighted spiderweb. Her eyes, similarly pink, seemed strange. Off. Having an ethereal, out-of-this-world aura. Like a holographic comic cover.

The chariot came to a hover beside the airship. Spike busied himself dumping ballast, though he had the presence of mind to shout “Hiyah, Princess!” before returning to work. Celestia waved to him and spread her majestic wings.

“Ahoy! Permission to come aboard?”

“Granted!” Daring Do called back.

Rumble stood at attention beside Captain Care Carrot, who held her helmet at her side. She bowed her head to Princess Celestia as she and Queen Chrysalis II flew to the ship. “Princess Celestia, it’s an honor to have you join us. But, uh… what are you doing here?”

The ship rocked as it settled down, tied fast with strong ropes to a few aged plunder vines that had hardened to a nearly stone-like density. Overhead, Button could see the younger sprouts swimming their way through the air, grasping at birds. When one of the creatures was caught, it would be dragged into the morass, never to be seen again. Possibly digested. Most probably digested.

“Chrysalis and I have discovered something of a blank spot in history.” Celestia’s calm, warm voice brushed against Button’s ears like a gentle, caring hoof. “There is concern that our ancestors may have demolished an ancient changeling city in order to build Fort Everfree, which was eventually repurposed into the Palace of the Royal Sisters.”

Daring Do hopped down from the envelope to land beside Captain Carrot. “What we do know is that there’s some sort of ruins beneath the Everfree Forest. We got a general location, but now that we’ve found the northernmost city, we can triangulate the exact positioning of this city.”

The chitin on Chrysalis II’s neck shifted as she swallowed hard. “You’ve found other changeling cities already? H-how many of them are there?”

Button caught Daring’s glance at Celestia, with an unspoken question. It was followed with a regal nod, granting permission. “Three. One in the Northern Wastes. One in the Everfree Forest. One in the middle of Felaccia. Took us a year to find the one up north, and I didn’t wanna spend that much time in this hellhole of a forest.”

Chrysalis’ eyes, as impossible to discern as they were, still took the occasion to water. “What was it like?”

Daring Do scratched the back of her mane. “Pristine. Definitely recommend you take a trip there. At some point. Once we’ve exorcised the place.”

“Exorcised?”

“Just a little grave humor, Your Majesty.”

Chrysalis didn’t seem to know what to say to that. She looked to Celestia, who had moved to the prow of the airship. The High Princess of Equestria leaned a hoof on the rail, her brow furrowed, staring up at the ruins of the castle.

“The site of my greatest failure,” Celestia said quietly. “Yet paradoxically, also the site of my greatest triumph. The death and rebirth of Luna. The promise fulfilled. The light of friendship come into its own. Where the Elements were diminished, lost, broken, and then remade.”

Chrysalis drew up alongside her, her wings vibrating at her sides. “I want to learn more about the Elements. Maybe their history has some sort of clue… about ours.”

“I could tell you,” Button said, surprising himself.

All eyes turned to him. He fought back the blush and reached into his saddlebags. “I—uh—I’m a storyteller by trade. I know a lot of the old myths, legends, and histories. I could give you a crash-course while Miss Yearling—”

“Doctor,” Daring Do said.

“—while Dr. Yearling investigates the map.” Button shrugged. “I’m not gonna be too helpful otherwise.”

He pulled River from his saddlebags, the Equestrian hero shimmering with magic between the joints. “I—er—I’m a bit of a fanboy for Element Bearers.”

Daring Do straightened her wings out, only wincing a little. “It’s cool with me. Rumble, Apple Bloom, keep the plunder vines out of the rigging. Spike, Marty, Care, you’re with me.”

The royal guardsponies landed beside the gangplank and stood at attention. The ones on the left sparked, then swirled with green fire. Before the eyes of all, five changeling soldiers revealed themselves, coated in full greenish armor.

“I apologize for the duplicity,” Celestia said before anybody could spring into action. “I thought it prudent for them to remain in disguise until we reached the forest. There are many ponies who would not take well to the idea of our honor guard being half-and-half.”

Rumble raised his spear from its horizontal, ready-to-attack position. He cleared his throat, his hooves rattling in his boots. “N-no problem, Your Majesty. Just a few changelings outta nowhere. Nothing to be concerned about—”

Care Carrot laid a hoof on his shoulder. “Shut up, Rumble.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Daring and her assigned team disappeared behind the castle walls. Rumble and Apple Bloom swung weapons at curious plunder vines, warding the branches off. The soldiers—changeling and pony both—did the same for the ground level, clearing out a patch of crumbled stone courtyard. Celestia wandered off a short distance, well within eyeshot and clearly not wishing to be followed. She stared up at the castle silently, solemnly, her eyes running over familiar archways, and not-so-familiar decay.

That left Button and Queen Chrysalis II alone, plunder vines overhead and darkness all around.

“S-s-soooo.” Button tapped his hooves together. “What do you already know about the Elements?”

“Not much.” Chrysalis took a seat in front of him. Her reed-like legs, full of pockmarks and holes, scraped against each other to cause a tiny whine. “I have heard how the Elements banished Princess Luna, and how they were able to turn her back into herself.”

“Alright.” Button Mash placed River between himself and the queen. “Then I guess we can start from the beginning.”

Chrysalis bent down to squint curiously at the puppet. “What is this? It looks like a doll, but it has the magical workings of a device.”

Button Mash pulled his control cross from his bags and attached it to his hoof. “You’ve never seen a puppet before?”

Despite the fact that her face was predominantly made up of interlocking plates, her features still sagged beneath the weight of her emotions. “My mother often referred to her victims as puppets.”

Button’s heart stopped cold. His spine tingled up and down as his tail frayed. “W-well real puppets are devices like this one that can be controlled to—to tell a story. In a puppet show. I generally do kids shows, but some of the more famous marionette acts attract all ages.”

Her ears flopped down, all the pep going out of them. “I begin to understand what my mother meant.”

He twisted the control cross this way and that, causing River to sway back and forth. She took a step forward, then a skip, then a hop, the internal gyroscope keeping her level. Chrysalis watched closely, a hint of light returning to her strange eyes. “You do that just with the motions of your hoof?”

“And a little earth pony magic.” He made River bow, then set off at a trot. “They make different models for pegasi, and unicorns usually use their horns.”

Chrysalis reached a gnarled hoof out, but held it back. “M-may I take a closer look?”

“Sure! Sure!” Button detached his control cross and slipped it into his bag. He scooped River up to place it gently into Chrysalis’ waiting cloven hooves. “Just be gentle and it should be—”

The instant the puppet touched Chrysalis’ hoof, a spark of green lightning struck. The power flashed through the innards of the device and raced into Button’s frog. He snagged his foreleg back and sucked on the burnt pad. “Ouch! Son of—”

“Oh no!” Chrysalis also shrunk back, nursing a singed claw-like hoof. “No, no, I’m so sorry!”

“—a gun…” Button looked down to see River lying on the crumbled stone, her paint chipped away and her wood burned at the entrance and exit wound. The inner workings spritzed between green and blue, fighting the influence of changeling magic.

“I’m so sorry!” Chrysalis repeated, covering her mouth. “I don’t understand! I just tried to touch it, and my magic reacted, and I didn’t know it would happen, and I’m so sorry!”

No kidding, he thought. Who woulda thought that just touching the thing would cause it to explode… or short out… or whatever the changeling magic did. “It’s fine. It’s just a puppet. I can make a new one.”

He sighed deeply as he picked up the corpse of his hero. The inner light finally flickered out, fading to gray. “This… this is River. A pony from the First Age; the first part of recorded history. And the story of the Elements of Harmony… It begins with her.”

Panic faded as anxiety conflicted with curiosity. Chrysalis II of the Changelings lowered her hooves to balance her fore half. “I’m truly sorry. I would help fix it if—”

“It’ll be fine,” he said, tucking the lifeless husk into his saddlebags. “The story is bigger than one puppet. It’s bigger than any one person. And it’s important that you hear it.”

He glanced at Celestia, who remained motionless. Her ears were turned to face him, though, and that sent a strumming through his fairy strings. He was explaining the story in front of the Princess of Equestria. The story was ancient long before she was even born. He took in a deep breath, shrugged off the pressure to worry about later, and began to relate.

“In the first days, the world was shared between the Three States of Being. The animals, creatures of flesh, lived off the land and the plants. The Draconequui, creatures of thought, controlled the weather, the seasons, and the winds of the world. The Fey, creatures of spirit, ruled over the heavens, guiding the stars, the sun, and the moon.”

Chrysalis leaned closer, her ears perked attentively, her eyes shimmering with some enchantment. Button looked past the horrific features to the soul beneath, one eager to learn and hear the story. She wanted to know more. With all her heart.

“The Sapients—beings of flesh, thought, and spirit—populated the world. The land was divided between them, and each was given their own home to protect and rule.”

His ears dipped down as his voice took on a darker intonation. “But the Fey Folk grew jealous, and sought to leave the heavens and rule the world for themselves.”

***

Daring Do reached the throne room and passed by the tapestries without a second glance. Last time she was here, they had discovered the map. That had been just after the final battle with Commander Hurricane. Just after losing so much, yet gaining so much else. Care Carrot was exemplary of that fact, alongside Blankety.

Blankety Blank himself waited for them near the throne. She supposed he’d snuck out once they’d landed, avoiding Chrysalis at all costs. She couldn’t blame him. There’d been bad blood, much of it spilled, but the rest still boiled beneath the surface.

“So,” Spike said, tapping his clawtips, “what’s the plan?”

“Care’s here to kill any monsters with her freaky flame spells.” Daring Do hopped up the steps to the throne three at a time. “Marty’s the cartographer, so he’s gonna be doing all the calculations. You’re here to move heavy objects, and I’m here to potentially scribe this into a high-tension chase scene in my next book.”

She looped her wing around Blankety’s shoulders. “Blank’s here as our resident psychic bug monster. He’s gonna state the obvious and talk a lot about feelings.”

Blankety grinned. “I’m sensing a vague hostility from the leader of our expedition.”

“Voilà!” Daring circled behind the throne and tapped a stone slab tucked up against the wall. “Sparkle helped with this thing last time. Wanna lend a hand, Spike?”

“No problem!” Spike climbed the staircase on all fours and positioned his shoulder against the slab. He pushed with a good portion of his strength, and the stone easily slid away. A hallway appeared, leading downward at a steep angle into shadows. Worthlessly aged torches lined the walls, but Care’s lit horn pushed back the darkness.

Martial Paw landed beside them, having flapped his way up to the thrones. “Amazing what you can accomplish with the strength of a thousand ponies.”

Care cantered past him, giving Spike a wink. He puffed out his chest a little. Just a little. Enough that Daring could see the pride in her young, adoptive nephew’s smile. She slugged his shoulder and moved into the dank, dreary dungeon.

It was unchanged from her last visit. The walls bled moisture, which collected on the floor in pools of ichor and mung. Malevolent mud—a species of slime which appeared much more like dirt than gelatin—hid within the goop, making each step a treacherous one. The tunnel was barely wide enough for two ponies to walk side-by-side, which made conditions cramped for both Martial and Spike. It was a lengthy walk, but not unbearable. Just more than a little claustrophobic and plenty stressful.

It was a straight shot, no forks or curves to be found. Forward and down. Darker and colder.

They reached the end before long. The tunnel stopped in a sheer wall of stone, carved from the earth. Before the wall stood a lone slab, once squared at the corners but now worn down with age and erosion. Daring scraped the surface and found the material beneath to be a shiny bronze-colored metal.

“Here’s the map.” Daring Do reached up as high as she could go to wipe the muck from its surface. Symbols and lines appeared. Three circles, surrounding three locations around Equestria and the world, denoted the locations of the three great changeling cities. “We can exactly pinpoint the northern city. Marty, it’s all yours.”

Martial Paw pulled scroll upon scroll from his backpack. Rubbings, scale drawings, sheets of calculations, all of it there for his use. He dried off a portion of the floor with a rag, then used it as a flat surface to write upon.

Care loomed over his shoulder to provide light. “If you had all of that, how come we had to come down here?”

“Personal error, mostly.” Martial Paw produced a compass and drew a few expertly-measured arcs. Using the created points, he made a line across the page. “As you can see, the map is far larger than any paper we’ve been able to come up with. As such, any rubbings must be made using multiple sheets. Tiny errors have the propensity to build up.”

Martial tapped the map with a talon. “This thing has been machined to highly precise measurements. I do not own a device capable of reading enough decimal places to find an imperfection. As such, all told…”

He drew a measuring tape from a side-pocket. “It does us good to refresh and relocate.”

“Fair enough,” Care said, intensifying the glow of her horn as he hovered high enough to reach the northern city. “I guess a photograph wouldn’t capture it well, either.”

“Not if you’re going to do any kind of calculation.” Martial jotted down a note and landed on all fours. He pulled out a longer compass to connect a few lines, writing down formulas as he went. “With a map that covers this amount of area, any miscalculation could put you hundreds of miles—” He stared at his own equivalency, his brow wrinkling, his beak clicking together. “—off… target…”

Spike reared up on his hind legs to get a look. Daring squeezed around him and brought her head close to Martial’s. “Found something already? It didn’t take long for you to get freaked out.”

“Not freaked out, just…” Martial Paw angled the page towards her. “These are the coordinates for the Palace of the Royal Sisters, are they not?”

“Yep.”

“That’s pretty funny,” Martial said, “because they’re the coordinates I just generated with my calculations.”

“No kidding?” Care dimmed her light just enough to conserve magic strength. “Wait, really? The Founders built Fort Everfree on top of changeling ruins?”

“The ruins are underground,” Blankety Blank said. His voice grew higher, shaky, but most certainly strengthened by the thrill of discovery. “Before the F-Founders lived here, they drove a pack of Diamond Dogs out of the land. They must have lived in the changeling t-t-t-tunnels.”

Daring Do craned her head to look over the map. A sinking feeling appeared in her stomach. “We could be right on top of Ahuizotl right this second.”

She snatched the page away from Martial and handed it to Spike. “Okay, Spike, you head over to Celestia and let her know what we’ve found out. We gotta start combing the area for a way into the ruins, and we need to get Celestia out of here.”

Spike took the page gingerly in his claws. Concern wrote itself upon his face as fire lit his shimmering green eyes. He moved a little ways into the corridor before looking over his shoulder. “What do I do in the meantime?”

“You guys stay with the airship.” Daring passed another page to Martial, who began to scribble furiously. “We’re gonna locate the third city so we don’t have to come back down here. We’ll be with you in a few minutes. Trust me.”

Spike nodded, his voice tight. “I do.”

Blankety Blank reared up to press his hoof against the map’s Everfree location. He leaned against the bronze-colored material and sighed. “W-with our luck, Ahuizotl’s already been here and gone. He could be thousands—”

His hoof slipped. A light sparked. Blankety shrieked as a bolt of magic left his hoof and entered the map. He tumbled to the ground and rolled over Martial’s workspace. Daring and Martial stared wide-eyed at the map, their breath held in preparation of whatever might have been activated.

Care looked between the two of them. “That’s usually something pretty bad, yeah?”

The etched lines marking the map glowed with changeling magic. The walls rumbled, not unlike the churning of oversized clockwork. Daring froze, wishing for all the world to bolt, but unsure of any true safe spot. By the time she was ready to run, it was too late.

The ceiling opened up, and a furious blast of air pressed her against the ground. The floor creaked, split, and then opened up fully. The slime made grasping for footing useless. The air made her wings ache. The abyssal plummet gaped for them, swallowing her, Martial, Care, and Blankety whole.

The floor closed up, the wind halted, and the corridor was left empty as Spike raced for help.

***

“River and her friends stood before the King of the Fairies, the Lord of the Sky himself. All they had was their hope, their friendship, and the small trinkets they’d gained on their journey—” Button was about to reach the big moment, where all the hardship came to a stunning conclusion. The climax of the story. The crowning victorious moment for the heroes. He saw the excitement in Chrysalis’ eyes, the accident with the puppet long forgotten. He had even heard a chuckle from Celestia on a few occasions. If only he had his puppets! His stage! Then he could truly relate the awesome wonder he felt when he told the story. As it was, he took what he could get. He opened his mouth wide, ready to finish off the villain with a single phrase from his lips.

“Everypony come quick!” Spike shouted, charging from the ruins of the castle. “They’re trapped!”

Celestia stood at once. Button got to his feet and brushed the dirt from his legs. Spike raced at them, green fire trailing from the corners of his mouth. He skidded to a stop in front of Princess Celestia and held out a sheet of paper. “They all fell in a trapdoor! We need to go in and—wait!”

He pointed to the page, indicating a set of numbers that meant next to nothing for Button. “The changeling city really is beneath the castle! Directly beneath it! Ahuizotl’s already there, so you need to get out of here right now!”

Celestia got to her feet, pausing on the way up to catch her breath. “A trapdoor? Where are they now?”

“Directly beneath the castle!” Spike pointed at her chariot with an extended clawtip. “You need to get out of here now. If Ahuizotl knew you were here, only protected by five guards, there’d be nothing that could stop him from killing you!”

Celestia rubbed the scar across her chest. “But if they need help—”

“That’s what we’re here for, Your Majesty!” Apple Bloom waved down over the side of the ship. She swatted a plunder vine with a satisfying thwack! “We came to help Sweetie and Scoots, and now this just means we got ponies on the inside!”

“That’s right, Princess!” Rumble waved his spear in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner. A plunder vine nearly ripped it right out of his grasp. He yanked it back and gave the vine a good stabbing. “You need to get back to civilization and get us some real back up.”

“Please,” Spike said quietly, only truly in earshot of Celestia, Chrysalis, and Button. “Equestria couldn’t survive losing you again. And you know it.”

Celestia’s frown deepened. She shook her head and turned her gaze away from his. “You and Twilight both have a habit of telling me what I need to hear.”

She spread a wing and marched deliberately towards the chariot. She called out to the soldiers attached to the harness. “Skilly! Duff! Bring us back to Canter Mountain, double-time! This time is the time Ahuizotl does not get away!”

Skilly and Duff nodded, swinging the chariot around to allow Celestia and Chrysalis II to climb aboard. The five changeling soldiers morphed into their equestrian disguises, while the Royal Guard grouped together in formation on the far side.

Button glanced up at the changeling queen, who stood still, her features uncertain of emotion, and her legs uncertain of movement. “I guess we’ll have to finish the story later, Your Majesty. I promise it’s got a good ending.”

“Y—” A light pink touched Chrysalis’ cheeks. She skittered backwards from him, then spread her wings to launch herself into the chariot. Celestia gave the order, and the formation sped off into the sky, en route to Canterlot.

Rumble and Apple Bloom descended the gangplank and took up position beside Button. Apple Bloom struggled to get her saddlebags to sit right over her riot armor, but a tug from Spike set them right.

“Alright, Spike,” she said, her eyes narrow and her jaw set like flint. “Wat’s the plan?”

“I think we can get in through the same trapdoor.” Spike flexed his arms, causing sinue to ripple beneath the scales. “It’s made of stone, and can only be opened with changeling magic, but I get the feeling it’s not gonna be too much for me.”

“Did you see how deep it is?” Rumble asked. “Is it even possible they survived?”

“It’s deeper than I could see, but three of them have wings.” Spike waved for them to follow, then switched to all fours to increase his speed. “I haven’t seen a death trap yet that Aunt Yearling can’t get out of. We just gotta hurry so we can help them.”

“Got my med kit,” Button said. The four of them set off at a swift trot, following Spike’s memorized pathway through the Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters. Button refused to get distracted by his surroundings, though he wished he could have been there under different circumstances. At the moment, though, there were people who needed him. There was a goal, and it was finally in sight. With his friends by his side, and Spike at the lead, he allowed a bit of excitement to build. An adventure. He was actually on an adventure! He was one of the few braving vast dangers, exploring ancient ruins, defying malevolent monsters.

And if he had his way, it’d be the last time he did so for the rest of his life.

Spike led them down the damp corridor, burning slime with his enchanted dragonfire. They raced along in the light of his flame, which disintegrated what was left of the torches. A stone slab embedded with a bronze-colored plate marked the dead end, beneath which Button could see seams in the floor.

Spike dug his claws between the seams and pulled. He pulled with all his might, his muscles protesting, his breath filled with smoke, his breath deep and labored. A sound like metal bending radiated from deep within the walls.

Rumble tapped his spear against the stone. “So, when you actually get that open, how are we gonna make it all the way down? I have wings, but the rest of you…”

Button took a step back. “There was rope in the airship.”

Apple Bloom stopped him with a hoof to the shoulder. “I’ll come with. There’s no tellin’ how much rope we’ll need to get—”

“Hold! On!” Spike strained, leaning back as stone ground against stone. “We! Can’t! Argh! We can’t use the rope if—hugh!—I can’t get this open!”

Rumble leaned on his spear, a curled smile on his lips. “Would it help if I got out and pushed?”

Spike paused, sending a literally burning glare Rumble’s way. “It might!”

He gave the two halves one more yank, then shifted his might to one side of the trapdoor. The stone cracked beneath his hands, sending dust into the air. He used the newfound handholds to get a firmer grasp, which aided him just that little bit more. With a mighty, draconic roar, and a final bulge of his muscles, he tore the door away from its place.

It moved a total of one foot before something metal ground to a horrible, shrieking halt. His handholds turned to crumbs in his grip, sending him backward. Though he was nowhere near the door, the metallic grinding continued.

Button jerked his head right and left. “Stay away from the walls! If something comes through—!”

The wall behind Rumble caved inward, driven by a cog the size of Big Macintosh himself. It clanged like a dulled bell against the map stone, before knocking it against the trapdoor. The hinge Spike had all but ripped apart slammed back into position, this time with several tons of stone and metal on top of it.

Rumble got to his feet in a flurry of misplaced feathers. “Is anybody hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Button Mash said. He helped Apple Bloom get to her hooves by letting her lean on his shoulder. “Apple Bloom and I are fine. Spike?”

The dragon sat beside the trebly-sealed trapdoor, covered in dust but none the worse for the wear. He wiped the grit from his face and gave them a pained frown. “So much for that idea. Anyone else got a plan?”

Apple Bloom pointed behind Rumble. “How ’bout we go through the other hole you made?”

Button climbed over and around the fallen cog and reached the newly-torn hole in the wall. He stuck his head through and saw many other cogs, some spinning powerlessly and disconnected, others stuck fast by debris. He looked down, down, down to see that the cogs continued ad infinitum, or at least as far as he could see.

Apple Bloom leaned against the wall to get a look. “A’yup. Looks like I can just ’bout sneak my way through. Spike, too, since he ain’t as big as me. Is Rumble’s armor gonna be a problem?”

“Naw, I’m still skinny.” Rumble hovered, stirring up the dust with his wings. “Comparatively.”

Button turned around to face the dragon that had become their de facto leader. “We headed down, Spike? Doesn’t seem like there’s anywhere else to go.”

Spike nodded, hoisting himself onto his hind legs. “Let’s get’em.”

***

The air blasted Martial Paw and caught his wings in a torrent that could not be resisted. He shot downwards like an arrow loosed from a bow. All he could see upwards was blinding pain from the wind, and all that lay beneath was inky blackness.

A shout stole his attention, coming from up and to the right. Captain Carrot lay in the throes of freefall, uncontrolled and inescapable. Blankety Blank flashed as he morphed into his changeling form, spreading his wings and beating as hard as he could. He latched onto Care and held tight, doing everything in his power to slow her fall. “Don’t let go!”

Her armored hoof struck the wall. The shockwave radiated through her body and threw Blankety into a tailspin. Her armor made her too heavy for Blank’s filmy wings. If Martial was an arrow, she was a bullet, headed for a terribly swift landing at the bottom.

Martial tucked his wings in to reduce the wing resistance. He approached her faster than one could blink, and wrapped his forelegs around her. He laced his talons into the hinges of her armor and clamped down. “This is gonna suck for both of us!”

He spread his wings, and let out a scream as his joints protested. The wind pushed from above and tore from below. Feathers flew out of alignment. A few even tumbled off in the turbulence. She reached around his neck and held on for dear life, adding strangulation to the list of injuries he’d accumulate during the fall.

A touch of hope entered his heart as he felt them slowing down. If the fall could just last a few more meters, he might even be able to bring them in for a gentle landing.

The hope was shattered as they impacted the stone floor with a bone-rattling, but not bone-breaking, crunch. He lay there for a moment, his muscles tensed and bruised, and his throat begging for the ability to refill his lungs.

A small voice warbled up from beneath his feathered chest. “Would you please get off me?”

His voice was little more than a harsh rasp. “You’re still choking me.”

The buzz of Blankety’s wings came from above as the changeling darted to their side. “Oh gosh! Care! Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Captain Carrot released Martial’s neck at last, and he was able to pry his talons from her armor. “The enchanted shield took most of the landing.”

Martial gripped his throat and coughed, air fighting with dust for occupation of his lungs. He stumbled back to remove his bulk from atop the captain. He leaned against a stone wall and watched her stagger to her feet.

She removed her helmet and shook out her mane. She took a few deep breaths to still the shaking in her hooves. “Th—thanks for the save, Martial. I think I was a goner.”

Martial tried to think up something witty and nonchalant, but he suspected the lack of oxygen in his brain prevented this. “Sure thing. Anytime. Preferably never again.”

She took the occasion to chuckle nonetheless, despite the lack of wit and high levels of chalant. She gave Blankety a sidelong hug and turned her gaze upwards. Her horn glowed to peer into the dark heights. “Anybody see Daring?”

“It’s all good!” Daring Do shouted from above. The faintest outline could be seen of her, spiraling slowly down on outstretched wings. “Just gimme a sec!”

She floated to a gentle halt, gritting her teeth as her wings leaned back and forth. She slowly, painfully brought them back in to her sides. “Sorry. Had to lock them open to save myself. I think I used up all the good feeling from the ambrosia.”

Care leaned in to get a closer look at her wings. “Are they hurt? What’s wrong with them?”

“It’s an old condition, Cap.” Daring brushed her off, gracing her with a cockeyed grin. “There isn’t any cartilage in my wing joints. Just bone rubbing against bone. The ambrosia dulls the pain if I don’t use them, but I use them often enough for it to really suuuck.”

She flipped her pith helmet end-over-end and set it deliberately on her head. “That’s not the important thing right now. Right now, we gotta figure out how to get out of here.”

Blankety gazed upwards, his multifaceted eyes reflecting the light of Captain Carrot’s horn. “I don’t think we’re g-going back that way. Those stone doors looked b-b-big enough to flatten a house.”

“I’ll never be able to fly in this condition,” Daring said. “Aaah, screw it. How’s our chances horizontally?”

“The tunnel,” Martial Paw said, pointing his talon forward, “goes that-a-way.”

Daring Do scuffed her hoof. She shot Blankety a glance out of the corner of her eye. The little changeling blended in with the shadows, but she could still see the worry in his wide, blue eyes. “So, Blankety. That trick with your changeling magic. It was just like what happened in the Northern Wastes.”

Blankety bobbed his head noncommittally.

“My recommendation?” Daring gave him a gentle pat on the back. “Don’t touch anything metal down here.”

“Duly noted.”

***

Caballeron watched as the Painted Ones locked the door to the room. The slaves, each and every one of them, were sealed inside. Far from the room that contained the hearts, far from the room that held Sweetie Belle, and certainly far from the changeling devices Ahuizotl had collected. He followed the acolytes back to the chamber, where Ahuizotl was waiting.

“Bring fifty hearts to this room. Take the rest to the pit.” The immortal terror spoke to a young Painted One, who had just reached adulthood. “Have the others position them as needed.” He raised his head and greeted Caballeron with a smile. “Ah! Doctor! I trust the slaves are safe?”

“As can be.” Caballeron tipped his hat back. He moved to the side to allow several Painted Ones access to the chamber, each carrying a large piece of golden armor. “Shall I bring Sweetie Belle and seal the deal?”

“Indeed.” Ahuizotl chuckled. He removed the jeweled adornments from his neck and wrists. Painted Ones crowded around him to attach a full breastplate, studded with gemstones. Each stone was sized and shaped the same, a hoof-sized egg, though each was made from a different color of stone. Similarly-studded bracers and boots followed. The two curved swords were inserted into the sheathes on his back, while the Spade of Hearts found its place at his side. He topped the outfit off with a golden wreath behind his ears. “She is the lynchpin. It is time for it to be pulled.”

Caballeron looked over the discarded fineries carefully. It took three Painted Ones to carry the lot of it, but a fourth also stood by. Ahuizotl removed the sack from his side and passed it to the remaining acolyte. “I trust you know where this goes?”

The Painted One nodded silently, then trotted off.

Caballeron eyed the bag. Scootaloo’s heart resided within, and perhaps another heart. One vital to his interests. “Then I shall make my way to Miss Belle’s cell. We shan’t keep a lady nor a god waiting.”

Ahuizotl strode off, followed closely by the mechanical insectoid that had once been Dissero. Caballeron followed the four Painted Ones closely, calculating the steps until they would be out of the mad god’s sight.

Kiln and Rhombus were waiting.

Kiln picked up the first pony before he knew what was going on. He slammed the Painted One neck-first into a boulder, ending his threat forever. Rhombus flapped a single wing, and two glints of metal embedded themselves in two throats. Caballeron came up behind the last pony and covered his mouth before he could scream. A blade stabbed itself between the acolyte’s shoulder blades.

Rhombus reached a wing out to cushion the bag as it dropped. He cradled it close, a small smile coating his blood-flecked face. “Easy, Scootaloo. I’ve got you. You’re safe—”

“Open the blasted thing,” Caballeron hissed. “I want that heart, Rhombus!”

Rhombus gripped the zipper in his teeth and pulled back. One heart beat within, glowing a bright, lively purple to match Scootaloo’s eyes.

“One heart?” Caballeron gripped his mane and fought to suppress the sudden onset of rage. “Where the hell did he put it?”

Kiln sneered at their surroundings. “We need tae clean this up, or it’ll be all our necks.”

Caballeron sucked in a hot, smoke-laden breath. “We’ll play along a little longer. Kiln, you get rid of the mess. Rhombus, you and I will collect Sweetie Belle. Keep the heart close. We may need a bargaining chip for both Ahuizotl and Celestia.”

Rhombus licked his lips, the gears moving beneath his ears. “We should grab Scootaloo’s body from the slave room. Make sure she gets—”

“That—” Caballeron pressed the bag against Rhombus’ chest. “—is far easier to carry than a full-grown pegasus mare with a chip on her shoulder. We take the heart and nothing else. Agreed?”

He shared a glare between Kiln and Rhombus. “Agreed?”

Kiln had no hesitation. “Aye.”

Rhombus gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes. “Oh, believe me. I know I don’t have to like it.”

“Then let’s move.” Caballeron ran down the corridor as Kiln hoisted the four bodies onto his back. “And get out of here before he drops the sun on our heads!”

The Monster Confronted

The gear squeaked beneath Button’s hooves as he slid across its surface. He gave another tug at the rope around his midsection, then peered back at the source. Rumble hovered over the gear it’d been tied to, making sure it was secure. Button got the nod, and was then waved forward.

It was a perilous trek down the gear system to whatever destination might lie below. One false step spelled disaster, and his legs provided the opportunity for at least four false steps. The gears were polished to an impossible degree, and greased to boot. They were made to slide smoothly. To turn easily. To kill, decidedly.

But they weren’t moving. That was a boon. If they were moving, it would have been a simple thing to get somebody’s tail caught and drag them between the teeth. Just like in—

“Daring Do and the Abhorred Shears?” Rumble said, sweat running down his coat.

“I was thinking the same thing.” Button Mash’s hoof slipped, but his movement was halted by Fire Brigade-class knots. “Of course, if anybody finds the Shears of Fate down here, please, don’t keep it to yourself.”

Rumble swallowed hard as Apple Bloom took her turn in the descent. He offered her a hoof for leverage, then cinched her harness tight. “Now that I think of it… Are they actually real? I mean, Daring Do is real. Like, to a ridiculous degree. Are any of the stories true? All of them? Most of them?”

“After hearin’ a name like Ahuizotl said with a straight face,” Apple Bloom said, “I’ll believe anythin’.”

Rumble helped her take her first step down, and then she was on her own. He moved to the side to allow Spike access to the gear system. “What about you, Spike? What do you know about it?”

Spike tapped a clawtip against metal as Rumble secured him. “I’m not gonna say they’re totally truthful autobiographies, necessarily.”

Button reached out to touch the wall. It appeared to be made of a different material than the gears. It wasn’t stone, either. It was a translucent, amber-like plate, embedded into the wall. A few more could be seen, dotted around the gearbox. If he pointed his lantern downward, he could see that the entire floor was built out of a hexagonal pattern of these plates. A pinprick of light glowed a faint yellow beyond them.

“Check it out,” he said. “Looks like there’s a light behind those plates.”

“What sorta light?” Apple Bloom leaned over the edge of the gear above his. “Magic? Torches?”

“Can’t tell. Almost looks like a horn.” Button looked up and over his shoulder. “Might be Captain Carrot.”

“Might be something else.” Rumble flew down easily, flapping his wings gently so as not to smack a gear or the wall. He hovered over the plates and gave them a gentle tap. “Looks like these aren’t anchored with cement or anything. Maybe we can pry them aside?”

Spike gripped the edge of a gear tight as he lowered himself to the next level. “Depends on how heavy they are. Gimme a sec. It might be our only way down.”

Button, Apple Bloom, and Spike reached the floor in short order. Rumble tested his weight against one of the plates and found it to be sturdy enough. They all lowered themselves to different surfaces, still roped to the gear shaft and safety.

Spike ran his claws between the edges of the plates. “You’re right. No cement or glue. It doesn’t look too heavy. At least not as heavy as the trapdoor. Just need to get a grip.”

He positioned himself to one side and gripped with his claws. Rumble levered the tip of his spear into the small gap and leaned against the shaft. Spike lifted, Rumble pulled. Apple Bloom and Button glanced at each other, then took a few steps back as the ground shifted.

It came away. Not easily, but quickly enough. On closer inspection, Button could see etched lines making their way through the crystal—probably channels to allow magic to flow through them. The panel was hoisted to the side and allowed to rest against its brethren.

Without the discoloration of the amber tile, the light came clear in Button’s vision. It was a soft, pale green, emanating sparks and magic ambiance from a spiraled horn. The horn rested among locks of curled mane, its light accompanied by the shine of two glistening green eyes.

A clear, strong voice came from the light. “Who’s there?”

“Oh my gosh! Sweetie Belle!” Apple Bloom nearly tumbled through the opening in her rush to speak. “Sweetie, it’s really you! You’re okay!”

“Apple Bloom?” Sweetie Belle stood up and paced around the floor of the dark room. “What are you doing here?”

“We came to rescue you!” Spike motioned for Rumble to jump through the opening. “Scope out the room. Make sure we’re safe.”

Rumble opened his wings and glided around, the light from his armor illuminating a small diameter around him. Two cages, their wooden bars spanning from the floor to the ceiling. A pool of water. Stalactites hanging down and dripping minerals. A door made from blocks of metal.

“There’s nopony here.” Rumble landed beside Sweetie’s cage and waved for them to drop a rope. “Where’s Scootaloo?”

Sweetie ran up to the bars and leaned against them. Her voice hitched, then raised. “They took her and—oh—Listen, you just have to trust me when I say this. Ahuizotl took her heart! He has this dagger—”

Rumble bumped his head against the wood, his eyes shut tight. “No, no, no, no…”

“We know about the dagger, Sweetie.” Button Mash slid down a half-meter at a time, his knees knocking with each passing moment. “D-Daring Do filled us in.”

“Daring Do?” Sweetie cantered his way, rubbing her temple. “Scootaloo was right! She really is real!”

“Is there any way to restore her to normal?” Apple Bloom started her downward climb the instant Button’s hoof touched stone. “There’s gotta be, right? Do you know where they’ve taken her heart?”

“It’s with Ahuizotl!” Sweetie Belle extinguished her horn as the lantern light filled the room. “And her body is with the other ponies they’ve enslaved. It’s so awful.”

Button stopped a step away from Sweetie Belle, his heart racing. His knees still knocked, even though the climb was long over. She looked so tired. Worn out and sorrowful. Bags lay beneath her eyes. Her coat was matted. Her mane and tail limp.

She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve to have this happen to her.

She looked at him, and their eyes locked. He felt warmth in his chest, and twisting in his stomach.

“W—” She swallowed and tried again, with a slightly stronger voice. “We have to save them. They need us.”

He nodded, taking the last step needed to bring them face-to-face. “We will. I promise.”

He turned away and shuffled through his saddlebags. He brushed the remains of River aside to reach his bandages. “Are you hurt? I’ve got lots of medical supplies.”

“I’m low on… on ambrosia.” Sweetie blushed and ran a hoof over her foreleg. “I’m getting headaches without it.”

“I’ve got a couple emergency doses.” He plucked a silvery canister from the depths of his supplies and held it out to her. She unscrewed it with a quick spell and sipped the medicine, taking a deep breath afterwards. “I think there’s three more, if we need it.”

“This’ll do for now.” Sweetie Belle shifted to the side to let a rushing Apple Bloom reach her. They hugged each other tight through the bars.

Apple Bloom choked back a sob. “I shoulda been there.”

“You’d’ve been taken, too. Or worse.” Sweetie brushed a tear away and giggled. “I much prefer you coming to the rescue now.”

Spike’s feet hit the floor with a decisive thud. He waddled his way over on his hind legs, looking the cage up and down. “So what’s the deal with this thing? How do we get you out?”

Sweetie Belle broke off the hug and tapped a bar. “They use some sort of earth pony magic to make the wood come alive. Got any ideas, Apple Bloom? Button?”

“I know how to grow apples,” Apple Bloom said. “Not imprison ponies.”

Button Mash shrugged, giving the wood a close inspection. “I dunno. It’s not like anything I’ve ever heard of. I mean, unicorn magic has a ‘come to life’ spell, but this seems different.”

“It’s simple.” Spike dug his claws into the wood, squeezing tight and tearing away splinters. “This is wood. I’ve got fire. It’s a wash.”

Button nudged Rumble in the shoulder. “Now he’s what I call an OP party member.”

Rumble glanced up from staring into space. He clicked the butt of his spear against the ground. “Hurry up, then. We need to get moving.”

He narrowed his eyes at the one entrance to the room: The mechanical device that looked more like a puzzle than a door. “Button and I’ll figure out how to get that thing open. Maybe we’ll run into the others.”

Button Mash sucked in air to steel his nerves. “Maybe we’ll run into Ahuizotl.”

“Hay, come on.” Rumble patted him on the shoulder with a wing. “What’re the odds? Chances are, Daring Do and the others are already tearing up—”

The door folded open, and the two of them ground to a halt. Caballeron and the young, blue-maned pegasus halted gap-jawed on the other side.

The pegasus grinned and flicked a wing forward.

“Down!” Rumble shouted, pushing Button to the ground. Three glints of metal sailed over their heads like bees on the warpath.

Spike gasped and pulled Apple Bloom behind him. He stood in front of the two mares and braced himself. The three wingblades embedded themselves in the scales of his chest, nowhere near penetrating his hide.

“Rhombus! Hold!” Caballeron flicked the brace on his right foreleg. A blade slid out, attached to a swivel that locked into place. He pointed it at the younger ponies, his face a grim snarl. “Who are you and wha—” He caught sight of Button Mash, and his expression changed. Puzzlement, realization, and annoyance all flickered across in short order. “Well. The hero returns.”

Button shook. He’d been a hair away from dying. Again. Any lower—and if Rumble’d been any slower—those blades would have gone through his head. “Oh gosh. Caballeron.”

Spike growled and crawled towards the newcomers, shifting to all fours to move a bit faster. Rhombus held up a small bag wrapped around his fetlock. “Careful where you step, dragon. None of us want to see Scootaloo hurt.”

Spike halted. He dug his clawtips into the solid stone. “What do you want?”

Rumble leveled his spear at Rhombus, his teeth grinding together. “I swear if you don’t hand over Scootaloo right now, I’ll run you through from your nose to your dock!”

“Aha!” Rhombus dangled the bag back and forth. “You hear that, Doctor? That’s the sound of passion.”

“Now,” Caballeron said, “is not the time.”

“It almost sounds like this colt—” Rhombus spat the word. “—thinks Scootaloo belongs to him.”

“Now is not the time!” Caballeron’s shout sent Rhombus’ ears flat against his head. The doctor took a step forward, lowering his blade, but keeping it ready. “It seems we both have something the other wants. We have Scootaloo—half of her.” He eyed Rumble carefully. “And you have found a way out.”

“You have a game.” Button edged himself back and behind Rumble, praying that the riot gear would be enough to stop a speeding wingblade. For some reason, he doubted that was the case. “Caballeron always has a game.”

Caballeron once again turned his attention to Button, his lip turning up. He shook his head slowly and clicked his tongue, his ears twitching. “You sound like somebody who’s just seen a storybook character come to life, don’t you?” His eyebrows lowered as his forehead creased. “Daring Do is here, isn’t she?”

Button heard the heavy breathing of Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle behind him. Spike remained between them and Caballeron, his muscles poised for a pounce. Rumble looked ready to charge screaming. His spear shook so hard its point seemed to drift on and off its intended target.

“If you’re so ready to leave,” Button said, “why were you here in the first place?”

Caballeron smirked, his eyes remaining as dark and murderous as ever. “Ahuizotl took something from me: A heart I find most precious. I cannot leave until I’ve gotten it. And you, it seems, cannot leave without a little liberation of your own.”

His eyes drifted over the other ponies in the room, lingering on the resident dragon. “A proposition for you; let us pass and take Sweetie Belle to Ahuizotl. She shall come to no harm. In turn, I shall allow you to pass through Ahuizotl’s headquarters unhindered. My only request is that in your quest to free your friends, that you also find the heart I seek.”

“None of us,” Spike growled, “are willing to let you take Sweetie again.”

“She is literally vital to Ahuizotl’s plan.” Caballeron exchanged a glance with Rhombus, who shifted his wings to reveal tens of blades hidden beneath his feathers. “Therefore, he will not allow her to come to harm. It is perhaps the safest place she can be under the circumstances.” He lifted his eyes to Sweetie Belle herself. “It is the best chance you have to save everyone.”

Rhombus sent Rumble a smile like the edge of a knife. “And you can start with Scootaloo.”

Sweetie Belle gripped the bars of her cell. “If I don’t go, Ahuizotl will be looking for me, won’t he?”

Caballeron nodded lightly. “The entire complex will be up in arms. They will be after you, your friends, and my own hide as well. I would respectfully request that not be the case.”

Button twisted around to look square at Sweetie. She couldn’t be considering it, could she? There’s no way. They came to save her. Letting her go for even a second—

“I need to go.” Sweetie Belle pressed her forehead against the wood. “If only to buy you guys more time.”

Button threw a hoof out. “There’s no way we can trust Caballeron!”

“As a peace offering,” Caballeron said, his voice gravelly and strained, “we’ll hand over Scootaloo’s heart.”

Rhombus reared back, his teeth bared at the older stallion. “What?”

“If we’re caught with it, we’re dead.” Caballeron folded the blade back against his brace. “It will be safer with them. She will be safer with them.”

Apple Bloom snapped her gaze between Caballeron and Sweetie, her jaw agape. “But—b-but—”

“You didn’t feel it,” Sweetie Belle said quietly. “You didn’t feel how scared the prisoners are. How lost they feel. You don’t know what it’s like.” She blinked up at Apple Bloom and heaved a sigh. “I have to help them in every way I can.”

Spike scoured the rock ground with his claws. He sat up and crossed his arms with a low grumble. “I don’t trust you. I don’t think you can do anything to make me trust you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to trust me… Spike.” Caballeron matched Spike’s pose and leaned against the doorway. “You just have to do the right thing.”

Rhombus stepped back into the portal, Scootaloo’s bag clutched tight to his chest. He kept his wings flared, ready to attack at any given moment. “We can’t.”

Caballeron tilted his head forward, lowering the brim of his hat to the edge of his eyes. “Give them the sack, Rhombus.”

Rhombus snorted steam at Rumble. Rumble snorted in kind.

“Give them Scootaloo,” Caballeron said, “or we all die.”

Apple Bloom cantered closer. “Set the heart on the ground.”

Spike reached for her, but she waved him off. “It’s all good,” she said. “We got this.”

“Wait.” Button put his foreleg out to stop her. He kept his eyes on Rhombus, watching the stallion’s muscles twitch with energy. “Let him set it down first.”

Rhombus chuckled, cheerless and dangerous. He folded his wings in and set the bag gently in the dirt. He flicked an ear at Rumble. “I’m not giving her to you. I’m giving her to the oversized haystack over there.”

Something vile boiled up in Button Mash’s chest. Red threatened to tinge the edges of his vision. How dare he say that to Apple Bloom? He forced the pressure back and focused on the deal Caballeron had set before them. Scootaloo’s safety for Sweetie’s. In his opinion, it wasn’t even worth considering. They had come to save them both. They’d come to stop Caballeron and rescue all the ponies he’d kidnapped.

“Please,” Sweetie said. “You need to get Scootaloo out of here.”

Button’s eyes caught hers. They locked gazes for a brief moment. And that’s when he saw it; she’d already made her decision.

“If you love something,” he muttered.

“If we’re going to save everybody—” He sent Caballeron a hot glare. “—including you, we’d better hurry up.”

Spike’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me?”

Caballeron pushed off the wall and waltzed past Rumble’s spear. “There’s a boy. Come now, we can’t waste time.”

Apple Bloom scooped up Scootaloo’s heart without a second thought. She held it close to the chest, her eyes never leaving Rhombus’ wings for a moment.

Rumble shook his head, lowering the tip of his spear ever so slightly. He swallowed hard, casting a glance at the bag holding the lifeforce of his friend. His shoulders hunched as he let out a pained sigh.

Caballeron tipped his hat to Spike. “Now I’d rather you start trusting me, if only because my life is in your claws.” He drew a yellow stone from his shirt pocket and pressed it against the wooden bar. It glowed with earth pony magic, sending Caballeron’s strength into the root. The wood riggled and roiled as life returned to it, and Caballeron directed it to shift to the side.

Sweetie Belle exited her cell with slow, steady hoofsteps. She pushed her glasses up her nose and stood still, looking over the friends that had come to her rescue. She paused at Button, opened her mouth to say something, but hesitated. She shook her head and cantered a path to the doorway, where Rhombus waited.

Caballeron stood tall as he followed his captive. “Ahuizotl’s Painted Ones are occupied with preparations below and in the antechamber at the end of the tunnel. The prisoners should be relatively unguarded, and the hearts likewise. Beware, though. Once you are discovered, you will have a hundred bloodthirsty heathens to contend with.”

“O-only a hundred?” Apple Bloom said, her voice as shaky as her hooves. “Th-that’s nothin’.”

Caballeron ignored her, instead opting to lead Sweetie Belle forward with a hoof on her shoulder. He heard Spike growl, but the dragon kept his silence. Rhombus sent them a cheery grin, his jaw tightening when he waved at Apple Bloom. They entered the corridor beyond, and Button raced to the portal to watch them go.

He turned his head to find himself with a face-full of dragon smoke. Button’s eyes stung as Spike hissed in his ear. “What was that?”

Button yanked himself back and cleared the air with a hoof. “I was getting us through a sticky situation—”

“You were bargaining with Sweetie’s life!” Spike pointed a claw at Button’s chest. “We should have just stopped them cold then and there.”

Button took another step back, but stopped short of entering the corridor. “And risked Scootaloo’s life for it? And maybe gotten killed ourselves? Those blades—”

“Are stuck in my chest.” Spike reached up to pluck a wingblade from his scales. “I think we’d be fine.”

“What were you gonna do?” Button asked. “Barbecue them? Hold them still while Rumble skewers them? How were you going to keep Scootaloo and Sweetie safe?”

Spike held his hands out, gritting his teeth. He clenched his fists and took in a deep breath. “We would have figured something out.”

Apple Bloom stomped a hoof between the two. “We got half of Scootaloo back. Can we just frickin’ stop fightin’ ourselves an’ work with what we have? Ponies are counting on us.”

Spike opened his fist and let a mangled, twisted wingblade fall to the cavern floor. “Alright. Let’s go. They’ve got enough of a head start by now.”

Rumble kicked the tiny bit of metal, sucking in a cheek. “Yknow, the first thing they teach the new recruits is that our armor doesn’t stop these things. The air force doesn’t even use them because you’re more likely to cut off your own wings than use them right. You’re lucky you’re thick-skinned.”

He took a step towards Apple Bloom and reached out a wing. “Attach her bag to my armor. The forcefield should keep it cushioned.”

Button eyed the bag as Rumble and Apple Bloom exchanged it. Something felt strange about it. It was clearly Scootaloo’s heart; he could feel the familiar glow of her magic even from several steps away. But something Caballeron said—

“Uh oh.”

Spike swung his tail, narrowly avoiding scouring the wall with it. “What is it now?”

“If Caballeron is telling the truth—” Button gulped. “—then he just foisted off the only incriminating evidence he had onto us.”

This time, Spike cut a deep furrow in the stone with a flick of his tail. “How do you feel about trusting the known criminal now, Button?”

***

Daring Do peered down over a ledge and idly picked her teeth with a hoof. Their tunnel had led them through dark twists and turns, always echoing the sounds of ponies carrying metal objects. The trail had led them to a newly-busted opening in the wall, which had crumbled in the face of an energy weapon of some kind. Just below, she could see the intentional damage, where Ahuizotl’s typical Painted Ones were doing their mad god’s work.

The antechamber was large, enough to fit a good-sized galleon with room to spare. It seemed bare, though, at least as far as the Painted One’s torches could cast light. Just sheer rock walls on all sides.

That said, the floor held some interest. It was made up of rings that swirled outward, all forged from that same bronze-colored metal that reacted so strangely to changelings. Writing was etched along each ring, which was impossible to make out from their height. In the center of the rounded room, a bowl was sunk into the floor, which contained several receptacles for what could only be hearts.

And hearts there were. Around fifty of them, all nestled into the bow and awaiting “The Whim of Ahuizotl.” That seemed to mean that at least fifty ponies had survived Ahuizotl’s idiocy. They’d have to seek out wherever the bodies were imprisoned.

Hopefully, that didn’t mean splitting up any more than they already were.

“Ten Painted Ones in the room,” Martial breathed. “Six armed with spears, four unarmed. More down the corridor. I don’t see Caballeron or Ahuizotl.”

“Me either. That bugs me.” She pushed him back as another sound came to light, that of Ahuizotl’s voice. “Back. Here comes the big guy himself.”

Ahuizotl entered the room in all his glory, draped with finery that Daring surmised was some new sort of battle armor. Gemstones glistened against his chest, channeling dark magic. Two curved blades with red pommel stones crossed his back, with the Spade of Hearts nestled between them.

Daring glanced at Blankety. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head towards the ceiling. He nodded and crawled his way up the wall, his cloven hooves gripping tightly to the stone.

“My Painted Ones!” Ahuizotl crowed, and everybody in the room stopped to listen. “Today marks a new beginning for the forgotten children of the world! As a family we have planted these seeds, and as a family we shall reap the harvest of the sun!”

Care Carrot leaned in with narrow eyes. “A fireball through the skull would shut him up.”

“Don’t think so, Cap,” Daring whispered. “Ahuizotl always wears armor that absorbs magic from the sun. Your little firecracker might not do the trick.”

“Noted.”

Ahuizotl extended a claw towards the entryway. “Sweetie Belle, come forth.”

Martial’s talon gripped the hilt of his rapier. “One mystery solved. What is this, a sacrifice to some vengeful deity?”

“Ahuizotl’s the only god Ahuizotl cares about.” Daring scratched beneath her helmet. “Get ready to dive if it looks like she’s gonna get hurt.”

Sweetie Belle trotted in swiftly and assuredly, Caballeron at her side. Daring couldn’t see any of Caballeron’s thugs, Kiln or Rhombus, so she made a note to keep them in mind. Sweetie halted a short distance away from the hearts and called to Ahuizotl. “Where are the other hearts? There’s only fifty here!”

“The others shall serve their own purpose,” Ahuizotl said, looming over her. “By which I mean they shall serve my purpose.”

“Cuss.” Daring Do leaned against the ledge and pressed her mouth against her foreleg. “Couldn’t keep all your eggs in one basket just this once, could yah?”

Ahuizotl drew the Spade of Hearts with his tail’s hand. He swung it overhead, grinning from ear to grotesque ear. “Sing, Sweetie Belle! Sing for these scattered hearts! Unite them to one purpose! Sing for me!”

Sweetie Belle spun around, her head swinging as she took in every corner of the room. Finding nothing but darkness, she turned to the lights at the center, glowing with discordant heartbeats. She pressed a hoof against her chest. Her lips trembled.

Care pressed a hoof against Daring’s back. “I don’t think we wanna know what happens when he activates that thing.”

“I don’t think we have a choice. Not with these odds.” Daring leaned over just far enough to reassure herself she’d counted all the Painted Ones in the room. “Marty, you swoop in and grab Sweetie, but only after Care and I get you an opening. I’m not gonna watch you go down to a stray spear—those things are enchanted to heck and back. Fire, ice, energy blasts, the works. Care, you and I gotta catch those two bozos off guard. Get them disarmed and conked out before they know what hit them. The other four will take a few seconds to reach us, and by then Marty’ll be on his way out the tunnel.”

Martial drew his rapier and held it loosely in one talon. “And Ahuizotl?”

“That’s what Blankety’s for.” Daring peered at the ceiling, where only the slightest of movements could be seen among the shadows. “Capital grade-A distraction.”

Sweetie Belle squared her hooves and faced the hearts. Her eyes closed as she shut out Ahuizotl, the Painted Ones, and the darkness that surrounded her. Her breath slowed and her horn glowed a faint green.

Martial tilted his head to one side to get a better look. “What is she—?”

“Shh!” Daring waved him back. “Something’s about to happen. Get yourself ready.”

Sweetie Belle opened her mouth, and the sweetest, strongest voice Daring had ever heard struck her to the very core.

“Help is coming
Time is wasting
We are ready
At last to see a victory

“Climb for the light
Fight for what’s right
With all your might
Because the dangers are growing

“Stand together
Here forever
We will never
Become an evil thing’s treasure

“Gather power
Darkest hour
Never cower
Magic unleashing its shower!”

With one thunderous pulse, the hearts united in a single beat. Magic flowed through the bronze-colored metal, snaking its way between the rings and around the room. Tumblers and gearwork too massive to comprehend clattered behind the walls. Ahuizotl and his Painted Ones stumbled in the face of a sudden tremor.

The rings rotated, one layer clockwise, the next counterclockwise, and so forth until it reached the epicenter. The rings moved as smooth as butter, unmarred or slowed by their years of disuse. Sweetie Belle scrambled to get all four feet onto one ring, her song stalled into silence.

“Keep singing, Sweetie Belle!” Ahuizotl commanded. “Sings to the hearts’ content!”

Caballeron stumbled his way towards the edge, slipping and sliding. He craned his neck in an effort to keep his balance. A hoof found a rock wall at the edge of the torchlight, lending stability.

He raised his eyes to the ceiling. Daring Do ducked out of view.

“Caballeron’s up to something,” Daring said.

Martial steadied himself against the wall and spread a wing. “Why do you say that?”

“He’s not nearly as scared out of his mind as he ought to be.”

Ahuizotl’s booming voice overtook the thoughts jumbling themselves up in Daring’s head. “Sing louder! Sing stronger! Sing my eternal reign to life!”

“So…” Care Carrot leveled her horn at the gathered Painted Ones. “About that plan…”

Several of the spear users were riding the rings back and forth, under Ahuizotl’s direction. Their position changed rapidly, chaotically, defying even Daring Do’s ability to craft a killer strategy. “I don’t feel like waiting around for either Caballeron or Ahuizotl to make their next move.”

Martial rested the rapier blade in his palm. “And?”

“And I got a score to settle.” Daring gritted her teeth and pressed her pith helmet firmly against her mane. “Wait until he’s on the far side of the room, then take out whatever Painted Ones are in your way.”

***

Button Mash moved his legs as fast as they would go. Keeping up with the long strides of Apple Bloom, the hurried scurry of Spike, and the swift wingbeats of Rumble was no easy task.

Trusting Caballeron at all was stupid. That was easy enough to see. But what else could they have done? There was no way to win the fight without losing something irreplaceable. But giving Caballeron any sort of leverage without a real backup plan of their own…

Button’s ears perked up, and his eyes raised just in the nick of time. He dug his hooves in to slow himself down, hissing at his friends. “Wait—!”

Voices. Lots of them. Familiar and otherwise.

Some short distance down the corridor, the wall fell away into a yawning abyss of a chasm. Nothing but inky blackness waited to swallow up any who dared descry its depths. But unfortunately, that was not the most dangerous thing in their path.

No, the most dangerous thing was the wall of painted warriors standing at the ready, spears in hoof.

Button’s first thought was that they’d been sold out, just like Spike feared. Closer inspection caught sight of Rhombus standing before the hunting party, his wings slack and comfortable at his sides. Another pony stood beside him, a tall earth pony with a too-small hat. Button recognized him as the third pony who had kidnapped Sweetie and Scootaloo; the massive bruiser.

A Painted One wearing a purple cloak spoke in a small, razor-edged voice. “Your claims mean little. We are still missing four of our acolytes, and I’m certain Ahuizotl’s adornments are quite valuable on the collectors market.”

Rhombus brushed a hoof across his chest in what Button supposed was mock surprise. “Listen, Confuse-o—”

“It’s Confuto.”

“Confuse-o, I haven’t seen a single glint of gold this entire time. Any value I’ll find on this venture is more on the intrinsic side.”

The big pony shook his head. “Sure an’ we’ll help ye find yer kinfolk, assumin’ ye need the help.”

Button slide beside Apple Bloom, unsure of what their next step was. There was no way of getting past the Painted Ones, and Caballeron’s goons sure wouldn’t rush to their aid. No way around them for those without wings. Would Spike charge? Rumble throw his spear? Would they be cut down before they could think?

Apple Bloom touched Spike’s shoulder and nudged him to the side. She pulled a round jar from her saddlebags, one containing a single seed. She showed the device to Spike, got a nod, and reeled her foreleg back. She sent it flying towards the Painted Ones in a gentle arc.

The Painted Ones’ leader saw the approach and slipped to the side with ease. The bottle hit the floor with a wet plop. “Trespassers! You defy the whim of Ahuizotl with water balloons?”

“Ain’t water,” Apple Bloom yelped from around the corner. “It’s a quick-grow formula.”

The Painted Ones—alongside Rhombus and the bruiser—looked up at her with nothing less than utter bewilderment.

“All I’m sayin’,” Apple Bloom said, “is don’t touch the buds.”

The seed split with an ear-shattering pop. Green vines snaked their way through the crowd of Painted Ones, entangling them or tripping them up. Red buds covered in white polka dots appeared, which soon opened up to reveal not a flower, but row upon row of razor-sharp teeth.

“Piranha Plant!” A Painted One dove away, its spear lost to the vicious, carnivorous plant. “Run for your lives!”

Rumble thrust his spear forward, indicating the center of the melee. The main mass of the Piranha Plant kept the Painted Ones occupied at the edges, leaving a small, precious space to slip through. “Now’s our chance! Move it!”

Button found himself harried forward by Apple Bloom’s brusque strides. She brought her mouth close to his ear and hissed. “Seriously, don’t touch the buds if you wanna keep your hooves.”

Rumble took point, stepping carefully around the thorny vines even as they grasped for flesh. Spike and Apple Bloom joined him, Apple Bloom leaping over most of the mess and Spike batting away stray spearheads. Button took the rear, and found himself victim of a thousand tiny scratches from the thorns. Thankfully, Piranha Plants were not poisonous, but still quite irritating.

Rhombus landed beside him and gripped him in a tight over-the-shoulder hug. “Not a bad plan! Not bad at all! A little warning would have been nice.”

Sweat beaded up on Button’s nose. He would have been a physical match for the pegasus, if not for the wingblades hidden amongst the feathers. There was also the fact that Rhombus had a deep history with murder. “I—uh—sorry, I guess.”

Rhombus’ eyes danced around Button’s saddlebags. Not finding what he was looking for, he released him. “Haven’t left Scoot-to-the-lee behind, have you?”

The Painted Ones strained behind the vines of the plant. A few unlucky souls tried to climb down into the pit, but were quickly snatched up by grasping vines. Button’s discomfort grew as a toothy bud turned their way, digestive fluids dripping from its mouth. “We oughta get moving—”

Rhombus was already hovering overhead. “Hurry up, Kiln. We have a schedule to keep.”

Kiln hauled himself out of a tangle of vines, suffering various small cuts and bruises. “Don’t get yer feathers in a flurry.”

Rumble and Spike made it safely to the far side of the brambles, followed closely by Apple Bloom and Rhombus. Button crossed over next, with Kiln practically breathing down his neck. Most of the Painted Ones were trapped or injured, the fight completely knocked out of them.

The Painted Ones’ leader fought to free one foreleg from the tangle. “Your will learn to fear Confuto! High Priest of Ahuizotl! Successor to Dissero!”

Rumble spread his wings to pat the bag attached to his side, reassuring himself it was still there. “If we’re not gonna try to kill each other, we should probably run.”

Rhombus grinned as he caught sight of the protective sack. “Ah! So you carry Scootaloo’s heart with you after all! Isn’t it precious?”

Kiln looked at each of them in turn, his forehead furrowing. “Who are all these?”

“Allies at the moment.” Rhombus glanced over his shoulder, even as he walked down the corridor. “Trust me whe—”

Apple Bloom’s shriek broke through the conversation to strike right at the heart. “Oh my gosh, no!”

Button Mash heard the crackle of magic behind him an instant before the flames licked at his tail. A shock of explosive force knocked him to the ground, chin-first. The shield generated by his riot gear flickered and faded.

Button rolled onto his back as Rumble leaped over his head. The full armor of a Royal Guardspony was far better able to take the next fireball thrown from the brambles. Button craned his neck to see the high priest, half bound by the Piranha Plant, raising a ruby-red orb in one hoof. A spattering of speech from the priest, a glimmer of magic in the orb, and another projectile shot forth.

Rumble took it full in the chest with barely a flinch. “I’ll deal with this! You guys keep going!”

He hesitated before also addressing Button: “Take Scootaloo. Put her back together for me.”

Button was about to object when he saw other Painted Ones pulling free of the plant. Time was of the essence, and if anypony was prepared to deal with it, it was either the resident dragon or the soldier-at-large. Button slipped his hoof beneath Rumble’s wing and detached the bag. Spike and Apple Bloom had already charged down the tunnel. He turned to bolt for it.

He ran neck-first into the joint of Rhombus’ wing. He crumpled to the ground, his windpipe feeling like it was clogged with burning paper. Rhombus picked up Scootaloo’s heart gently, caressing it with a wingtip.

Kiln gaped at his companion. “Are we on their side or nae?”

Rumble turned on Rhombus, his lips pulled back in a sneer. “What the heck!”

The next fireball from the High Priest threw him against the wall. He pressed the butt of his spear against the ground to haul himself back to his hooves.

Rhombus grinned down at the choking Button Mash. “Relax. Scootaloo’s in safe hooves now. You needn’t worry ’bout a thing.”

“Horseapples!” Rumble swung his spear at Rhombus, but the other pegasus danced nimbly out of the way. Rumble turned back to the growing crowd of Painted Ones and gritted his teeth. “Button! Get up! You gotta move!”

Button’s legs felt like jelly. His chest, tight. His face, fuming. He pressed against a ground that refused to move, with legs that refused to stand.

“C’mon, Kiln,” Rhombus said. “Let’s leave them to their fate.”

Kiln scowled, but ran into the darkness all the same. Rhombus paused at the edge. He looked back at Rumble, an eyebrow raised. A slow, sinister smile trickled across his teeth like a stream of blood.

A blade gleamed among his feathers as he raised a wing.

With a scream torn from the darkest depths of his soul, Button Mash charged. His forehead struck Rhombus’ chin with a deafening crack! The blade flew free, but several inches off course.

The wingblade sizzled its way through the air to embed itself deep into the shoulder of the high priest. Confuto howled, clutching the wound with his free hoof. Rumble took the opening and jabbed forward, his blade aimed right for the priests’ throat.

Confuto saw the attack and raised the orb out of sheer animal reflex. The gemstone and the spearhead connected, and deflected each other. A sharp snap caused the priest to stagger back, and Rumble to scramble to regain control of his spearhead.

Cracks spiderwebbed across the surface of the gemstone. Fierce magic boiled from within, seeking an exit. Confuto’s eyes widened. He tossed the orb past Rumble, letting it skitter up to Button Mash’s side.

Rhombus kicked Button back with his hind legs and stumbled down the corridor as fast as he could. He left the sack behind, out in the open, right next to the overloading magic device.

Button scooped Scootaloo’s heart against his chest. He jumped a measly couple meters away from the orb and covered her with his body.

The orb detonated in a blast of heat and magic. The shockwave picked Button up and dropped him right over the edge of the pit. He reached a foreleg out to snag the edge, but the stone crumbled beneath his hoof.

Rumble reached out and grasped the hoof tight. He held fast for a critical moment, his muscles straining with the weight. He leaned back with all his might. “C’mon, work with me here!”

Button got a view over Rumble’s shoulder. Confuto approached, spear in hoof, its blade glowing with a menacing purple light. Button got time for one gasp before the spear plunged into Rumble’s armor. The blade pinned his wing against his side. Rumble screamed.

Button grasped his friend tightly as they slowly fell over into the pit. Confuto levered them in, a wide grin on his muzzle. “So fall all the enemies of the Almighty Ahui—”

Rumble’s legs failed him completely. The sudden movement twisted the spear out of Confuto’s grip, where the butt smacked him across the eyes. He fell back against the stone. Rumble and Button fell into the pit.

Every muscle in Button’s body twitched in unison as he gazed into the dark depths. He had only the mind for a throaty shout, a tight grip on Rumble, and keen grasp on Scootaloo’s heart. Dead. That was it. They were all dead. Super-duper dead!

Rumble grunted and spread his free wing. It caught the air and spun them into a loop. He gave it a powerful flap which sent them careening against the wall. The blow nearly jostled Scootaloo out of Button’s hooves. The spear hit the wall next, snapping the shaft clean off. Rumble tried again and caught enough air to slow them down. He leaned into his good wing, putting all their weight on it, pumping as much magic as he could into it.

Their downward spiral turned into a downward slope. Sweat poured from beneath Rumble’s helmet. “We’re gonna make it! We—”

He hit the far wall headfirst. They dropped the remaining five meters to the floor.

Button lay on his back, Scootaloo’s gemstone heart beating against his chest. He breathed a sigh of relief, then promptly succumbed to unconsciousness.

***

Spike fell to his knees as they reached a fork in the road. Apple Bloom bent down to pick him up, looping her foreleg beneath his armpit.

He looked up as Kiln appeared out of the darkness. “Where’s Rumble? Where’s Button?”

“The others?” Kiln pulled his lips back, obviously mulling over his answer. “They stayed tae stop the Painted Ones from followin’. Rhombus, too. We might wanna make the most of the opportunity.”

Apple Bloom hitched her saddlebags tighter. Not because they were loose, but just out of nervous habit. She looked down each of the corridors open to them. One left, one right. “Which way d’we go?”

Kiln furrowed his brow and pointe down the left path. “That way lies the prisoners.” He pointed right. “That way’s where we took Sweetie Belle.”

Spike stared the way they’d came. Rumble and Button couldn’t hold out forever, if at all. But until they could find Aunt Yearling, this was it.

“Apple Bloom…” He looked up at the mare, who gave him her attention immediately. “If you go rescue the prisoners, I can get Sweetie back.”

Apple Bloom shook her head. “No! I ain’t leavin’ you!”

“You might be the best chance we have.” He took her hoof gently between his hands. “Ahuizotl’s gonna be in there. And the rest of his Painted Ones. You’ll be able to keep the prisoners safe. And me?” He tapped a claw against the scar on his scaly chest. “There’s nothing that’s gonna hurt me.”

Apple Bloom’s eyes jumped around willy-nilly, never focusing on one thing for more than a second.

“Apple Bloom, look at me.” Spike smiled. “Do you trust me?”

She met his eyes, but Spike found no warmth. No reassurance. No understanding. “I guess.”

“Then go.” Spike released her and started his way towards the antechamber. He glared at Kiln. “If you betray us—if you hurt her—I’ll remember you.”

“Nae harm’ll come her way.” Kiln was just a bit taller than Apple Bloom, and easily looked her in the eye. “Come, lass. If we’re tae work t’gether, best we get a move on.”

Apple Bloom said nothing, keeping her head down as she followed Kiln.

Spike stood at the mouth of his chosen path. He tensed his muscles, dropped to all fours, and sped along his way.

It was a quick walk to the entrance to a massive antechamber. The floor was a series of spinning rings, each alternating their rotation. At the center, he could see Sweetie Belle singing, several Painted Ones guarding her. Caballeron was off to the side, looking on in apprehension. Then, near the wall, there was Ahuizotl.

Garbed in golden armor studded with gemstones. Armed with two curved sabers on his back, each capped by a red magical pommel stone. Bristling with confidence and rolling with muscle. His yellow eyes scanned the room constantly, like he was waiting for something to happen. His long, thin tail slithered this way and that, its four fingers moving as though he was directing Sweetie Belle’s song.

“Stand together here until
Life is drawn up from the well
Magic rumble, thunder course
Hearts are blazing at the source”

Spike stood tall, his fists clenched, as he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Ahuizotl!”

Ahuizotl’s head snapped his way. His triumphant grin faltered, replaced with annoyance. Sweetie’s song halted mid-word—her terrified expression suggesting to Spike that she expected more than just him to show up.

“Keep singing,” Ahuizotl said. “I shall deal with this interloper.”

He stalked towards Spike, stepping over the interlocking rings as though he were walking across solid ground. He lowered his head to Spike’s level, his breath revolting—smelling of fish and death. “Who are you to her, that you would come so far to die?”

“I’m a friend.” Spike crossed his arms over his chest. He narrowed his eyes at Ahuizotl. “That’s good enough for me.”

Ahuizotl barked with laughter. He brought a paw to his chest to stifle the spasms. “I—ha ha!—I suppose that is the pony thing to say. Spike. The famous Spike the Dragon, who chose to remain with the ponies rather than join his own kind.”

Please, Spike thought. That’s a pretty narrow viewpoint. He had dragon friends, like Ember and Shardscale. Just like he had friends in lots of different cultures. “If you let Sweetie go, then Celestia will probably just capture you instead of utterly demolishing you.”

Ahuizotl’s laughter quieted, but his smile did not diminish. “If she were capable of such a feat, would she have not done so sooner? No. No, she has failed. She, and Daring Do, and all others who would challenge me.”

Spike sent a glance at the others in the room. Caballeron looked on with a dour, defeated grimace. The Painted Ones remained where they were, watching the spectacle. “And if you were capable of controlling the sun, you would’ve already done it.”

The claws appeared out of Ahuizotl’s paws. He raised his right foreleg. “A shame you’ll not live to see the festivities!”

He brought the almighty paw down, and Spike caught it. They stood locked in a test of strength, Ahuizotl pressing with considerable might, Spike gripping the claws in his own, snorting smoke.

Spike put one foot back. He twisted his weight to swing Ahuizotl’s claw around. He knocked the appendage aside, took in a deep breath, and bellowed fire for all he was worth. Green flame showered Ahuizotl, coating every inch of his lithe, muscular form.

The gemstones on Ahuizotl’s breastplate shimmered. The flames swirled and collected, being drawn to each of the stones. The armor glowed with magical power. The blades on his back shone to match.

Ahuizotl reached over his shoulders to draw his sabers. He grinned at Spike, unmarred in any way by the young dragon’s attack. He threw a wide swing at Spike.

Spike jumped away, but the tip of the blade nicked his arm. Pain shot through his skin. He looked down. A small gash had been torn in the scales. The boiling blood of a dragon collected and dripped to the floor, sparkling with a magical green.

Spike’s stomach twisted. His heart plummeted. He’d never bled before. Not in his entire life. His hide was supposed to be too thick to pierce!

The booming laughter of Ahuizotl chilled his bones. He walked slowly away from the hulking beast as the swords twirled.

The blades hissed as they boiled moisture from the air. Ahuizotl grinned at Spike. “I’m going to enjoy this. It has been some time since I slew a dragon!”

The Knights of Harmony

Button Mash’s saddlebags stirred, while the young stallion lay unconscious. The darkness lay unbroken around him, but from within the bags came a steady, sinister glow. Green spilled forth, touching the air with licks of heatless fire. A clatter came from within the bags.

The puppet of River—ancient hero of pony legend—stepped forth, an unnatural green tinging the magical material between its wooden joints. It walked slowly, carefully, making its way across the ground. Its head turned as it took in its surroundings, tasting the air, getting a sense of the emotion. Familiarity touched its core. It had been here before, many thousands of years ago.

At least, the power driving it had been there.

Changeling magic pulled River closer to the familiar feeling. A large construct, several stories high, made from the bronze-colored material changelings called Golemium. A living metal that could be commanded by the changelings that forged it.

Queen Cicada, cloistered within the puppet, peered upwards at the construct. A Strutter, as the ancient changelings had called it. A machine that walks. A vehicle to carry changelings to and fro, to haul their goods, to fight their battles, all powered by pony hearts.

Today, it was Queen Cicada’s key to… influencing the changelings once more. To bring glory back into their consciousness. To bring victory back into their lives.

All she needed was the assistance of Ahuizotl.

Cicada touched the puppet’s hoof to the Golemium, and a spark of changeling magic tore its way through the River puppet. The wood was blasted to charred pieces and scattered across the floor. Cicada’s magic, her essence, her very soul, etched itself into the core of the Strutter.

Inside, she found enough power to activate the Strutter. Dozens of hearts, all arranged so that the strong voice of Sweetie Belle could make its way down into the pit to unite them. Power surged at Queen Cicada’s metaphysical horn tip.

All she needed to do was wait for Ahuizotl to issue the command to rise.

***

Spike gripped the bleeding limb and shuffled back, lowering his stance to maintain his balance. It didn’t hurt much, but that was the problem. He could feel shock setting in on the edge of his senses. Shock from the wound, shock from the revelation that he could be hurt. Shock that this monster, this thing, had killed dragons before and intended to continue doing so. That he made light of killing dragons.

Ahuizotl chortled merrily. “You dragons, you always have the trade-mark ‘Of Fairie’ written about you. So long-lived and invincible that the sight of your own mortality sends you into vapors.”

Spike’s claw skipped a step, and he fell to one knee. Ahuizotl’s hulking form swam in his vision, the colors swirling together, as the edges of his vision faded to white. Ahuizotl lunged, and there was nothing he could do.

The sword’s tip buried into Spike’s shoulder. A kick from Ahuizotl’s hind leg knocked the wind out from him, like a shot from a volleygun. He curled up, covering his eyes and his belly. He sucked in a desperate breath as Ahuizotl raised the swords for a dual-bladed, downward killing stroke.

A bolt of mustardy-yellow shot through the air to impact the side of Ahuizotl’s head with four hooves. The crack against his skull echoed as loudly as his enraged scream. The mighty monster tumbled to the side. He failed to catch himself and landed with a clatter of armor and bruised pride.

Daring Do landed squarely on all fours. “Pick on someone your own size, hairball!”

Rage discolored Ahizotl’s face a violent purple. “Wench! You dare assail me in my moment of ascension?”

“I dare a lot, lint-wad!” Daring Do shuffled nimbly away from a hasty sword-swing. The heated blade scoured the stone beneath her hooves. “I dare to bring this whole stinkin’ operation down on your head!”

Ahuizotl picked himself up. He held the swords at the ready, his tail-hand grasping the air in anticipation. “Then I dare you to die.”

Daring rolled her eyes and sidestepped a thrust. “Is that the best you can come up with? Come on, Ahuizotl. We’ve done this—” She ducked a misaimed swing. “—this dance a dozen times. Bring up some new steps!”

Spike gripped the stone wall, attempting to sit up. He hissed out as loud as his woozy mind would allow. “Aunt Yearling! Look out!”

***

Daring Do swung her head around. Several of the Painted Ones had surrounded her, spears and hooves at the ready. Her jump had been ill-timed, but necessary to save Spike. As it was, she was in it deep. She counted six, three with spears. The weapons had too much reach for her to get around. The ponies themselves were hopped up on their weird enchanted paint. Behind her was the inexorable approach of the Exhausting Ahuizotl.

Luckily, she just needed to play her ace. “Now, Blank!”

The changeling dropped from the ceiling onto Ahuizotl’s back. His razor-fangs bit deep into the monster’s flesh. Ahuizotl’s screech reached a new, shrill pitch as the magic in his body, his weapons, and his armor was drawn into the attacking changeling. Blankety Blank held fast, his body glowing green beneath his plated chitin.

A fireball smacked dead-center into the back of a spear-welding foe, sending him nose-first into the floor. Care Carrot leaped from crag to crag from her perch, aiming additional spells as she went. Most of the shots went wild, but the damage was already done.

Daring leaped into the opening and slugged the foremost Painted One with a right-hook. Another hook and a left uppercut sent blood spurting from his broken nose. A headbutt knocked him out cold, and she turned her attention to the next unarmed goon in line. The other two spear-less freaks ganged up on her, and more’s the pity. Whether she blocked with her forelegs or danced nimbly around them, there was no way for them to land a solid hit on the seasoned boxer.

One spearmaster aimed his weapon at Care, and the blade glowed blue. Ice collected, ready to be unleashed on in a highly ironic attack. A rapier blade batted the spearhead aside just as the spell launched, sending it uselessly into the floor. Martial Paw jabbed and sliced, his keen blade flashing in the low light. The spearmaster had no choice but to back up, the haft held high in defense. The other joined him and menaced Martial with his spear, but the light of fear flickered in his eyes.

Ahuizotl rolled, finally casting Blankety Blank off. He gripped his limbs and let out a low whine. He gritted his fangs in impotent rage, grasping for a discarded sword with his tail-hand. He opened his eyes and swiveled his head, but the changeling was nowhere to be seen. “Changeling fool! If you would but join me, you would be a king!”

Care paused in her charge. Three Painted Ones with spears stood near Sweetie Belle, while the final unarmed goon gripped her tight. The song had stopped for now, the young mare looking on with hope. Care charged her horn, but did not cast a spell; a stray shot could hurt Sweetie. Instead she marched purposefully across the rotating ringed floor, careful to keep her balance on the ever-shifting obstacle.

Ahuizotl grimaced when he saw that his second curved sword had been carried away on a ring. He handed his remaining sword to one of his forelimbs and approached Daring Do’s boxing match. “I’ll slay yet one enemy today!”

Daring Do spread a wing and caught a Painted One’s neck with the joint. The pony collapsed, choking. She grabbed the ears of the other and smashed his face into the ground. She glanced over her shoulder and grinned at the approaching monster. “Only one, Ahuizotl? You are getting old!”

She ran as fast as her legs would take her, and Ahuizotl matched her speed as best he could with weakened legs. He swung the blade with all the finesse and accuracy of a bull being shot out of a cannon. Daring hopped onto the rings, dodging from layer to layer to keep her distance from the mad god.

***

Martial Paw lunged and missed, opening himself to a stab from the spearmaster on the right. It grazed his shoulder, but he flapped away from the worst of the attack. He sighed as he measured the odds in his head. The spears were too long for him to get inside their guard. With two opponents, there was little chance for progressing the fight.

Blankety Blank leaped from the shadows and grasped a spear in his fanged jaw. He ripped it out of the pony’s hooves and snapped its thick haft with a solid bite. The other Painted One jabbed—as much out of fear as with a calculated attack plan. The blade dug into Blankety’s chest… but only a centimeter deep.

Blankety’s mouth opened wide, revealing the glow of green magic pouring from his mouth. Fangs framed a yawing abyss, glistening multifaceted eyes peered greedily, flames licked at the tips of his wings as the power drained from Ahuizotl made itself known. A howl like that from the deepest, darkest nightmare poured forth from the changeling, freezing all who heard it.

Martial took one look at the situation, decided he should become uninvolved, and backed away from the ensuing one-sided melee.

His ear twitched at the sound of rocks scattering. He turned to see Caballeron exiting the room, a scowl on his face, his ears plastered against the top of his head. Martial closed the distance in one wing-assisted leap and blocked the way out. He leveled his rapier at Caballeron. “Going somewhere?”

Caballeron flicked the spur out from his leg-brace. “Get out of the way. I’ve no time for this.”

“You’re facing justice this time, Doctor.” Martial narrowed his eyes. “Whether it be by gavel or blade.”

Martial sent a smooth jab towards Caballeron’s heart, and the doctor batted it away with his much-shorter blade. Caballeron hissed as he readied another deflection. “There’s more at stake here, you fool! I’m trying to—”

Martial feinted to the left and right, finally landing a cut on Caballeron’s cheek.

“I’m trying to help you!” Caballeron screeched. He juked away from a fatal thrust, his eyes widening. “If you don’t go help Sweetie Belle, more than she will die!”

Martial Paw caught sight of Care and Daring in his peripheral vision. They’d converged on Sweetie Belle and were fighting her captors. Ahuizotl was preoccupied fending off Blankety, who had finished off his combatants with what could only be described as “excessive force.”

Martial Paw clicked his beak as he twirled his rapier. “Do you remember what happened the last time I trusted you?”

Caballeron frowned, lowering his eyebrows. “When did—?”

Martial Paw’s blade stabbed deep into Caballeron’s chest, nearly up to the hilt. He turned his head to stare the doctor in the eye. “It never happened, because I’m not that stupid.”

Martial’s fist clocked Caballeron in the side of the head. The doctor slumped against the edge of the tunnel, the strength gone from his limbs. He stared numbly, mutely up at Martial Paw as the griffon drew the rapier from his chest.

“Let that sink in,” Martial said. He flapped away to rejoin Daring, leaving Caballeron to bleed out at the edge of the antechamber.

***

Sweetie Belle found herself gripped in the tail-hand of Ahuizotl. The beast pressed her head closer to the fifty assembled hearts and growled. “Sing! I command you!”

Care turned to menace Ahuizotl with her horn. A painted one hefted his spear at her, but was soon downed with a pounce from Blankety. Daring focused on the other Painted Ones, one of which had lost his spear to a fiery blast.

Martial Paw lanced the last spear-bearer with a killing slice through the throat. Between him, Care, Daring, and Blankety, the other Painted Ones were dispatched in short order. They stood united against Ahuizotl, spells, weapons, and sharp hooves at the ready.

Ahuizotl twisted around. He dug his tail’s fingers into Sweetie’s mane and held the burning blade over her throat. “Stay back, or she never sings again!”

“You’re done, Ahuizotl!” Daring Do snarled. “We’ve busted up your guards and the whole Equestrian military is about to bust down your front door! You’re out of space to run! Put down the stupid sword and let her go, or we’re gonna shove it where the sun don’t shine!”

Ahuizotl glared at them for a long moment. Too long, in Sweetie’s opinion. The blade’s heat could be felt through the air, singing her white coat. A smile as wide as a highway curled across Ahuizotl’s toothy maw. A chuckle, then a guffaw rang all the warning bells in Sweetie’s head. Whatever song was in her heart was overpowered with fear, panic, and the certainty that death was close enough to touch.

He let Sweetie go and sheathed the sword across his back. He spread his paws wide, even holding his tail-hand up for all to see. “You foals. You utter children. Think. Do you really believe this is all I had at my disposal? Do you really consider me unprepared for your interference?”

The lot of them stood on a single ring, two out from the center, spinning slowly as the moments ticked on. Ahuizotl shook his head and sighed. “I’ll admit, the changeling surprised me. But I was not unable to fend him off. You have been so focused on me and Sweetie Belle, that you have not considered the rumble down the halls. The rattle of machinery and mechanisms. The beat of hearts, echoing throughout the entire complex.”

Sweetie Belle looked behind the warriors as the entrance to the antechamber loomed into view. Spike still lay slumped against the wall, clutching his shoulder in a half-awake stupor. The collapsed form of Caballeron twitched on the far side of the opening. The darkened hall between them… it lit up.

Steady, almost rhythmic tapping echoed across the stone. The clang of metal on stone. The chitter of mechanical parts meshing together. The whirr of motors processing power.

The mechanical monstrosity—the one that had once been High Priest Dissero—marched at the helm of an army of similar ant-like automatons. The first row lowered their heads and opened their back, revealing energy-spewing cannons. They took aim at the small party of adventurers.

Sweetie Belle covered her head with her hooves. “Look out!”

Daring spun just in time to dodge out of the way of a flash of pure magic. It ricocheted off of the bronze-colored ring and shot into the ceiling. Martial, Care, and Blankety scattered. Ahuizotl stood tall behind Sweetie, his arms raised to the heavens, as blasts impacted toothlessly against his invincible armor. His laughter filled her ears with its venomous sting. His voice radiated wicked pleasure across the entire antechamber. Sweetie could only watch in horror as the automatons continued their unstoppable march of destruction.

She stared at the hearts powering whatever mad device Ahuizotl had uncovered. They beat in rhythm, but weakly. They didn’t have the punch to drive the mechanism onward. They didn’t have the unity, the rhyme, to accomplish anything.

“Do what you were made to do,” Ahuizotl said in her ear, just audible over the cacophony of the battle. “Sing. For. Me!”

Sweetie Belle shut her eyes tight. She laid her ears against her skull. She was made to song for him? Rubbish! Trash! She was made for more than that. She was born for greater things that to be his broken music box!

Ahuizotl slammed his fist against the rings, rattling the room. Daring Do attempted to race at him, but a volley of magic kept her at bay. He opened his mouth wide as a victorious song burst forth.

“I’ll rise and set each morning and night
Awash with your thunderous applause!
With a sword in my left hand, the sun in my right

“That!
Is the price—!”

Sweetie kicked his shin with all her might. Her hooves reflected off the armor in a useless gesture, but it got his attention nonetheless. Her clear, powerful voice grasped the hearts of all who heard, and would not let go.

“Shut up!
Monster!
I will not be your slave!

“Back away!
You cur!
Or face a shallow grave!”

The hearts heard the song, and responded at once.

A single, solid heartbeat shook the cavern. The rings leaped from the ground in spiraling tiers. Ahuizotl was cast aside like an unwanted apple core. The warriors scrambled for purchase, but found themselves unable to resist the same fate as the mad god. Sweetie gripped the hearts as their reliquary was hoisted into the air on a current of magic and gearwork.

The rings tilted, clicked, and split into a mechanical, clockwork jigsaw puzzle of thousands and thousands of pieces. They spiraled and spun, connecting and snaking and meshing and snapping. Their destination was as unknowable as their purpose, and as uncontrolled as the magic pulsating from the hearts.

Sweetie Belle held on for dear life and screamed.

***

Chrysalis II stood in the midst of the castle, completely overwhelmed by the activity surrounding her. Soldiers marched to airships. Armor rattled as latches were connected and weapons were readied. Chrysalis kept her hooves together and her wings pressed firm against her sides. All she wanted at this point was to be unobtrusive and invisible.

High Princess Luna’s hooves clomped as she pursued High Princess Celestia. “Are you daffy?” Luna shouted. “Andean is right inside, and his airships are armed to the teeth. The griffons have defended Equestria before—”

“Luna!” Celestia swung on her younger sister, her wings outstretched. She leaned closer to whisper, but overhearing was far too simple a task for a changeling. “Now is not the time for this conversation. We don’t need Andean for this. The Equestrian army is sufficient.”

“Why be sufficient,” Luna hissed, “when you can crush utterly, finally, and decisively? Ahuizotl has caused too much pain to be allowed to escape yet again, Celestia.”

Celestia raised a hoof to point deeper into the castle. The scent of bitter herbs tickled Chrysalis’ nose. “If you expect me to march in there on my knees and beg the griffon king to help me—”

“It will not take begging, Celestia!” Luna pushed a hoof against Celestia’s chest. She hesitated above the scar before lowering her foreleg back to the ground. “He is a friend, a dear friend, who has fought and suffered at Equestria’s side. At my side, sister, when nobody else could.”

Celestia turned her eyes away. She pressed her lips together and let a small sigh escape her nose. “We don’t need him.” She about-faced and trotted for the airship harbor, leaving Luna gaping at the sight. Luna walked the other direction, fuming, her emotions somewhere between cayenne and death pepper for sheer heat.

Her warpath aimed her straight in line to Andean’s guest room.

Chrysalis swallowed the uncomfortable lump in her throat and pattered after her. With a subtle shift of her cloven hooves and her frogs, the sound of hoofsteps vanished. Outwardly, she projected a mask of confidence and purpose, but inwardly, she was a jumble of thoughts and confusion.

Ponies had built their kingdom on the ruins of the changeling empire. That was obvious. Was it intentional? Perhaps. Perhaps the location was merely prime real estate. At least, before the Everfree Forest had made the land all but unlivable.

But in the end, it revealed that Queen Cicada was right.

What else was she right about?

Changelings were creatures hiding in the dark, hoping nobody squished them. But could they be more? With the Spade of Hearts found once more by Ahuizotl, perhaps—No! No, she would never use the dagger. Not in the way the changelings of old did. Not the way her mother would have.

But… was that why the changelings were dying out? Was that how Celestia would control them? Threat of a boot hovering overhead? Wasn’t that how she controlled everybody?

She could stand to be a mere vassal. But her changelings deserved better, didn’t they?

She needed another conversation with Andean—the world leader least controlled by Celestia, while still allied to her. She could ask him how he made it work.

She hid around the corner as Luna knocked on Andean’s door. The conversation was quiet, but Chrysalis II heard it well enough. Luna relayed Celestia’s decision, but maintained that he should have his troops at the ready. Andean spoke of defying her wishes, and Luna seemed to have no answer to that. She muttered again about being ready and shuffled off.

Chrysalis crept up to the door and tapped the wood. The middling piff of force didn’t carry to her ears, let alone the person inside the room. She sighed and rested her forehead against the door. Her heart just wasn’t in it.

Her ear twitched. She heard voices from within the room. Three distinct ones. The loudest, closest voice was Andean’s. The other two were distorted, as if spoken through glass or over a long distance. Maybe both. A small voice, warbling and high-pitched, with an accent that was hard to understand. A large voice, booming and confident, with a much subtler twang.

She pressed her ear against the door. She could only pick up on the occasional full word. “Ahuizotl.” “Celestia.” “Flerdefurten.”

She lowered her eyebrows. “Flerdefurten?” The heck?

The hallway was empty around her. A window sat a few meters down, open to the air. She skittered up to the opening and slid through, flapping her wings to carry her around. There, on the wall, a balcony led into Andean’s room. Curtains were drawn across the glass doors, and still no one was there to spot her.

She pressed her ear against the glass, and the three voices came clear.

“This is way too beefy, Andean,” the large voice said. “Why don’t you just show up unannounced? Launch the airships and blow him to smithereens?”

Andean’s domineering countenance was palpable even without a line of sight. “And risk my forces rushing into a situation with no reconnoitering? With no idea what we are up against? Risk the wrath of Princess Celestia at such a delicate time? She is diminished, Mangle, not powerless.”

“Vhat you are suggesting,” the small voice piped up, “is far worse! An alliance with sooch a creature is staggeringly stoopid!”

Andean clicked his beak together. “He has evaded capture and death for several centuries. The entire world has failed to reign him in—only Daring Do has come close. This time, he reached out to us.”

Chrysalis pressed a hoof against her mouth. Her blood ran cold.

“If Celestia continues to be obstinate,” Andean said, “our only recourse is to accept Ahuizotl’s request.”

Chrysalis leaped off the balcony, her eyes wide and her ears laid back against her skull. Andean allied with Ahuizotl? The very thought of it was a horror. Ahuizotl was a villain. Evil! Mad with power! As horrible and controlling as her mother…

She had to tell Celestia. Or Luna. Or somebody! Now!

She had to tell them before it was too late.

***

“Hay.”

Button Mash nuzzled the gray-colored coat of hair he was resting upon. Wakefulness was slow-coming, and he didn’t quite register the voice speaking to him. In the back of his mind, he reasoned that it was a dreamed sensation.

“Hay, dude. Wake up.”

Button pulled a feathery something-or-other over his ears to blot out the invading voice. It didn’t help.

“Button! Up!”

He blinked owlishly as he eased himself upright, rubbing his mussed mane with a hoof. In his other hoof, something pulsed a brilliant purple.

“That’s better.”

“Yeah, but wha—” Button’s ears shot upright. He wasn’t hearing the voice. He was thinking it. Or maybe feeling it. He looked down at the heart in his hooves, belonging to one Scootaloo of Ponyville. “Scootaloo?”

“Yah-huh.”

Button’s mouth fell open. The tingle of pegasus magic played along his hooves, flittering up his fairy strings to his heart. The heart beat merrily, like a Hearths Warming Eve lantern. “Y-you can talk?”

“No duh, Clopcrates.” The heart’s pulse slowed a touch. “But… I can’t hear or see. Not you, at least. I just feel your magic, if that makes sense.”

Button shifted his hindquarters to get more comfortable atop the soft mass he’d landed on. “But you’re okay! Apple Bloom and Spike just need to find your body, and then we’ll be able to put two-and-two together! Or one-and-one! I can’t math right now!”

“Cool it, dude.” Scootaloo’s heart flashed a brighter light than before. “We’ve gotta get out of this pit, first. And I don’t think any of us are clear to fly.”

“Any of—” Button glanced around the dimly lit pit, only finding rock, darkness, and the light sheen of metal. “Where’s Rumble?”

The mass beneath him shifted and muttered something unintelligible.

Button hopped off Rumble’s body and clutched Scootaloo’s heart close to the chest. “Sorry. I didn’t hear what you said.”

“I said get your dock out of my nose.” Rumble rubbed his muzzle and checked the connection in his helmet. “My armor’s busted. Not really useful for anyth—Yeek!”

Rumble’s hoof found the spearhead piercing his wing. The weapon was embedded into the side of his armor, unable to be removed without further damaging the wing itself. He stared at it for a solid minute before sighing and letting his leg drop. “Armor’s busted, but I can’t take it off. I guess it’s still better armor than being buck-nude.” One of his ears tilted down as his head tilted the other direction. “Who were you talking to?”

Button held the heart up. “Didn’t you hear us?”

“You butt’s a better ear plug than headphone, bro.”

“It’s Scootaloo!” Button held the heart up to Rumble, gesturing for him to touch it. “Look, look, she can talk to us with magic.”

“Scootaloo?” Rumble smiled ear-to-ear, his eyes lighting up like Button hadn’t seen for a long time. He gently took the heart from Button, who was happy to let him hold it. “Scootaloo, can you hear me?”

Rumble stared at the heart. For too long. Much too long. As the seconds ticked onward, his ears gradually fell more and more. “Hay, bro… She isn’t saying anything.”

“What?” Button took the heart and held it next to his head. The instant he touched it, the feel of Scootaloo’s voice rattled his mind’s ear.

“—mean I’m not saying anything!” Scootaloo’s heart spritzed and sparked. “Clean out your ears, Rumble! Hellooooooo!”

“Whoa, slow down, Scootaloo!” Button Mash held the heart away from his head, not that it did much good, once he thought about it. “Easy. He said he can’t hear you.”

Rumble lowered his eyebrows. “Is this a prank? Cuz this ain’t really the time.”

“You think I would prank you about something like this?” Button Mash held the heart in one hoof and held it between them. “You touch it, I’ll touch it, and we’ll both try to listen. With our hearts. Sounds good?”

“Sure.” Rumble reached out and shut his eyes, his hoof resting lightly on Scootaloo’s heart. “Can you hear me, Scootaloo?”

“For the dozenth time, yeah!” Scootaloo sighed, somewhere between a giggle and an exasperated grunt. “I’m right here. I’m alright!”

Button opened his eyes and grinned at Rumble. The gray guard’s expression never changed. He only shook his head and lowered his hoof. “I’m getting nothing.”

“I’m sorry,” Button said. “I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Oh for—” Scootaloo zapped Button’s hoof with what felt like a miniscule lightning bolt. “Button! Tell the musclebound muttonhead I love him, too!”

Button stared cross-eyed at Scootaloo. “I… don’t think it’ll mean the same coming from me.”

“Say it, doofus!”

“Aaahhh…” Button grinned at Rumble, who perked his ears up. “Scootaloo says ‘Tell the musclebound muttonhead that I love him, too.’”

Rumble’s eyes widened. His mouth popped open. He raised his head to get a closer look at the heart. “Really? She really said that?”

Button’s grin turned sideways. “You think I’d say any of those words without a direct order?”

A silly smile curled its way across Rumble’s face. “Heh. Hee hee… She said—”

A mechanical clatter caused a jolt to run down their spines. Button turned his body to hide Scootaloo’s glow from view, while Rumble stepped in front of him. For the first time, Button was able to get a good look at Rumble’s wound.

It didn’t look good. Days of recovery at the least, and probably a good amount of therapy after that. He really shouldn’t have been walking around. “Dude—”

“Shh!” Rumble covered Button’s mouth with a hoof. He eased himself forward, stepping around a pile of burnt pieces of wood. A wall of metal stood between them and whoever was moving around. He slid along the side, en route to getting a peak at the new arrivals. “Stay here.”

“My armor still works!” Button hissed. “I should get—”

“Stay.”

Rumble leaned around the edge of the metal, watched for a long moment, and then came back. “Two of the Painted Ones. They’re fiddling with some sort of machine. I… don’t think we can take them.”

“I’m not much help.” Button looked down at Scootaloo. “And she’s—”

A pop shocked the air like a thunderbolt. A trilling sound came from the far side of the metal, like large insect wings. The sound grew quieter, until it finally faded into the distance.

Rumble snuck another peek and motioned Button forward. “They’re gone. The machine musta been a vehicle.”

Button joined his friend in the open. The room was still dark, but he could see clar enough in the light provided by a few flood lamps scattered throughout the pit. Mechanical constructs, most in the shape of insects, scattered the floor. Some had the squat, sturdy appearance of beetles, while a couple had the long spear-shaped body of a dragonfly.

“I think they flew one out,” Rumble mumbled. “Maybe we can, too.”

“Get closer!” Scootaloo said. “I wanna get a feel for this thing.”

Rumble trotted softly, his head on a swivel. Button followed close behind. It was a short walk to the closest dragonfly thing. The whole thing seemed to be made of the same bronze-colored metal as the rest of the cavern’s machinery. A changeling device, then? Four wings jutted out from the sides of the thickest part of the machine, all transparent, all lined with magical etchings.

The body itself was wide enough for a pony to sit in, and tapered the further back it went. Two bulbous protrusions acted as windbreakers, and six legs acted as a balancing stand. Two seats sat back-to-back, one facing forward. A red crystal stood center on the front of the craft, and another like it sat aft.

Rumble got into the pilot seat and pushed at the controls. Nothing happened. “How do you give this thing power?”

“I was worried about this,” Scootaloo said. “These things all need hearts.”

Button twisted his mouth to the side. “What? Like, pony hearts?”

“It’s kinda Ahuizotl’s whole operation, yeah.”

Rumble snorted. “We are not using Scootaloo’s heart!”

“I didn’t say we were.” Button Mash peered over the side of the craft and got a look at the innards. Two directional pads—well-suited for hooves—were mounted to either side of a heart-shaped receptacle. The seat was arranged so that a pony, or changeling, would be able to rest on their stomach, easily able to look forward. A foot pedal lay near the rear hoof, and the wire led towards the gemstone on the front. “Is that thing some kinda weapon?”

“I don’t really wanna find out.” Rumble climbed out of the vehicle with a grunt. “Come on. Maybe there’s another way ouuuu—” His ears snapped up as he half-turned his head. “Ooooh horseapples.”

The trilling wingbeats returned. In the distance, Button could see the glint of magic that drove the Painted Ones’ flying machine. “We gotta go!”

Rumble started to run, but the jostle of his armor against his wing slowed him to a halt. He looked up with a wince, gritting his teeth at the oncoming flyer. “We’re not gonna make it.”

Button glanced back at the controls. They looked familiar enough—almost like a precursor to video game controls. Or… or his puppet control crosses. He kicked himself as the buzz grew louder. If only they had another way to power it!

“Put me in.”

Button gave the heart a double-take. “You can’t be serious.”

“You think there’s another way out of this?” Scootaloo shone brighter than ever before. “Put me in, coach! I’m gonna show them what the most powerful pegasus mage in existence is capable of!”

Button Mash took a deep breath in. He looked over his shoulder at Rumble. Their eyes met. “She wants to do it.”

Rumble’s eyes bugged out of his head as a vein bulged out of his neck. “Don’t you dare—!”

A bolt of magic struck the ground beside his hooves. He leapt away, crying out as the spearhead dug at his wing. The Painted Ones flew by overhead.

Another bolt shot out the back of the machine and reflected off the metallic hide of their chosen vehicle. Button jumped into the seat and buckled himself in. “Get in, now!”

With only a second’s hesitation, Rumble jumped into the copilot’s seat. He situated his hooves in range of the weapon pedals. “They’re coming around for another pass!”

“We won’t be here!” Button held Scootaloo gently, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “Let’s hope this is our day for bad ideas working out.”

He jammed the heart into the receptacle.

The vehicle sprang to life. The wings beat automatically, lifting them ever-so-slightly above the ground. They glowed with purple magic, which lanced throughout the etchings and billowed magic towards the stone floor. Button Mash rested his hooves on the control pads. “You ready?”

“Not really!” Rumble screamed.

“Go, dummy!” Scootaloo shouted.

Button Mash pressed forward on the pads. They shot off like an arrow from a bow.

The Final Chapter

Apple Bloom would have ran headfirst into the room had Kiln not stopped her with a hoof. He raised an eyebrow, put a hoof to his lips, and poked his head into the chamber of hearts. After a moment, he rushed in—a crunching sound followed soon after. “Ye can come in.”

Apple Bloom did so, and was soon halted by the horror before her. Her stomach swam as she gazed upon a Painted One lying motionless on the floor, his eyes lifeless and gray. “You killed him!”

“Aye, an’ the others’ll do much worse if’n we don’t get a move on.”

“Y-you—” Apple Bloom’s ears lay flat as she curled back, her tail between her legs. “You killed him.”

“Open yer eyes, lass!” Kiln pressed his hoof against her chin, raising her head. He waved at the room around them, dark save for the faint glimmer of a propped-up headlamp. “He’s already long gone, but they’re the ones that need yer help!”

Apple Bloom sucked in a breath, but couldn’t seem to fill her lungs. Dozens of ponies milled around the room. Their thousand-yard stares turned to her briefly; the attention couldn’t hold. It only took her a moment’s work to find the orange coat of her dear friend. “Scootaloo! Scoots! You’re okay!”

Scootaloo walked over to her, her expression as empty as an abandoned silo. The young mare’s purple wings lay against her sides, dirty and mussed from lack of care or use. Apple Bloom nuzzled her. “Come on. We gotta get y’all home.”

Kiln stomped a hoof. Every living head in the room turned to him. “Ye heard the lass! Group yerselves in fives an’ be ready to run. As soon as the doctor gives us the word, we run!”

Apple Bloom hugged Scootaloo and received no hug in return. She turned her back to the dead body of the Painted One, and pushed Kiln as far out of sight as possible. “We’ll get you your hearts back. Promise.”

***

Button Mash really, really wished he was wearing goggles.

The armor kept the dust particles out of his eyes, but it wasn’t helping too much with the wind. It felt like the worst levels of a video game—the ones where your success and failure was determined by sheer dumb luck. He jerked out of the way of a pillar of stone. He slid along the edge of the rock wall. He sped down a corridor and tried to block out Rumble’s panicked screams.

A lance of energy zinged past his head. “Rumble!”

“AAAAAAA—what?—AAAAAAAA!!!”

“Shoot back!”

The Painted Ones were hot on their trail the entire way. Button winced as they narrowly avoided a stalactite. How deep did these caverns go? He knew it was once an underground city, but things were getting ridiculous. His internal sense of direction told him they were going in circles, but vertically they were all over the place. Up and down and left and corkscrew!

He heard Rumble vomit behind him. At least they were back-to-back.

“Well,” Scootaloo said, “if he can’t hit them with a laser, maybe puke’ll do the trick.”

Button took a sharp right turn. The sound of magic blitzing through air came from behind. “Dang it!” Rumble said. “I can’t hit them if you’re moving around all the time!”

“Would you like me to hold steady?” Button Mash pushed both control pads forward, hitting what he was mentally referring to as Sudden Death Speed. “Maybe pull up so that they get a nice, big profile to shoot at?”

“Whatever works, bro!” Rumble’s hoof pumped the pedal. Magic clashed harmlessly against the stone walls. “Just don’t come crying to me when they roast us!”

The machine’s maneuverability was off the charts. Every little twitch and movement of his hooves was responded to with immediate speed. At times, it was almost like the machine knew what to do before he did. His heart rumbled with magic, and his fairy strings tingled with the power. The machine tingled right back at him. “Scootaloo?”

“Yeah, I feel it, too.” Scootaloo’s heart pulsed as they took a hairpin turn. “It’s like we’re both flying the ship.”

“Okay.” Button buzzed between stalactites in a zigzag pattern. “Any ideas?”

“Yeah. One.” Scootaloo laughed in the metaphysical back of her throat. “I saw this in a movie once…”

Button’s mind’s eye saw the scene as clear as day. “I getcha. Rumble? Hold on!”

They beelined down a straight hallway. The Painted Ones closed in, their magical bolts getting closer by the second.

Rumble swallowed. “Hope you know what you’re do—”

Button pulled back on the pads and brought them to a lurching, gut-wrenching halt. The Painted Ones continued on at full speed. Without a second’s thought, Button leaned hard on the controls and propelled their dragonfly-machine towards the enemy. He pumped the pedal once, twice, thrice, but each shot missed by a mile.

Rumble’s cry of “Argh, horseapples!” echoed through the tunnels. The Painted Ones slowed down, their ship turning on its side to bring its weapons around. Button’s ship circled around theirs, always moving, always seeking a target yet staying out of the enemy’s sights.

Button knew he had to time it perfectly. If he broke out of the lock too soon, they’d have a clear shot down on their heads. One shot from the laser would turn them to cinders. “Rumble! Get ready!”

He pulled the control pads the opposite direction. The vehicle flipped, its wings releasing spiraling purple contrails.

Rumble pumped the pedal several times, and was rewarded with a direct hit. The Painted Ones vanished in gray smoke clouds, and the dragonfly-machine spiraled into the side of the wall.

Button’s legs trembled as he set them down. He leaned against the wind screen, his heart thudding against his breastplate. “We’re alive.”

Rumble unclipped himself from the seat and rushed over to the other dragonfly-thing. He scooped the heart out of the power source and carried it back. “Here. We’ve gotta try and save as many hearts as we can.”

Button reached out to scoop the heart up. “Y-yeah. Lemme just put i—”

“Long live Ahuizotl!” the heart decreed. “All hail the God of the Sun!”

Button frowned. He tilted the heart back and forth. “Are you for real?”

“Ahuizotl and the Painted Ones are eternal!”

“Throw it back, Button,” Scootaloo said. “This one’s three sizes too small.”

Button frowned at the heart. “I don’t get it. Ahuizotl’s using Painted One hearts for his war machines?”

“Only Painted Ones can be trusted to work to Ahuizotl’s benefit,” the painted one said. “You slave ponies shall be used to power the Hesperus Mactans and the Sun Device!”

“Hespa—?” Button Mash decided to file the thought away for later. “How many Painted Ones gave up their hearts?”

“Enough… to threaten… Equestria.”

The heart dimmed a bit. Button glanced at Scootaloo. “How you holding up?”

“Never better.”

“Don’t lie to me about that.” Button Mash held the villainous heart aloft. “This guy doesn’t look long for this world.”

“You and your friends,” the Painted One said, “will not survive.”

Rumble pressed his lips together. “You ever listened to half a conversation before? It gets on your nerves.”

“Sorry, Rumble.” Button glanced around, his ears twitching. He heard nothing in the surrounding—wait! There! A voice from down the leftmost hall. “Hear that?”

Rumble flapped an ear, his eyebrows raising. “Sounds like singing.”

“Where there’s smoke, there’s a fire.” Button grinned. “As Big Mac would say.”

Rumble ran a hoof along the side of the dragonfly. “You think this thing’ll be enough to take out Ahuizotl?”

“It’ll give him a run for his money.” Button waited for Rumble to strap in before lifting the dragonfly off the ground. “So, we wanna give this thing a name?”

Rumble tapped his chin. “How about something ridiculously hopeful and gloriously out of its league?”

“Like?”

“The Smooth Sailing.”

Scootaloo snorted.

“Don’t laugh.” Rumble sifted in his seat. He arranged his body so that his bad wing didn’t bump the side as easily. “I’m trying to keep a stiff upper lip.”

“Wait,” Scootaloo said. “Wait. Did you hear me?”

Button waited several seconds for Rumble to respond. “Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Hear Scootaloo.”

“Huh?” Rumble glanced back. “No. I woulda been doing backflips if I did.”

Button scratched the back of his head. “Did you hear somebody snort?”

“Yeah. Wasn’t that you?”

“No, dude.”

“Huh.” Rumble gripped the seat tight as they sped on down the rock tunnel. “Maybe I’m not hopeless.”

***

Daring Do pulled herself out of the dirt and dust. Her wings burned like twin furnaces, ripping into her joints like a manic, clawing beast. She shouldn’t have flown. She should have found another way to save Spike. But what else would she have done?

Past regrets weren’t important at the moment. The Painted Ones’ mechanical army marched into the room. Some had been blown back by the magical outburst—the one caused by Sweetie’s song—but still others thundered into the antechamber. Spike was crawling across the ground to get away. The poor guy’s arms and legs were shaking. His breathing was erratic. His tail twitched to and fro. He was in shock, whether it was from the trauma or blood loss, and his blood pressure was getting dangerously low.

The room itself had become a death trap. The various pieces of machinery that had erupted from the floor danced around on gearwork and mechanical mayhem. One of the fleshy Painted Ones had been caught between two puzzle pieces and been crushed—the machine didn’t even slow down. Sweetie Belle held on for dear life near the top, waiting uncertainly as the pieces came together at the center.

Martial and Blankety fended off automatons, while Care reached Spike and dragged him behind an outcropping. The machines were too close to safely fire their magic bolts, so they’d switched to using their sharpened legs. Blank’s carapace deflected blow after blow, and Martial’s swordsmanship was in top form.

That left Daring Do and Ahuizotl. She kept him in the corner of her eye. He had bashed his head when Sweetie’s song flung him from his perch. Still recovering. Good.

The hearts glimmered atop a tower of puzzle pieces that was slowly coming together. All they needed to do was grab those hearts and hightail it. Daring Do checked the straps on her saddlebags and nodded to herself. She had to climb the tower, grab the hearts, and save Sweetie, all the while not getting crushed or killed by Ahuizotl. Easy.

Daring took a leap and landed atop a circular puzzle piece as it passed by. It carried her up and around, closer to Ahuizotl than she liked. The beast stirred, opening one yellowed eye and grimacing her way. He rolled catlike to his feet, the heat of his breath causing fog to flit around the cool underground room. He coiled like a spring… and pounced!

Daring leaped off the puzzle piece an instant before Ahuizotl’s claws connected. He scoured deep marks in the bronze-colored material. She reached up and snagged the bottom of another piece with one hoof. A huff of effort brought her upward, gaining her a newfound, if tenuous, perch. She was still for but a moment before she was forced off, ducking underneath Ahuizotl’s airborne claw-swipe. His tail-hand snagged her tail and flung her into the ether. A roll of her body and a grasping of her forelegs saved her from splatting against the wall.

She clung to her bronze-colored platform, which was on a straight path to the center of the room. Other pieces ahead of hers connected together, building a tower of metal which all led up to the heart reliquary. Four horns took shape atop the sun device—filled with trails and tracings for what could only be magic. She jumped to the side of the tower and gripped the layered, nearly stepped, surface. Careful movements led her upward. Careful glances behind kept track of Ahuizotl.

The mad god leapt from puzzle piece to puzzle piece. His graceful movements seemed at odds with his enraged demeanor, but that was Ahuizotl in a nutshell. Daring rotated around the sun device, keeping its main body between her and the enemy. One strike, she knew, and she was deader than dead.

Her hoof slipped, but she was caught by a soft, white foreleg. She looked up and saw Sweetie Belle pulling with all her might, trying to bring Daring to the top. She lent the strength of her hind legs to the endeavor, and was soon standing beside Sweetie Belle. She pulled the young mare close and hissed in her ear, removing her saddlebags. “Put the hearts in here. I’ll distract him.”

Sweetie took the bags without a word, her mouth hanging open and her eyes pleading an unspoken question. Daring winked. “I got this. Trust me.”

There were fewer free-floating pieces, now that Daring was hopping between them. More and more they came together to form a single-shafted towering sun device, shaped like a four-horned lightning rod. The flap of wings caught her attention; Martial Paw hovered over her shoulder. “Marty—”

“Take my talon,” he said, his sword facing away from her. “I’ll lift you to the—”

“Make sure Sweetie gets to safety. The hearts, too.” Daring hopped down to a lower platform. Ahuizotl closed in, ever nearer. “I’m counting on you, Marty.”

Martial’s talon closed. He rose out of the mad god’s reach. “As you wish.”

Daring jumped to a mechanical arm carrying a shard across the room. She hung over it, her hind legs dangling. She kicked herself upwards and got a sure footing atop the mechanism. She sat there for a moment, catching her breath, rubbing her chest.

“You are old, Daring Do.”

“Horseapples.” She secured her pith helmet with a hoof, glaring at the oncoming ugliness of Ahuizotl. His eyes shone bright in the dark of the cavern. His growls rose above the constant clatter of the automatons. “You’re five times as old as me.”

“I am seventy times as old as you.” The monster prowled towards her, deftly stepping between puzzle pieces. “And yet all the younger. Your wings disintegrate. Your heart sags. Your mind rebels. Death comes for you, moment by moment, second by second. You can run, but not escape. You can lash out, but never win.”

“Yeah well… same old, same old.” Daring dodged away from the swipe of a claw as big as her entire body. “One thing’s different, though. This time, you ain’t getting away.”

Ahuizotl smiled, and a bitter chill slide down Daring’s spine—like an icicle through the heart. “Escape? No, Daring Do. This time, I triumph!”

***

“Wait!” Rumble shouted. The sound of his voice caused Button to bring the Smooth Sailing to a halt. “Look back there! It’s Apple Bloom!”

Button hit the reverse and flew in close to the archway. Sure enough, he could see Apple Bloom and Kiln standing in the door. Behind them, colors and colors of heartless ponies. “Good grief, look at them all.”

He touched down, and Rumble climbed out. He moved straight for Apple Bloom, keeping Kiln in sight at all times.

She rushed up and gave him a quick hug. “You’re alright!” She pulled away and stared him right in the eye, her eyebrows high and her face tight. “You still got Scootaloo’s heart, right?”

“Right here!” Button Mash hopped down from the Smooth Sailing and carried Scootaloo’s heart to her. “Safe and sound.”

“Ohmygosh!” Apple Bloom grasped the heart from him and cupped a hoof to her mouth. “Scootaloo! Come here!”

Scootaloo’s body and mind trotted out of the cavern, covered in dirt and stone dust. Rumble sucked in a breath, standing up straighter and squaring his hooves. Apple Bloom held the heart at leg’s length and chewed on her bottom lip. “How’s this supposed to work?”

“How d’yah think, lass?” Kiln tipped his hat back and scratched a sideburn. “Just let the magic happen.”

Apple Bloom and Button held a gaze. He shrugged, and she walked towards Scootaloo’s body. She touched the heart to Scootaloo’s chest and waited.

The heart sparked from within. Scootaloo’s eyes shimmered to match. The heart flashed, sparkled, and shone, then vanished in a flurry of white magic dots. Scootaloo’s fairy strings glowed from within, from the edges of her hooves, to the threads in her wings, to the very core of her heart. She took in a breath, her body shaking, her footing unsteady. Rumble rushed in to offer her balance.

She leaned against him. She lifted her hoof to grab his foreleg, and he met her midway. She looked up, he looked down, and their eyes met. She reached up to hug his neck, intelligence and happiness returning to her eyes.

She laughed and nuzzled his cheek. “I am, like, super-hungry right now, dude.”

Kiln’s mouth twitched upward. “Huh. So it can be done.”

Apple Bloom turned wide eyes on him. “You didn’t know?”

“Few things in life are certain, lass.” Kiln frowned at the tunnel leading to Ahuizotl’s sun device. “Least of which whether our friends will e’er return.”

Button stood alongside him. The corridor offered only darkness and the sounds of battle. “I’ll go.”

Rumble’s head popped up, and Scootaloo turned. “Like heck you are—”

“Dude, you help them get these people out of here.” Button touched a hoof to Rumble’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t even be walking. Maybe the Smooth Sailing will give Dr. Do an edge—”

“Y’ can’t go alone!” Apple Bloom waved a hoof at the dragonfly. “How’s that thing even work without a heart?”

Button pulled the Painted One’s heart out of his saddlebag. “I have an ace.”

“All shall bow at Ahuizotl’s feet!”

“Or maybe just a joker.”

Scootaloo spread a wing across Button’s mouth. “The whole point was that I was helping you fly—”

Button pulled her wing down gently. He smiled as best he could. “Sweetie’s still in there. I promised I’d help save her and all the hearts. I’ll see you guys later.”

He hauled himself into the cockpit and pressed the Painted One’s heart into the receptacle. The Smooth Sailing came to life in a heartbeat. He shot them a mock salute and hauled tail down the corridor.

It definitely wasn’t as responsive as before. It jerked and yawed, but Button was always able to get it back on track. The flash of light came from beyond the opening. A sea of mechanical bodies coated the floor. He flew into the room, and the world became chaos. Spike and Care were pinned down, with only Blankety Blank to fend off the Automatons. Martial hovered close to the top of a tower, where Sweetie Belle could be seen desperately stuffing hearts into saddlebags. Daring Do played a game of keep-away with Ahuizotl, the prize being her life.

With only an instant’s hesitation, Button took aim at Ahuizotl and fired.

The magic bolt hit Ahuizotl in the back. The energy arched and dispersed, eventually coming to the gemstones arrayed across his breastplate. The mad god snarled at Button and shouted an order.

The automatons in the room activated their cannons at once.

Several shots impacted the bottom of the Smooth Sailing, all reflecting off. The shot or two that hit the wings sent him wobbling through the air. He yanked hard on the control pads, correcting his flight path and jetting him past the tower. He saw Sweetie Belle for a brief second—she looked at him with wide eyes and shouted something he couldn’t hear. He looped around the tower, took aim at the assembled automatons, and opened fire.

His shots, too, reflected off their bronze-colored outer shell. He bit back a curse and pulled up.

Care Carrot launched a ball of flame at the frontmost automaton. The sheer heat of her assault caused the mechanoid’s thorax to bubble and melt, and the rest of the machine crumbled under its own weight. She ducked back around, rubbing a throbbing forehead. Blankety Blank shot down, coated in green fire, and ripped the legs off another attacker. The thing still clawed at him with grasping mandibles. He was soon forced to retreat as others moved in to fill their brothers’ place.

Button Mash looked up. Stalactites hung above the automatons and his friends. Created from years of mineral deposits and leaky caverns. Heavy, to say the least. Closer inspection saw bronze-colored metal beneath the stone; invulnerable to blasts of magic. A few well-placed shots would be the key. He backed up, aimed carefully, and opened fire.

A sharpened chunk of half-molten rock tumbled down to crush a half-dozen automatons. Another joined it, and another, and another. More and more Button cleared away the stone and caused the metal beneath to shine. More and more automatons came to an abrupt end.

Button frowned. There, at the edge of the ceiling, he saw… a hinge? Perhaps several of them. What would they do—

Of course! The sun device! The ceiling opened up for it! Maybe he could—

A sudden weight pulled the Smooth Sailing downward. Button glanced back, right into the gaping maw of Ahuizotl. The mad god grasped his craft with one massive paw, and the other reached for a wing. With a single mighty tug, Ahuizotl ripped the wings free.

The Smooth Sailing tumbled through the air. Button wrestled with the controls to no avail. Tailspin, corkscrew, backflip, there was no way to regain heading. The dragonfly-machine crashed sidelong into the rock wall, crumbling into a misshapen jumble of parts.

Button crawled from the wreckage, blood dripping from a gash in his foreleg. The riot armor’s magic finally gave out with a pop, having protected his body from the worst of the crash. His head swam as his eyes fogged over. If only he could just get to his hooves…

The weakened limbs refused to budge, and so Button lay still, hoping against hope that he could regain the slightest hint of strength.

***

Twilight Velvet paced across the deck of a Royal Guard Airship Epona, the largest in the fleet. To either side of the ship, other vessels could be seen moving across the sky. Magic-powered cannons and mechanical crossbows lined the sides of the warships. Soldiers cantered to and fro to their preassigned stations.

Centurion Stonewall, Captain of Celestia’s Royal Guard, landed lightly beside Velvet. “Are we getting any help from the other Knights?”

Twilight Velvet shook her head, going over the letters that had been delivered a scant few seconds before. “Special Agent Bon Bon is tied up investigating the Saddle Arabian fiasco. Starlight Glimmer ‘and companion’ are recovering from the explosion. Con Mane gave me some bunkum about a powdered donut treatment. Fizzlepop Berrytwist is just too far away to make it before the operation begins.”

Stonewall blew a light breath through her lips. “Stay safe, Bonnie.” She walked a few steps forward, bringing her near to the prow of the airship. “This is more horsepower than we’ve ever thrown at Ahuizotl before. We’re gonna catch him.”

“I hope so.” Velvet stuck her tongue out. “I never even got close when I was Captain of the Guard. Daring always had all the fun.”

The Everfree Forest lay before them, overgrown and bursting with uncontrollable magic. In the center of the forest, a tangle of thorny vines could be picked out of the green. The location of the old palace. The one-time seat of the Changeling Empire. Velvet leaned on the rails. “What’s the plan, ma’am?”

Stonewall shot Velvet a sidelong glance, her ears falling as surprise wrote itself across her face. “Never thought you’d call me ‘ma’am,’ ma’am.”

Velvet smirked. “You’re the brains of this operation.”

Stonewall gave her a small nod. “The fire mages are gonna cut a hole in those vines—big enough for the flagship to fit. We’ll deploy the troops while the lighter vessels maintain altitude, ready to rain heck down on anybody stupid enough to poke their head out.”

Velvet peered down and saw the faintest hint of Martial Paw’s airship, the Vanishing Point. She took a steadying breath and set her face like flint. “Just hold on, guys. Just hold on a little longer.”

***

Queen Cicada laced her consciousness through the inner workings of the Changeling Empire’s flagship. The heartbeat of the pony slaves was now interlocked and self-sustaining. Magic pumped through the body of the ship, to its legs, to its wings. With a thought, Cicada set the wings to beating. The airship rose but a few meters and stopped, its upward movement halted by a stone ceiling.

Cicada had no time for subtlety. She needed to get airborne. The time was ripe; the Sun Device was nearly complete. She knew that the pony soldiers would be drawing near.

Dozens and dozens of magic cannons swiveled, pointed upward, and fired. Their concentrated beams cut a swath through the cavern ceiling like a plasma torch. The flagship, the mightiest of the Strutters, the Hesperus Mactans itself, climbed higher and higher through the molten earth.

She came into the open air, and found herself face-to-face with the Royal Air Navy.

***

Velvet stared gap-jawed at the massive thing that climbed out of the new hole in the ground. Eight segmented legs clawed at the hillside, grasping its way towards the castle. Each leg was as tall as Twilight Sparkle’s castle, though as thin as two-lane road. The bronze-colored metal of its exterior glinted in the daylight. Two body segments shifted and shuddered with each step; together the body was larger than the Epona itself.

Eight glowing red portals shone from the spider-shaped automaton’s face. Cannons dotted the surface, all swiveling to aim devastating power towards the Equestrian Armed Forces.

“Evasive maneuvers!” Stonewall shouted. “Get us cloud-cover! Raise the magical shields now!”

The spider opened fire, and the Epona shuddered.

***

Care shook Spike’s good shoulder. “Come on, Spike. Stay with me!”

The gash in his arm was deep, nearly to the bone. The piercing in his shoulder was even more worrisome. The young dragon’s eyes flickered in an attempt to regain his wits. “Button’s in trouble—”

“We’re in trouble.” She pressed him back when he tried to stand. She peered over the rock they’d taken shelter behind. The automatons were recovering and regrouping. Most of those crushed by the stalactites were none the worse for the wear, merely coated in dents and missing limbs. Still, they moved slower, and it seemed their internal mechanisms weren’t running as smoothly as before.

With little warning, they charged.

Blankety Blank dove down to Care’s side, his insectoid eyes wide. “I c-can’t seem to do enough damage. These th-things are insane!”

Care Carrot winced at the sudden appearance of a jolt of pain in her forehead. “I don’t know how long I can keep up these fireballs. I th—”

She shrieked and threw herself to the ground. An automaton’s sword-like leg stabbed the rock right where her head had been. Blank lunged at the machine to throw it off balance, but it knocked him aside. Others were also climbing the rock, their mandibles poised to slice.

Spike gripped the foremost automaton’s legs in his claws. He braced himself with his tail thrashing. “Get out of here!” he screamed. “Go help Aunt Yearling!”

One of the automaton’s unrestrained legs lashed out and stabbed him in his arm wound. He grunted, tottering on unstable footing. Steaming tears leaked from his eyes.

Care brought her horn to a white glow. A thin, fierce lance of light and magic pierced through the machine, melting a thin trickle of material. The machine halted when she connected with its heart, and the dead automaton crumbled to the ground. Blank grabbed it from the back and tossed it bodily into the crowd of waiting monstrosities.

Care pushed Spike to the ground. “Siddown! I didn’t bring you all the way here so you could die!”

“I wanna help,” Spike said sleepily. “I need to help.”

“Then help me,” Care said, breathless, “by staying alive!”

***

Martial Paw touched down the instant Sweetie Belle had the hearts in the bag. “Hold on to me. I’ll take you past the automatons.”

Sweetie climbed aboard his back and wrapped her forelegs around his neck. The saddlebags full of hearts sagged from her sides, shimmering and glinting, hopeful to the last.

Martial got one last glance at Daring dancing around Ahiuizotl, and braced himself for takeoff.

Sweetie gasped, then shouted in his ear. “Button! Button’s hurt!”

“I’ll come back for him.” Martial locked his wings to prevent their combined weight from yanking them out of the sky. He coiled his hind legs. “You have to get out. Find the others. Rumble and Apple Bloom are still out there. They’ll help you.”

The ceiling crumbled outward.

Martial and Sweetie ducked a boulder that rained from above. A long, metallic leg lanced through the ceiling and grabbed it, pulling the two sides of the roof apart. A mechanized spider face leered at them, and other legs joined it in its mission. Sweetie screamed, and Martial took off without her.

He would have to act fast. If he could fly past and grasp her, he might be able to ease them down to the ground before—

The automatons fired at him. He pulled away and sought another opening. They gathered around the base of the tower and started the long climb to the top. Sweetie Belle looked at the machines, then to the spider overhead, then back to him. She unclasped her bags and held them out.

Martial snapped his beak. She meant to throw the bags to him! It might be the only chance to get the hearts to safety, but that left her in harm’s way.

What choice did they have?

She heaved and tossed the hearts into the air. He swooped in, around laserfire and tumbling stone, and latched the bag with his talon. He redirected himself towards Care and Blank, intending to leave the saddlebag with them now that they were no longer a target.

If he was fast, he could get back to Sweetie and do… something.

***

Daring Do’s hoof slipped. She caught herself before falling several meters to the floor, into the waiting blades of the automatons. She hung upside-down from the arm as it drew ever closer to completing the sun device. Ahuizotl circled beneath her, laughing.

“You have already failed, my dear Daring Do.” Ahuizotl leaped up and pawed at her, but she climbed out of his reach. “All your friends, all your troops, all your weapons of war, cannot stifle the march of destiny!”

“You destiny is a footnote in the history books,” Daring snapped. “It says ‘Oh yeah and Daring also fought this guy. He was dumb.’”

“I assume you refer to the fictionalized accounts of our meetings?” Ahuizotl spread his arms. “I have read them, you know. They are rather amusing. Your portrayal of me as a blithering idiot especially brings a spot of joy to my heart.”

Daring squinted at him. “Huh? Wha—?”

He launched himself at her with no warning. A massive paw slashed at Daring Do and knocked her against the side of the tower. Black filled her vision as he caught her, pinning her to the bronze-colored metal. She squirmed and kicked, but he was unmovable. His rotten breath burned her nostrils. She gagged for air.

“I feel joy,” he hissed, “because I knew how very sweet it would be when I finally, finally, got to throw all of that back into your face. Your lost loves, your dead friends, your failed missions. Your life is a story made of lies, written to entertain but little else. There is nothing to be learned. Nothing to be taught. Empty words and a dead legacy.”

His tail-hand slithered behind his back and drew the Spade of Hearts. He held the blade close to her chest. “Fanciful stories lacking worth.”

Ahuizotl’s smile filled Daring’s world. “And you’ve just reached the final chapter.”

The Spade plunged into her chest. She felt her limbs deadening. The ache in her wings fading. The will to struggle passing. Her heart burned brighter than ever before as it was drawn up from the core of her being. Her body tried to maintain its grip, but the heart’s connection was severed.

Ahuizotl held the heart in his palm as he sheathed the Spade of Hearts. “Ah, Daring Do. One of the strongest hearts I’ve ever had the ire to face. What shall I do with you? Wear you as a trophy? Use you to power a cannon that would murder your friends?”

He cupped her chin as her deadened eyes stared at nothing. “Alas. These, too, are but fanciful words. I’ve known for years and years what I would do if I ever held your life in my hands.”

He smashed the heart against the side of the tower. It turned to stardust in his grip.

***

Martial Paw’s head shot up. The flash of magic from the tower, the shriek of pain, the roar of triumph… He was forced to watch as Ahuizotl tossed Daring Do aside. Her body tumbled limply, lifelessly.

No. No, it was impossible. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t.

Martial dropped the hearts and launched himself at Daring. He was across the room in a moment, cradling her gently in his forelegs. He brought her gently to the ground, his heart shattering.

Her mustardy-yellow coat faded to gray. Her pith helmet fell from her head and rolled across the ground, forgotten. Her face, so full of life and confidence, now hung limp. Martial shook his head. It couldn’t be.

“Doctor?” His voice was stilted, halting, hesitant. He could barely get the words out. His talon trembled as he stroked her cheek. “Dr. Yearling? D-Daring? Daring, please don’t—”

Things happened around him. Terrible things. The automatons climbed the tower. The roof crumbled to reveal an open sky filled with magic. Ahuizotl roared in victory as the great machine tore the sun device out of the ground.

Martial didn’t care. His entire world lay solely in his talons. “Daring, please, don’t go.”

He pulled her close and wept. There was nothing else he could do. She was gone forever. Completely and totally. Nothing left.

It couldn’t be, but it was.

He grasped her pocket watch in his talon. It fell open, the latch having been shattered. The crystal within was broken, and the hands were stopped dead. The picture beneath, of Daring Do and Time Turner, stared back at him, telling a tale of lost joy.

Martial Paw crumbled beneath the pressure. “Don’t leave me here alone.”

***

Button Mash rose to his hooves. He staggered up to Caballeron, who didn’t so much as react to his presence. The wound was dangerous, but clean. If he acted fast, he could save him. He pulled bandages from his saddlebags and pressed them over the blade’s entry point.

A blow to the side of his head knocked him to the ground. Before he could move, he was gathered up by mechanical limbs, restrained and enclosed. A Painted One scowled at him from behind the automaton. “You shall heal the servant of Ahuizotl, sure enough. But on his time.”

The lot of them rose into the air, and were devoured by the spider.

The Obstinate Alliance

Smoke clouded Twilight Velvet’s vision. The crash of magic against magic rattled through her brain as the spider’s assault continued against several hastily-erected magic shields. She picked herself off the deck and looked around for Stonewall. The pegasus mare fluttered around, barking orders as any good Captain of the Guard was wont to do.

An earth pony trotted onto the deck and was soon the focal point of Stonewall’s barrage. “What did they hit? How soon can we return fire?”

“They wrecked the engine room,” the pony said. He was covered in soot, the tips of his mane and tail burned off. “They demolished most of the engines. It’s like they knew exactly where to fire. Every single attack hit something of importance.”

Twilight Velvet stumbled up to their side, a hoof pressed against her rapidly-bruising shoulder. “Any casualties?”

“Twelve moderate to serious injuries,” he said, “but no fatalities. So far.”

Stonewall soared towards the cabin, where the communications officer was glued to her radio. “What’s the status of the other ships?”

“The front ships are a mess, ma’am.” The operator scribbled notes with the pencil in her mouth, pressing the earpiece hard against her head. “Rear ones got the shields up in time. Only four ships are flyable. The others are toasted. Dead in the sky.”

Twilight Velvet ran her eyes over the weapons mounted to the side of the Epona. None of them were harmed, but without generators to back them up, they’d be all but useless. She looked down at the spider scaling what was left of the castle. The thing was still two kilometers away. How had it hit them with such accuracy from that far?

The back of the automaton opened up, and several amber hexagons folded out from the interior. They aligned themselves in four broad wings and glowed with a rainbow of magic. Velvet’s stomach churned. “Of course it’s a flyder. Of all the—”

She spun around and shouted to the cabin. “Stonewall! It’s taking off! If you don’t pursue it, Ahuizotl’ll be lost forever!”

Centurion Stonewall smashed her hooves together. She gritted her teeth before barking at the radio operator. “Tell the functional ships to follow at… let’s start with four kilometers. Keep the blasted thing in sight, and give us constant positional updates.”

Twilight Velvet noted several dragonfly-shaped vehicles following the flyder through the sky. A few bulkier mechanoids joined the fray, soon coming to rest on the surface of the mothership. “They’ve got short-range strike craft.”

Stonewall landed beside her, her white coat and red-brick mane blackened by ashes. “Horseapples.” She paused as she watched the four able vessels trail after their target, then threw her head back to shout at everybody in earshot. “Bring us down! Make sure the landing party’s still ready! Be alert for Painted Ones and whatever else Ahuizotl left behind!”

Twilight Velvet gave her riot armor’s clasps a check and trotted towards the lower decks. “I’m going with them.”

Stonewall stopped her with a hoof. “What?”

“I’m going to make sure my friends and family are alright.” Velvet brushed her away, smiling with as much sincerity as she was able to manufacture. “Relax. I’ve still got it. I am a knight, you know.”

“As if you would ever let me forget.” Stonewall presented her a quick salute.

Velvet joined the ranks as the envelope was tugged downward by pegasi in the riggings. The loading doors opened, and the soldiers marched forth. They came to the throne room first. Velvet glanced around at the dismal remains of her daughter’s friends’ restorative efforts, forgotten and discarded so many years ago. Life had completely left the castle.

Behind the thrones, a cavernous opening lay bare. Straight down, into the heart of the Everfree Forest, lay the room the Spider had pulled a long, mechanoid-covered something from. There, to the east, lay the hole from which the spider had emerged.

Soldiers produced rope ladders and tethers, and pegasi scouted out the drop. They soon came back up, reporting that the enemy was all but removed from the compound beneath the soil. Unicorns helped to secure the ladders, while pegasi measured out the length needed. They descended little by little, step by step, hoof over hoof. Velvet kept her mind on what she was doing, rather than allow herself to be overwhelmed by pointless speculation. The cavern brightened with hornlight, though it was soon overtaken by magilights placed at regular intervals.

It was a large, empty room, with a pit in the center decorated with clockwork and cogs. She could see destroyed automatons being piled in the corner. Blankety Blank and Care Carrot stood beside Spike, who was lying curled up on the ground. Velvet’s heart raced. What had happened to her little boy?

She unclasped herself from the ladder and ran over to the three of them. Her legs burned at the sight of the gash in his arm and the terrifying wound in his shoulder. “What—Spike, can you hear me?”

“M-mom?” Spike shivered, his eyelids fluttering. “M-mom?”

“He’s in shock.” Care waved to a pony coming down the ladder, one who had a red cross as their cutie mark. “We need to get him medical care as fast as possible!”

Velvet cupped Spike’s cheeks with her hooves, planting a tiny kiss on his nose. “It’ll be okay, Spike. Mommy’s here.”

“M-mom.” Spike’s tail whisked back and forth as pain crossed his face. “Wh—where’s Apple Bloom? Is she safe?”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Velvet said. She stepped aside to allow the medic access. He brought out cleaning solutions to clear the wounds of dust and filth.

He paused, pursing his lips. “Is there something he can bite down on? Something he won’t just bite through?”

Blankety dragged a leg of a dismembered automaton over and placed it between Spike’s teeth. “S-Spike, this is g-gonna hurt a lot, buddy.”

Velvet held onto Spike’s claw and shut her eyes tight as the medic cleaned Spikes wounds. The young dragon screamed through the leg, the sound of metal groaning mingling with the repressed roar. The medic wrapped the arm in bandages to finally stop the bleeding. The shoulder was next, though it seemed to be a much more patchwork job, due to Spike’s odd physique.

The medic shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t do much more here. He needs a real medical facility, with ponies who know how dragons work. But… I don’t think any of our ships are okay to fly.”

“We’ll take the Vanishing Point.” Care touched her hoof to Velvet’s shoulder. “It runs on a crew of two, so Blank and I can take him to Canterlot.”

Velvet brushed the top of Spike’s head. A strand of her mane found its way into her mouth, and she chewed accordingly. She sucked in a hesitant breath. “I’m going with you.”

“Spike!”

Apple Bloom charged across the room, far outpacing Scootaloo, Rumble, and a cadre of other ponies. Velvet gave the newcomers a closer look. They shambled forward, their eyes lifeless and dull. They were the heartless, then.

Blankety gave Velvet a pair of saddlebags. “Here. It’s p-probably best if you handle the hearts. Those people will be w-wanting them b-back.”

“But—”

Apple Bloom nearly collided with them on her warpath to Spike’s side. She sent a panicked look towards the medic. “What happened to him?”

When the medic couldn’t answer, Care stepped in. “Ahuizotl happened. The guy stood against Ahuizotl all by himself. We charged in as fast as we could, but…”

A stretcher was brought forth. A few soldiers carefully eased Spike onto the carrier and strapped him in. Velvet looked down at the saddlebags and shook her head. “I—I can’t. I have to go with my—”

“Velvet, we’ll take c-care of him.” Blankety gave Twilight a reassuring hoof to the chest. “We n-need you down here to help these p-ponies.”

“B-but he’s my son.”

“I know.” Blankety heaved a breath. “But I have to help fly the ship. I n-need you to distribute the hearts while the troops clear out the caverns.”

“Can’t Daring do that?” Velvet clutched the saddlebags tight, casting her eyes on her youngest. “Can’t she do either of those?”

“She’s not here, and Spike needs to move n-n-now.” Blankety Blank pressed against her, moving her closer to the soulless ones. “Please. Trust me.”

Twilight Velvet looked down into the bags. A rainbow of living color shone forth, dancing across her face and dazzling her eyes. She shut the clasp and brushed tears from her cheeks. “Hurry.”

They moved Spike quickly and carefully, and he was hoisted into the air on four ropes. Care, Apple Bloom, and Blankety followed them up, with Apple Bloom casting a quick glance downward at Scootaloo.

Scootaloo waved with a bandaged hoof. “Don’t worry about a thing, Bloom! We’ll save Sweetie Belle in time for supper!”

Velvet looked at Rumble, who looked like he rather needed a medic himself. Since he was the only one of their crew wearing Royal Guard armor, she figured he was ripe for a report. “Soldier. What happened?”

He stood up as straight as his wing injury would allow. “It’s a long story, ma’am. The short of it is: We got separated, but Apple Bloom found the captured ponies, Button Mash and I ran into the Painted Ones’ army of automatons, and Daring Do’s crew found their way here.” He glanced upward. “I guess Spike got himself into that mess.”

Velvet’s ear twitched. “Where are Daring Do and Martial Paw?”

“I don’t know, ma’am.” Rumble swiveled his head around. His mouth popped open and he pointed. “I think…”

Twilight followed his directions. Her heart collapsed in on itself.

Martial Paw staggered towards them, his eyes red and watery. His wings ragged and dirty. His gaze heated and pained. He clutched Daring Do in one arm, cradled gently, her head propped up with his talon.

Velvet dropped the saddlebags and ran to his side. She only needed to touch Daring to know. She only needed to see her up close to understand. She brought a hoof to Daring’s chin and nuzzled her cheek.

Her best friend was gone.

A large stallion standing among the heartless removed his hat and held it over his heart. His expression was not sad, but merely solemn. He gave Velvet a nod towards the saddlebags. “She gave her life so that these ponies might live. Mayhap ‘tis time to honor her wishes.”

Martial Paw stared at the stallion. “Kiln? Kiln?” He gently lowered Daring’s body to the ground, his breath becoming shallower and more labored. He let out a roar and charged, his talons outstretched and his beak snapping.

Rumble and Scootaloo stepped between Martial and his target and waved their hooves. “Hold it,” Scootaloo said. “Stop, dude, he’s cool! He helped—!”

Martial shoved them aside and clasped his talons around Kiln’s neck. He lifted the large stallion upward, until he was standing on his hind legs. Kiln let out a small squeak of breath as the life was squeezed from him.

“Dude! Stop! Marty!” Scootaloo punched Martial in the flank, hard enough to leave a bruise. “Drop him Marty! Marty!”

Twilight Velvet touched a horn to Martial’s skin. The griffon stiffened, then fell limp. Kiln collapsed, coughing weakly in the wake of being throttled. He gave Velvet as grateful a glance as he could, then dragged himself away from the unconscious Martial Paw.

“Somepony restrain this griffon!” Twilight shouted, her voice hoarse. She picked up the saddlebags, her forelegs trembling. “And bring Dr. Yearling to… to the surface.”

She reached in and plucked a heart from those available. It glimmered a brilliant pink, to match the eyes of a mare near the middle of the huddle. She held the heart out. “Is this yours?”

The pony marched up to her, staring at nothing in particular. The closer she got to the heart, the more she gave Velvet her attention.

As Martial was bound behind her, and Daring was lifted on a stretcher, Twilight Velvet pressed the heart against the mare’s chest. “Everything’s gonna be alright, honey. It’s time to go home.”

***

Cadence tightened Shining’s chin strap with a flash of her horn. She looked into each of his bright blue eyes in turn, laying a kiss on the cheeks beneath. The bustle of warriors preparing for battle surrounded them as the Crystal Guard girded themselves. Shining smiled at her, touching his nose to hers. “’Dance, I think I know how to put on a helmet by now.”

“Hush and let me pretend I’m contributing.” Cadence stepped aside for a solider carrying a bundle of enchanted spears. “Warfare’s never really been my thing. That’s what you and Aunt Luna are for.”

“And war there shall be!” Luna’s gilded armor gleamed as she stepped into the war room. The Night Guard surrounded her, their bat-like wings folded against their armor. She hefted a spear with a tip laced with magic like midnight. “We shall chase Ahuizotl to the ends of the earth!”

Celestia approached next, walking away from the communications officer in the corner. “The Epona is unflyable, but salvageable. We’ll have to use the smaller vessels to pursue Ahuizotl.”

Shining Armor grunted as his armorbearer attached his quiver of lances to his back. “That means the Heartbreaker is the best ship to spearhead the assault. I’ll supply the shield so the spider-thing can’t cripple us again. What’s the word on griffon aid, your majesty?”

Celestia held back a groan with impressive control. She turned away from Shining to hide the frown she was less able to repress. “Perhaps I was too hasty.”

“You are certainly the master of understatement, Celestia!” Luna slammed the butt of her spear against the ground. “Without him, there would be no Canterlot. We are foals to deny his assistance.”

Shining Armor glanced between the two High Princesses, his ears lowered. He cleared his throat, and Celestia gave him her attention again. “Tactically speaking, I wouldn’t mind a few volleyguns backing me up.”

Cadence sighed. Tactical experience or no, she did understand the value in numbers. “Perhaps the four of us should approach the king at once… with Aunt Luna doing the speaking.”

Luna spread her wings to catch the attention of her guards. “Continue preparations and configure the formations for additional air support. We shall return shortly.”

No sooner had the four of them began the quick walk to Andean’s chambers, than they were intercepted by Chrysalis II. She ran at them full force, her legs wildly scrambling for purchase and speed. Her face was framed by a panic-strewn pink mane, and her strange, strange eyes blazed pink with a mixture of fear and hopefulness. “P-Princess Celestia!”

Celestia and Cadence exchanged a quick glance. It was perplexing to the both of them, it seemed. The eldest princess broke away from the others to meet Chrysalis down the hall. “What’s the matter? Where have you been?”

“She trailed me to Andean’s room,” Luna said, eyeing Chrysalis up and down. “She is not as stealthy as she believes herself to be.”

“Andean—” Chrysalis winced at Luna’s remark, but soldiered on. “Andean’s a traitor!”

What? Cadence felt like she’d been hit with a ball thrown from left field. She watched Celestia closely for her reaction—

And was once again blindsided, this time by Princess Luna marching forward with purposeful, vengeful strides. “I beg your pardon! These are not allegations to bring lightly, Queen of the Changelings! Andean is a friend and companion! A noble and steadfast warrior! A loyal ally! To accuse him of such nonsense requires more than doe eyes and a bleeding heart to sway me! We demand proof, or we shall treat your contempt of him with contempt of our own!”

Celestia spread her wings to prevent Luna’s approach. “What my sister means is that we would like to see what has led you to this conclusion. This is a very serious issue and, if true, requires swift action. If it is false, then we will find out just why you wish to sow doubt between Equestria and its allies—”

“I heard him talking with two other people.” Chrysalis leaped between Celestia’s words, one hoof outstretched as if grasping for a lifeline. “One named… M-Mangle. The other spoke with a… lilting accent. He said that if you continue to be ‘obstinate’—” Her voice shifted, taking on the timber and cadence of Andean Ursagryph himself. “—‘our only recourse is to accept Ahuizotl’s request.’”

Luna tugged Celestia’s wing out of her face and pressed it against her sister’s side. “I shall speak to him myself to find the truth of this.”

Celestia pulled herself away and held her head imperiously high. “We shall speak to him together, sister. I wish to hear from the proverbial horse’s mouth.”

Shining Armor resumed the approach, and Cadence moved to catch up. “My question,” he said, “is what Ahuizotl’s request really is.”

With little else to say, the five creatures found themselves at Andean’s door soon enough. Celestia knocked, and they waited with hushed breath.

One of Andean’s guards—Crested Barbary, if Cadence was correct—answered the door. Without a word, he opened the door wider to allow them entry. Celestia nodded her thanks, and she entered.

The room was one of the larger suites in the castle, specifically designed to harbor visiting griffon kings and their families. Andean had only made use of the facilities twice in his five-hundred years of ruling Felaccia; once during the hunt for Hurricane, once this year. The architecture was subtly shifted from the sweeping pegasalian pillars and rounded stained glass windows, instead featuring a more angular, barren appearance. The bed was open, shirking the standard curtains or veils. The bathroom was large, the bathtub having more in common with a public pool than anything else.

Andean reclined on a couch beneath the clear windows. Two smooth stones, gray in color and glossy in finish, sat in his palm, which he rolled between his talons. He turned his head to one side to look Celestia in the eye. “I suspect something has gone horribly wrong.”

Luna spoke before Celestia could open her mouth. “You have been accused of allying with Ahuizotl. How do you respond?”

Andean sighed. He stood, the scabbard of his sword scraping against the marble floor. “This is perhaps not the best time for a confrontation—”

“Andean Ursagryph—” Celestia stalked around Luna, her voice strong and her ire apparent. “—if it is found you have been consorting with an enemy of the state, of the entire world, then there shall be dire consequences.”

Andean placed his talon on the hilt of his broadsword. “Dire, you say. Consequences, you say. Indeed, Celestia, there would be consequences.”

His eye slipped over to Chrysalis, who shrank beneath the heat of his stare. “I suspect you overheard something you shouldn’t have.”

Celestia flicked an ear. “So you admit—”

“Let him speak,” Luna said. “Andean, please explain.”

Andean’s talon squeezed the hilt tighter. “Ahuizotl has indeed come to me, and several other world leaders. He says that he holds the secret to raising the sun and moon without the help of alicorns.” He raised a free talon to point at Celestia’s chest. “Considering the circumstances, I am inclined to hear him out.”

Celestia drew her head back. “Considering? Andean, you are a fool if you believe anything Ahuizotl says is worth listening to! He is a madcreature, bent on tearing the world apart and rebuilding it as his own twisted perception of paradise! For you to so much as meet with him would be utterly insane! The sun and moon belong to the ponies, and the ponies alone!”

Andean sneered. “Do they belong to the ponies, Celestia? Or do they merely belong to your inner circle? Or worse, are they on loan from you, untouchable save for under your precise guidance and command?”

Celestia stepped up to him to meet him eye-to-eye. “They were given into our safekeeping, so that their power would not be abused!”

Andean lifted his head, gaining height on Celestia. He spread his wings to blot the sunlight from the window. “You speak to me of consequences, while ignoring the consequences that even now bare their sinister teeth! Celestia, you cannot keep the sun rising indefinitely!”

“It is my charge to—!”

Andean drew his sword in a single swift motion. He spun it in front of Celestia until it was pointing downward. With the whole of his might, he drove it into the floor so that the point was buried. A thunderous crash of lightning filled the room, the red pommel stone of the sword shining bright with magic.

Celestia fell to her rump. She stared at the sword with her mouth hanging open. Luna was by her side immediately. She brandished her spear, aiming it just above Andean’s head. Silence descended on the room as the thunder faded down the halls.

Andean released the sword. It stood on its own, its cross guard glinting in the light of Luna’s horn. He took a step back and folded his wings. The windows behind him had been blown out by the force of his strike.

“But a few years ago,” Andean said quietly, “you would have struck me down before the sword was out of its scabbard.”

He leveled his talon at Celestia’s chest, where the white scar held greatest prominence. “But you were unable to do anything. You were unable to so much as cast a shield. Nor could you grasp the sword. Nor could you teleport away.”

His talon touched magic. He pulled away from the shield Shining Armor had laced through midair between the king and the ponies.

“You could not defend yourself,” Andean said. “Just as you can no longer raise the sun. Do you deny it?”

Chrysalis shifted beside Cadence. The fear in her eyes had transformed. The changeling queen now looked at Celestia with what could only be a sense of betrayal.

Andean nodded. “You do not deny it because you cannot.”

Cadence had known. As had Luna, Celestia, Shining Amor, Twilight Sparkle, and a few relatives. Sworn to secrecy, of course. The knowledge that the assassin’s attack had done that much damage to Celestia… It would have been national suicide to reveal such. Cadence had taken her fair share of mornings. Luna and Twilight, too. They’d kept up appearances. They’d been careful to keep everything as it should be.

“You have been diminished, Celestia.” Andean sat and rolled the smooth stones between his talons. “The same could happen to any of your assistants. Yet all of this, and you have no backup plan. You have no way to control the sun or moon without the power of the alicorn. The old ways have fallen into disuse and obscurity. Any magical device is destroyed. Anyone who attempts any sort of control is demonized. You have not been given the sun. You have taken it by force.”

“You promised,” Chrysalis whimpered. “You promised we’d be safe.”

“Safe?” Andean snapped his beak, and Chrysalis shut her eyes. “Safety is hardly Celestia’s priority. Do not confuse security with safety. Do not confuse control with compassion. Celestia has inflicted her idealized vision on the world since the day she first wore her crown. One where the ponies are at the top, and all other species support her.”

“You are not being fair Andean,” Luna said. She laid her spear to the side and removed her helmet, letting her mane flow free. “She has brought a peace to this world that it has never before known.”

“How has she gone about this?” Andean counted down on his talons. “Some nations have been stifled, their agency taken away. Some nations have been declawed, any military might being forced to conform to Equestria. Still others have been nearly destroyed in her quest for peace.”

Andean Ursagryph glared at Celestia. “Have you ever told her the truth of why Felaccia is ruled by an Ursagryph? Have you told anybody?”

All eyes turned to Celestia. She glanced around before turning a hard glare on Andean. “Felaccia was marching on Giraffrica with the intent to conquer the zebras. I stepped in and stopped them.”

“You stepped in without a request from the zebras.” Andean stalked closer, until he could rest a talon on the shimmering red pommel stone of his broadsword. “You teleported yourself into the command center the day before the battle was to begin. The griffon army waited in the valley below. We could see the light of your brilliance shining through the king’s tent. There was arguing. Shouting. And then…”

He raised his head, tilting his beak to indicate the sun. “A pillar of fire lanced down from the sky and obliterated the tent.”

“Berkut was planning far more than the conquest of the zebras!” Celestia stomped a hoof. “He would have marched all over the face of the world, bringing ruin upon all! You would have me stand by and do nothing?”

“King Berkut Paw was none of your business!” Andean flapped a wing. The wind nearly caused the ponies present to lose their balance. “Neither was what you did next! You stuck this very sword in the dirt and claimed the next king would be chosen by trial of combat!”

Celestia kept up her stone-faced countenance, her wings spread. “I thought that was how your society decided these things.”

“With one-on-one combat. In a contained environment and with strict rules.” Andean flexed his talon. He allowed his wings to fall as his shoulders slumped. “Not the bloodbath it became after you left. And so the crown fell to the strongest among us…”

He wrenched the sword from the marble. He slid it back into its scabbard, just as sharp as the moment he first revealed it. “And now here we are, Celestia. At another tipping point in history. Once again you seek to bend others to your will, with dire consequences waiting on the other side.”

He drew close to her. Close enough that Cadence could see his breath stirring Celestia’s pinkish mane.

“And yet,” he whispered, “this time, you do not have the power to back up your ideals. This time you are at the mercy of your enemies, allies, and friends.”

He waved a talon at Luna, Cadence, and Shining. He stopped with Chrysalis, who cowered beside the bed. “Still, rather than embrace them as they are, you seek to conform them to you will. To deny them their own agency. To convince them that there is no other way.”

He brushed past her, and walked out of the room. “I’ll seek to raise the sun myself, because I’ll not see Felaccia die with Equestria.”

Celestia strode to the window and looked out on the courtyard. The Royal Guard airships took off one my one down the mountainside. “Then you’ll do so in opposition to us.”

Andean nodded, but did not look back. “So be it.”

“Dare ye not such tomfoolery!” Luna trotted after Andean and stopped him with a magical tug on his tiny brown tail. “Andean, you are a friend and far wiser than any give you credit for. But you are set to make a simpleton of yourself. We know of the danger, my friend. We have sought alternate methods of raising the sun ourselves. We will soon begin a class in the School for Gifted Unicorns that teaches the old ways.”

“But still it lies in pony hooves.” Andean stopped his long strides to turn to her. “Don’t you see? You keep so much to yourselves, and see so little merit in others.”

“But we were coming to gain your help.” Luna reached up to lay her hooves on Andean’s shoulders. “We cannot stop Ahuizotl on our own, not as it stands. Not without risking losing him again. We need the Blitzwings of Felaccia. We need the Stella and Corona airships. Together we can bring Ahuizotl down and—”

“And destroy his sun device once and for all.” Andean brought his beak down, and the low tones of his voice caused Luna to take a step back. “Because Celestia would never allow Felaccia to possess such a terrible thing.”

All eyes turned to Celestia. She simply shook her head.

Luna swallowed hard. “P-perhaps we could study it together?”

Andean’s eyes softened. He placed a gentle talon on Luna’s shoulder. “I’m afraid I must withdraw my offer to assist Equestria for the time being.” He continued down the hall, alongside his guards, and was soon out of sight, leaving the others in the ruins of his suite.

Luna paced back and forth, the color in her cheeks intensifying. Cadence touched her chest as she passed. “Luna, we need to move on with the—”

“The operation, yes, I know.” Luna lightly batted Cadence’s hoof aside. “I don’t suppose the changelings would offer their help?”

She frowned when she saw Chrysalis. The changeling queen huddled down, nearly out of sight, covering her face with her mane. “Queen Chrysalis? Did you bring warriors?”

Cadence moved closer to the changeling, but she skittered out of reach. She lowered her head to Chrysalis’ level, her brow furrowed. “Your majesty. If you can offer any help, we’d be happ—”

She stopped talking. She knew nothing she said was getting through. The queen was not capable of answering. Tears ran down Chrysalis’ cheeks of carapace. Her shoulder shook with silent sobs. She was barely able to breathe through the sorrow.

Shining Armor approached, laying a hoof on her shoulder. “Queen Chrysalis, are you hurt? I can call the medics—”

“Don’t touch me!” Chrysalis leaped back, her wings flared. Her tears burned ever hotter. “Please, just go! Just leave me alone.”

Cadence gaped at the display. Chrysalis tried to bolt for the door, but Luna stood in her way. “Chrysalis, if something is wrong, let us help you.”

“I’m sorry!” Chrysalis sobbed. “I’m sorry I ruined everything! I was so scared, and I thought you could help and… and Celestia was supposed to…”

She looked to the blown-open windows, yet remained where she was when she saw Celestia was still standing there. She slumped to the floor, covering her face with perforated hooves.

Cadence gave her mane and tail a double-take. The colors shifted ever-so-slightly. A tinge of purple appeared and refused to fade. The queen of the changelings almost seemed to shrink as she curled in on herself, wracked with silent sobs.

Luna grimaced, glancing away from Chrysalis’ shame. “Hardly the actions of a queen.”

“Chrysalis,” Celestia said with a slow breath. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”

“N-no.” Chrysalis squeaked out the answer, her voice pitchy, losing the reverberation she’d had since she arrived in Canterlot. “I-I am the q-q-queen.”

Cadence squinted at the changeling. She was much smaller. Her mane and tail had lost every trace of pink, becoming a shade of light blue. Her horn sparked with green changeling magic, and her body briefly flickered with its power, but she could not maintain the disguise.

Luna shook her head. She exchanged a look with Celestia, filled with the confusion they both shared. “Chrysalis, how old are you?”

“D-don’t look at me!” Chrysalis crawled away from Cadence and ran headfirst into Shining’s armored chest. She choked out a final sob, her entire body shaking. “P-p-please don’t look…”

Cadence’s heart shattered within her chest. Shining Armor’s trusting, trustworthy blue eyes, full of strength and assurance, had gone wide in horror. His chest shuddered as his breathing became pained. His pupils shrank.

The changeling queen’s brilliant blue eyes became a stark, perfect mirror of his own.

“Sh—” Shining Armor’s tongue tripped over the truth. “She’s twelve years old.”

***

Twilight Velvet wandered around the ancient, decrepit changeling city. It was empty, devoid of life or anything worth investigating. Ahuizotl had cleaned it out.

In the room with the giant pit, where the spider had climbed from the depths and drilled through the ceiling, she found a pegasus stallion crumpled against the wall. His blue mop of a mane was singed, and what was once a very handsome face was covered in grit and grime. She checked for a pulse, found one, and called soldiers to tend to him. If he was a Painted One, he’d be shuffled off to Solitaire, the most secure prison for mortals available. If he was a victim of Ahiuizotl, he’d be returned to his family. If he had a family…

That was the way it had gone the whole day. Radio reports from the scout ships said the spider was angling away from Canterlot and heading for the ocean. What the mad god hoped to find there, Twilight had no clue. Pony airships couldn’t cross the ocean without heavy support. Adequate fuel, food, and radio contact were difficult to support in a flying machine. The navy would need to be assembled. Their allies across the waters would need to be notified. If Ahuizotl could cross the ocean, he could disappear, never to return.

At least until it was too late to stop him.

“Ach, Rhombus,” a large stallion said, lifting the pegaus onto his shoulders. “Ye went an’ did sommat foolhardy.”

Twilight Velvet gave the stallion a low glower. “You and Rhombus… you worked with Caballeron. You were the ones who kidnapped Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle.”

“Aye.” Kiln tipped his hat and gave the Knight of Harmony a wide berth. “We were tryin’ tae free the doctor from Ahuizotl’s slavery. He was forced into it, ye see. The only way he’d be freed was to help Ahuizotl activate his sun device.” Kiln flicked an ear knowingly. “Ye see, only the doctor knows how the blamed thing works.”

Twilight Velvet scuffed a hoof in the dirt. “So what you’re edging for is to rescue Caballeron.”

“Without him, Ahuizotl’s out o’ luck.” Kiln tapped his nose. “It won’t stop him fore’er, but it’ll take him a wee bit longer to threaten the world like he intends.”

Velvet narrowed her eyes at the much larger stallion. “And you want me to delay imprisoning you so that you can help retrieve him?”

“Ye are a sharp lass, Lady Velvet.”

“I know your type, Kiln.” She flicked her horn to indicate the unconscious pegasus. “I also know that you and your pet psychopath back there are dangerous.”

“More than a mite, marm.” Kiln bowed his head as he was surrounded by Royal Guardsponies. “But we’re on yer side. I dinnae wish to see Ahuizotl’s bonnie blue behind on any sort o’ throne.”

“Say I let you come with us.” Twilight tilted her head, her horn glittering at the edges. “What can you offer that I can’t get from far more reliable sources?”

“Simply put, lass,” Kiln said, “we know where they’re goin’.”

“And that would be?”

Kiln chuckled, bringing his head to her level. “Felaccia.”

The Long Goodbye

Andean Ursagryph stood before the front gates of the Ponyville Castle. Two Royal Guardsponies, a crystal stallion and a unicorn mare, bowed at the neck. He rolled his two smooth stones in the palm of his talon, looking up at the towering magical tree. “You say they’re on a walk?”

“Yes, your grace.” Coldstone looked up at the griffon, his brow furrowed. “If you want, I could shoot a message to Commander Skyhook to bring them back.”

“No need, soldier.” Andean opened the doors and walked slowly into the castle halls. “I have no reason to hurry at the moment. And neither do they.”

He stretched his wings to touch both walls. It was a wide corridor, enough for a full-grown dragon. An impressive bit of magic construction, in his opinion. The hall soon led to the central chamber of the castle, which held The Map and the six equidistant thrones, plus a smaller one beside Princess Twilight’s.

The princess herself ran haphazardly through the room, her saddlebags bulging with scrolls and books. She skidded to a halt when she caught sight of him. “King Ursagryph! It’s an honor!” She set about securing her bags with a flash of magic. The gemstone necklace she always wore glimmered with each syllable she spoke. “I’m sorry, but I can’t talk. I’ve got to get to Canterlot immediately with these Encyclopedia Draco excepts. I’ve got a friend there who really needs help.”

Her horn flashed, and a magic mirror dropped into his talon before he could speak. “Here,” she said, her attention anywhere but on him. “This’ll allow you to contact the captain of my guard; Commander Skyhook. He can tell you where the kids are. It’s been a real honor, but I gotta go!”

Her horn glowed white, and she vanished in a cloud of lavender sparkles.

Andean took a seat between the thrones of Honesty and Generosity. He set the mirror on the inactive table and breathed a sigh. No. Let the girls have their fun while they could.

Griffon airships could move faster across the sea than whatever Ahuizotl possessed.

He almost didn’t want to face his daughters. Not with the knowledge he had. Not with what he was about to do. Ahuizotl was mad, to be sure, but if he held the key to saving the world…

Could Andean do less than meet him halfway?

The stained glass—or perhaps pure crystal—windows shifted color as the sun fell. They would be back soon. Then they could pack and set out for home. Perhaps never to return.

Andean would not go to war with Equestria. To go to war with the ponies was to invite death upon all. He had forged too strong a friendship. He had made too stalwart an ally. Hopefully, Luna could bring Celestia to see things that way.

He shut his eyes and rubbed the top of his beak. “Sheesha, if there has ever been a time I was uncertain, it is now. Show me the way to go forward. Reveal to me your perfect plan.”

The room took on a warm haze in the evening hour. Andean sat back and awaited his daughters, singing softly to himself.

“Gawrock melchila
Kroota kree Vakelra
Kretchwaugh Vreen
O Sheesha chakii

“Papa Return” in Equish. Awesome and mighty, Friend and Protector, the King with lightning in His wings, O Papa return. A favorite of his queen’s family: the Paw clan. Fayr Paw Ursagryph would sing it to their children each night, from the moment she was expecting, to the moment she breathed her last. He closed his eyes and saw her beautiful smiling face. Feathers tinged with red. Delicate talons cradling their children. A warm nibble behind his ear for when he missed a feather preening.

What would Fayr think of him now?

He fell silent, and wished for all the world to never know the answer.

***

Flurry Heart allowed herself a smile as she drifted on the wind above Ponyville. The lot of them—Corona, Stella, and Twilight Amore—flew through the air, with Silver Lance hitching a ride on Commander Skyhook’s back. The bat pony guard gave him a signal to hold on tight, and followed through with a loop that left the colt breathlessly laughing.

Corona tapped Flurry’s shoulder and pointed. “There’s Scuttlebutt. Looks like he’s with that Glasses pony again.”

Flurry peered at Scuttlebutt, the pony Lance had described as “all wrong,” and Glasses, who had been described as “empty.” The two of them shambled away from the bar, which was strange enough since the evening was just beginning. “Don’t ponies usually drink the night away, not the midafternoon?”

“Search me. My father won’t even let us look at alcohol.” Corona shrugged and thumbed a talon at Skyhook. “Should we mention something to tall, dark, and spooky?”

“I think he’s a teetotaler, but—”

“I meant about Scuttlebutt.”

Flurry scratched her mane. “What would we say exactly? That there’s a weird pony walking around with a teenager?”

“Actually,” Skyhook said, “I’d be pretty interested in whatever you have to say.”

The two of them looked to the Royal Guardspony, one with lips pressed together and the other tapping her beak. Corona sent a quick glance at the other kids, then pointed at the ground. “Since we’ve been here, we’ve been noticing something strange going on around Mrs. Mare and Scuttlebutt.”

Skyhook flicked his feathery ears and peered at the ground. A tiny glow could be seen as magic flashed through his draconic eyes. “The grape vine says that the two of them are courting in secret. Not very secret if the whole town knows about it.”

Silver Lance looped his forelegs around Skyhook’s neck. “I don’t think they’re courting. There’s something scary about them.”

Skyhook’s face briefly looked as though he was about to dismiss the thought, but he held back. He sent another enhanced glance at Scuttlebutt and Glasses. “I think it might be best if you kids let me keep an eye on it. If there is something going on, I don’t want the five of you mixed up in it. Have you told anypony else?”

“Grandma Velvet,” Flurry said. “But she’s… in the Everfree right now.”

“Right.” Skyhook tipped his helmet to Silver. “What kinda scary are you talking about?”

“Scuttlebutt isn’t a pony.” Silver tapped his horn. “And Mrs. Mare is really, really angry. At everybody.”

Skyhook gave Silver a smile. “Your dad said I should trust that horn of yours. Alright. Consider me in on this little investigation.” He sent a severe frown around to the rest of them. “But I mean it, keep your distance. It’s my job to keep you safe, and I can’t do that if you’re running headfirst into danger. Got it?”

“Yes sir,” came the unanimous reply.

His eyes dimmed when he turned his body to face the sunset. “It’s time for you guys to head back to the castle. I’ve gotta talk with Coldstone and Snowcap a sec.”

They landed on the castle’s front steps and bid Skyhook goodnight. The five of them walked quickly but sleepily after a long day playing, investigating, and exploring Ponyville.

Stella paused in midair as they came to the open circle of thrones. “Sheesha?”

The King of the Felaccia hunched over the table, handily dwarfing everything else in the room. The final glow of the sun faded, and the castle’s natural magical lightning took over. It cast the room in shades of blue and green, which glinted against the chandelier hanging above their heads. Andean slipped a mirror away in his bags and held out his talons.

“Sheesha!” Stella bolted right to him and hugged his massive beard of feathers. “You came to visit!”

Flurry folded her wings and sat what felt like a safe distance away from the hulking feline-avian. Her brother and sister joined her, neither quite sure how to respond to his presence. His eyes were kind as he turned them on his youngest, and he ran a single talon over her white crest.

“Hello Stella, Corona.” His voice trembled ever so slightly as he turned to Flurry. “Flurry Heart, Twilight Amore, and Silver Lance. I am very pleased to meet you. I trust you five have enjoyed spending time together?”

“Yes, Sheesha!” Stella’s voice was bright as bells, and melodic as birdsong. “We met Pinkie Pie and Applejack and Big Mac and so many other people from the stories! It’s so gawrock! I can’t wait to spend all summer here!”

He held out a talon for Corona. She stayed where she was, her wins slightly spread. “Is something wrong, Father? You didn’t come here for a social visit.”

He lowered his talon and nodded. “I’m afraid we must cut out visit short.”

“What!” Stella’s beak fell open. She clawed at his beard, her wings vibrating against her back. “B-but Sheesha! Kroota vreev! Kroota vreen… Ka chakii?”

“I’m sorry, Stella.” Andean turned his head aside. “We are no longer welcome here.”

“You are, too!”

Flurry Heart leaped as her younger sister strode up to the griffon king. “You’re all welcome here, with us,” Twilight Amore said. “And nothing can change that. If you can’t stay in Canterlot, just stay here.”

Corona’s eyes flicked from Amore to Andean. “I don’t understand, Father. Why aren’t we?”

Andean set a tearful Stella down on the tabletop. He stood to his feet, only becoming more imposing. “Because I seek out a way to raise the sun should all the alicorns fall. Celestia does not wish to share the power. Or the responsibility.”

Flurry blinked at the king. There were other ways to raise the sun? She knew that it used to be raised by a team of unicorns, but for other creatures to do it… She didn’t know whether to be excited or scared of the thought.

Scared, she decided. She still remembered the dreams of the horrible monsters that wanted to steal the sun from Celestia. How just after the assassination attempt, every night was plagued from dusk to dawn with bugbears and bêtes noire. How even now she had reason to believe that Merry Mare was one of them.

Her eyes opened wide, and she looked on King Andean Ursagryph in a new light. “That’s what your dreams are about, aren’t they?”

Andean shook his head, most likely out of bewilderment. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your dreams. The ones that leave you screaming. The ones that make you feel sad and angry and hopeless all at the same time.” Flurry Heart brushed at her eyes. Her foreleg came away damp. “I have those, too. I kn—I know they’re real.”

Andean furrowed his brow. He gazed upon Corona, his voice severe. “You knew about the dreams?”

“I don’t know what’s in them, Father,” she whispered. “Only that they hurt you.”

He clicked his beak sharply. “And you told these ponies?”

“She only wants to help you!” Flurry scurried in front of Corona, who stepped back with her wings spread. “We’re her friends, and we wanna help, too! We can tell Princess Celestia about our dreams. Maybe she’ll—”

“We have already had the discussion.” Andean stomped a hind paw; the resulting sound was soft yet firm. “She has refused compromise, young princess. Trust me that it was the expected outcome from the High Princess of Equestria.”

Twilight Amore rose into the air to bring herself to his height. “But that doesn’t mean you all have to go! You guys argued, but that doesn’t mean we all have to stop being friends, does it?”

Andean matched her eye for eye. “It is an argument five-hundred years old. Neither side can or will give way.”

“Ka, Sheesha…” Stella’s eyes dribbled freely. Her head feathers fluffed out and back in even as her wings continued to shiver. “Ka kroota chakaa…”

Andean hunched his wings and faced the entryway. “Corona, take Stella and pack your things. We leave before the night is done.”

Corona gently raised Stella onto her back. She walked solemnly to the staircase, not sparing her father another look. Flurry and Silver fell into step beside her, while Amore hovered overhead.

Corona frowned. “What are you doing?”

“We’re helping you pack.” Flurry nearly tripped on her oversized wings as she ascended the stairs. “I guess so we can spend a little more time with you.”

Stella wept quietly into Corona’s head feathers. “I don’t wanna go.”

Silver Lance’s short legs pumped to keep up. He sniffled and let his head hang low. “Your dad doesn’t wanna go, either. But he thinks he has to.” He hesitated, his breath checkered with nerves. “H-he needs you now more than ever.”

“But what am I supposed to do?” Corona flapped an irate wing and narrowly missed Flurry’s head. “He didn’t even want to talk about his dreams!”

She blinked rapidly, and Flurry supposed she was hiding tears. “I’m just a kid. I can’t do anything.”

Twilight Amore landed in front of her and walked backwards up the stairs. “How old are you again?”

Corona lidded her eyes. She snorted. “Sixteen. What about it?”

“That’s how old Aunt Twilight was when she fought Nightmare Moon.” Twilight Amore shrugged. “She and her friends did okay. Pinkie was still only fifteen. But they beat an alicorn with only their wits and fashion sense.”

She retuned to the air and circled overhead. “It’s not about age. It’s about being willing to help. Give him a little time. Give yourself a little credit.”

Flurry reached out a wing to gently touch Corona and Stella on the shoulder. “We’ll help, too. However we can.”

***

Twilight Velvet stepped off the small airskiff and onto the front steps of the Ponyville Castle. Just a small stop to get a few things, and she could head to Canterlot. The royal guard skiff took off without her, their own mission taking them elsewhere. Skyhook muttered back and forth with Coldstone and Snowcap, but perked his ears up when he saw her approach. “Lady Velvet. Welcome back.”

“Not that great a welcome,” she said, fighting to keep her voice under control. “I’m here to pick up the kids. The mission went wrong.”

Skyhook shared a glance with his two subordinates. “Is Ahuizotl on his way?”

“Worse.” Velvet scowled. “He’s headed for Felaccia.”

“Interesting coincidence…” Skyhook motioned for Coldstone to open the front doors. He motioned Velvet inside, then followed after her. “King Ursagryph just showed up. None of us knows what he wants, but—”

They nearly ran into the king himself. His daughters followed him through the hall, their heads low and their wings drooping. Andean bowed at the neck and placed a talon over his heart. “Lady Velvet. I am afraid my daughters and I must take our leave. Please give Princess Sparkle my best wishes.”

Twilight Velvet jerked her head back. “Leave? But summer’s just started—”

“If you wish to know more, please speak with High Princess Celestia.” He barely left them room to stand when he walked past them. “Farewell.”

Twilight Velvet narrowed her eyes. “Just to let you know, our intelligence says Ahuizotl is headed to your country. I’d be careful if I were you.”

Andean paused. His voice was low, lacking energy. “For that, too, you should speak with Celestia.”

He left, and the heavy doors closed behind him.

“Is something wrong, Lady Velvet?” Skyhook flicked his ears down. “You seem upset.”

“Upset?” She spun on him and gritted her teeth. “Commander, I literally just lost my best friend and my youngest son is in the hospital! Yes sir, I am very upset!”

She pressed a hoof against his chest, and the force of it caused him to bump into the wall. “Now I just need to collect my grandkids and take them to Canterlot, so we can get this Creator-forsaken day over with!”

They made it to the throne room, and all three kids were already waiting. Flurry Heart spoke first. “We heard you shouting.”

“Yes, kids.” Velvet rubbed her right temple. “I-I’m sorry, I—”

“Spike’s hurt?” Silver Lance sounded small, far more delicate than she was used to from the sturdy colt.

“He’s going to be fine.” Her voice sounded way too harsh even to her own ears. “I mean it. We’re all going to see him. Grab something to pack up and we can take the evening train.”

Twilight Amore looked to be on the verge of tears. “Is Aunt Yearling hurt?”

“Hurry, please.” Twilight Velvet shook her head and turned away, staring firmly at the throne her daughter held. “We have to go.”

The kids ran to the stairs, took a right, and used the elevator to ride up to the playroom. Velvet slowly lowered her forehead to the table and breathed a deep sigh.

“Ma’am.” Skyhook retrieved a sheet of paper from beneath his breastplate. “You wanted to know what I found out about Merry?”

Twilight Velvet moaned. She pushed herself upright and grasped the page in a bubble of magic. “What did you find out?”

“It’s what I didn’t find that worries me.” Skyhook stood at attention. “Records exist of her having a husband, but his name and likeness have been scrubbed from the files. All the files. All I’ve been able to pick up from the townsfolk is that his name was Poni. Nobody knew of any family names or otherwise.”

“There’s as many Poni’s as there are Belle’s.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Skyhook worried his lower lip with a sharp fang. “Merry and Poni had a child together, Happy, who died of drowning at the age of eight.”

Twilight Velvet winced, a twinge in her heart going out to the mare. “Well, it might explain the anger—”

“This was twenty years ago.”

Velvet frowned at the page. What would keep fueling the anger for twenty years? It wasn’t unheard of, even understandable, but Skyhook wouldn’t bother explaining it if it weren’t relevant. “And?”

“Shortly after the child’s death…” Skyhook swallowed hard. “The mare who was babysitting Happy at the time, Amber Waves, was found in the Everfree. Poisoned. It was ruled a suicide.”

Velvet raised her eyebrow. Coincidence? Doubtful. “But?”

“But shortly after that, Poni and Merry separated.” Skyhook tapped the top edge of the page with a leathery wing. “Take a look at Amber Waves’ living relations. It took quite a bit of digging to find the right papers, but…”

Velvet looked to the bottom of the page. Amber Waves—Daughter: Ember Waves, student in Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. Husband: Kiln Stovepipe, known associate of Dr. Poni Caballeron.

She pressed the paper against his breastplate and headed for the exit. “Keep this quiet. After we get back, I’m going to have a very interesting tea with Mrs. Mare.”

He snatched the page before it could flop to the floor. “You think she’ll talk?”

“If she can give us something—anything—on Caballeron or Ahuizotl—” Velvet marched with her head low. “–then that’s exactly what I’m going to get.”

“You haven’t seen the other side of the paper.” Skyhook hurried after her and held the page in front of her face. “Her friend Scuttlebutt—”

“Huh?” The page glowed once more as she took it from him. “What about him? I know I’ve heard the name before.”

“He showed up about a year and a half ago.” Skyhook spread his wings and lifted a few inches above the ground to keep up with her steady strides. “Right around the same time as another Scuttlebutt, Viscount Hammer Dulcimer’s assistant, went missing.”

Velvet pulled a sour face. “Nobody thought to investigate that?”

“We did, but the two Scuttlebutts are two completely different ponies. Different height, build, voice, mane…” He rolled a hoof. “But if Silver Lance’s hunch is correct, and he’s not a pony…”

“What’s my grandson know about it?”

“That his magic is completely wrong.” Skyhook grimaced, like he’d eaten something expired. “Honestly, after spending the last year in Ponyville, I’m inclined to believe him. Scuttlebutt’s a creepy dude.”

Twilight Velvet scratched the back of her head. “What kinda dummy uses the same alias for two different disguises?”

“It takes all kinds, ma’am.”

“Touché.” She tucked the page into the top of his breastplate. “Like I said, keep this quiet. I only trust about five people with the details of this investigation. When the time comes, we’ll question Merry, Scuttlebutt, and Kiln.” She flicked an ear towards the door. “I think we’ll get some pretty interesting answers out of all of them.”

***

Apple Bloom stared at Spike, who lay silent on the gurney. They hadn’t transferred him to a room yet—they were still trying to decide on whether they could do anything for him. They’d applied ambrosia to his wounds via sponges. There was no way to give him any sort of IV drip, so Apple Bloom had helped make him swallow some sugar water.

The ambrosia wasn’t working. The flesh and scales refused to respond to it. The wounds were too big to clot, so the bandages had to be changed regularly. Apple Bloom had seen his shoulder while they were doing it; Ahuizotl’s sword had charred the bone.

A flash of purple shocked her out of her silence. She nearly leapt out of her chair when Twilight Sparkle materialized in the room. The Princess of Friendship skittered across the polished floor to the side of the bed. She examined every inch of Spike’s body, and Apple Bloom could hear every frantic, shallow breath she breathed.

“Princess Twilight—!” A passing nurse drew aside the emergency room curtain. “You shouldn’t just teleport into the hospital! You could—”

Twilight Sparkle ignored every last word he said, instead dropping her overflowing saddlebags on his back. “Here, this is everything I have on dragon health! W-we should make a paste of crushed gemstones in sugar water. Give him an amethyst to suck on. Spike, could you send—” Her face fell, her ears drooping. She recovered as quickly as the hiccup occurred. “I-I mean I need a way to send a message to Dragon Lord Ember. And—and get me a doctor. Somebody with experience treating species besides ponies.”

The nurse looked at the bags on his back. “I think there’s somebody in Manehattan, but—”

“You’re telling me that in Canterlot Hospital, the most prestigious hospital in the entirety of Equestria—” Twilight Sparkle’s voice rose with each word. “—there is not a single capable doctor in the whole building?”

“Of course they’re capa—!”

“Apple Bloom took Spike here because she knew—knew!—that he could get help here!” Twilight Sparkle’s wing shot out to indicate her, and nearly clocked Apple Bloom on the nose. “If you can’t help, then get me somebody who can!”

The nurse let out a huff and trotted away, leaving the three of them alone.

A tiny whisper came from Spike’s lips. “Twilight…”

Twilight Sparkle spun around and was at his side in an instant. “Spike! You’re awake!”

“Twilight, please…” Spike’s eyes fluttered. He moved his head with a groan. “Please…”

“Please what?” Twilight reached out to touch his claw. “What do you need?”

“Stop…” Spike cracked the tiniest of grins. “Shouting…”

Twilight Sparkle blinked rapidly. She lay her head on his chest, her voice cracking. “Spike, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry.” Spike sighed, easing his less-bandaged arm over to her. He rubbed her mane with his claws. “I bit off more than I could chew. Again.”

Apple Bloom moseyed over to his side to nuzzle his cheek. “There weren’t no way you could know Ahuizotl was capable of that.”

“No.” Spike wrinkled his forehead. “But I still went off alone.”

His claw fell to his chest. He met Twilight’s damp eyes. “You still wanna send that message to Ember?”

She nodded, and quickly scribbled a message on the hospital’s notepad. Spike took a breath, held it for a moment, and then gently breathed the letter away. The smoke spiraled out the window, headed for the Cauldron and the dragons therein. He let his head rest against the pillow. “Whoa. Dizzy.”

“Just rest, Spike.” Twilight spread a wing to brush at his cheek. “Everything’s gonna turn out just fine.”

“Yeah, I know.” Spike sighed and closed his eyes. “They’re gonna heal me, and I’m gonna go back out there. And Ahuizotl won’t know… what hit him…”

Soft snoring came from the young dragon. Apple Bloom returned to her seat, but Twilight remained where she was, pressed against Spike’s warm chest.

Apple Bloom didn’t know what to think, really. She’d never seen Spike like this. Emotionally vulnerable, sure, but physically? It almost didn’t compute.

“Knock, knock.” A blue face appeared from behind the privacy curtain, then tilted up in surprise. “Oh. Twi, sweet pea, I didn’t know you were already here.”

Twilight raised her head. The breath caught in her throat. “Dad?”

She rushed up to wrap her forelegs and wings around him. Night Light hugged his daughter close, but looked to his adoptive son beyond. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“None of the treatments are workin’, sir.” Apple Bloom’s bow bobbed as she shook her head. “They just sent a message to the dragons, but we don’t know when they’ll get back to us.”

Night Light clicked his tongue. He pulled away from Twilight to put a foreleg on the bed, beside Spike’s arm. “Oh, Creator. Please help Spike.”

Apple Bloom got to her feet, towering over Night Light. He glanced at her, a spark of recognition entering his eyes. “You must be Apple Bloom. I’m Night Light, Spike’s dad. You probably guessed that part.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Apple Bloom bumped hooves with him. “Ah, since they only allow two visitors, I could head for the waitin’ room and let the two of you visit.”

Twilight Sparkle leaned against her dad’s side. “Thank you, Apple Bloom. We’ll let you know when you can come back.”

“Thanks.” Apple Bloom took the short walk past nurses and doctors to the waiting room. Offensively-boring wallpaper greeted her, alongside an ancient coffee maker and uncomfortable couches.

Care Carrot jumped up from one. “Any news?”

“Twilight just showed up.” Apple Bloom waved a hoof vaguely in their direction. “They sent a message to the dragons. Other than that, nada.”

Blankety Blank, his face wearing the white-coated disguise of a pony, curled in on himself as Care took the seat beside him. Apple Bloom sat across from them after grabbing a weak coffee. Blank cleared his throat with a cough. “How long until the funeral?”

Apple Bloom lowered the coffee. She poured three sugar packets in and emptied a creamer single pack. “Whose?”

Blankety’s mouth cracked open, and his voice cracked to match. “Daring is gone.”

Apple Bloom’s cheeks burned. She lowered her gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry.”

“They’re holding it later tonight,” Care said quietly. “Just her family and closest friends.”

Blank’s ears flattened against his head. “She doesn’t have family. They’re all gone, too.”

“No, she does.” Care rubbed between his shoulders. “Twilight Velvet and her family. They took Daring under their wings like a sister. You and I’ll be there. Martial, too.”

Apple Bloom’s ears shot up. “D-did anybody tell Dinky?”

“Yeah. Notified her about an hour ago.” Care blew a long, slow breath through pressed lips. “She’s bringing her mom and boyfriend on the next train.”

Blankety Blank gritted his teeth until his jaw trembled. “A-and then we’re going aft-t-ter Ahuizotl again?”

“Until we catch him,” Care said. “Until we stop him.”

***

Martial Paw looked out over the small assembly that had gathered in the Canter Mountain Cemetery. Magilights shined, casting their glow over the footpaths that weaved between the pyres, tombs, and gravestones that dotted the outskirts of Canterlot. He carried a torch in his hand, which held enough light to see the faces of the other mourners.

Twilight Velvet leaned against Twilight and Night Light. The three wore black shawls, simple but effective. The children of Shining Armor and Mi Amore Cadenza huddled between their legs. Their parents stood in the back, their expressions unseen by Martial. A magic mirror displayed the face of Spike the Dragon, who watched from his place in the hospital’s emergency room. Apple Bloom sat beside him, allowing him to lean on her shoulder.

To the left, Dinky Do and her mother Derpy could be seen. A young stallion held Dinky’s hoof; Martial had met him a few times, during visits to Ponyville. Pipsqueak, a member of the fire brigade and a potato farmer. Dinky’s fiancé. Martial and Pipsqueak exchanged a nod of greeting.

In the center, there stood Care Carrot in her dress uniform. Beside her was Blankety Blank, freely wearing his true form as a changeling. He wore a dress uniform as well, the front bedecked with countless medals from secretive missions.

Then, beside Martial Paw, there was the pyre.

Daring Do lay upon it, her eyes closed. She was clothed in her usual attire of a button-up shirt, her favorite pith helmet, and a pocket watch clasped around her neck. Martial’s talon reflexively went to the bag slung over his shoulder. Her watch, the one holding the picture of her and Time, was sitting safely within. Something had overcome him, telling him to switch the two. Perhaps it was dishonest of him, but at the moment, he didn’t really care.

Her coat was a dim gray, the color having drained from it the moment the life went out of her eyes. The magic that had been bursting out of her body her entire existence had been shunted off to the hereafter. The spirit, the soul, the love…

Princess Celestia stood behind the pyre, her face a cloudy, drizzly sky. No sunlight shone from the princess. No quietly remembered happy moments. No soft satisfaction at a life well-lived. Just a bleak sense of moroseness. “You all knew Daring was… not one for long goodbyes. She valued her privacy. Quiet seclusion. But—”

She turned her gaze to the mourners. She nodded to each in turn. “She liked that. But she loved her family. She loved every last one of your with all her heart.”

She bit her lip, searching for words. Martial felt a lump grow in his throat. Princess Celestia; speechless. It was unlike anything he’d seen from the almighty princess. And yet, it suited her, that she would be overcome with love for this one friend.

Celestia bowed her head. “This pyre holds a pegasus soldier; a brave soul who fell defending her princess and her country.” Her throat bobbed. “And her friends.”

She looked up to the stars, which were sparkling at their full shine, even above the light of the torch. “She will be respected by her fellows, and followed in her wing beats. May she forever fly, until the day she returns.”

The princess gave Martial a solemn nod. He tossed the torch onto the pyre. The fire grew fast, touching every part of Daring Do’s body. It obscured her in flames as she was transformed into ash.

Celestia took in a shuddering breath. “Daughter of the sky, return to the wind you were born into. Fly free and remind us how much we need each other.”

The heat from the fire burned Martial’s face, but he refused to back away. A deep, dark anger wallowed in the pit of his stomach. He’d felt it once before; such a potent rage that he nearly felt himself transformed into another being. He stared at Daring as she burned away, his eyes stinging.

Ahuizotl would pay. Dearly. He would know why it was he had to die. He would know which griffon was coming to kill him. He would know that there was nothing that could save him, not in all the world or the worlds beyond.

Martial choked as tears poured from his eyes. Tears of despair, anger, hopelessness. He couldn’t say goodbye, not until his dearest friend’s killer was brought to ruin. He clutched Daring Do’s pocket watch tight, hidden as it was by his bag.

A hoof touched his shoulder. He looked up, every muscle crying out to swat the offender aside. He reeled himself in when he saw it was Blankety. The changeling looked at the burning pyre and said nothing, but stood quietly while the others gradually moved away from the site.

Martial opened his mouth, but stopped himself. Blankety was a changeling. He could taste the emotions in the air, no matter how hidden. He knew what Martial was feeling. Perhaps even what he was thinking. It seemed no amount of dishonesty would sway him.

Once they were the only two at the pyre, after the fire had begun to die down, Blankety Blank at last spoke. “It’s okay.”

Martial turned his head to look the little changeling in the eye. Blank’s voice was as hot as the fire itself.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I feel that way, too.”

He gestured with a wing at the bag. More specifically, at the pocket watch within. “You should hold onto that. You’ve earned that much.”

With that, he walked away and left Martial to watch the last few ashes fly free.

***

Cadence made a beeline for their suite. Even this long out and about had taken a toll on her. She couldn’t think straight. She didn’t want to see anybody. To speak to anybody. To be with anybody. She couldn’t let her kids see her like this. What would they think of her? What would Night Light, or Velvet, or Twilight Sparkle think of her? No. She just needed some peace.

Some phony semblance of peace, in any case.

She rounded the corner and saw the doorway. Her sanctuary. Just beyond, though, she saw something she wanted to see the least of all.

Shining Armor quickly dried his eyes at the sight of her. “Cadence… We need to—”

“I can’t talk right now.” She was at least able to choke out that much. She opened the door with a wing, slid herself inside, and locked it behind her.

It would have been a simple thing for Shining to unlock it. To insist on a conversation. To repeat himself until she relented. He did none of those things. He sat at the door for a moment, shook his head, and walked away.

She almost wanted him to force his way in. Almost. She was in too much pain to be reasoned with. Perhaps he was, too. She almost wanted to open the door and shout for him to come back. Almost.

They needed each other, she knew. More now than ever. Her mind told her as much.

Her heart, though… that couldn’t take it.

She rebuilt her pillow fort, closed her eyes, and willed sleep to come.

It didn’t.

The Heart Laid Bare

Stonewall looked out from the prow of the scout ship and folded her wings across her back. The flyder flagship had flown all the way to the ocean. The winds picked up this close to the sea, threatening to knock the scout ship off course. “Bring us down.”

The ship descended to the beach, alongside the other ships in pursuit of Ahuizotl. She disembarked, her armored boots chuffing in the sand. The hum of the flyder was swallowed by the crashing of the waves.

“Centurion!” A soldier trotted forth, a sheet of paper held in his telekinesis. “Message from Canterlot. Shining Armor is going to be unable to help us.”

“Cuss.” Stonewall kicked a seashell into the drink. The cold of night encroached on her skin, even through her armor. “How’s the navy? How many ships do we have ready to sail?”

“Five at the moment, ma’am. Others are gearing up.” The unicorn folded the page over to highlight a line. “The High Princess only gave us permission to pursue to the edge of Felaccian waters.”

“Wha—?” Stonewall snatched the paper. “What about King Ursagryph? Aren’t the Blitzwings helping us?”

The soldier shook his head. “I don’t know, ma’am.”

“We’ll do what we’re told.” Stonewall looked out to the dark sea, her brow furrowed. “Radio ahead and get the Buttercup’s Folly ready to set sail. I get the feeling we’re gonna need the Royal Flagship desperately.”

Stonewall sighed and hopped back onboard the airship. They set out for Manehattan and the harbor. “It’s gonna be a long night.”

***

Caballeron tugged at a section of the wall, sliding it to the side. Transparent amber material shielded them from the world outside, while revealing the darkness and endless ocean that surrounded them. He stared into the emptiness, while Sweetie Belle huddled beside Button.

She adjusted her frameless glasses, looking away from the doctor. He’d been stewing for a good few moments. She almost thought to say something, thought better of it, but said it anyway. “I’m sorry.”

Caballeron snapped his head around, looking at her with utter disbelief evident on his face. “You’re what?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “No parent should have to lose their child.”

Caballeron’s face softened, ever so slightly. He turned back to the outdoors, his eyelids low. “What’s happened has already happened, and it couldn’t have happened any other way.”

Sweetie Belle glanced at Button, who kept his gaze on the doctor. She offered Caballeron a shrug. “It’s still not right.”

“It rains,” Caballeron said, “on the just and the unjust.”

He shook his head lightly. Wind from the sea battered at the side of the Hesperus Mactans, causing the three of them to sway. Caballeron tapped his hoof against the window, and sang quietly.

“I see the vision every time I close my eyes
I feel it in my waking breath
I hear the strangled pain within his mother’s cries
The night of Happy’s death

“I pulled the child from the river by myself
This bundle of damp fur and skin
Three days before he was the paragon of health
Yet never to have been”

“The sun has set
The skies bleed red
And we are both alone
When all is said
We’re both half-dead
We changed the world and lost what made it home”

Caballeron leaned heavily against the wall, attempting to hide his face. Sweetie could see it, though. Plain as day.

“I saw her anger,” he said. “I saw her pain. But I was powerless to stop what happened next.”

“Our world was broken
The body no longer my boy

“I left the village with my best friend at my side
My wife had lost her very soul
She fought to bring him back, to see his death defied
To make her child whole

“The sun has set
The skies bleed red
And we are both alone
When all is said
We’re both half-dead
I couldn’t bear to tell her
There was no hope”

He turned to Button, his face stony, his anguish at the memory silence for the moment.

“There’s one idea that must be made known
We changed the world and lost what made it home”

Button sat up, propping himself against the bulkhead. He took a turn staring at the bleak eternity of the ocean. “You didn’t change the world. He fell into the river. It was a freak accident.”

“We brought him into the world.” Caballeron winced and held his bandage. “After he was gone, we parted ways. That was the change we wrought. I became a criminal, fighting for money to satisfy whatever earthly desires I still possessed. But it wasn’t enough. She’s spent her entire life pursuing the cure for death, and everything else has suffered for it. It’ll never be enough.”

“But you didn’t act. You didn’t do anything.” Button Mash turned to Caballeron, his hoof raised. “You ran from your troubles. You left.”

Caballeron socked Button in the jaw. “You dare?” He grasped Button by the shoulders and hauled him to his hocks. He pressed Button against the window, his nostrils flaring. “You think you can come to me and tell me right from wrong, boy?”

“I’ve been fighting since the day you attacked!” Button gripped Caballeron’s collar and tried—and failed—to push the older stallion back. “I’ve been doing whatever I could to help Sweetie and Scoots! I’ve fought Ahuizotl’s frickin’ army! You didn’t act! You just kept letting things happen to you!”

“That’s enough!” Sweetie’s voice rang loud and clear, surprising even herself. Caballeron let go of Button instantly, even going so far as to scramble back. He stared at her with wide eyes, his breath shallow. She glared at him, all bluster. “You leave each other alone. Do you hear me?”

Caballeron’s hoof went over his heart. “You… truly are a convincing mare, you know that?”

Button rubbed his sore shoulder. “What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t you—?” Caballeron growled. “No, of course you didn’t feel that.”

Sweetie felt her blood run cold. “Feel what?”

“The song.” Caballeron turned his eyes down. “The reason Ahuizotl wants you. The mind control. The natural siren’s song.”

“I-it’s not mind control.” Sweetie Belle felt the cold turn into a boiling, rushing torrent, starting in her cheeks and running all the way to the tips of her ears. She looked away from Button’s expression. He stared at her wide-eyed, his jaw gaping, his ears flat to the sides. “It’s not. I could never.”

Button drew closer to her, his head low enough to reach her eye-level. “Th-then what is it?”

“It unites hearts,” Caballeron said. “It sways hearts. To whatever whim she so desires. Isn’t that right, Miss Belle? Your special talent. The very mark on your side.”

Button Mash’s forehead wrinkled. “That’s how Ahuizotl gets all the hearts to work together?”

“I-I don’t change how p-people think, I swear.” Sweetie stood up and paced, her tail shivering behind her. “I just… I can just help people unite. That’s all it is—”

Caballeron cracked a sinister grin. “Is it, though?”

“Oh, shut your yap!” Button waved a hoof at Sweetie, narrowing his eyes at Caballeron. “If you’re trying to insinuate Sweetie would do something horrible, you can stop now. You’ll never convince me. If you’re just trying to stir up trouble, then save your breath. If you’re just being pessimistic for the sake of it…” Button’s mouth scrunched to the side as he searched for a word. “Then screw you, I guess.”

Sweetie walked to one end of the room, her back to the two of them. Was that all it was? She wasn’t sure. She seemed to sway Caballeron awfully easily. Even Ahuizotl had given her pause, though little else. Could she even control it if she wanted to? All she wanted was to unite hearts with song. To help them experience life on a higher level.

But this power… seemed to be something else.

“If it’s a natural siren’s song,” Button said, choosing his words carefully, “then why didn’t it work on me?”

Sweetie looked over her shoulder. It was a fine question. She hadn’t watched Button much while she sang—no good getting distracted—but what little she saw, he seemed at least aware of his surroundings. While everybody else was taken up in the song, his eyes were keenly on…

On her.

She felt the blush intensify, stronger than ever. She met his eyes for as long as she dared. “I don’t know.”

“Ah, you’re a smart girl,” Caballeron said. “You’ll figure it out.”

Button gave him a frown. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that it’s late, I’ve almost died, and I’m tired.” Caballeron curled up on a cot on the opposite end of the room. He situated himself so that he wouldn’t lie on the bandage while he slept. “If you’re both smart, you’ll get some sleep, too. Build up your strength. Who knows what nonsense awaits us tomorrow?”

He was snoring in moments, leaving them alone for all intents and purposes.

Button Mash gripped his head in his forehooves. “Ooh gosh. He’s not wrong.”

“W-well come here.” Sweetie took one of his elbows and gently tugged him towards the cot. “Get some rest.”

Button started to comply, but paused. “There’s only two cots. You should have it.”

“Like heck I should.” Sweetie tugged more insistently. “I’m not the one who got thrown against a wall.”

“Yeah, but—” Button sighed, pointing a hoof at the small metal cot. “You know. You’ve been through stuff, too.”

“I can use the floor just fine.” Sweetie Belle placed a hoof on his chest, careful to avoid the scar, and pushed him back. His hind legs bumped the side of the awful excuse for a bed. “It’s not like it’s that much better than the floor in the first place. It’s still hard metal.”

His rump hit the cot. He sat with his forelegs dangling, his head low. “Yeah, but it’s, like, raised. Ponies don’t walk on it.”

“Button Mash, I have not had a bath in four days.” Sweetie Belle fluffed her tail, but it just sort of wobbled in midair, rather than bounce with a curly spring. “I don’t think the floor is gonna hurt much.”

Button opened his mouth, but said nothing. He lay down on his side, heaving a deep breath. “You win. Doesn’t feel quite right, though.”

“Why?” Sweetie lay down and curled up a short distance from Button. “Because I’m a girl?”

“Not just that.” Button’s lips tilted to the side. “You deserve better.”

Sweetie snorted. “Civility trumps chivalry, and the bed is a lot easier to get up from than the floor.”

Button’s eyes left hers, but he brought them back an instant later. “Not just chivalry. You’re an awesome person, and you’ve been through a lot. I wanted to make things a little easier.”

After a moment’s silence, he continued with a frown. “But I don’t think I can actually get up anymore.”

Sweetie raised herself up and looked over his bruised body. “Your muscles hurt that bad?”

“Yeah, but—” Button laughed quietly until it turned to a wheezing cough. “—but you should see the other guy.”

Sweetie raised an eyebrow. “The other guy was Ahuizotl.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Button coughed again, his smile bright despite. “I hit him so hard he turned ugly.”

Sweetie covered up a laugh too slowly, and the second snort of the night hit. It was answered with a billowing snore from Caballeron, who turned over muttering about stupid kids.

Sweetie found a spot on Button’s side that wasn’t blotched with black and blue. She reached a hoof to it and massaged the sore muscles beneath. Button twitched away, but found it in himself to relax a little. His ears twitched, and he looked as though he wanted to say something, but remained unable to.

She spoke for the both of them. “I’m glad to see you again.”

The corner of his mouth turned upward. “I-I am, too. Plaid to see—glad to see you. Really glad. I’m glad you’re okay.”

His eyes widened. “Hay, uh, we saved Scootaloo. She’s back to normal again. I don’t know if you—”

“She is?” Sweetie covered her mouth, then lunged forward to wrap her forelegs around his neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“A—ah—uh—” His blathering died down, replaced with slightly-more-understandable stuttering. “Y-yeah. Rumble and I g-got her heart, and Apple Bloom found the body, and she was super-glad to-to see us and-and…” He reached around her to gently, hesitantly complete the hug. “It’s all good.”

Sweetie felt tears burn in her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but they trickled down her cheeks to dampen his shoulder. “I was so worried. I had no idea if she was okay, or hurt, or g—” She sniffled, suddenly very self-conscious about what she was doing. “It’s all good?”

“Yeah,” Button said, releasing her and allowing her to back away. “It’s very good.”

Sweetie smiled. She wiped her eyes and sat beside the cot. “I can’t tell you how much better I feel. I don’t know what I’d do if…” Cold fear gripped at the edges of her heart, but was soon banished with the warmth from beautiful memories of days gone by. “She’s my oldest friend. We’ve always been together.”

Button Mash bobbed his head, since nodding seemed to hurt too much. “She never stopped fighting for you. Even as a heart, she was blazing bright.”

“That’s Scootaloo.” Sweetie brushed her mane over her shoulder. She lit her horn and closed the window, blocking out the encroaching darkness. “She sets the standard.”

They sat in silence for a while. Sweetie shook her head as relief flooded through her body. With Scootaloo safe, a huge portion of her stress had vanished in an instant. Sure, she was still the captive of an immortal god-otter, but that seemed to pale in comparison to the freedom of her friend. It may have been the only victory they’d seen in the past few days, but what a victory it was! To know that Scootaloo was free to laugh, to fly, to enjoy what life had to offer…

It left her and Button Mash, fighting for their lives.

Reality came back, like a smothering blanket over her soul. The darkness surrounding the flagship was not stopped by the window shutters, because it was not a physical thing. It was an inexorable dread creeping ever onward. Ahuizotl was only meters away, and the very pony who had kidnapped her was sleeping in the very same room as her.

“Hay.” Button Mash’s voice broke through the darkness, waving it aside like smoke. “What’re you gonna do when we finally get freed?”

Sweetie turned to him. He looked at her with those intense eyes, studying her, searching her for something. Perhaps just searching for a way to cheer her up. “What do you mean? Short term or long term?”

“Whatever.” Button Mash shrugged. “Got any long-ranging dreams? Life-goals? Just a food you’re really looking forward to eating again?”

She giggled softly. “Pumping me for information, huh?”

“As subtly as possible.” He threw her a haphazard grin, sincere yet muddled by stress.

“Well, in that case…” Sweetie rested her back against the edge of the cot. She sat midway down the length, so his face was still easily in view. “The first thing I’m gonna do is take a long, hot bath. Maybe a shower, too, for good measure.”

“Same.”

“I’m gonna eat a home-tossed salad, with hard-boiled eggs, tons of cheese, and the worst kind of fatty dressing.” She rested her cheek on her shoulder, looking at him over the top of her glasses. His face was fuzzy, but no less jovial for the nearsightedness. “I’m gonna bury myself in clean linins and hibernate for at least a week.”

“I wouldn’t dare begrudge you a single ounce of that.”

She grinned, turning to her own hooves. She nudged the glasses further up her nose before they could slip off. “Then I think I’ll work on a new song. Or maybe put together a new dress. Maybe both at the same time.” She stared into the middle distance, Rarity’s chaotic Inspiration Room appearing in her thoughts. “I should probably replace the doors first. Maybe with something metal. And a moat.”

An ache arrived to her heart, unbidden by memory or future plans. It took her a moment to pinpoint its source. “I want… to sing again. For real. For a crowd I’m not trying to control, or brainwash, or whatever Ahuizotl is trying to use me for.”

Button’s hoof touched her shoulder. Her first instinct was to turn to face him, but she pushed the urge away. She didn’t want to know what he was thinking, or even see the evidence of it. She just felt the shame of what she’d been doing under the mad god. “I—I’ve only ever wanted to sing to people. Ever since that first audition… I’ve felt it. I’ve united hearts. Not controlled them, not forced anything on them. It’s not just that, either.”

She gazed at the plain metal bulkhead facing her on the opposite side of the room. Its blankness helped her clear her thoughts, even if it was ever-so-little. “When I sing, I feel a connection with the crowd, too. Like we’re all feeling the same thing. Enjoying the same moment. For just that little bit of time, it feels like a hundred other voices are singing with me.”

She let her ears droop and her shoulders hunch. “I just want to feel that again.”

Button’s voice warbled. “You will.”

She pointed an ear in his direction, even as she looked to him out of the corner of her eye. It was his turn for damp cheeks and a tight throat. He looked away when he saw her attention was on him. He dropped his hoof from her shoulder. “I-I promise.”

Sweetie swallowed the lump in her throat. She sighed through her nose, tapping a hoof against the floor. “So… what’s your big dream?”

Button blushed, like hot iron buried in coals. He glanced at the ceiling and, finding nothing of interest there, let his ears droop. “W-well…”

“Puppet shows across Equestria?” Sweetie smiled at him, hoping that he wouldn’t feel as shy if he thought she was joking around. “Getting the high score in Pac-Mule? Designing your own video game?”

“N-nothing so grand.” Button Mash gave her an uneasy grin. “It’s hard to really… Eh.”

That piqued her interest. What would have him falling over himself, unable to speak it? Was it something to do with her? That might explain his discomfort, but—

Maybe she should just let him say it, without trying to psychoanalyze him. That was at least more polite.

“I’ve only ever…” Button scratched his head, but winced when he ran over a bruise. “Ow.”

“You don’t have to tell me if it—”

“It’s fine,” he said. “Just hard to get into words.”

He licked dry lips, and something came over him. His face became slightly more sure. His posture straightened, as much as it could while he was lying down. “I want a family.”

Both of Sweetie’s eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Button framed an imaginary scene in front of him with his forelegs. “Like… I’ve always wanted a family life. A wife. Kids. I wanna be a good dad. And everything I do is to bring me closer to that. Getting jobs, buying a house, ask—uh—all my schooling. I need all that stuff to get what I really want.”

He waved at the cutie mark on his side; a cross-shaped mark with directional triangles at the extremities. “My cutie mark is a puppeteer’s control cross. But it’s also a game-controller directional pad. It’s who I want to be. I wanna be able to give direction to people who need it. I wanna be supportive behind the scenes. I want people to be able to rely on me.”

He lay his head on the bare metal of the cot. “I don’t know how well I’m doing with that.”

Sweetie Belle fidgeted with her tail. She raised one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “You seemed pretty darn reliable today.”

“If you say so—” He laughed in the back of his throat. “—I’ll believe it.”

“I do say so.”

“Okay then.” That tired, weary, blushing, jocular grin wiggled its way across his face again. “There’s one good thing that came out of all this.”

Sweetie pursed her lips. “What’s that?”

“Our second date happened a lot sooner than we thought it would.”

Sweetie chuckled. Then giggled. She covered her mouth to stop the sputtering. “So that’s why you charged in on a flying machine, lasers blazing.” She leaned closer to him, shaking her head. “Button, there are easier ways to ask me out.”

He inched himself around on the cot, jockeying for a more comfortable position but finding none. “You weren’t answering my letters.”

“You must have had the wrong address.” She lay down beside the cot. He craned his neck so that he could still see her. “Thank you for coming for me.”

“I’d do it all over again if I had to.” He blew a faint raspberry. “Maybe this time I wouldn’t get so beat up.”

Sweetie folded her glasses and placed them beside her head. The world lost contrast, the colors all muddying together. Button’s eyes, though, those she could still see. Brown and warm and concerned. She closed her eyes and nestled her head on her forelegs. “Goodnight, Button.”

His voice was quiet. “Goodnight, Sweetie.”

***

Martial Paw paused with his talon on the door of his Canterlot Castle suite. The sound of hoofsteps headed his direction halted his movement and pained his heart. He didn’t immediately recognize the gait, but a glance in her direction brought the commanding form of Captain Carrot into view. “Captain.”

“Martial Paw.” She synched her ponytailed mane tighter as she walked, one hoof awkwardly tugging on the strap. “Can we talk a moment?”

Martial pulled the door open and waved her in. “If it’s official Knight business, I suppose I can’t turn you down. Can I get you something to drink? Cordial? Soda?”

“I’ll have a soda, sure.” Care took a chair at the kitchenette’s table, while he fished around his small fridge for drinks. He procured a root beer and a cream soda and gave her a choice between them. She popped the top off the cream soda with a flick of her hoof.

He slid a straw into the root beer and took a sip. “Is it about the mission, ma’am?”

“A little.” She sipped straight from the bottle. She leaned an elbow on the table and tilted her horn at him. “I’ll get straight to the point: You tried to strangle Kiln Stovepipe after the battle.”

“Judging by the bruises on his neck,” Martial said, his voice at a low growl, “I’d say I succeeded in strangling him.”

“Fine, but my point was after the battle.” Care tapped the glass bottle on the table. “He was a noncombatant. He was even offering assistance to Rumble, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo. Knowing that, you still attacked him.”

“And?”

Care furrowed her brow. “Whadda yah mean ‘and?’”

“It means what I said.” Martial Paw took a quick slurp and spread a talon. “It means that when I saw that slimy, kidnapping, murdering scumbag, I decided to remove his head from his body as fast as possible. I feel no remorse, and I see no reason to repent. I’ll admit I was enraged in the wake of Daring Do’s death, but that just meant I took the longer route to see that spawn of a witch dead.”

He folded his talons beneath his beak and waited for her to speak. He had to admit, it felt good to get that out. To say exactly what he thought of Kiln and the whole misbegotten crew. To touch upon the pain Daring Do’s passing had given him. To tell this pony exactly what he intended. Oh, yes. He’d kill for a little peace of mind.

Care’s face didn’t do what he imagined. He imagined horror from this pony. Perhaps some mild sputtering and platitudes regarding proper behavior regarding prisoners.

He didn’t expect her to stand on her chair and slam her hooves into the table.

“You listen here, birdbrain—” Yikes. Going right for the slurs. “—I know for a fact, a fact, that Daring Do would never have assaulted a prisoner like that. She would never take a life unless necessary. She would never have condoned that sort of behavior.” She reached a hoof across the table to bump it against his chest. “And she woulda been ashamed of you for doing so!”

Martial felt the feathers on his neck heat up. Lightning tickled at the tips of his claws. He grasped the table and tossed it aside, nearly knocking Care from her perch. She balanced on the chair with four hooves to stabilize her. “You dare to tell me what she would have thought before her ashes have even settled?”

“I don’t have to tell you,” Care said, her face firm. “You know I’m right.”

Martial narrowed his eyes. “Back in Felaccia, we have a name for the self-righteous.”

“What’s that?”

“Future rugs.”

She rolled her eyes. She dropped from the chair to pick up the fallen bottles before they had time to completely empty their contents. She held the root beer out to him, her eyebrows level. “It’s not about self-righteousness. It’s about doing the right thing.”

He glared at the bottle, a growl deep in his throat. He dragged his talons across the cold marbled floor.

“I know you wanna honor Daring,” she said quietly. “I know you fought with her. Bled with her. Protected her. And she did all that for you, too.”

She picked up the table and shoved it back into place. She set the drinks upright and sat beside them. “I know it hurts. I know you hate Ahuizotl more than anything in the world right now. But we’ve got to do it right. No attacking noncombatants. No killing prisoners.” She crossed her forelegs across her chest. “I want you on the team, Martial. Daring wanted you on it, too. We can stop Ahuizotl together.”

She finished off what was left of her cream soda. “But we have to do it right. Can you do that?”

Martial clicked his beak. “Captain Carrot, Daring Do was the last thing I had left to love in this life. The last bit of family. She was taken away from me.” He spread his wings, sitting down and coming no closer to her. “Do you know what it’s like to lose everything that made you… you?”

Care frowned, her face softening a bit. “Not too long ago, somebody I put all my worth into was hurt. I blamed myself, and hated the monster who did it. It changed who I was, until all I could think about was revenge.” She leaned back in the chair, which creaked. “Daring helped pull me out of that, to bring me back to myself.”

Martial clenched his fists. “But she’s gone now, and all I have left is the ability to spread this pain to those who deserve it.”

“Good grief…” Care Carrot shut her eyes tight and rubbed her forehead. “Are you trying to get kicked off the squad?”

“I’m trying to relate to you the reality of the situation.” He pointed out the window, though he had no idea where his target was actually located. “Kiln is a bad person. Caballeron is a bad person. Rhombus doesn’t even deserve to be called a person. If I killed any one of them, they would better the entire world with their absence.”

“And if we were still fighting any of them,” Care said, “I’d probably agree with you. But there’s a process. They’re allies for the moment.”

“For the moment, but when the moment’s passed?” Martial threw his talons up and walked towards the window. Stars twinkled overhead, blinking merrily, but storm clouds loomed on the seaward horizon. “I’ll stay my sword, but only because it’s what Daring would have wanted.”

He peered into the clouds, and caught a glimpse of two cigar-shaped airships. The Corona and the Stella hummed towards Felaccia, carrying their royalty with them. The ache in Martial’s heart became a depthless pit.

“Have you really lost everything?”

Martial’s ears shot up and swiveled towards Care. He turned his head to one side to look her straight-on. She leaned against her hooves, her head nearly limp. She looked tired and weary, and he could tell her heart ached, too. They were all in pain; Blankety was the source of that truth.

He scratched his chin morosely. “You’re my commanding officer. You probably should know.”

He turned his memories back to happier times. Thoughts of sunbaked cliffsides, life-filled oases, skillfully-carved battlements. Home, at one time. “I was born into the Paw clan. One of the ruling families in Felaccia. It was expected that one day, I would follow in my father’s footsteps and become the Captain of the Guard; the leader of the Blitzwings. My father’s sister, Fayr, was Andean Ursagryph’s wife, and the mother of his children.”

He curled his talons around his beak to keep silent for a moment. When he spoke, the words were pained. “We loved each other very much.”

His wings sagged, and he let his talons drop to the floor. “When Fayr died of leukemia, my father was devastated. His political rivals saw it as a chance to supersede him. The strongest of them, Corvus Validus, challenged him to a duel.” His talons jabbed into his palm hard enough to draw a drop of blood. “He defeated my father. Humiliated him. Made a show of him. Validus was made head Blitzwing.”

He reached to his side to feel the comforting presence of his sword. “I hated Validus for it. I was expected to eventually defeat him in honorable combat and replace him, but… With all the pain we’d been through, I couldn’t take it.”

He turned to face Care fully, his brow low. “I found him as he was drunk from celebrating. And… I killed him. I stabbed him in the stomach and left him to die on the cliffside.”

He expected Care to react or interrupt somehow, but the mare continued to surprise him. She maintained her stance, listening closely. Her forehead furrowed, but beyond that, she simply waited for him to finish.

He found himself taken aback despite himself. He sighed, waving a talon dismissively. “My uncle—King Andean had no choice but to banish me according to our laws. Dishonorable combat. Murder. It’s simply not tolerated. I was set adrift, to travel the world and try to find a place for myself. Away from the people who could no longer call themselves my family.”

He eyed the root beer. He still had half a bottle. He drank it down, despite the fact that it wouldn’t really help his throat. “I found myself in Griffonstone, and was an outcast even among those grumps. I stayed as long as I could stand it…” He brought a talon to his chest. “Until she showed up. Daring appeared, searching for the Idol of Borealis. We ran into each other, and ended up helping each other. She offered me a spot in her crew.”

He sighed through his nostrils. “Even knowing what I’d done, where I’d come from, she still believed in me. I met Rainbow Dash, and Blankety Blank, and Humphrey, and her other oddballs.”

He sat across the table from Care, cradling his drink between both talons. The straw rattled around the bottle. He supposed he’d said all there was to say. He didn’t really have anything in him for more. That was all of him; his sins laid bare. His life summed up.

Rather than try to anticipate Care’s next move, he simply watched her. She apparently sensed that his story was done, so she nodded, stood up, and put her bottle in the recycling bin. She placed a hoof on the table beside his talon. “You haven’t lost everything, Martial. We’ve got your back. Can I trust you to have ours?”

He looked her right in the eye. After a heavy moment, he glanced away. “I believe so, Captain.”

“Care.” She nodded firmly. “And I believe so, too. Daring was smart about this sort of thing.”

She left through the door, and let it latch softly behind her. Martial Paw held his head in his talons, his mind racing and his heart fit to burst. Daring was indeed smart about this sort of thing.

But she was still dead.

Author's Note

Caballeron's song is set to the tune of "The Neva Flows" from the Anastasia Broadway Musical.

The Better Days

“—no matter who hates you for it.”

Caballeron jerked upright. The room had gone dark, the magilights dimming in the dead of night. He pushed the window slider open and saw that the blackness was as assured and unbroken as ever. The two young ponies lay on the far side of the room, Button Mash on his cot, Sweetie beside him on the floor. Ha. Some gentlecolt he turned out to be.

Yet even with that, the colt’s words echoed painfully in his ears. “Being a stallion means quietly doing the right thing—”

Caballeron flexed his shoulder. He expanded his chest with a wheeze. The ambrosia had done its work. No pain restricted his movements save for a minor ache where the sword had exited his back. His muscles were mended, his skin resurfaced. Removing the bandaged, Caballeron didn’t find a trace of a visible scar. The boy knew what he was doing.

If only Caballeron could say the same thing about himself.

The plan was a mess. There was no way Ahuizotl would give him the heart until the sun device was already activated. Caballeron didn’t want to be anywhere nearby when that happened. The mad god would start a war the world over. Everything would be ash and cinder.

Or worse, endless night. At least death by fireball was quick.

A pony could survive with half a heart, that much was obvious. But not for very long. Caballeron needed to find it soon.

The doctor stood up and grasped his spur. He latched the straps around his right foreleg and flipped the blade out. He gave it a few practice swings, found it satisfactory, and folded it safely away.

He needed to check in. Kiln would be expecting it; Rhombus, too. But Kiln would be the one answering.

For once in his life, he’d rather talk to that lovesick, sarcastic, sadistic pegasus than his best friend.

Caballeron opened the door and trotted through the corridors. He already knew where to go. He’d spent enough time looking around the flagship for any sign of his heart. The communications room had been a storage locker, back in its time. Ahuizotl had placed a magic mirror for communications to various world leaders. Andean Ursagryph, Mangle of Beefland, and several others had been contacted. Thus far, the responses had been varied, bordering on negative. The sultan of Saddle Arabia required proof that the device would work before he threw his lot in with Ahuizotl. The zebras claimed that fighting Celestia would be a fool’s errand. Chrysalis II of the changelings had thrown Ahuizotl out on his rump.

Caballeron stood before the mirror. It was a full-length mirror, able to shown the entire body of a normal pony. Caballeron tapped its surface and waited.

Time and space warped themselves to suit his wishes. Kiln’s face appeared from the small pocket mirror he carried around. “I can’t talk long, Poni. Good tae see ye.”

“I’m on board the ship. I’m well.” Caballeron, for the briefest of moments, thought that the conversation could pass quickly. “We’re headed for—”

“Felaccia, I know.” Kiln shook his head. His big orange sideburns blocked Caballeron’s view. “We cannae go through with this, Poni. If Ahuizotl gets that device runnin’, it’s war. Do ye ken what a war of the sun would do? What’ll happen tae our families? What’ll happen tae me daughter? Please tell me ye’ve found yer heart.”

Caballeron sucked in a deep breath. “No, Kiln. Of course not.”

“Horseapples.” Kiln gazed at something out of sight, then muttered darkly at the mirror. “I suppose Merry will have tae raise all o’ us from the grave.”

Caballeron’s heart broke at the sight of the stallion. He was holding onto a worthless hope. A hope that by helping Caballeron reunite with Merry, they could raise both Happy and Amber Waves out of death. He held that same hope as Merry…

Kiln’s hope was worthless for the same reason hers was.

“Being a stallion means doing the right thing—”

Caballeron’s throat constricted. “Kiln…”

“—no matter who hates you for it.”

Kiln peered with narrow eyes. “Poni. What’s eatin’ ye?”

Caballeron sighed to himself. At least with the truth, Kiln would leave this wretched life. Reconnect with his daughter. Find his peace with Amber’s death. Perhaps with time, he could forget his friendship with Caballeron had ever happened.

“Merry will never bring Amber back.” Caballeron loathed the words as they left his mouth; words that should have been spoken decades ago. “Because she’s the one who killed her.”

Kiln shook his head. His eyes looked dazed. “What?”

“She was babysitting my son and his friend that day.” Caballeron reached a hoof out to lean against the mirror. His strength of heart and body both failed him. “They went out to play, but they went to the Everfree instead of Whitetail Woods. When he fell into the river, it was a simple freak accident.”

He shut out Kiln’s face by squeezing his eyes closed until his head hurt. “But Merry blamed Amber. So she brought her out to the Everfree and forced her to eat Poison Joke until she died.”

They were silent for a long, agonizing moment.

“I hope ye burn in Hell, ye dastard,” Kiln said quietly.

The image vanished, and Caballeron sat in the shadows.

“The sun has set
The skies bleed red
And we are both alone
When all is said
We’re both half-dead
The consequences leave us cold as stone”

Caballeron’s house was in order. What was left of it, in any case. Now, it just left Ahuizotl and that heart.

Poni was beginning to believe that he’d never be whole again.

***

Apple Bloom stood at the edge of a precipice. It was the outermost part of Canterlot, overlooking Ponyville down below. To her left, the open air was clouded with storms and bleary seas. To her right, the Undiscovered West swallowed up the last sparks of the sunset.

Spike sat in an uncomfortable wheelchair. It was designed for ponies, and so had nowhere to put his tail. The bandages on his shoulder and arm turned a faint green as the still-bleeding wounds leaked into the fabric. He heaved a sigh and moved a finger to touch her foreleg.

Apple Bloom glanced back at Night Light, who spoke quietly with Twilight Sparkle and Celestia. She had stopped trying to listen. Blood was pumping in her ears too loudly. Her heart had sank too rapidly. There wasn’t really anybody to talk to about it. Spike was warbling in and out of consciousness, and she didn’t want to burden him. Not when he was already still mourning for Daring Do.

Dragon Lord Ember’s reply had come back, and she said the only way to save Spike was to bring him to the Dragon Lands.

Ahuizotl’s swords were ancient magic weapons specifically designed to kill dragons. Forged by the griffons several thousand years ago, they could cut through scales like they were nothing.

Scales, as it turned out, were made of magic. Dragon magic, which no one had studied in any great detail. All Ember could say was that there was a spring with restorative properties in the Cauldron, her capitol city. A dragon was en route to pick him up and carry him away.

Celestia walked to the edge to stand beside Apple Bloom. The princess looked down at her, pressing her lips together. “He’ll be back soon. It’s only until the spring does its work.”

“I know.” Apple Bloom let her ears droop. A light snore lifted from Spike, who had fallen asleep for the thirtieth time since they’d arrived. “Any idea how long that’ll take?”

Celestia furrowed her brow. “I don’t know. Dragons have always been a mystery to me, no matter how much I’ve researched. No matter how many friends I make.” The princess smiled at Apple Bloom. “He won’t be alone, though. Ember and Shardscale both care very much about him. They’ll see to his safety.”

A breeze tugged at Apple Bloom’s mane. She took a hesitant step away from the ledge, not wanting even the slightest possibility of a fall. It was a pretty view, though. As she watched, Ponyville glittered more and more brightly, the lights of homes and businesses flicking on.

But Carousel Boutique remained dark.

Scootaloo and Rumble were somewhere in the castle, getting cleaned up and bandaged respectively. A tiny bit of Apple Bloom smiled when she realized Rumble was set to receive his first medal, after suffering that painful wound to his wing. The smile dimmed when she realized the wound also meant he couldn’t jump back into battle. Ambrosia, miracle cure that it was, still needed a week to fix a broken bone. Scootaloo also required more rest than she was willing to admit. Having her magic removed and her body overworked had taken its toll.

They needed rest, recuperation, and perhaps recreation.

“I’m the only one who’s goin’ after Sweetie and Button,” she said at last. “Ain’t I?”

“Not by a long shot,” Celestia replied. “Luna is already leading the navy into battle. Care Carrot’s team is sure to welcome you back.” Celestia rested a wing on Apple Bloom’s back. “Sweetie Belle will be overjoyed to see you again.”

Apple Bloom nodded. The wind grew stronger, pulling at the ribbons in her mane. “Yeah. She’ll need a friendly face.”

Celestia glanced behind her, to the city-state of Canterlot itself. “You have free reign of the potion supplies and recipes at the School for Gifted Unicorns. I suggest that you spend some time with the professors there and kit yourself out. Professor Sunburst should be helping a few students with late projects.”

“Sunburst?” Apple Bloom held her mane out of her face. “Ain’t he Starlight Glimmer’s friend?”

“One and the same.” Celestia turned back to the vista and squinted into the darkness. “He moved out of the Crystal Empire when Flurry Heart transferred to the school. He’s done well for himself as a jack-of-all-trades tutor.”

The wind grew stronger yet, making listening difficult. Celestia gently pushed Apple Bloom back and called to Twilight and Night. “She’s here! Make room!”

A shimmer of lavender magic grasped Spike’s chair and wheeled it off to the side. The five of them moved to pavement and watched the grassy patch at the edge of the southern castle grounds. The cemetery stood behind it, nearer to the peak of the mountain. Daring’s pyre still smoldered.

A tremendous gust of wind blasted their faces, causing Apple Bloom to fall to her rump. The ground shook beneath them as an equally tremendous thing impacted the mountainside. When Apple Bloom felt secure enough to open her eyes, the sight threatened to rip a scream from her throat.

A full-sized adult dragon stood before them, her scales a glistening blue-green. Green fire leaked from the corners of her jaws. Sharp eyes glowed, beating out the evening starlight for intensity. Teeth like sharpened, curved swords appeared as she opened her mouth.

The dragon lifted a single claw and waved gently. “Sup?”

Apple Bloom’s knees knocked. She opened her mouth more out of shock than to speak. “Hoooly—!”

“Hold up.” The dragon lifted a pointer claw. She breathed a gout of green flame and twirled her claws through it. First she drew forth a sheet of paper the size of a barn, then she conjured a feather pen—probably one made from a Roc’s feather. She took both from midair and began to scribble frantically. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

Apple Bloom looked to Princess Celestia, her eyes threatening to pop right out of their sockets. The princess let out a giggle. “Shardscale is the chronicler of both the dragons and of Equestria. She records everything she sees.”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

“Very thoroughly.”

Shardscale ended her sentence with a plate-sized period. “Gotta say, Princess, it’s pretty rad to have you up and about again. Sorry I haven’t been able to visit since the attack.”

“We both have our duties, Shard.” Celestia ruefully rubbed the scar on her chest. “Even now.”

Apple Bloom thought back to when Applejack had met Shardscale. How had she described it? “Incongruous;” that was it. The dragon’s low, rumbling, yet distinctly female voice, spoken with all the gravitas of a teenager surfing around Seaquestria.

“Oh yeah, yeah, that.” Shardscale bent low to look Spike in the eye. The younger dragon, woozy as he was, seemed content to blink rapidly. “Yo, Spike! Been a minute! How’re you doing, dude?”

“Uh.” Spike shook his head, but seemed unable to clear the cobwebs. “Been better. Good to see you, Shard.”

“’S what I hear.” Shard’s glowing eyes sought Celestia. “They found the Wyrmslayer Blades, huh?”

“I fear so.” Celestia tipped an ear towards Spike, her mouth pulled down in a frown. “We will seek every avenue to see these weapons seized or destroyed.”

Shard raised a couple of talons. “Two guesses which one Dragon Lord Ember wants.”

“Seein’ what they can do,” Apple Bloom said, “I’m inclined to agree with her.”

Shardscale opened a filmy ear wider. She raised an eyebrow and blew another breath of fire. From this one she pulled a notepad that was absolutely covered in scribbles. It was also about the size of an apple cart. “Oh hay! Hay! You’re Apple Bloom right? Applejack’s little sis!”

Apple Bloom found it in herself to grin widely. The delight in Shard’s voice spread into her chest, easing a bit of her anxiety. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Dude! Psyched to meet you!” Shardscale pointed a talon at Apple Bloom. The tip of the nail hovered way too close for comfort. “Applejack’s one of the coolest ponies I’ve ever met! How’s she doin’?”

Apple Bloom’s eyed the sharpened point. The claw refused to move away. “Yeah, uh, she’s okay…”

Shard tilted her head to the side and smirked. “Gonna leave a girl hangin’?”

Apple Bloom breathed a sigh of relief as realization took hold. She reached a hoof out and bumped Shardscale’s claw. “Sorry. Ain’t never really spent time with full-sized dragons since Big Spike came to town. An’ he was kinda a dog.”

“Oh, totally. Big Spike, Sirenbane.” Shardscale scribble, scribble, scribbled with her pen, her eyes taking on a distant look as she drummed up memories. “Wrote a paper on him last year. Raises a few existential questions, but I guess that’s for the philosophers to work out.”

Twilight Sparkle scratched beneath her ever-present gemstone necklace. She levitated a suitcase towards Shardscale. “This should tide Spike over during his visit. A few books, his favorite gemstone snacks, a scarf in case it gets chilly—”

“In a volcano?” Night Light said.

“—a pen and paper so he can write…” Twilight Sparkle frowned at her father. “You never know what sort of situations he’ll find himself in. If Shard flies at a high altitude, it could be really cold up there.”

“Actually, my inner fire’ll keep us warm.” Shard shrugged. “Perks of bein’ a dragon.”

“Then the scarf is so he doesn’t have to lay his head on a rock.” Twilight Sparkle sighed. She hugged Spike from behind, one foreleg over his good shoulder, the other touching his good forearm. She waited for a moment, her muzzle scrunched as she puzzled out what she wanted to say. “Stay safe, Spike.”

“Hmm?” Spike blinked his eyes open. He took a sip of a soda clutched in his hands; something to keep his blood-sugar up. “Yeah. Thanks, Twi.”

“Hold up! Hold up, you!”

Apple Bloom looked over her shoulder to see Rarity and Applejack tramping down the path towards the small farewell party. Rarity waved a kerchief as she trotted, her eyes suspiciously free from their usual hint of mascara. “Hullo there! You wouldn’t leave without letting us wish you adieu would you?”

Applejack stopped beside Apple Bloom and reached as high as she could to hug her around the neck. Apple Bloom draped a foreleg across her sister’s shoulders. “AB, I can’t tell ya how glad I am to see you okay.”

“Feelin’s mutual, AJ.”

Rarity gave Spike a kiss on both cheeks and took a measured step back, her breath shallow and her voice strained. “Do take care of yourself, Precious Scales. You’ll be needed for far more adventures in the future.”

“Yeah, that figures.” Spike let out a faint chuckle. He glanced around at the collected faces, then stopped on Night Light. “Tell Mom I’m gonna miss her, okay?”

“She’s going to miss you, too, Spike.” Night Light gave the young dragon a hug and a kiss on the forehead. He ruffled Spike’s filmy ears. “Get yourself healed up. And don’t be a stranger.”

Applejack lightly, playfully swatted Spike on his good shoulder. “Keep your nose clean.” She tipped her hat to Shardscale. “Been a while, Chronicler.”

“Too long, Lord Mayor Applejack.” Shardscale winked over her sheet of notes. “I’m planning on covering your reelection this year.”

“Hooey to that, I’m skippin’ out the first chance I get!” Applejack flicked a tail as if to dispel a cloud of flies. “Back to the farm for me. It’s Merry’s turn to fix the dang roads.”

“Suit yourself. I’m still hovering around Ponyville this November.” Shard’s gentle smile became a weighted frown. “Anybody else have a goodbye?”

Rarity stood beside Twilight and Applejack, leaning on them for support. She looked dead tired to Apple Bloom’s eyes. “I love you, Spike. We all do.”

Spike bobbed his head. “I love you, too.”

Apple Bloom brought her face close to Spike’s. She looked into the glowing, green, mesmerizing gemstones that were his eyes. She closed her eyes and softly kissed his lips.

Spike kissed back.

Apple Bloom stopped.

She hissed a sigh, touched her forehead to his, and cleared the path to Shardscale.

“All aboard the Academia Express,” the full-size dragon said. She lifted Spike in a single claw and placed him in a basket on her back. She went to the edge of the cliff, made a little hop, and stretched her wings to their full windstorm-inducing length.

The gust of her departure threw Applejack’s hat from her head. Apple Bloom caught it in her teeth, held it out to her sister, and raised her head above the others gathered there. “Alright. Who’s gonna help me make potions?”

***

Scootaloo felt her frogs tingle as they were cleaned by her bubble bath. She dunked her head beneath the warm water, ran her hooves through her mane, and came up sparkly and satiated. The glistening gilded bathtub heated the water and frothed it with equally enticing spells.

Staying at Canterlot Castle was pretty swanky, yeah.

She leaned on the edge of the tub, letting her forelegs dangle in the cooler air, allowing them respite from the constant massaging heat. “Dude. You gotta try this thing.”

Rumble lay on a nearby pile of cushions, his wing encased in a prison of plaster and fabric. He pointed at the offending appendage. “The cast can’t get wet. It’s sponge baths for me for the foreseeable future.”

“Ugh.” Scootaloo sunk all four legs in the tub and flicked her wings up. The purple feathers shimmered with thrown water. The droplets sparkled and hovered in the air, collecting around Scootaloo in a loose cloud. Subtle flicks of her feathers sent them spiraling around in a dance. She stared at Rumble over the rim of the tub. “Hay.”

He was in the middle of biting into a sandwich. He turned her way with bulging cheeks. “Mhwa?”

She lay her chin on the tub’s edge. “It’s really great to see you.”

Rumble chewed frantically in an effort to respond. “I missed you, Scootaloo. I mean, I know it’s cliché, but I thought about you every day.”

“I thought about you, too.” Scootaloo touched the water droplets together. She let them collect on the tip of her nose as a bubble of liquid. “A lot’s happened while you were in basic. I really… the letters are nice, but I wanna talk to you for real.”

Rumble took a smaller, more manageable bite. “I guess we need to make the most of the time we’ve got. Life advice, right there.”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” She rolled onto her back and tossed the bubble of water to herself. “It’s just… since you left, it’s been one weird thing after another. Like, not all of it’s bad, just weird. Didja know Spike and Apple Bloom went steady? Like, they’re dating in public now.”

“Wow. Good for them.” Rumble fluffed up his pillow to sit higher. He and Scootaloo were just able to see each other over the side of the tub. “If they can make it work… good for them.”

“I know, right?” Scootaloo snickered. “Just a couple years ago, Apple Bloom was throwing rocks at my window lookin’ for romantic advice.”

Rumble raised an eyebrow. “You told her to confess her feelings by kissing him, didn’t you?”

“How’d you know?”

“Putting two and two together.” Rumble smiled and leaned forward just a little, his eyes gazing upon semi-distant memories. “Just after the big storm, Button had us all get together at his place. Spike had a lot to say, lemme tell yah.”

Rumble’s smile aged into a wrinkled, sagging frown. He gazed at his injured wing. His voice grew quiet. “I hope they’re alright.”

Scootaloo matched his expression. The sight of Rumble lying alone, the weight of the world on his shoulders, sent sympathy pains through Scootaloo’s wings. She flicked a droplet at him and hit him square in the forehead. “So, like, the weirdest thing that happened is probably the golden apples growing in Fluttershy’s garden.”

“When did that become a thing?”

“After Pumpkin and Pound Cake stowed away on the expedition to restore Discord’s memory.” Scootaloo waved a hoof before he could raise the question. “Long story. The short of it is that Discord rules the far side of the world now, and Fluttershy’s growing the apples to make sure that someday… someday he’ll be able to live in Equestria again.” A lump found its way unbidden into Scootaloo’s throat. “Someday he’ll be able to help us out again.”

Her wings sagged, and the droplets fell back into the tub, twinkling and plopping all the while. She lowered her head until her mouth was submerged, only her nose supplying her with needed air.

“Speaking of people you miss,” Rumble said, “looks like you miss him an awful lot.”

“He turned out to be a really cool guy. Even if he is a jerk.” Scootaloo blew bubbles, which didn’t nearly hold a candle to the suds the bathtub was already producing. “How about you? What’s a year in the Royal Guard like?”

“Well, if there’s one thing Centurion Stonewall believes, it’s that the best offense is a good defense.” Rumble rubbed his shoulder muscles. “A brick in the wall takes a lot of punishment.”

Scootaloo wrapped her forelegs around her torso and smiled. “Ah, so you are no longer a pony-at-arms. You have been promoted to flying brick.”

“Bricks get the message across.” He shrugged, a sardonic grin twisting his muzzle. “What can I say? I spent months getting pushed harder than I’ve ever been before, farther from my friends and family than ever before. I finally get my first assignment, and it’s taking on a dozen-or-so cultists with one wing speared to my back. It’s going pretty good, for what it’s worth.”

Scootaloo yawned and stretched. She leaned herself against the edge of the tub, tiredness seeping through every portion of her body. “For what it’s worth, I really appreciate it.”

She stepped out of the tub and, forgoing towels, slid most of the water out of her coat with a flash of pegasus magic. The tub gurgled as the bath swept its way down the drain. She lay down next to Rumble and shut her eyes, her cheek bunching up against his chest. “I missed this. This is nice.”

“I, uh…” Rumble laughed once, a smile breaking out over his face. “I agree. This is very nice.”

Scootaloo snorted herself awake. She shook her head, looking at him with a decidedly unalert expression. “Didja say somethin’?”

“Nah.” He slid his good wing over her shoulders as she curled up against him. “I didn’t say anything.”

The door to their suite rattled rhythmically with a hoof providing percussion. Scootaloo grumbled and covered her head with Rumble’s wing. “Go ‘way. M’sleepin’.”

“Scoot?” A familiar voice broke through the fog and struck Scootaloo right in the heart. “You in there, sis?”

“Rainbow Dash!” Scootaloo leaped to her hooves, wakefulness returning to her in a blast of energy. She scampered across the room to the door and practically threw it open. The rainbow-maned pegasus on the far side embraced her in an instant, and it was just as immediately returned.

Scootaloo felt tears well up behind her eyes. “Oh my gosh, it’s good to see you.”

Rainbow Dash sniffled loud and long, careful to keep her snot away from Scootaloo’s mane. “Aw, Squirt. I was so freaking worried about you, and I couldn’t get away from Cloudsdale, and I totally should have been there—”

“Hay, come on.” Scootaloo put her hooves to Rainbow Dash’s shoulders and held her at leg’s length. “You did what you could. You’ve got responsibilities—”

“You’re my responsibility, too.” It was only now that Scootaloo could see that most of the tears weren’t fresh. Rainbow Dash’s red eyes and matted coat suggested she hadn’t been sleeping well the last few days. A flurry of hiccups turned Dash’s cheeks red with frustration. “You gotta know I wanna help you.”

“I know.” Scootaloo brought Rainbow closer, with a firm, loving hug. “And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Rainbow shook her head, even as she sighed in relief. “I just wanna be able to do more. Nothing I do ever seems to help these days.”

Scootaloo propped up the drooping Rainbow Dash. She smiled at her with what she hoped was a convincing encouragement. “Look at it this way: You’ve always had what I needed.”

That got Rainbow to smile a little. However, It didn’t prevent a slightly sarcastic response. “If that were true, you’d have blue wings instead of purple ones.”

“I’m talking emotionally, mentally, physically, you’ve always been there.” Scootaloo took her by the hoof and pulled her towards a comfy chair in the corner of the suite. “Say, you’re tired. I’m tired. Rumble’s tired.”

“This much is true,” Rumble said.

“So why don’t we all take a load off and talk till we pass out?” Scootaloo dragged the chair inch by inch until Rumble made more headway by pushing it from behind. Before long, the chair and the cushions were all in close proximity. “Take some time to catch up. With each other, or with our sleep, whichever comes first.”

Rainbow Dash nestled into the chair. She faced the other two pegasi, the light in her eyes a mixture of sadness, pain, and sheer, unspeakable joy. “Sure thing, Squirt. That’s a great plan.”

***

The potions lab was quiet, save for the few students working on late-night projects. Apple Bloom was simultaneously invigorated and cowed by the sheer volume of ingredients available. Two entire walls held cabinet upon locked cabinet of pickled animal parts, rare flower petals, tufts of cloud, zap apple juice, and anything else she could hope to use.

Applejack stood beside her, fanning her face with her hat. “Hoo… I can’t make head nor tail o’ any of this, AB.”

Rarity peered into the laboratory, her lips lightly pursed. “We are not the subject matter experts, unfortunately. You’re certain we won’t be in your way, Apple Bloom?”

“Not so long as y’all can read labels.” Apple Bloom kept her voice low as she skimmed through a cabinet. Eye of newt. Scale of dragon. Hair of a rabid dog. She gave that last one a wide berth. “Anybody here seen Professor Sunburst?”

A unicorn mare near the back of the room waved. “He said he were lookin’ fer recipes on account o’ some fancy princess business. Said he’d be back in a mo’.”

“That’s probably my business, too.” Apple Bloom nodded politely. “Thanks, miss…”

“Ember Waves.” Ember lowered an eyebrow and adjusted the white lab coat she wore. “An’ there’s nae ‘miss’ aboot it. If’n ye don’t wanna use me full name, call me Em.”

Apple Bloom grimaced, though she turned her face away to hide the expression. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend.”

“Ye didn’t.” Ember poured a measured beaker into a larger cup. “Now afore we get off on the wrong hoof, what’s yer name?”

“Apple Bloom. From Ponyville.”

“Ponyville?” Ember muttered the town’s name. She took notes on her mixture’s reaction, her horn glowing with a sea-green tinge. “Ye’re a new student, then?”

“Naw. The lab’s on loan.” Apple Bloom jumped as a lab coat slipped itself onto her shoulders. Rarity circled around her, attempting to cinch the garment tight.

“Sorry, dear, but it’s safety first with this sort of thing.” She peered over her red rimmed glasses at Applejack. “Grab the safety goggles, would you? No sense poking out an eye. Or melting it into goop.”

Apple Bloom tugged at the collar of her new coat. “Huh. Didn’t think they’d have one that fit me.”

“Celestia uses the lab from time tae time.” Ember corked her potion and slid it next to a few others on the table. She leaned on her forelegs and pushed her safety goggles onto her forehead. “Staff prides themselves on havin’ soomthin’ for e’erypony.”

“Indeed we do!” A nasally voice preceded a unicorn stallion’s entrance into the room, followed closely by Twilight Sparkle. The both of them carried large tomes in their telekinetic bubbles, clearly noted as reference books. His silver-speckled robe swished around his ankles as he set his books on a nearby table. He had to look up to see her face, but then, so did most ponies. “The name’s Sunburst, and I’m at your service tonight. We should have practically everything you need for some high-level potions.”

Twilight Sparkle set her books on top of his. Her wings fluttered, lifting her off the ground to survey the room. “You’re gonna love it, Apple Bloom. They’ve got everything in here! What do you wanna start with?”

“Hmm.” Apple Bloom filed through her thoughts. A few choice recipes appeared in her head, along with ideas for several others. “I thought some invisibility potions would help with the sneakin’ around this time. Woulda made some myself, but didn’t have nearly the ingredients. Mayhap more o’ my piranha plant potions. Somethin’ combustible wouldn’t go amiss…”

“Blimey!” Ember trotted up to their table, her jaw all but hanging limp from her head. “Worrya be gettin’ yerself intae if’n ye be needin’ such?”

Apple Bloom thought about that for a good long moment. “Huh? Sorry, I don’t quite unders—”

“I’m askin’ ye what’s all this for.” Ember waved a hoof over the tomes, her eyes straying to the princess not two meters away. “If I didnae know better, I’d think ye were goin’ intae a war zone!”

Sunburst absently tugged on his dangling goatee. “It’s not too far from the truth.”

“I’m sorry,” Twilight Sparkle said, raising her head above Ember’s. “This is official princess business, and we can’t really divulge that sort of information.”

Ember snorted. “Then maybe ye could take yer entirely too interestin’ official princess business an’ take it tae an official princess laboratory? Instead o’ the student lab? If’n I can’t be entertained, I’d at least like tae be left in peace.”

Applejack threw a foreleg around Ember’s shoulders and dragged her none-too-gently towards her work station. “Alright, Em. We got just as much a right to the lab as you. Maybe moreso. Just like we got a right to be secretive-like, an’ you got a right to have a bee in your bonnet.”

“Ach.” Ember scowled under Applejack’s strong grip. “If’n I had a bee in me bonnet, I’d more’n likely shove it up yer ar—”

Applejack gave her a hearty, friendly slap on the back that nearly knocked her to the floor. “Glad we could come to an agreement! Take care, sugarcube!”

Apple Bloom shrugged. “Sorry ’bout that, Ember.”

Ember rolled her eyes. She pulled away from Applejack and stuck her tongue out. “Word o’ advice: Get somethin’ tae blind ’em. They cannae kill what they cannae see.”

“Sounds good to me.” Apple Bloom glanced around the gathered would-be potion makers. Of the bunch of them, only Sunburst and Twilight had any experience. Still, potion makers they would be. “Alright, folks. Twi, Sunburst, y’all look for those recipes. Applejack, Rarity, you an’ me’re gonna look for the ingredients I can remember.”

Rarity gave her a curt nod and reached out. “For Sweetie Belle.”

Twilight Sparkle put her hoof atop Rarity’s. “For Aunt Yearling.”

“For Button,” Applejack said, adding to the pile.

Apple Bloom laid her hoof next, meeting eyes with Twilight as she said what they were both thinking. “For Spike.”

Twilight smiled at Sunburst, inclining her head to invite him in. “How about you? Do you have something worth fighting for?”

Sunburst tried to speak, but it mostly came out at a stutter. “Ah—of course. I mean, I don’t have nothing to—that is, it’s…” He heaved a sigh and put his hoof on the pile. “For Equestria?”

“For Harmony and such.” The assembled ponies turned on Ember with wide eyes as she pushed her way into the huddle. She grinned at them. “Me assignment’s done, and I don’t have tae know why ye’re brewin’ in order tae see it brewed. I know I wanna see how an invisibility potion’s made.”

Applejack pulled a long face. “Anythin’ I can do to dissuade yah?”

“Hmm…” Ember tapped her chin. “Nah.”

“I’m all for the extra help.” Apple Bloom gave her older sister a smirk. “Shall we?”

The group threw their hooves in the air, raising a whooping cry.

***

Confuto, High Priest of the Painted Ones, trotted through the corridors of the Hesperus Mactans. He had seen from the ambient magic readings that an unauthorized message had been sent with the ship’s magic mirror. The device was one-of-a-kind, able to send messages the world over with a single spell. Such power would not be abused while he was in charge.

He never made it to the mirror. He was halted by a metaphorical icicle to the heart. “Confuto.”

Confuto swiveled his head in every direction imaginable, and found nothing. “Who dares? Show yourself!”

Magic traced its way throughout the hallway, crafting the outline and skeletal structure of an equine individual. The walls opened, emitting metallic assemblies that scuttled across the floor with a mind of their own. Armor was assembled from the pieces, topped with a two-horned crown. The ghostly image stepped into it, and the device moved like a living, breathing individual.

Confuto stood rooted to the spot, unable to react. His throat constricted; he was able to release a mere squeak.

“Confuto, you are Ahuizotl’s most loyal acolyte.” The living suit of armor walked towards him with long, lanky strides. “I have a mission of utmost secrecy for you.”

Confuto latched onto Ahuizotl’s name like a shipwreck victim to a life preserver. “Surely, Ahuizotl would give me such a mission himself.”

“Ahuizotl will not learn of this mission.” The armor tilted its head. “Only you and the few I send with you.”

Confuto’s throat bobbed. “I will do nothing without Ahuizotl’s direct approval. He is the law, and he is the almighty god of the Paint—”

“There is no god but the Creator.” The horns on the helmet glowed a fiery green. “I tire of your pontificating.”

This time, Confuto’s tongue was not silenced by fear or confusion, but by the iron grip of magic. His very thoughts grew fuzzy as the armor’s magic wormed itself into his head.

“You are to find the changeling queen, Chrysalis the Second, in Canterlot.” The armor filled his vision, his thoughts, his whole being. “You are to bring her to me unharmed. Should you fail, you shall live the rest of your long, long life knowing aught but pain.”

“I will…” Confuto had been doing something, had he not? But then, was not Queen Cicada’s desire more important? “I will find Chrysalis the Second. She is… You shall restore the changelings through her.”

“You shall keep this a secret.” Cicada’s power molded his mind like putty, running his gray matter through its grasping tendrils. “Or you shall pluck your own eyes out.”

She pointed towards the heart of the changeling flagship. “Go. The others are already waiting for you.”

“As you command, Queen River Cicada…” Confuto trotted back the way he came. The quickest way to Equestria would be through a dragoncopter, but those only carried two ponies. She had selected two acolytes and one six-legged automaton to be his allies.

How did he know that? He hadn’t known that a moment ago, had he?

Of course, he remembered now. His queen had many powers, and the ability to implant information was her greatest aid to efficiency.

The others already stood beside a Strutter. This one was beetle-shaped; large armored plating shielded attacks from above, while a heavy spellcaster sat on the prow, ready to fire magic with all the power of a lightning bolt. An automaton huddled in the back, while the ponies manned the controls.

He examined the automaton closer, and recognized some scratches on the back. “She chose Dissero for this mission?”

“Our queen decided to send only the most loyal Painted Ones on this mission.” One of the acolytes, Lapsus, regarded Confuto with a slightly distant gaze. Perhaps his mind was on other things. Fool. He should focus on the task at hand.

The other pony, Insurgo, spoke at a low drone that didn’t quite sound equine. “This task is a great honor for the Painted Ones. Soon, the changelings shall rise again.”

Confuto furrowed his brow. There was something very important that he was forgetting. Something critical. Ahuizotl would need to know…

But he supposed that if it was important, Queen River Cicada would tell him about it.

“We are cleared for take-off.” He climbed behind them, belting himself into the seat. “Let’s move before we get too far into the storm.”

The four acolytes, three with their minds hopelessly scrambled and one trapped in an artificial body, flew off into the night.

Cicada watched them go, then allowed her armor to disassemble. Her magic dissipated throughout the inner workings of the Hesperus Mactans, controlling every facet, leaving nothing to chance.

Nor leaving it to the will of a mad god.

***

Martial Paw sharpened his rapier spark by spark, swipe by swipe. He examined the edge, keen as could be. He gave the sword a few practice swipes; it would cut flesh as easily as it cut through the air.

“This blade has been honed
By the finest whetstone
A weapon that’s destined to kill

“Though I’m sorely outmatched
By the plan this god hatched
I have one final job to fulfill”

He gripped the turner vollygun Andean had given him. Four rounds were loaded into the chambers, ready to be unleashed with a pull of the trigger. He clicked the safety lever into place and mounted the holster to his belt. He slid his rapier into its scabbard and tested his weight. He was able to hover and fly without difficulty.

He leaned against the window to his suite’s balcony, his talons scraping the glass. He looked out over Canterlot. Night life bustled beneath the castle, carrying on despite the goings on of the kingdom. Even those who had fled the arrival of the changelings were starting to return, strangeness having once again become commonplace.

“Now it’s time to take charge
Or it’s time to take flight
And I’m consumed by one simple thought

“I will rip out his heart
Tear his kingdom apart
And I’m striking, I’m striking, I’m striking!
Strike while the iron is hot!”

***

Magic swarmed around the potions lab as the brewers made their magic. Apple Bloom and Ember worked closely to keep the harsh chemicals from exploding. Twilight and Sunburst strove to translate and adapt ancient potion recipes to a modern environment. Rarity and Applejack never stopped moving, carrying ingredients to and fro.

Apple Bloom watched the color of a potion change from blue to green, indicating that it was ready.

“A trustworthy crew
A powerful brew
For the battle that’s soon to be won

“Despite all the strife
It’s part of my life
And I’ll sail over the horizon”

She corked the bottle and trapped the rapidly developing magic inside its protective barrier. She added it to the collection of finished potions that occupied the table behind them, bubbling and sparkling with a multitude of colors.

“Now it’s time to make good
Or it’s time to make way
And I’m marching forth, ready or not

“I must fight for my friends
From now until the end
And I’m striking, I’m striking, I’m striking!
Strike while the iron is hot!”

***

Blankety Blank stood before the smoldering pyre, empty save for a scant few ashes that had not yet been taken by the mountain wind. He sat in his usual pony disguise, white coated, white maned, pink eyed, earth pony. He didn’t want to go to the castle, knowing that Chrysalis was staying there. He couldn’t go to Ponyville and be back in time to leave for Felaccia. He was trapped between a place he couldn’t go and a place he didn’t want to be.

Care trotted towards him, a jacket keeping out the night chill. “Blank! You need some sleep. We’re leaving in the morning.”

“I k-know.” He shook his head, accepting the warm half-bodied hug she gave him. “I just don’t wanna be anywhere.”

They sat together in the cemetery, the aftereffects of Shardscale’s flight tugging at their manes and clothes. Care tucked her braided ponytail into her jacket and pulled the hood over her ears. “Why don’t we stay in the airship? I still have Martial’s docking pass. We’ll spend the night in the cabin. The Vanishing Point is more ‘nowhere’ than ‘somewhere,’ right?”

Blankety sniffled. He stood, and Care followed him towards the air harbor. “It’s a good idea, Care. A g—really good idea.”

They were alone on the road, this late at night. It was a fairly quick walk to where their ship was moored in the midsized-ship area. They climbed the plank, opened the door to the cabins, and found their chosen cots. Blank stared at the ceiling, his heart aching.

“Now it’s time to defend
Or it’s time to despair
All these goodbyes have been an onslaught”

Care rolled over in her cot so that she could see her friend. Her legs dangled as she sent him an affirming nod.

“But we’ll grow stronger still
With our cast-iron will
And we’re striking, we’re striking, we’re striking…
Strike while the iron is hot”

Author's Note

"Strike While the Iron is Hot" is based on "Ready as I'll Ever Be" from Tangled: the Series.

I haven't seen the series itself, but if that song's an indication, it's a worthwhile thing.

The title of "Big Spike, Sirenbane" was awarded to Spike T. Dog by BenRG in the comments section of In the Absence of Sunset Shimmer.

The Wrath of the Fair Folk

Rain battered the observatory windows of the FAF Corona. Blitzwing soldiers soared around the ship, keeping thunderclouds and violent winds away from the airship. Some short distance away, the Stella proceeded in much the same manner; slowly yet surely.

Corona, the ship’s namesake, held a spear lightly between her talons. She was alone in the room, swinging the weapon to and fro in practiced, precise movements. A hearty gust knocked her off balance, but she recovered with a sure sidestep. She held her stance with the spear running across her shoulders, parallel to her outstretched wings.

It was more a dance than combat practice at this point. A test to see whether her body and the spear could cooperate and move where her mind wished. With this session, she learned every shift of weight, every point of balance, and every possible position of the blade.

The physicality of it all helped take her mind off of their sudden departure. She knew there were only a few reasons her father would steal them away before the day was even through. One was an attack on their homeland, but surely Equestria would grant the princesses asylum until the danger was passed. One was that he and Celestia had finally gotten fed up with each other and parted ways. But Luna fought like a hellhound to keep their kingdoms friendly.

Had her father done something that not even Luna could forgive?

The thought caused her to lose control of the spear. The tip clattered unceremoniously against the floor. She sighed as she examined the blade; she’d need to sharpen it to remove the newfound dent.

“I’m sorry.” Her father’s voice came from behind her. “Did I startle you?”

Corona turned and regarded the larger-than-life griffon. Part of her simply wanted to launch herself at his chest and hide among his beard of black feathers, as she had when she was a chick. But she was older now, and certain childish things were best left behind.

“In a way, I suppose.” She twisted the spear between her talons, watching the tip twirl in the low light of the observatory. “I don’t know if my thoughts…”

She trailed off when she saw his furrowed brow. He had something to say, and the sooner she ended her explanation, the sooner he could air his grievances. When he saw she was waiting for him, he nodded.

“You knew I was having nightmares?”

That wasn’t the question she was expecting, but there was still time for that later. She leaned against her spear and tilted her head. “Yes, Father.”

“How long?”

Years. Years and years. “I had a question I wanted to ask you one night. When I arrived at your room, you were tossing and turning. It was a while ago.” Almost as long as Stella had been alive. Almost as long as their mother had not.

She drummed her talons against the spear shaft. She dared to glance at his intense eyes before returning to the rain outside. “When I spoke to Flurry Heart about it, it was to try and help you. She’s been having nightmares, too, and I hoped she might understand how they could be… beaten.”

Andean sighed, deep and dark. He, too, watched the blitzwings at work. “My dreams are not mere nightmares, Corona. They are… foretellers.”

Corona held her beak shut with a talon. Flurry had said her dreams were prophetic as well. She dreamed that Merry was evil. Did her father dream the same? “Wh—what do they tell you?”

Andean ran his talons through his beard. “I see a dark creature, as old as time itself. I see talons of fire that grasp you and Stella away from me, as my kingdom is turned to dust around me. I see that I am powerless to fight it.” He waved at the Stella, lingering on the bladed protrusion on the prow. “It is why I put all our wootz towards creating weapons of war, so that we may have a fighting chance.”

“How do you know it’s prophetic?” Corona positioned the spear so that it hung from her back, freeing her talons. She embraced this newfound freedom by wringing them against her chest. “It might just be your mind reacting to what’s happening around you.”

“Every night for the past seven years?” Andean shook his head. “The very same, with no variation. I can remember every word spoken. Feel every cut of the dark beast’s talon. Hear every scream as you and Stella are dragged into the Abyss.”

He touched a single talon to her back. His entire foot was nearly as big as her, but the touch was gentle and familiar. “The only way to end the dream is to defeat the monster when it finally rears its ugly head.” A soft breath preceded his next words. “It is why we are returning to Felaccia.”

Corona looked to her father. Wouldn’t Equestria assist them against the monster? Surely Celestia and Luna, who had gotten their fame fighting monsters, would be the first creatures to go to for help. “I don’t understand.”

“The monster is a fae creature from the first age,” Andean said. “He wishes to regain his control of the sun.”

Corona clicked her beak. “But Celestia—”

“Celestia has been too heavily injured.” Andean stared stoically into the storm, his face betraying no emotion, just a weighty tiredness. “Should something happen to Luna, Cadenza, or Twilight Sparkle, the fae would easily wrest control from them.” His free talon found the hilt of his broadsword and gripped it tightly. “That is why I have made a deal with Ahuizotl.”

Corona stumbled back. Ahuizotl? From the Daring Do series? Her father had told her he was real to warn her of the mad god’s deeds. He wanted control of the sun as much as any fae creature. “Ahuizotl? But—” She struggled to find anything worthwhile to say. “—he is a villain, Father. Evil! He has hurt so many people—”

“I know, Corona,” he said, his voice as cold as a gravestone. “I know.”

He turned to face her, his intense mask finally coming away. In its place was sorrow that led straight to his core. “I know. But he has a sun device that is nearly operational. The griffons have the last piece, hidden in our capital of Roc. We can study it, replicate it, until there is no single creature who raises the sun and the moon. We can save our world from eternal winter, or night, or desert, or anything else an ill mind could conjure up.”

Corona shook her head. “But Ahuizotl? Would he not be one of the creatures with control? And what of Luna?”

“Luna…” Andean winced. Corona felt the pain herself. They all owed Stella’s life to Luna. That was a debt that could never be repaid. “Luna cannot… will not agree to our course of action. She will pursue Ahuizotl with the intent to destroy him and his sun device.” He clenched a talon. “Please understand: I work with Ahuizotl only to bring the sun device to full operation, to stand as a strong sword against the wiles of the fae creatures. I would never ally with him against Equestria or any other nation he attacks.”

“But you’re still helping him.” Corona couldn’t look away from the sadness in her father’s eyes. Every last inch of his soul was crying out for peace where there could be none. Every last facet of his heart wished for rest that would not come. “You’re still f-facilitating his actions! It’s wrong, Father! How can you—?”

She stopped speaking when he brought his head to her level. He spoke quietly, at nothing more than a faint whisper nearly swallowed by the storm. “Because I will never, ever give you up. Not you, not Stella, not Felaccia. Where we stand now, this is the surest way to combat the pure evil of the fae folk.”

Andean drew back, sitting on his haunches. He gripped the hilt of his massive broadsword and slid it from its scabbard. The beautiful, brilliantly sharp blade glistened in the light of a lightning bolt. The gold pattern across the length of the sword glittered with a light of its own. “Euroclydon has been passed down for generations to the kings and queens of Felaccia. One day, I hope to pass it on to you. Though you shall be challenged for the crown, I believe in my heart of hearts that you shall seize the throne.”

Corona felt awe build up in her chest at the sight of the ancient blade. The spear on her back felt puny by comparison. “I think it’s a bit large for a griffon of my body type, Father. It seems more suited to a full-blooded Ursagryph.”

“That’s the beauty of it, Corona.” He set the sword between them, the hilt within easy reach of her. “Grasp the hilt and lift the sword.”

Corona set her spear gently beside her. She gave her father one last glance, to see if he was truly serious about all this. There was no mirth in his eyes. She coiled her talons around the handle and lifted.

The sword flashed and sparked with magic unknown to her. Metal all but peeled away, folding in on itself. What was once an immense weight soon fit into her grasp as easily as her personal spear haft. She held the sword in both talons, her eyes wide as she held the handle in a deathlike grip.

“Euroclydon itself is a burden,” Andean said, “but the burden suits itself to the shoulders that bear it.”

The sword was now twice as long as her arm. She gave it an experimental swing. The balance was unmistakably perfect. She held it above her head in a high guard. A tingle of magic ran from the hilt through her body, eventually connecting with her heart. It felt like a storm brewing.

“But it is a weighty burden all the same.” Andean watched his daughter test the sword, his eyes alight with pride. “A grave responsibility. To protect those you love, you must often do things which hurt. Sacrifices must be made. Drastic decisions must be seen through. Friendships must be tested… and often found lacking.”

She stopped her fluid movements. She held the sword in a lower guard, her red-tinged wings spread. “Father…” She held her tongue, regretting the thought and wishing to banish it from the conversation.

He breathed softly. He held his talon out, palm-up. “Please speak your mind, Corona. You’ve wanted to say something since this conversation began.”

She shut her eyes. The sword’s magic continued to mesh with her own internal heartbeat, interlocking them. Perhaps the feeling gave her the courage she needed. “You often say that the friendships of today… are the refuges of tomorrow.”

Andean thought for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Both can be overturned, unfortunately.”

She held the sword with the point angled towards the floor. She raised the hilt up for him to grasp it. “Do you really want to take refuge with Ahuizotl?”

He reached for the sword, but hesitated midway. He angled his head to the side to look his daughter in the eye. “Of course not. But what choice do I have? Until a better opportunity arrives, I must pursue the only avenue open to us.”

He took the sword and moved it towards its scabbard. It grew as he moved, eventually reaching its original shape just as he secured it to his side. “I hope you understand, Corona, because this is the sort of decision you shall make when you are queen.”

She picked up her spear and held it loosely. She stared at the beautiful, polished wood that made up its length. “I think I’d prefer my spear for the time being.”

Andean brushed a talon across her forelock. A small smile touched the corners of his beak. It vanished as he turned away and walked deeper into the airship.

Corona leaned her forehead against the viewing window. The cool glass soothed the headache that beset her. Thoughts swirled unbidden all the same, jumbling themselves into an unintelligible mess.

“How are weapons of iron and wootz supposed to fight fae?”

The chill of fear rattled her spine. She supposed they’d all find out, sooner or later.

In the meantime, the nightmares would only grow stronger.

***

Flurry Heart tossed and turned in her bed. She opened her eyes and saw darkness all around. She pulled the covers tighter, but it didn’t shut out the cold.

Mom and Dad were having Issues. Bad Issues. They weren’t talking with each other, and every time Flurry tried to talk with them, they were unavailable. In some other part of the castle, or talking with other ponies.

Flurry wanted to talk about so much. She wanted to talk about Spike’s injury. Or how much she already missed Aunt Yearling. Or how afraid she was of Ahuizotl. Or why the griffon princesses left. Or the changelings living in the castle.

She wished she was staying at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. They had a really cool two-story building downtown, the last vestiges of the once-vast Twilight Estate. It even had a back yard, which was really rare for a city so full of apartment complexes. Instead, she and her siblings were staying in Canterlot Castle; in the east wing, away from the changelings.

At least they weren’t in the same city as Merry anymore.

“Flurry?”

Flurry Heart rose her head above the covers and saw her little sister, Twilight Amore. The pegasus filly rubbed her eyes and clamped her jaw tight on the arm of a stuffed bear. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Flurry Heart shuffled over to make room for Amore. The little pegaus hovered up and flopped onto her back. Amore sighed and dragged a corner of the comforter up to her chin.

Flurry carefully tucked her oversized wings in. “You can’t sleep either, huh?”

Twilight Amore frowned. She hugged her bear close, pressing her nose against its head. “I think this is what Middle Child Syndrome feels like. Except we all get it right now. I feel like… something really bad happened to Mom and Dad while we were gone.”

“I don’t think it’s our fault.” Flurry shrugged. “They’ve just got things to work out.”

Amore shut her eyes. “I didn’t even get to hug Mommy.”

Flurry hadn’t hugged her either. Or Daddy. It was a keen ache in her chest and forelegs that could only be stilled by a close, gentle, loving embrace. It was the first time in memory that her parents hadn’t greeted her with a hug and a kiss on the forehead, or the nose, or the lips.

It felt wrong.

Flurry reached out and hugged her little sister, who sobbed into her shoulder. She held her younger sibling tight. Maybe it made it better, knowing her big sis was there for her.

This was their first time spending time together since Flurry had gone off to school. Flurry felt like it should have been a happier time.

“People think I got it all together,” Amore sniffled, “’cause I’m bossy and stuff. But… I’m scared, Flurry.”

She raised her head enough to share her horrified expression with her big sister. “Are—are Mom and Dad gonna get divorced?”

NO! No, no, no, no, no. “Th—they wouldn’t do that.” No, no, no, no, no, please Creator, no. “They wouldn’t do that to us. Or to each other. They love each other.”

“I k—know that.” Amore hid her face with a bundle of feathers. “So why does it hurt so much to think about it?”

Flurry rested her head on the pillow. She stared at the stars through the crack in the curtain. One glimmered especially brightly that night. “I guess it’s because of how much you love them back.”

Amore sniffled, her shoulders shaking with sorrow.

Flurry covered her with the comforter and sidled up next to her. She thought back to her last big nightmare, when Spike had come to comfort her. Maybe she could help Amore with the same thing? “We’ll have a sleepover together tonight. Just you and me. I’ll help you and you help me. Right?”

“O—okay.” Amore wiped tears away with her bear’s foreleg. “Thanks, Flurry.”

Flurry Heart covered exhausted eyes with her hooves. “Maybe we’ll even get some sleep. Someday.”

***

Twilight Velvet rubbed her head as she rested in her daughter’s throne. The open circle of thrones in the Ponyville Castle glimmered with the Fires of Friendship, doing nothing to sooth her. The work was only beginning, and there was still so much to digest.

She had no time to mourn her best friend.

More than anything, she was angry. Angry that she hadn’t been there. Angry that Ahuizotl’s smug face was still smiling all the way to Felaccia. Angry that her entire family was being pulled apart to different corners of the world. Twilight Sparkle was working on defense with Celestia and Luna. Shining Armor and his wife were dealing with something Velvet couldn’t begin to fathom. Night Light was tending to the grandkids in Canterlot Castle, far away from Ponyville.

Spike was headed to the dragon lands for healing.

Velvet had to check in with Care and Blankety in the morning, see if they were ready for their next mission. To see if Care thought Martial Paw was going to be a help or a hinderance.

If Martial hurt as much as Velvet did, she doubted she would consider him ready for combat. But she didn’t blame him either way.

“Ma’am?”

Twilight Velvet looked across the map to see Commander Skyhook, the captain of Twilight’s personal guard. The bat-pony saluted, his purple armor clinking merrily. “One of the prisoners insists on seeing you. Kiln says he has information about Merry Mare.”

Velvet propped her cheek on one hoof. “It couldn’t wait ‘til morning?”

“He was…” Skyhook gritted his teeth. “He was very insistent, Ma’am.”

Velvet stood and followed Skyhook to where they were keeping the prisoners. Twilight’s castle didn’t have a dungeon, of course, so they kept them locked in a spare bedroom on the second floor. The guards on either side of the door stood ready, and one opened the door at Velvet’s approach.

Inside, the first thing she saw was Rhombus, lying sideways on the bed and nursing his broken jaw. He gave her a once-over, his eyes lingering uncomfortably on certain areas, then let his head rest on the pillow. Kiln sat on a chair beside a corner desk, glass scattered around his hooves.

“Thankee for comin’.” Kiln’s eyes glared daggers at anything that moved. “So, ye may have surmised that I’d been communicatin’ with Poni.”

Sneaky as Caballeron’s crew was known to be, they’d strongly suspected it. Magic syphons were set up around the room to detect and disrupt any sort of magical communication. Apparently something got through, but was cut off in an instant. If the glass shards were any indication, the call was terminated with extreme prejudice. “Pocket-sized magic mirrors are expensive. Got some bad news?”

“Poni admitted to me,” Kiln said, his voice warbling, “that his wife Merry killed me own wife.”

“Merry Mare,” Velvet said, as though she didn’t already know, “former mayor of Ponyville?”

“One an’ the same.” Kiln leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “Frankly, I want vengeance.”

Velvet wrinkled her nose. Truth be told, she felt a very physical need to work towards putting somebody away. Whether that meant putting them in jail or the hospital… well, the lines were starting to grow fuzzy. Part of her wanted to charge right up to Merry’s front door and find out just what was going on. Another part of her said that this was pretty low priority considering Ahuizotl’s current warpath. “Kiln, unless you have more evidence, I can’t really do anything until we question her tomorrow.”

“Aye, of course ye have greater priorities than one dead mare from two decades ago.” Kiln scowled and crossed his forelegs across his broad chest. “But then, I didnae come to Twilight Velvet, Canterlot Police Chief, did I? I came to Twilight Velvet, Night of Counsel.”

Velvet didn’t dignify that with a response. She sat back and waited for the other horseshoe to drop.

“Merry Mare is more of a threat than Ahuizotl.” Kiln rubbed his nose and kicked a shard of glass across the room. “She’s allied with the Unseelie Court of Fae.”

What? How was that supposed to work? She was just an angry old lady, wasn’t she? “What do you mean?”

“She’s a siren, marm.” Kiln grinned wide, his teeth about willing to break from the force of his anger. “One o’ three deeply rooted in the culture of the Unseelie Court. She seeks to uproot Equestrian politics and rebuild the country with herself as its head. She’s a monster who murders or enslaves everybody who stands against her. It was she who orchestrated the assassination attempt on Celestia… and yer daughter.”

Twilight Velvet stared at the stallion, her breath short. She felt adrenaline coursing through her veins, magic shocking her fairy strings. Still, she couldn’t believe it. If Kiln was merely spouting hooey in his quest for revenge, the whole revelation was worthless. “That’s the most ludicrous thing I’ve heard all day. Without evidence—”

“Beggin’ yer pardon, marm.” Kiln’s bushy eyebrows lowered. “But if’n ye give a single darn for the sake of Equestria, ye’ll do well tae investigate her.”

Velvet snorted. “You didn’t give much of a darn until you found out she killed Amber—”

“For Poni’s sake!” Kiln smashed his hoof against the desk. The wood splintered. “Ye ken the ties of friendship, do ye nae? The ties of family? Well, they’ve just been broken beyond repair, marm. An’ now I’ll fight for me life until Amber’s murderer has been brought down.”

The burly guards surrounded Kiln and prevented further lashing out. The one-time companion of Caballeron lowered his head and allowed his hat to tumble to the floor. “Just… do it for Amber. Do it for Ember, me daughter. Do it for yer own families’ sake.”

He sent Velvet a final, smoldering glare. “Tread carefully. Merry isnae one tae be underestimated. Just now, I’ve practically signed me own death warrant.”

Velvet threw him a mocking salute—“Your country thanks you.”—and left through the door.

Skyhook followed along, slightly behind her. “What do you think?”

“I want it to be true, darn me.” Velvet hissed a low breath. “If he’s telling the truth, it’s the single greatest bit of news we’ve ever received regarding the Unseelie Court.”

Skyhook tilted his head to one side. “Miss Mare is currently a murder suspect. Perhaps during the investigation, a few clever ponies could look deeper into her affairs.”

“Sensible.” Velvet rolled her eyes up and to the side. “Only ponies you can trust, though. We really don’t know how far the conspiracy goes.”

“I’m well aware, ma’am.” Skyhook winced. “The whole thing with Caution still bugs me.”

Twilight Velvet stopped beside her daughter’s throne and picked up a coat she’d left there. She tapped her hoof on the armrest for a moment, then decided “to heck with it.” She slipped into the outerwear. “I’m going for a walk.”

Skyhook pursed his lips. He removed his helmet and shook out his shoulder-length dark purple mane. “Any particular reason?”

“I need to do a little snooping. At least get started on some sort of forward movement.” Velvet rubbed her chin, examining her options. “It’s just a walk around the neighborhood. Scope out the bar Scuttlebutt works at. See if I can’t stumble on something unseemly.”

Skyhook nodded slowly. “You shouldn’t be out there by yourself.”

“Send a few plainclothes soldiers to follow me.” She shook a bag of bits and stuffed it in her coat pocket. “We have plainclothes soldiers, right? That’s a thing we do?”

“Well, they can just take their armor off…”

“That’ll do.” Velvet winked at him. “Make sure they know to activate stealth mode, alright?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Ponyville was one of the more peaceful towns she’d been to. Even the night life, rowdy as it was, was muted compared to the likes of Manehattan and Canterlot. Only a single bar was open this late, and the coffee shop had long since closed its doors. The streetlamps still glimmered for the late-night walkers.

Velvet gave Ribbon Wishes, the town plumber, a nod as she passed. The more she stayed in Ponyville, the more she felt like she and Night Light could live there, once they both retired. It was a bit nicer weather-wise than the other choice: the Crystal Empire. The trade-off was proximity to the grandkids, but maybe Twilight Sparkle could be persuaded to move forward with her romantic relationships… Some day. Once she had romantic relationships.

“Stop it, Glasses!”

Velvet raised her head to see two young ponies leaving the local bar. The mare was a pretty young thing, and the stallion would have been quite handsome had he not been completely zonked. When Velvet heard the shouting, she began to move across the street to protect the mare, but hesitated when she saw that he was cowering away from her.

“You keep letting him get to you, after all this time!” The young mare was verging on tears, completely oblivious to her surroundings. “I don’t love that horrible stallion, I love you! And I’m tired of you forgetting that!”

Velvet moved herself behind a nearby bench. The mare hadn’t hit “Glasses” yet, so perhaps she didn’t need to step in. The instant it got physical, though…

“You need to take care of yourself!” The mare was trying and failing to shout over her own sobs. “You need to eat! You haven’t done anything but drink for days! It’s hurting you, Glasses!”

Glasses blinked owlishly at her. “Truly…”

“I’m done.” Truly raised her hooves and shook her head. “I need to go home. Just… done.” She walked away from Glasses, her hooves clicking against the sidewalk.

Glasses reached out for her, tears trickling from his eyes. “Truly—”

“I’m going home!”

Glasses stood alone, his body wobbling to and fro. Velvet sighed; she had to take him to the police station. He could rest there until he was sober enough to remember where his house was. She started across the street, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t have to drag him the whole way.

A tiny little pony with a rat-like smile slipped a foreleg around Glasses’ shoulders. “Hay, buddy, why don’t I take you home? You can send flowers to her tomorrow.”

Glasses nodded morosely. “Thanks, Scuttlebutt.”

Scuttlebutt? Twilight Velvet hid at the name of her quarry. There was Merry’s way-too-familiar companion. The pony that Silver Lance said had “wrong” magic. Velvet moved to the shadows and followed the two of them from afar, her curiosity carefully held in check by a growing sense of danger.

Glasses vomited twice along the road. Scuttlebutt was supportive, both figuratively and literally. He had much more strength than his skinny body would suggest. Changeling? Fae? Something worse? Was there anything worse?

The four plainclothes soldiers caught up the next street over, ready for action. She motioned for them to spread out. A pegasus flew to the rooftops, while a unicorn bent light around their body. The two earth ponies backed off to follow from a greater distance.

Velvet furrowed her brow; they’d reached Merry’s neighborhood. Maybe they’d get more than a head-start on their investigation.

Scuttlebutt stopped beside a dark side street between two close houses. He patted Glasses on the shoulder. “Well, I suppose this is the final stop.”

Glasses looked around, his eyes failing to focus. “This isn’t my house.”

“No.” Scuttlebutt grinned like a rat about to devour cheese. “But I thought I’d stop for a bite to eat.”

With the speed of a lightning strike, Scuttlebutt smashed Glasses’ head against the wall and dragged his limp body into the darkness.

Velvet gaped for only a moment. She shot forward, her hooves pumping. “Move in! Move in!”

A blazing spell from her horn illuminated the whole alley. Trash cans and wood piles decorated the narrow pathway, alongside the gnawed skeletons of various woodland creatures. A short distance away, frozen like a deer in a spotlight, was a horror beyond Velvet’s imagination.

There was no hair on the creature straddling Glasses. It was coated with pure white, smooth skin. Rather than hooves, each leg ended in a series of sharp claws. Its tail was a mere stub. It’s head was almost like a pony’s, save for the viciously sharp, fishlike teeth. Its eyes were large, black, and soulless.

Worst of all, she could see its throbbing heart within its gaping ribcage.

A flash from her horn surrounded Glasses with a shield, then repelled the sickening creature. The thing smashed against the far alley wall, bending and squishing like a rubber toy. Velvet tried to grasp it, but it slithered its way between the buildings.

“It’s a wight!” Velvet shouted to her companions. “I want that thing subdued now!”

As the pegasus soldier dove in for the attack, Velvet checked on Glasses. The stallion had a thick skull, so she had hope that the concussion was minor. She’d stopped the wight before it could attempt to feast, so he seemed to have no other injuries.

The pegasus screamed. The wight contorted its body into wild and impossible shapes, throwing its attacker off. Velvet mined her memory in a hurry, seeking information on how to combat such a creature.

Ice. If a wight was frozen, its body would shatter. But they didn’t want to kill it, they wanted to question it! It was elastic enough to escape just about any trap, no matter how airtight.

They’d have to batter it into submission.

The earth ponies charged down the alley, sending their shoulders into the wight’s torso as the unicorn held it steady. The monster howled and snapped its claws and teeth at them, inflicting numerous small injuries.

“Scuttlebutt!” Velvet shouted. “You’ll save yourself a lot of trouble if you surrender now!”

The wight’s voice was like a hoof breaking through a rotten log. “Get away while you still take breath!”

It slithered out of the unicorn’s grasp, then all but vanished into the shadows. Velvet charged in the direction he’d gone, her horn glowing brighter with every step. She caught mere glimpses of him turning corners, taking side-streets, and leaping between trees.

The last she saw of him was a leg slithering its way through one of Merry Mare’s windows.

Twilight Velvet hesitated on the front lawn. She turned to the pegasus and one earth pony. “Turvey, Trundle, you two take Glasses to the castle and keep him safe. Send help. At least one pony who knows an ice spell in case we can’t subdue the wight.” She looked to the other earth pony and the unicorn. “Jasper, Aura, you two with me.”

The first two left, and Velvet led the others to the front door. She rattled it with several knocks. “Royal Guard! Open up!” No time to spare. She signaled Jasper, and the hefty mare kicked the door down.

Twilight Velvet walked inside, her eyes bounding around the interior. Two stories and a basement. The kitchen lay straight ahead, the dining room lay to the left, and a sitting room to the right. From her vantage point, she could see that the upstairs held mostly bedrooms. A sobering thought hit; Merry probably hadn’t moved out of this house since she’d lost her family.

Hazy Aura lit his horn and used the spell to examine for any light-bending enchantments. The wight seemed to be out of sight and out of range. “I can’t see a thing, Lady Velvet. He’s got his hoofprints all over the house.”

“Routine visits.” Velvet bounded up the stairs and found the bedrooms empty of pony or monster. All the beds were still made up, so nobody had been dragged screaming from the covers. Sometimes, she had to appreciate the small miracles. “If she hasn’t noticed he’s a cannibalistic beast by now, I think she’s as suspicious as he is.”

“To be fair,” Jasper said, “the whole town’s been fooled.”

“But this lady spends hours at a time with him.” Velvet trotted down the staircase and into the kitchen. The oven was cold. The sink was dry. Nobody had used the room for several hours. “Basement. You first, Aura.”

He opened the door with a spell, keeping his distance. Scuttlebutt’s gasp could be heard near the foot of the staircase. Nails clattered against the floor, before his footsteps reached carpet. Hazy Aura took the steps two at a time, brightening the entire basement. Velvet followed close behind, with Jasper bringing up the rear.

It was a furnished basement, with a semicircle of couches surrounding a radio. Opposite the radio, beside a small walk-in closet, was an ornately carved full-length mirror. Scuttlebutt’s disgusting, elastic form could be seen scrambling towards it.

Twilight Velvet cast a firm, blue-colored shield around the creature. He pressed against the magic wall surrounding him, his blank eyes widening. Velvet grunted as the shocks from his struggle battered against her horn. “Not gonna hold him long!”

Hazy Aura released a burst of magic that blinded Scuttlebutt. The wight screeched and clawed at his face. Just as Velvet released the shield, Jasper rushed in to tackle the monster. He lay beneath the strong earth pony, short of breath and chittering in a ghastly language.

Velvet wiped sweat off her brow, taking in a slow breath. “You, Scuttlebutt, are under arrest.”

“What are you doing in my house?”

Twilight Velvet leaped back at the appearance of Merry Mare. The former mayor was well-dressed for the late hour, her hair coiffed and her cravat carefully tied. She looked at the three ponies over her glasses, her face severe. “Lady Velvet, unless something desperately urgent has happened, you cannot just barge into my home un—”

Jasper stepped aside to reveal the struggling wight. Scuttlebutt blinked at Merry, its voice strained. “The Mother! Help me! Please!”

Merry Mare curled back in absolute, unadulterated disgust. “My word! What is that thing?”

Velvet raised her head ever-so-slightly. “It’s Scuttlebutt. We found him attempting to cannibalize a local stallion. When he fled into your house, I thought you might be in considerable danger.”

“Th-thank you!” Merry moved to put as much space between herself and Scuttlebutt as possible. “Oh my. Thank you very m—”

Her absence left Scuttlebutt’s path to the mirror completely clear. He twisted his upper body around to squirm from Jasper’s grasp, then kicked back with all four legs. With his body free of the soldier, he sprinted forward like his rump was on fire.

He vanished into the mirror, leaving behind nothing more than a ripple.

Silence pervaded the basement, until Merry broke it with a single “Idiot.”

Velvet turned on Merry, standing as tall as possible in the hopes of intimidating the mare. “Care to explain what the heck just happened, Miss Mare?”

Merry sighed. She removed her glasses to polish them with a soft cloth. She eased them back onto her nose and shut her eyes. “It’s a long story, and I don’t think we have time before your reinforcements arrive.”

Twilight Velvet surrounded herself and the other two Royal Guardsponies in a multi-layered shield, made all the stronger by her being inside it. Merry raised an eyebrow, spun on her front hooves, and bucked the shield with all her might.

The shield and its three occupants were launched across the room, where they fell into the mirror’s liquid-like surface.

***

“Grandma!”

Flurry Heart bolted upright in bed, her chest heaving with unsuppressed sobs. Twilight Amore screeched as she, too, came awake. She looked at her older sister with wide eyes, clutching her stuffed bear tight. “Flurry?”

“It’s Grandma!” Flurry said, her words in a rush. “Merry Mare’s gonna hurt Grandma!”

Amore was out of bed and flapping her wings in an instant. “Well, come on! We gotta find a guard!”

They burst from the bedroom with hooves and wings pinwheeling. Their violent, screaming charge caught the attention of a passing maid, who they nearly bowled over.

“Whoa, kids!” The pegasus mare slid neatly out of their path. She spoke out of the side of her mouth. “With emotions like that, you’re liable to make the changelings riot.”

“Please, ma’am!” Flurry clutched at the maid’s dress. “We need to send a message to Ponyville right away!”

The maid gave them a small smile as her forehead wrinkled. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll help you with that. Call me Sky Wishes. I know a guy named Natter who can get you a message anywhere.”

***

Twilight Velvet spat grass and dirt out of her mouth. Her horn fizzled with the pain of having a spell crushed by sheer physical force. Her combat capabilities were hampered; she could manage a short-range teleport, maybe two. A shield was out of the question, considering what Merry had managed with a single buck. Velvet spun, scanning the area for any sign of her suspect-turned-foe.

Jasper lay against a tree trunk, out cold. Hazy Aura groaned and clutched his head, his horn also fizzling. The air around him twisted and danced as his camouflage spell went haywire.

They appeared to be in some sort of forest. Trees surrounded them, all healthy, strong specimens. Lines of gold snaked up and down the trunks, glimmering in the darkness. A few apples could be seen among the boughs, though most of the trees were bedecked with blossoms.

Velvet looked closer, and the shadows danced.

Vague shapes and monstrous silhouettes surrounded the three of them. Red eyes flashed. Purple fangs gnashed. Green claws thrashed. They disappeared the instant Velvet tried to focus on them, like glow-in-the-dark toys.

“Ah, ah-ah, ah, ah. Ah, ah-ah, ah, ah…”

Velvet’s breath caught in her throat. The song echoed from every corner of the grove. It tickled her spine. It grasped her brain and wrung its fingers through it. She covered her ears, but was unable to shut it out. It just kept growing louder, and deeper, and darker.

She had heard it before, but only as a warning. It was the Song of the Sirens.

Merry Mare walked slowly through the haze of smoke-like creatures. A yellow gemstone hung from her neck, radiating magic unknown. Her eyes held the same power; glowing bright. Boring their way into Velvet’s soul. Claiming her as their own.

Velvet turned away. Jasper had come to, and appeared completely entranced. Hazy Aura was drooling, his expression blank. Behind them, another gemstone shimmered in the dark, this one red. Two red eyes hovered above it, and a second voice joined the song.

“Ah, ah-ah, ah, ah. Ah, ah-ah, ah, ah…”

A third voice sounded, and Velvet felt her last hopes sink. There, to the rear, a blue gem and its owner’s shining eyes. A three-part harmony assailed Twilight Velvet. Her stomach twisted, her mind rebelled, and she latched on to the one target she could focus on: Merry Mare.

She charged at Merry with all the force of a one-mare army. She swung around to buck the siren full in the face.

Merry caught her hooves and casually tossed her aside.

Velvet ate dirt for the second time in as many minutes. She sprang to her feet, hoping that the blood rushing through her head could stave off the effects of the song. She launched a punch at Merry, who caught it out of the air.

Merry smiled at her. Velvet gaped in horror as fish-like spines and fin-like wings protruded from the siren’s back. Gils opened and closed along Merry’s neck. Scales materialized out of her coat, chilling Velvet’s hoof.

The siren opened her mouth, and a violently loud note picked Velvet up and tossed her across the clearing. Merry’s yellow amulet bathed her own body in its power, and a crystal formation fully encased her.

A large hoof smashed into the ground beside Twilight Velvet. She squirmed away from the attack, and brought the source into full view. Where once was Merry Mare, former Mayor of Ponyville, now stood a massive sea monster from the depths of her darkest fears. The half-pony, half-fish siren snapped its jaw at her. The gemstone which was once a necklace was now embedded into the neck of the creature.

“Ah, ah-ah, ah, ah. Ah, ah-ah, ah, ah…”

The power of the song materialized as yellow-tinged magic, swirling around Velvet’s torso and hooves. It gripped her and lifted her into the branches of the trees, where she could meet Merry eye-to-freakish-eye. Merry’s voice all but purred her song, creeping in Velvet’s soul.

“Face-to-face with defeat
Your heart is pitiful and weak
Equestria’s gonna fall
Now that you are under our thrall”

Merry Mare’s monstrous visage filled the sum total of Velvet’s view. It became the scope of her world, centered on her enchanting, yellow eyes and her silky, enticing voice.

“We are the lords of all creation
We can cow the greatest nation
We will wield the sirens’ song
Righting all we see as wrong

“Please don’t withhold your adoration
Just accept reanimation
We will wield the sirens’ song
Righting all we see as wrong”

“Oh-whoa, oh-whoa
Equestria’s gonna fall
Oh-whoa, oh-whoa
Now that you're under our thrall”

Velvet’s head lolled to the side. She couldn’t think. Not on her own. The song was overpowering. The atmosphere was stifling. She attempted to speak, but came up short.

Merry leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you. I have… other plans for you…

“Twilight Velvet, heed my command
Every whisper is a demand
Light reduced to shadow and song
Soon I’ll have you singing along!”

The last thing Velvet heard before losing consciousness was a single hushed command. “You must see to it that Ahuizotl is destroyed.”

She let Velvet drop limp to the floor and turned imperiously. “Scuttlebutt!”

Scuttlebutt skittered out from behind a tree, bowing low. “The Mother calls?”

“You are an imbecile!” Merry moved with practiced motions through the trees, never once brushing against them despite her newfound bulk. “You led them right to my house! And then right to my mirror!”

“I panicked!” Scuttlebutt clasped his claws together, all but praying. “I knew how… how vital to the cause I am! B-besides, I led Velvet right to you—”

“It’s too soon!” Merry roared. “The longer she’s under my control, the more chance she has of discovery!” She glared at him out of the corner of her eye. “They caught you attempting to eat a pony.”

“Please, Merry—”

“Somepony has to go to prison for that, Scuttlebutt.” Merry’s razor-sharp teeth ground against each other. “There’s no sweeping it under the rug this time.”

Scuttlebutt attempted to run, but he didn’t get far. Her magic enveloped him in an unbreakable vicelike grip. “No! You need me! You said it yourself!”

“That is correct. We will need you.” She brushed a hoof against the gemstone in her neck. “And the Equestrian Penal System will undoubtedly keep you nice and cozy until such an occasion.”

Blinding magic washed over her again, and she emerged in her original body once more. “If you breathe a word of this, I shall stretch your body to the absolute limit, and then take one step more. Are we clear?”

Scuttlebutt stared into the face of the middle-aged mare and swallowed hard. “As crystal.”

***

Twilight Velvet groaned as she got to her hooves. That last punch had really taken it out of her. Maybe she was getting a little old. Just a little.

She surveyed the scene in an instant. The mirror Scuttlebutt had been thrown against had shattered completely. The couches in Merry’s basement had been scattered, ripped, and otherwise made unusable. The mare herself was curled in the corner, clothed in her pajamas, just as when they’d arrived. She stared disbelieving at the pale monstrosity that lay beneath Jasper’s hooves. The strong earth pony soldier held Scuttlebutt down with three hooves, while the last hoof clamped his mouth shut.

Hazy Aura’s voice came from the staircase. “Ha! The Cavalry is here! Down here, Skyhook!”

Velvet trotted to Merry’s side and offered the terrified mare a hoof. “Here. Looks like the worst is behind us.”

Merry Mare took the hoof and slowly got to her feet. Her limbs were weaker than Velvet would have figured. A life of office work did that to a person, she guessed. “Th-thank you. Thank you so much.”

She stared at Scuttlebutt with a queasy expression. “I—I should have known. How—?”

“Don’t bother yourself with it,” Velvet said. “He had the whole town fooled.”

Several guardsponies tromped down the staircase, led by Skyhook. The commander hesitated at the sight of Merry. Another glance brought Scuttlebutt into view. “Secure the prisoner.”

A piece of paper he carried in his hoof vanished beneath his chest plate as he approached Velvet and Merry. “So… a wight.”

“First one we’ve seen in ages,” Velvet said. Her keen mind pulled up a snipped of trivia she’d read a few years back. “They mostly hang around Beefland, near the Barrow Downs. I think the last ones in Equestria were banished back when Celestia first took the throne.”

Skyhook’s eyes flicked between Velvet and Merry. “Are you alright, Miss Mare?”

“As fine as I can be,” she sighed. “At least Velvet was quick enough to react. I don’t know what I would have done without her.”

Paralyzing chains were wrapped around Scuttlebutt’s rubbery limbs. The wight’s hideous face held no expression as he was dragged upstairs at spearpoint.

Merry’s voice was hushed. “I don’t think I can sleep after that. Anybody for tea?”

“Sorry, ma’am.” Skyhook dipped his head cordially. “I’ve got a prisoner to incarcerate. And Velvet—”

“I’m probably just going to collapse into bed.” Velvet smiled at Merry. “Sleep or no, I need a chill pill.”

“Suit yourselves.” Merry nibbled her bottom lip. “Do you mind if I stay at the castle tonight? I don’t… I don’t feel safe here.”

“By all means,” Velvet said. Skyhook raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

The soldiers locked up Merry’s house in short order. Skyhook busied himself with seeing Scuttlebutt shipped off to Canterlot as soon as equinely possible. Merry holed up in a plush guest room. Velvet herself headed to her special room, set aside by Twilight and Spike for their mother.

She collapsed face-first into bed and let exhaustion take her.

***

Rhombus snored in the middle of the bed, all his limbs spread out like a cat’s. This left Kiln with the uncomfortable chair and its far-too-small desk. It was just as well; he wasn’t going to be able to sleep in the slightest.

He stared at the scattered shards of magic mirror and growled. Merry would get hers. And maybe Poni would, too. The lies, the secrets, the pain.

Amber Waves would hate him if she could see him now. His daughter, too. Carrying on with his worthless quest and his ridiculous friendship. He was left with only two things: Vengeance for Amber, and a comfortable life for his wee Ember.

The door clicked open. Kiln turned; Velvet probably had more questions. “Wot did ye think ye’d find all o’—”

Merry Mare herself stood in the small bedroom. She kicked the door shut, and the lock set in place.

Kiln tried to scream, but a tightness wrapped itself around his throat. Hooves clawed at his neck, but there was no physical force. There was nothing to fight against.

Merry’s voice was hushed. “I thought you might be here. Unfortunately, I can’t outright asphyxiate you with poison joke without arousing suspicion.”

His lungs burned as the edges of his vision blackened. She had cut off all airways. He slumped to the floor, scattering glass shards.

“I’m forced to take more subtle steps lately.” She laid a hoof on his forehead. “With Velvet and anybody else who suspects what’s really going on.”

She patted his cheek as unconsciousness took him. “You’re going to help me find Poni’s missing heart. And then you’re going to forget everything I’ve ever done.”

***

Skyhook glanced back at the castle as the prisoner carriage rolled close. He snuck the piece of paper from his breastplate and read it over once more.

To Commander Skyhook.
Ponyville Castle.
Flurry Heart prophetic dream.
Twilight Velvet in danger.
Merry Mare attacking.
Help immediately.

Natter

“I’m sorry, Flurry,” Skyhook whispered, his heart dropping out of his chest. He shredded the paper so that Merry didn’t have a single chance to find it. “I think I was too late.”

“Commander Skyhook!”

Skyhook looked back to see Coldstone hustling towards him. The massive crystal pony saluted as he drew near. “Sir! Kiln Stovepipe escaped during the scuffle at Merry Mare’s house!”

“What?” Skyhook’s eyes shot to the crystalline towers of the castle. Was it Merry’s doing? “And Rhombus?”

“Still there, sir. Conked out like nothing’s happened.”

That was good at least. Honestly, between the two of them, Rhombus scared Skyhook more. “How did Kiln escape?”

“Seems he had some sort of invisibility potion.” Coldstone waved a hoof. “He had a carriage waiting for him, too. Maybe he and Scuttlebutt were in cahoots?”

“That—” Didn’t make sense with what he knew. But if Merry was behind it… Maybe he couldn’t trust Coldstone anymore. Maybe he couldn’t trust anybody. “—is a possibility. Attempting to shift the blame on Merry when Scuttlebutt was the real threat.”

Skyhook had to talk to Twilight Sparkle and Celestia. And Luna and Cadence. And Shining Armor and Stonewall. And anybody else who could possibly fight a siren.

Skyhook drooped as Scuttlebutt was loaded onto the carriage. “Ahuizotl picked the exact worst time to attack, you know that?”

“Yes, sir.” Coldstone gave the wight a swift boot as he passed. “That’s for sure, sir.”

Author's Note

Merry's song is based on and adapted from "Under Our Spell" From My Little Pony: Rainbow Rocks.

The Bald-Faced Truth

Luna’s golden armor shimmered with a faint enchantment as she clasped the helmet. The Buttercup’s Folly, flagship of the Equestrian Navy, rocked beneath her hooves. It had been a hard night, battering their way through the storm thrashing the sea between Equestria and Felaccia. The sailors fought tirelessly to keep them moving forward and above the waves. But the morning had come.

The sun rose above the horizon, guided by Twilight Sparkle’s horn. She had remained back in Canterlot with Celestia, with the intent to keep the country running smoothly. That, and to wait for Spike’s health to return.

Luna commanded a navy of five ships of various classes and sizes. Magic rods sat atop the gunwales. Sails billowed, aided by strong wings crafted by weather pegasi. Helmsponies and boatswains shouted back and forth, keeping each other up-to-date. Salt hung in the air.

It had been a long time since Luna had sailed. Very rarely did she ever get out on the water, and when she did, it was part of some risky mission or another. In the old days, when she and Celestia sought out the scattered Elements of Harmony, the sea had become a second home to them. Not a very comfortable or friendly home, if she was honest, but home nonetheless.

The “old” days, she thought with a sigh. More than a thousand years ago. Even thirteen years after her return, she still wasn’t used to the idea.

“The sunlight should keep the Krakens in the deep ocean,” she said to the captain of the Buttercup’s Folly. “However, I still want hourly soundings in case one of them is hungry enough to bother an entire navy.”

“Yes, Princess.”

She stared out over the open ocean before them. They were perhaps a day away from Felaccia, having already travelled for an entire day. They were without a doubt more than half a day behind Ahuizotl. He would reach the griffon kingdom long before they did.

Her navy would not be allowed into Felaccia, Luna knew. Not while Andean and Ahuizotl parleyed.

“Airship approaching at six-o’-clock!”

Luna looked over her shoulder and saw the Vanishing Point sailing through the blue sky. “Clear the main deck of the Seaspray!”

The Seaspray was a massive barge, slow in speed, but able to hold several small airships on its main deck. A spot was cleared, and the Vanishing Point quickly nestled itself down. Captain Carrot and Blankety Blank disembarked first, followed closely by Apple Bloom. Martial Paw remained on board, directing the refueling of the engines.

Luna glided over to the Seaspray and greeted the new arrivals with a nod. “No time for pleasantries. I need you all in my cabin posthaste.” She set her eyes on Martial and raised her voice enough to be heard. “All of you.”

Martial bobbed his head without looking, then hopped down to join the others. A quick cloudwalking spell was cast on Apple Bloom and Care, and the two ships were connected with a gangplank of clouds. They hustled wordlessly into the main cabin. Luna locked the door.

“I will make this to-the-point.” Luna took a seat at the head of a large dining table and motioned for them to find a place. “We are in dire straits. Ahuizotl will reach Felaccia before we do; that is simple fact. We will not be allowed to pursue him into the country. That leaves us with the option of waiting outside of Felaccian waters until he leaves. Then we can resume our chase.” She tapped her forehooves together. “Or, we can do something very illegal.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Apple Bloom’s saddlebags clinked as she leaned forward. Luna could see several potion bottles of various colors gathered close. “All due respect, Princess Luna, but that’s talkin’ crazy.”

Luna gave her a sharp look, which ended Apple Bloom’s protestations rather quickly. “Captain Carrot, Agent Blank, and Mr. Paw shall enter Felaccia in secret, and there take steps to rescue Button Mash and Sweetie Belle from the clutches of Ahuizotl. I will task you with also sabotaging the sun device, but only as a secondary objective. The hostages come first.”

“I believe that Ahuizotl should be our main target.” Martial Paw drummed his talons on the table. “If he escapes again, it will be a disaster.”

“Right now, that is for me to decide.” Luna folded her forelegs. A slight chill entered the room as she sent small glimmers of magic through her horn. “And my say in the matter is final. The hostages are of the utmost importance. Rescue them, and we can iron out the details later.”

“It’s Sweetie Belle’s singin’ that lets Ahuizotl control the hearts,” Apple Bloom said, her head low. “We rescue her, and his whole operation’s dead.”

“D-delayed, not dead.” Blankety tapped his black, scraggly horn. “The s-siren’s song isn’t c-completely unique. And there might be other ways to sway hearts.”

Martial intertwined his talons and tilted his head, allowing one wide-set eye to look directly at Luna. “There’s only one way this ends.”

“I agree.” Luna spread her wings ever-so-slightly, outmatching Martial’s imposing size. “However, how it ends is just as important as when it ends. Sweetie Belle, as an equine being, cannot be replaced. You shall rescue her.”

Blankety bowed his head and gave her a faint nod. Martial glowered and shrunk back, his attention apparently focusing on a floorboard to the left of his paw. Care could only shrug at Luna, offering a pittance of a smile.

Apple Bloom shifted her saddlebags and let them drop to the floor. “So… you didn’t say I was going with them.”

“No. You will not accompany them.” Luna glanced at each of the others around the table, one after the other. “They have a very real chance of being discovered and imprisoned. Care and Blankety would be tried for espionage, while Martial would be charged with violating his banishment. I will not put you through such a thing, Apple Bloom.”

Apple Bloom scrunched her muzzle. “But the whole dang reason I came was to help Sweetie an’ Button! Ain’t the case? I can’t just sit on my hooves while they’re still in danger!”

Luna’s tongue was as sharp as the crack of a whip. “Allow me to speak and perhaps you shall understand.”

The whip did its damage, and Apple Bloom’s ears drooped as her expression sagged. “I’m sorry. I just… really wanna help them.”

Luna softened her own expression and allowed the iron in her voice to be warmed at the core. “I know, Apple Bloom. You are passionate, and that is a good thing. But if we do not temper our passions with rationality, they shall consume us. Turn us into something we despise.” She lingered on Martial for a moment. He gave no indication that he was even listening. “You shall remain with me. If Ahuizotl should flee, we shall be waiting to intercept him. Will you join me in my mission to put this ages-long race to an end?”

“Of course.” Apple Bloom nodded, though Luna could see the pain in the depths of her eyes. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

“Then it is settled.” Luna pointed her horn towards Care. “Captain Carrot, you and your troops are dismissed.”

***

Caballeron had been quiet the past couple of days, even as cooped up as the three of them were. He responded in grunts and single-syllable words. He wouldn’t even look at the Painted Ones who brought them food. Every once in a while, he would step out to wander around the Hesperus Mactans.

Button didn’t especially mind; a conversation with Caballeron was pretty low on his list of priorities. No, his priority was rationing out what little ambrosia they had left. Sweetie needed a specific dose once a week to strengthen her fairy strings. Caballeron’s chest wound was still deep, even if it had been closed up. Button was forced to heal the old-fashioned way, allowing the bruising to fade on its own time.

In short, life sucked.

As he was digging through his saddlebags, he stumbled upon the old Joyboy he’d brought from home. He clicked the power on only to find that it was completely drained. Dead weight. “Groovy…”

It was surprising how much of the ship they’d been given free reign of. As long as they didn’t go near the bridge, the engine room, Ahuizotl’s quarters, or the cargo bay, they were left unhindered. Granted, there was very little reason to move around, since all they got out of it was the passionate glares of the Painted Ones and the mechanical chitter of the Strutters.

That, and access to the “facilities.” Yes, those facilities. The shampoo was cheap and the water was cold, but darned if it didn’t feel good to get clean for the first time in ages.

Button snorted; of course even giant death machines needed a bathroom.

Sweetie had remarked that there were more female Painted Ones than she’d originally thought. They were all still earth ponies, and all of them were equal levels of peeved. The strange thing was that as the days passed, fewer Painted Ones could be seen, while more Strutters appeared. Button didn’t know whether they were being forced into the automatons or not, and he wasn’t sure which option was more terrifying.

Ahuizotl grew more agitated the closer they got to Felaccia. Four of his most trusted lieutenants had gone missing the first night, with no sign as to where they’d wandered off to. A strange presence followed him around the hallways, like a ghost. Sometimes, when Button wasn’t terrified out of his mind, he noticed a green glow coming from around the corner. It was always just out of sight. Always just out of reach. At that point, he resumed being terrified out of his mind.

Caballeron slid open the window panel, shattering Button’s introspection. The grizzled old doctor lit a cigarette and squelched the match against the floor. “Have a look, kids.”

Button was so shocked by Caballeron’s sudden verbosity that he nearly forgot to wrinkle his nose at the cigarette’s acrid stench. He glanced at Sweetie, shrugged, and moved beside Poni. A glance out the window sent some slight sense of joy pumping through his heart: Land.

Sweetie came close beside him. She pushed her frameless glasses higher on her nose and let out a happy squeak. “We made it.”

“Oh, that we have,” Caballeron said, his voice all gravel and nicotine. “We’ve made our journey through Hell to find a yet deeper Hell.”

Button pressed his nose against the glass. Unfortunately, it didn’t make his view clearer. “That’s Felaccia?”

“The land of glory-seeking warmongers.” Caballeron grimaced, and a trail of smoke escaped through his teeth. “Stifled beneath the smothering mother that is Equestria. They’re looking to break free.”

Sweetie frowned at him. “Equestria and Felaccia are friends.”

“People can be friends, nations cannot,” Caballeron said. “All alliances are rendered moot after what we’re about to do today.” A smile grew on his muzzle, lacking warmth or mirth. “But the approach is pretty, if nothing else.”

Button Mash stared across the ocean, and beheld a new nation for the first time in his life.

The water ended at a jagged cliff face, battered smooth near the bottom, craggy and mossy near the top. The size of it was mountainous, rising high above their heads even while aboard the flyder-shaped airship. A glint of light caught his eye, drawing him to the ocean’s surface. Several boxes floated in the water, glistening in the sun. “What’re those?”

Caballeron followed the young stallion’s hoof. “Griffon seafaring warships.”

“Really?” Button Mash narrowed his eyes. He could spot rivets holding plates together, and open spaces where weapons lay at the ready. “It looks like they’re made of metal.”

“Metal ships?” Sweetie Belle squinted at the gray boxed drifting in the currents. “They have to weigh tons! How can they float?”

“Buoyancy’s about more than weight, Miss Belle.” Caballeron tapped his nose. “I wager an Equestrian barge weighs five times as much as one of those. The Ironclad warships do indeed float, and a bit more besides.”

Caballeron raised his head and indicated they should look forwards. “But enough about that. Look.”

Button could only gape. It looked as though a massive talon had scraped a gap through the cliffside. Water flowed from an inland river, surrounded on either side by walls of sheer rock. An archway spanned the gap, on which griffons could be seen marching back and forth, a variety of weapons at the ready. An airship maneuvered out of the entryway and came alongside the Hesperus Mactans.

To either side of the place where the river met the sea, carved from the top to the bottom of the cliffs, were two statues. One was of a lion sitting proud, and the other was an eagle with its wings folded. Both held crowns atop their brows. The eagle’s feathers were chiseled out individually, and the lion’s fur was just as detailed. The statues faced each other, guarding the entrance to Felaccia.

A shadow fell over them, and the scope of the monument hit Button like a ton of bricks. The path through the rock was large enough for the Hesperus Mactans to pass unhindered.

The gap widened as they carried on. Below, the river was speckled with spikey outcroppings rising from the waves. Rapids churned and gushed. A small current of safe waters snaked through the passage, enough for two ships to run side-by-side, but not much more.

After hundreds of meters of pure stone walls, they broke through to the other side.

“Welcome,” Caballeron said, “to Roc.”

Button beheld a lake as large as the city of Cloudsdale in its heyday. The stone walls sloped inward, forming a caldera around the waters. Buildings were built or carved from the stone, and they stretched from the peaks of the cliff faces to the shallows of the lake. Gardens and orchards were built in steps, each level having a different crop. Fishing boats puttered around, hauling nets. A heard of Archaeopteryx ran along a circular track while griffon farmers guided their progress.

Great boulders hovered overhead, their undersides glistening with gilded magic. Bridges of rope and wood connected them, along which griffons flew or climbed. Atop these boulders, Button saw watchtowers, weapon emplacements, training grounds, and other military miscellanea. Airships were moored, among them the truly astonishing Corona and Stella. The cigar-shaped capital ships were accompanied by many, many flying boulders, each with a different purpose. One off-loaded cargo. One refueled the engines. One checked for rips and tears.

In the center of the lake, a mountain rose. Its peak had been worn down and carved into spires and battlements. Stained glass windows shone from among the outcroppings. A gate large enough to admit a dragon was barred with iron alloys.

Not a brick could be seen anywhere. The griffons had not built up, but had dug down.

On the far side of the mountainous castle, another statue had been carved. This was a full-blooded griffon, having aspects of both eagle and lion. It sat regally, its wings folded and its talons held outward like a scale. The crown was made of the same magical material that caused the boulders to fly. The Hesperus Mactans approached the statue, angling for its left claw.

The last view Button got before the flyder spun around was of Andean Ursagryph. The king stood with various other griffons in the palm of the left talon, lifting a claw in welcome.

Caballeron situated a white Ponyma hat on his head and slid the window shut. “Come on. Ahuizotl insists that we all be there.”

“Huh?” Button Mash reeled from all he’d seen. This was only one city in Felaccia. What were the others like? Were they all in caldera lakes? Were flying rocks just a thing in Felaccia? How long did it take to carve the castle, let alone the danged statues? “W-what does he want with us?”

“Sweetie for her songs. Me for my knowledge of the sun device.” Poni gave Button a soft double-tap on the cheek. “You for the leverage.”

Button pouted. “I meant a little more immediately.”

“Answer’s the same.” Caballeron tossed him his saddlebags. “Come now.”

They came to the cargo bay, where the sun device was kept. Painted ones swarmed the deck, surrounding Ahuizotl himself. He was decked out in all his grandeur, delusional or otherwise. The breastplate ornamented with gemstones. The twin Wyrmslayer swords on his back. The Spade of Hearts sheathed over his shoulder. Ahuizotl turned to them and flexed a claw. “My day of reckoning approaches.”

“You can say that again,” Sweetie muttered.

Ahuizotl directed them to climb onto a platform, which was lowered through the cargo bay doors. They landed solidly on the left talon of the griffon statue. Even with all the griffons and ponies on the massive limb, there was room to spare.

Button scratched his unshaven whiskers self-consciously. He actually wasn’t planning on being in the presence of royalty that day, as odd as it may seem. Looking at the well-armed griffons on the far side of the talon, he felt truly and wholly inadequate.

At the center of the griffons was King Andean himself, several times the size of most griffons, let alone a pony like Button. The sword at his side was so long, he could have used it to bridge a stream. A billowing black beard, a head devoid of feathers, a wingspan to put an alicorn to shame…

Button decided to look away from the king and see what other intimidating creatures he might be afraid of. Ah, there, flanking the king. Two griffons nearly as big as Andean, their hindquarters similarly bear-like, stared ahead with a predatory eye. One had a double-headed axe slung over his shoulder, the other carried a cross-shaped halberd.

The other griffons—about a dozen, all told—were a variety of smaller body-types. The apparent leader was a younger griffon, with gray-flecked feathers and a black rump. These griffons all carried the new-model volleygun, though melee weapons could be seen tucked into their belts.

Caballeron must have noticed Button staring, because he muttered just loud enough for him and Sweetie to hear. “Those are the Blitzwings, Andean’s personal guard. Their captain is Crested Barbary, a second cousin of the royal family.” He indicated the giants flanking the king. “Those are two of the Ursagryph clan. If you want to keep power in Felaccia, you need the support of the longest-lived, most influential of the clans.”

Though the air was filled to the brim with tension, it heightened even more as Ahuizotl descended from the Hesperus Mactans. The immortal mad god’s posture was regal—though to Button’s mind, immensely pompous. The platform settled down on solid stone, the monster departed, and the mechanical flyder lifted off to nestle against the stone on the far side of the lake.

Andean strode forward. The Blitzwings and Ursagryph guards remained where they were, covering every avenue of attack. Ahuizotl also moved forward after gesturing to the Painted Ones to stay back.

“King Andean, wisest among the nations!” Ahuizotl crowed his greeting with a sneered grin. “I was beginning to fear no one would take me up on my offer, but here we are!” His clawed tail snaked around to pull the Spade of Hearts from its sheath. He lay it between himself and Andean, then tilted his head down. “I present the proof of my words: The Spade of Hearts, the very key to activate…” He swung an arm out to point at the idling flyder Strutter. “The Sun Device!”

Andean took the Spade in his talons. It nearly disappeared in the midst of his palm.

“Now it is up to you,” Ahuizotl said, gripping his fist tight. “You hold the last piece of the puzzle, with which we shall throw off the shackles of Celestia and her alicorn brethren.” The mad god’s eyes were alight with excitement as he watched Andean examine the dagger. “The sun shall belong to us.”

Andean glanced at Button, Sweetie, and Caballeron out of the corner of his eye. Just that little bit of attention nearly sent Button to his knees in terror. “I have yet to see your device in operation, Ahuizotl.” Andean set the dagger on the ground and rested his talon on the hilt of his sword. “I have yet to see it operate without the use of murder as its power source.”

“Murder, King Andean? You wound me.” Ahuizotl pressed a claw against his breastplate. “They are a small sacrifice to pay for the liberation of our world.”

“Liberation?” Andean smirked. “I have seen a great many evils perpetrated in the name of liberty. Let us not muddy the waters with flowery speech and pointless platitudes. We both know what your ultimate goal is, Ahuizotl. You seek godhood, but that is not something I shall submit to.”

Ahuizotl slid the Spade of Hearts into its sheath. His smiling countenance faded away with each moment that passed. “Is that so?”

“You doubt this?” Andean glanced back at his Blitzwings, more to punctuate his point than to check their readiness. “I feel we would be better suited to an alliance if we could be honest with each other. I am merely seeking security should the alicorns fall. Should you betray me in your quest for power over all peoples, you shall subsequently face the might of the entire Felaccian military.” Before Ahuizotl could reply, Andean cut him off. “Neither of us can move forward from this point unless we cooperate for the time being. We both require a sun device. We both have but a small piece of the overall puzzle.”

Andean shuffled back a step and gestured to the stone-faced, axe-wielding Ursagryph. “I’m certain our lawyers can iron out the details, but for now I must know… will you cooperate?”

Ahuizotl forced a smile past his sneer. If Button ignored the boiling oil just beneath the surface, he thought it almost looked sincere. “Of course, King Andean. Without a doubt, we shall have our accord.”

Andean gave him a solid, solidifying nod. “Then I shall give you the requested tour.”

***

To Sweetie Belle, it felt a little like being in Canterlot Castle. The architecture was far more gray and cold, being hewn from stone instead of marble. Besides that, though, there were a few comforts of home. Colorful tapestries lined every wall. Empty, old suits of armor stood sentinel. Stained glass windows shone in the sunlight, depicting images of griffons doing heroic deeds.

At least she assumed they were heroic. The scene of a griffon king cutting off a dragon’s head was suspect. The griffon’s swords were curved, just like Ahuizotl’s.

Exactly like Ahuizotl’s. Sweetie prayed that Spike was alright.

Soldiers stood guard at every doorway, their spears, bows, and swords at the ready. Their attitudes were very much like the guardsponies back home; calm, strong and assured. Sweetie would have found herself reassured, had she not been held captive by them. Some small part of her hoped this was an elaborate trap by King Ursagryph, and the guards would pounce at a single command to lay waste to Ahuizotl’s forces.

The rescue didn’t come, of course. Though Felaccia and Equestria were on friendly terms, there was something more important at play. The Sun itself. At there Sweetie Belle was, at the center of it all.

Button Mash walked close beside her, putting himself between her and the nearest warrior. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates, to reference the old cliché. He jumped from object to object, studying intently. Searching for a way out? Or just awaiting the executioner’s axe?

Her stomach churned at the very thought. And, since misery loves company… “You okay?” she whispered.

Button’s ear twitched towards her. His voice shook as he muttered back. “A-ask me again when we’re out of this mess.” He turned his face fully towards her, and his countenance changed ever-so-slightly. A bit of fire sparked behind his eyes. “I know we’re probably the safest we’ve been the entire trip. There’s no way they’d kill two ponies in Felaccia.”

Caballeron leaned his head between them. “One pony, on the other hoof…”

Button rolled his eyes. “We’re fine. I’m fine. It’s fine. We’re. Just. Fine.”

“Aye, she’s fine.” Caballeron indicated Sweetie with a shake of his neck. “And I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about, boy.”

Sweetie snorted. She fought to keep her voice low as the griffon guards peered at them. “I’m sure he’s real touched.”

“At this moment, he’s only alive to keep you in line, Miss Belle.” Caballeron scratched his stubbly beard. The lines and creases on his face deepened as he gazed ahead down the hallway. “The instant a better option presents itself…” He drew a line across his throat.

Button’s brown cheeks paled a shade. “I don’t suppose you have a plan?”

“The plan is to persevere, to observe—” Caballeron tilted his head back and slowed his steps. “—and to see what King Ursagryph has in store for us.”

Sweetie turned forward to see what he was looking at. King Andean led the procession up to a large, dark stone door. Very little light illuminated this portion of the hallway. The shadows served to enhance the image carved into the door, highlighting its details and intricacies.

It was a set of double-doors, arched at the top. The left held a crowned lion, and the right an eagle, just like the statues at the entrance to Felaccia. These images each had a leg outstretched, which crossed in the middle. The lion’s free paw held a dagger, and the crossed limbs each had a deep wound. Their blood mingled and dribbled down into a basin at their feet.

“In times of myth,” King Andean said, “Daphnes, King of Red Lions, and Thorondor, Lord of Eagles, united their kingdoms in mind, body, and spirit. What lies beyond is our most sacred and precious history.” Andean turned to each of them to give them an equal measure of his stern glare. He lingered especially long on Ahuizotl. “Do not touch anything beyond these doors. Do not share what you see beyond these doors. Is that clear?”

In turn, they all agreed. Even the mad god bowed his head solemnly.

Andean gripped the crossed arms and pulled. The muscles on his back tensed and rippled as he hefted the enormous blocks of solid stone. A seam appeared at the center of the arm wounds, then deepened as the ancient kings were separated. The passage beyond lay dark and cold, save for the light of Andean’s torch. The griffon king moved in slowly, and the rest of the group easily kept pace.

The path angled downward, deeper into the core of the mountain. The air was stale and dusty, smelling of something faintly foul. Sweetie couldn’t put her hoof on what it reminded her of, only that it was awful. Two other griffons also carried torches, so there was plenty of light to see the plain chiseled walls surrounding her.

Then holes began to appear in the walls. They were too dark to see into at first, but as she got closer, Sweetie could see cloth. Something gold and valuable glittered in the flickering light. She lifted her head as high as she could to see inside.

A griffon skeleton gazed at her with empty eye sockets, a cadaverous grin etched into its beak.

Sweetie’s cry of disgust and horror echoed in the small passage. She stumbled back against Button’s chest, squelching her own shriek with her hooves. She shut her eyes tight to banish the sight, but the afterimage of the torch’s glow had burned it into her eyelids.

Button wrapped his forelegs around her shoulders and held her tight. His voice rose above the annoyed moans of the griffon soldiers. “H-hey, can we just not? Maybe warn a guy?”

A huge presence loomed overhead. Sweetie opened her eyes to see King Andean staring at them with keen disapproval dripping from his beak. “These catacombs hold the bodies of ancient griffon kings. You would do well to respect them.”

“W-we will,” Button said. “B-but you can’t blame us for being surprised.”

Andean furrowed his brow. He sighed lightly through his nose, then resumed his slow processional.

Sweetie’s heart thundered in her chest. She swallowed the nerves and looked back at the dead king. Cobwebs spanned between his ribs. Faded red cloth clothed his lower section, and a sword had been cradled in his scraggly talons. There was nothing to fear from the lifeless pile of calcium. Nothing at all.

That did not stop the creepy-crawlies from running rampant up and down her back.

However, it was alleviated somewhat by the sensation of Button’s chest against her coat. He whispered, the tremble in his voice having travelled all the way to his hooves. “You gonna be okay?”

“No.” Sweetie looked over her shoulder to see Ahuizotl glaring at them. “But there’s nowhere else to go.”

The further they walked, the more bare corpses they found. Their jewelry and weapons became all the finer with each passing king. Each sword held a different shape, with a different pattern of gold within the iron of the blade. Each crown grew more ornate and stately, gemstones embedded all around the circumference. Names were carved above the tombs in a language Sweetie couldn’t begin to guess.

Sweetie chanced a look into a tomb and instantly regretted it. The skull had been smashed to pieces, and what little remained had been arranged at the top of the headless body in a macabre puzzle.

“As more kings passed, the griffons delved deeper.” King Andean spoke with a heaviness on his breath. He glanced to each tomb he passed, paying each a measure of respect. “The catacombs sank further into the mountain, until we unearthed the ancient ruins. They had been thought destroyed in the pony slave uprising, but luck was on our side. Though the ancient changeling city fell, the very heart of the complex remains.”

The corridor ended with one last tomb. This one lay empty, save for a robe and a crown. Andean paused beside it, and waited for everyone to gather around.

“This is the tomb of Berkut, the last of the Paw dynasty.” Andean touched his free talon to the hilt of his sword. “There is no body because Celestia vaporized him with the light of the sun. Once we carved his place in these tombs, we also uncovered the changeling ruins.”

Andean handed his torch to the captain of his guard. “Fitting that the death which taught us to fear the sun also gave us the means to seize it.” He drew his sword and jabbed it into the bare wall. Sweetie heard a click, a rumble, and the wall split in twain.

The room beyond was as big as the Canterlot Castle ballroom. Much of the wall was covered in bronze-colored plates, save for the spots where they had fallen away in a cave-in. Pictures had been carved into the metal with laser-precision. On one, six changelings stood on platforms above a crowd, gemstone necklaces gleaming with power.

The topmost changeling’s necklace held a six-pointed, lavender star. Sweetie Belle adjusted her glasses and squinted at it. “Is… is that…?”

“Is what—?” Button Mash trailed off with a weak wheeze. “Uh.”

Andean Ursagryph sheathed his sword with a firm talon. “It’s as the old tales say. The first to use the Elements of Harmony were changelings.”

“B-but—” Button turned a pleading expression towards Andean. He shook his head, his eyes wide. “But that’s not right. W—we know River was—”

“River?” Ahuizotl strode in behind them, a grin cracking his face in half. “Do you perchance refer to River Cicada? The first queen of the changelings and a personal friend?”

Button spun around too fast and stumbled. It was Sweetie’s turn to catch him, though she had no idea what to say. She was forced to stay still and prop him up while he blathered. “B-b-but—” He coughed into his hoof when he choked on his own spit. “—I don’t understand. The stories all—”

“The stories are wrong, of course, as they usually are.” Ahuizotl prowled around the room, examining the walls with an almost lackadaisical interest. “History is written by the victors, after all, and cannot be trusted. You need only scratch the surface to see all the dirt and grime beneath. To see the horrendous atrocities that have been caulked over with flowery language. To see blatant misinformation perpetuated by a propaganda campaign. To find the names of those that the powerful wish to be forgotten. To be—”

Ahuizotl’s speech ended with his jaws clamping shut. Sweetie strained her neck to see around him. Whatever image had shut him up had to be breathtaking.

It was, perhaps for the wrong reasons.

The changeling queen, still wearing the Element of Magic, observed as the other five changelings were executed by a blue, five-limbed creature. The monster’s wicked grin was all-too familiar.

The next image showed the queen and the monster standing beside the Elements. The magic gemstones formed a circle, at the center of which was the Spade of Hearts. Power flowed from the Elements to the weapon, taking on a sickening green hue as it did so.

“At our best guess,” Andean said, having not moved from the entrance of the room, “Queen River Cicada slew her other bearers when they refused to follow her plan to control the sun. Perhaps you were a friend, Ahuizotl, or perhaps you were merely a hitman. Only you can say for sure.”

“Not likely,” Ahuizotl said, his voice hoarse. “I remember nothing from the Second Age.”

Andean grinned out of the side of his mouth. “I’ll admit, that surprises me.”

Button pulled away from Sweetie to move closer to the image of the Spade. He stared up at the curved dagger, glancing between it and the true thing on Ahuizotl’s back. “How?”

Ahuizotl sneered at him. He walked away, banishing the memory of the etching with a wave of his paw.

Button’s eyes were hollow and tearful. His throat bobbed with pained breaths. “How could the Elements have a part in something so monstrous?”

Sweetie frowned at him. She was confused, too. Upset as well. The pictures did not tell a pretty tale. But there was something deeper than disappointment and fear in his words. There was something deeply aching, maybe even broken. He stood on unsteady hooves, sniffling and swallowing hard. She walked closer to him, her brow furrowed as she sought out the source of his—

Oh.

Oh.

His stories.

Those stories he loved so much, that he held so dear in his heart. The stories he told and retold. That he wrote songs about. That he put on shows for. The legends of great heroes and their mighty deeds. Everything Button knew and cared about was false. Fake. All the stories; lies. All the truths he found buried there, nothing but worthless imaginations.

Sweetie’s face burned at the magnitude of what lay before her. She came alongside him, her heart aching. She wanted to say something to help, but what? Button was in pain. What could possibly sooth it?

Nothing she could think of seemed proper.

Sweetie winced at the sound of Ahuizotl’s booming voice. “The décor is spectacular, but I worry about the functionality of it all.”

Andean Ursagryph pointed the mad god deeper into the room. “Come. There is one last thing to see.”

Sweetie walked slowly alongside Button as they once again were surrounded by griffons and Painted Ones. She caught Caballeron staring at Button, his expression intense but indiscernible. The doctor looked away, his jaw clamped tight.

“Doctor?” she said.

“Quiet.” He tipped his Ponyma hat low on his forehead. “This next part is important.”

They were led to one last room, longer and wider than the others, but only a meter taller than Ahuizotl at sitting height. The monster clawed at the stone overhead, grumbling faintly in discomfort. Andean had an easier time with the head-space, though still nearly bopped his head on the doorway.

Clear amber panels, much like those that made up the Hesperus Mactan’s wings, came together in an hexagonal cylinder in the center of the room. The honeycomb pattern repeated, seemingly infinitely. It looked like a cage, or a pen, or a container for something.

Within, she could see the floor drop away a short distance from the hexagons. Though it had no visible bottom, light shimmered from within. It moved like a liquid, molding and forming fantastical shapes within the cylinder. It looked very similar to the corona of a unicorn horn.

She could see dials and nobs built into the hexagons, all lying within the cage. Markings surrounded the dials, signifying settings, or positions, or any number of other possibilities. There were as many dials as there were hexagons. It was dizzying just looking at it.

Poni Caballeron stopped just short of the cylinder. “Is it not as I said, Ahuizotl? Do you have the proof you require that I have memorized the controls?”

“Without a doubt, dear Doctor!” Ahuizotl chuckled and gave Caballeron a mocking pat on the head. “You spoke truly and honestly for once in your life!”

Poni grunted beneath the powerful paw. “And my heart?”

“You are indeed one step closer to aquiring it.” The paw became too heavy to bear for one brief, terrifying instant. “So long as you continue to please me.”

Anhuizotl, his smile having regained its full, predatory luster, turned to Andean. “King Ursagryph, shall we step inside to examine this precious treasure we’ve found?”

“I would not.” King Andean pressed a talon against the amber-colored hexagon. “These plates hold back a source of magic far more powerful than a thousand unicorns. The core of the mountain is pure crystal; solidified magic. To step inside would be to invite an violent, painful death as the magic ruptures your fairy strings and burns your body to cinders.”

Ahuizotl laughed, short and sharp. “And yet the controls are inside?” He turned a snarl upon Caballeron. “Explain!”

Caballeron nodded faintly. “A changeling’s body—and by extension, a changeling queen’s—is capable of holding far more magic than a pony’s or griffon’s. While a pony generates their own magic, and is thus more often full of it, a changeling absorbs the magic around it. A changeling would still die from overexposure, but they have more time to work before the magic takes effect.” He shrugged, holding his forelegs out. “In short, it was designed so that only a changeling could control the sun.”

“Crafty dastards, aren’t they?” Ahuizotl clenched his fist tight and snorted steam. His nails dug into his palm, drawing blood. “I went to the changelings, but none of them came. None of them.”

King Andean tilted his head to the side so that he could look Ahuizotl in the eye. “Are we stalled until we can find a workaround?”

Ahuizotl slowly, gradually relaxed his hand. He wiggled the bloodied claws as his breathing slowed to a normal level. Sweetie shrunk back as his eyes lingered on her and Button. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. I may have a solution.” He licked his claws, then his lips. “If my hunch is correct.”

His smile became a mask of friendliness as he held the bleeding paw out to Andean. “But whilst I ruminate on the thought, perhaps I could show you the sun device itself?”

***

It was a small comfort that they were able to stay in the castle, rather than aboard Ahuizotl’s airship. They had full guest rooms available to them—adjoined, and with a constant griffon soldier presence. The beds were soft, the drinks were cold, and the view from the window was spectacular.

Crested Barbary, the head of Andean’s Blitzwings, eased the door closed. “You shall remain here until called upon. If you need food or medicine, let Stellar know.”

Sweetie Belle helped Button ease himself into a bed. The poor guy hadn’t said a word to anybody. Once he was on the mattress, he rolled over to face the wall.

Caballeron rapped a hoof on the door. The griffon known as Stellar Panthera poked his head in. “I’d like a whisky, if you have one on hand.”

“I’ll let the kitchen know, Doctor.”

“Thank you.” Caballeron half-turned towards Sweetie. “I’ll be in the other room.”

Sweetie shrugged one shoulder halfheartedly. “We’ll be here, I guess.”

“Obviously.” Caballeron tipped his hat and entered the adjacent room. The door clicked closed behind him, leaving Sweetie and Button in the silent room. Sweetie took a chair and hunched over. Button probably wasn’t going to be good company. Best to let him sleep.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a low whine escaped Button’s curled-up form. She watched him lie there for a moment, before another suppressed cry ended in a gasped sob. She rubbed her foreleg, an ache appearing in her chest.

She rested a hoof on his shoulder and spoke softly. “Button?”

His ears pressed against the top of his head. He covered his eyes with a foreleg. She saw his cheeks heat up to a bright shade of red.

Sweetie nibbled her bottom lip. She nudged her frameless lenses further up her nose. “Do you wanan talk about it?”

A breath pressed its way unbidden out of Button’s chest, whining on its way out. His lips trembled as he wiped his eyes. “Sh—River was—” He shook his head, coughing. “River was—was supposed to be a hero.”

Everything about Button was raw. His eyes, his throat, his emotions, his words. Reddened, tear-streaked, summer-brown gems pleaded with her for some iota of peace. “She was… supposed to receive the Elements. She was supposed to defeat the Fae and save the world. But she’s—” He shut his eyes tight, his breath coming in hiccups. “She killed all those people. The other Bearers… The sun device slaves… She killed all of them.”

Sweetie felt her own eyes pool with tears. She let them trickle down her cheeks, not bothering to wipe them away. What could she say to any of that? Saying she was sorry was worthless. Saying he shouldn’t let it bother him was tremendously stupid. There was no bright spot in any of it.

But… but that in itself was a lie, right? How do you fight a lie?

“Hay.”

He turned to her soundlessly, awaiting her next words with his ears perked and itching.

“Every great story,” she said, almost as quiet as a breath, “the one that really sticks with you, no matter how silly or outlandish it is, has a grain of truth in it. Right?”

Button Mash tipped his head downward, averting his gaze. His embarrassment was as clear as the daylight streaming through the window.. “If… if only a grain…”

She nodded, rubbing his shoulder lightly. “So what’s the truth in River’s story?”

The tears returned to Button in earnest. He pressed his hooves against his face, gritting his teeth.

Sweetie wrapped her forelegs around him, cradling just a small portion of him. He didn’t fight it. He accepted her embrace, fighting for what little comfort she could provide.

“Y—” She sniffled and tried again. “You said it was that nobody is totally alone. There’s always somebody ready to stand beside you, if you’ll let them.” Her throat hurt. It was a strange contradiction; both dry and phlegmy at the same time. “I still believe that.”

A spatter of sobs shook his body before he could contain them. “I… don’t know if I do.”

Sweetie rested her chin on the top of his head. “Will you let me stand beside you?”

“Sweetie…” He shook his head. He made a weak attempt to pull away, but couldn’t seem to find the strength. “I’m so stupid. I’m throwing a tantrum because I found out my stories were fake.”

“No!” She gave him a squeeze, surprising herself with the sincerity in her voice. “No, you’re not throwing a tantrum. You’re hurt, Button. Anybody would be. It’s okay to be hurt, Button. It’s okay to cry.”

The sun took on an orange tinge as it drifted towards the horizon. Sweetie felt its warmth at its fullest for the first time in over a week. “When I was young… Actually, just after I got my cutie mark, I got hurt. I found out about my shriveled fairy strings. I found out my magic could never be as strong as it might have been. I found out that I could die without a steady supply of ambrosia. I bottled it up inside. I hated myself. I hated the world. I hated everything for a long time.”

The orange sun reached that one particular tinge, and the sky itself reached that singular shade of familiar purple. “Without Scootaloo, I don’t think I’d ever have come out of it.”

She released him, but only so that she could look him in the eyes. His beautiful brown eyes. “There’s still truth in those stories, Button. You didn’t lose everything.”

He let his head fall against the bed. “How can I keep telling them, now that I know how they end?”

Sweetie sat beside the bed and rested her chin on the comforter. She gave him a light shrug. “Just be true to yourself? Tell the story you need to tell? Sing the song that you can’t live without singing?”

They locked eyes. Button slowly nodded, his breathing finally regaining some semblance of normalcy. He rubbed his eyes even redder than they’d already become. His answer was a small, significant word. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”

“Nobody can ask for more.”

Their door shook with a tiny knock. They turned as one to see a griffon chick poke her head in. She twittered at the guards, made a shushing motion with her talon, and slipped into the room. She was a short young girl, with silvery white feathers and shimmering gray fur. She carried a plate on her back, which she placed on a two-seater table. “Hi. My name’s Stella. I heard you guys were prisoners-but-not-really. I made you some cookies!” She grabbed her beak with one talon, then spoke around the fingers. “Well, I didn’t make them, but my sister and I had Chef Tabby make them. And we swore everybody to secrecy, so you won’t get in trouble. Or me. I won’t get in trouble.”

She fluffed her neck feathers out and smiled wide. “Are you really Sweetie Belle? One of the Cutie Mark Crusaders?”

Sweetie gave her what little smile she had left. “Yeah. That’s me. The squeaky one. You read about me in Twilight’s—Princess Twilight’s book, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Your stories are my favorite.” Stella drummed her clawtips against the floor. “Except maybe for Rainbow Dash’s stories. And Fluttershy’s. And maybe Applejack. But only ’cause I met her in real life, too.”

Her feathery ears rose up as she turned her head to the side. “Um. I should go. I hope you get released really soon!” She was out in a flurry of feathers, the door shutting solidly behind her.

Button sat up in the bed, his eyes heavy. New tears had come to salt his cheeks. He gazed glumly at the door, his muzzle scrunched.

Sweetie looked over the cookies. They were hot, moist, homemade, and utterly delicious. “I think… I think she’s the sort of kid you tell stories to. The kind who loves them with their whole heart. Who takes it to heart.”

Button nodded weakly. “I wanna give them a truth to hold onto.”

“Y-you can.” Sweetie forced herself to ignore the way her heart fluttered at his conviction. She focused on the newfound treats and held them out. “Wanna cookie?”

***

Caballeron finally shut the door fully. He didn’t know what possessed him to listen. Morbid curiosity? A natural inquisitive streak? Some dubious voyeuristic tenancy?

Perhaps he was just hoping Button’s spirit would stay strong.

He’s seen enough spirits crushed in his lifetime. He’d crushed many with his own hooves, shortly followed by a life being snuffed out. He’d slain pony after pony without a second thought.

He hadn’t killed Button, that night when he’d kidnapped Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo. It puzzled him. All it would have taken was a flick of his knife.

Yet this very same boy saved his life a few days later. Even now, he was intent on returning Caballeron’s heart to him. He would save all the hearts, he claimed. He wished to be a hero.

Caballron was in the business of killing heroes on occasion. Yet he hadn’t killed Button.

He’d told himself it wasn’t worth the effort.

He’d told himself it was just a boy, who didn’t know what he was doing.

He told himself a lot of things, and didn’t believe half of them.

This boy cared so deeply about River’s story that seeing her atrocities brought him to tears.

Poni stared into the glass of whisky sitting in front of him. He didn’t know whether to merely take the edge off or drink until he got sick. Neither seemed optimal.

He took a sip, and the ache of bitterness gripped the corners of his mouth. His jaw snapped shut as he let the alcohol flow down his throat.

The pain brought a memory to mind. He knew of one other boy who loved River’s stories.

“Daddy! Mommy bought me and Fluttershy tickets to the puppet show!”

He shoved the table away and watched the whisky cup tip over. It rolled onto the floor and bounced, splattering the last drops of the drink across the carpet. He stood and paced, rage filling his chest. He held it in for as long as he could, but it burst forth in a cry of howling agony. He kicked the table, and it tumbled onto its side.

Poni looked into a full-length mirror and saw Caballeron. The once-proud father, the well-respected historian, had become a murderer, a thief, a thug who worked for blood money. He hated it. He hated it so much.

He’d lost his wife when she’d followed down the same path he walked. He’d lost his best friend when he’d lied to his face for decades. Rhombus was a joke, a monster, a brat who had never grown up. Ahuizotl was a bomb ready to explode. Everything in Caballeron’s life was wretched and decrepit.

The only person who cared enough to help was an amateur puppeteer from Ponyville; a kid who barely lived on his own.

Poni knew, in his heart of hearts, that he wasn’t worthy to lick Button Mash’s horseshoes.

The weight of his troubles forced the doctor to collapse onto his bed. He wept softly until night came, and sleep granted him a brief reprieve.

The Vision of the Future

Andean Ursagryph gripped the rope tightly and hauled himself aboard the light airskiff. The journey from the castle to Ahuizotl’s mechanical flyder would have been a simple thing for the king, but the mad god himself had less aerial mobility. So Ahuizotl and his small gaggle of sycophants climbed aboard, ready to return to their apparent home.

“Fetack!” Crested Barbary screeched an order to the helmsgriffon. They pushed off and beelined it for the gigantic Strutter.

Captain Barbary cradled his volleygun close and stood beside Andean. He spoke in the low purrs of an older variant of the griffon language, one that Ahuizotl’s crew would be less likely to know. “Your Grace, I feel nervous sending you in the middle of this den of… I can only call it monstrosities.”

Andean chuckled lightly. “You think me unable to handle myself?”

“I see a side of you, King Ursagryph,” Crested said, “that I have not seen since Princess Stella’s illness was cured.”

Andean swiveled his head. None of the Blitzwings, nor Painted Ones, were within earshot. “You think me unstable?”

“I think you’re feeling stifled.” A gust of turbulence shook the deck beneath their paws. “Perhaps claustrophobic? You feel the Fae bearing down on you, breathing down your neck, and you’re acting accordingly. Did you see the look on Ahuizotl’s face when you spoke to him? He will not remain an ally for long under these conditions.”

“Too blunt, then?” Andean tapped his beak together. “I’ll admit, I find it difficult to give him the respect he craves. However, it will not do to soften my words as Celestia might.”

“Perhaps not, Your Grace,” Crested said. “Perhaps not.”

The tour of the Hesperus Mactans was uneventful for the vast majority of the trip. Ahuizotl practically preened as he went about, pointing out the weapon emplacements far beyond what either ponies or griffons had conjured up. The control room held a vast view-port, offering an unhindered view of the landscape around the machine. A scant few Painted Ones milled about, looking half-asleep.

Most of the hallways were littered with those strange, antlike Strutters. They climbed on the walls, dragged scrap metal around, watched their every movement. There had to be hundreds of them, all with legs as sharp as swords, and pincers able to slice through bone.

They finally came to the coup de grâce: The cargo bay. Dragonfly-shaped Strutters lay beside beetle-shaped brethren; the darting flyers and the slower, shielded powerhouses respectively. They carried similar—if smaller—armaments to the Hesperus itself. Their wings, built from the same hexagonal material as the shield within the mountain.

At the center of the room stood Felaccia’s salvation.

It was a single spire made up of interlocking panels. At the top, the plates shifted to form jagged points, like crazed battlements, or a massive claw reaching upward. At the bottom, bronze-colored plates were arranged in a pattern.

“I recognize this,” Andean said in Equestrian, pointing a talon at the foot of the Sun Device. “These will interlock with similar panels we uncovered atop Castle Roc. We followed them through the mountain and found they connect with the control array.”

“Ah!” Ahuizotl practically pranced around the Sun Device, his smile wide, his eyes burning. “Then we have a location! Perhaps the magic of the mountain serves to power the device.”

Andean furrowed his brow. “It isn’t powered by hearts?”

“The amount of hearts to move this very airship is insufficient to raise the sun.” Ahuizotl rubbed his chin, narrowing his beady eyes at the device. “I suspect this spike, this Sunspear, if you will, was always designed to channel a great amount of power. Hearts brought it up from the depths, to be sure, but I believe we shall need all the power we can muster… if we are to wrest the sun and moon out of the Fae’s hands.”

Andean reached out to touch the cold surface of the Sunspear. The mind boggled; how much power was an alicorn capable of accessing, if they could guide the celestial objects all on their own? Was there a limit? Did even Celestia know? If all of Ahuizotl’s hearts were unable to grasp the sun…

Which brought something to his remembrance. There was one last room he needed to see. “May I see your engine room?”

“My what?” Ahuizotl snapped out of his reverie, not unlike a branch snapping in a strong wind. “Why would you bother yourself? It’s barely more than a storehouse for acquired hearts.”

“And yet my curiosity piques.” Andean smiled at Ahuizotl, extending a talon palm-up. “I expected my tour to be all-encompassing. As was yours.”

Ahuizotl snorted. “Perhaps we shall tour the showers, and the maintenance tunnels as well. Had I known you wished to see the dingiest parts of the Hesperus Mactans, we would have started in the equipment room.”

“The engine room shall suffice.” Andean gave the Sun Device one last lingering look. “Then tomorrow, we can commence with the installation.”

Two antlike Strutters led the way. Andean followed close beside Ahuizotl, with the Blitzwings who had come aboard trailing behind. They made their way to the heart of the vessel, step by step.

Andean needed to see the room. If he was to work with Ahuizotl… he needed to see that much. For Corona’s sake.

What she’d said weighed heavily on his head, of course. And she was right, to a point. Ahuizotl was far too dangerous a bedfellow to treat as anything but a constant threat. Seeing the callous way he treated his soldiers, separating them from their bodies and stuffing them into machines… Seeing his countless victims treated as mere baubles to collect… Forcibly kidnapping a young girl from her home to serve his mad scheme…

But the alternative was to allow Celestia’s shortsightedness to send them all into a world of darkness.

The closer they came to the engine room, the more the walls throbbed. Power coursed just beneath Andean’s feet, while his ears were subjected to a steady thump. His own heart shuddered in his chest, torn between flight and succumbing to the beat.

“I am curious,” Ahuizotl said.

Andean scowled at him; perhaps out of discomfort with his surroundings, perhaps due to his opinion of the creature beside him. “What?”

Ahuizotl kept his eyes forward, his tail wriggling haphazardly in his wake. “Felaccia is famous for their funerary rites. They burn all their loved ones on pyres. Much like the pegasi in that regard. But your kings are kept in catacombs. Why?”

“The pyres are a recent occurrence.” The thrum echoed off the walls and trailed their way down his spine. The atmosphere was oppressive, like a thick smog had replaced pure air. “We had an infestation of wights a few years ago. They inhabited the mountain tombs and masqueraded as undead monsters. Many griffons lost themselves to terror and the beasts’ cannibalistic tenancies. We burn bodies to prevent the wights from inhabiting their horrific habitat.”

He patted his scabbard; Euroclydon sparked with a ready energy. “But there is not a wight alive who would attempt to invade my home.”

“Well…” Ahuizotl grinned as he opened a hatch in the wall. “I’m certainly glad you’re on my side.”

Andean stepped through the door. His jaw dropped.

An orb stood suspended in the middle of the room, pipes leading from it to every corner of the Hesperus Mactans. Indents ran across the orb’s surface, in which were placed two-hundred hearts. Each heart was a different color. Each heart radiated with a different light. Each one represented a unique soul.

Each one spoke with its own voice.

“Help me, please!”

“Where is Sweetie Belle? She said she’d save us!”

“Mom! Help! Momma!”

“It’s so dark!”

“I can’t breathe!”

“What’s going on?”

“Where am I?”

“I wanna go home!”

“Sweetie belle!”

“Help!”

Andean staggered. He reached out for support and grabbed the bulkhead. The voices continued to speak, straight to his heart. There was no way to shut them out. There was no way to ignore them. There was no way to turn away from their pain. Their fear. Their heartache.

Two-hundred voices screamed at once.

“I’ll admit,” Ahuizotl said. “It’s pretty to look at.”

Andean turned to him, clenching his fists. “They’re all… still alive?”

Ahuizotl laughed. He made his way into the engine room, his tail’s hand gesturing like an orchestra conductor. “Dead hearts cannot produce magic, wise king. All their bodies are currently safe and sound in Equestria. Little more than vegetables. Mouths being fed on Celestia’s bits.”

Andean clutched his chest. His feathery beard caught the sudden trickle of tears as he was overwhelmed. “How can they speak?”

“Can they?” Ahuizotl plucked a heart from its place and tossed it to himself. “I haven’t heard a word since I ripped their souls from their bodies.”

But Andean heard them. Like ice to the heart. Like a sword in the stomach. He wiped his eyes and stood upright, forcing himself to look at the multihued monstrosity. “How can the body live without a heart?”

“A creature can live without a soul, King Ursagryph! Not very long. Not very well.” Ahuizotl replaced the heart and drew the dagger, admiring the way the light reflected off the blade. “And the soul was always meant to move on when it left the body. The dagger merely encases the soul—the magic of a creature—in a new home. For my use.”

He sheathed the dagger with a hearty chuckle. “Do not worry your delicate complexion. It only took fifty hearts to reconstruct the Sunspear. It shouldn’t take more than that to connect it to the castle.”

Fifty hearts.

In constant agony.

Screaming to him.

Andean pulled away from the orb. He saw his Blitzwings just outside the room, all staring at him with an expression bouncing between concern and confusion. They snapped to attention at a glance from him. “I assume this concludes the tour?”

“I believe we’ve seen all we can.” Ahuizotl made a brushing motion with his right paw. “Sanctus, if you would?”

One of the half-dead Painted Ones shambled up to them. She looked blankly at them, then started walking down the hall. Andean looked to Crested, then followed her out.

Andean leaned close to crested and spoke in the old Fellacian. “Did you hear anything?”

“No, Your Grace.” Crested glanced over his shoulder with a deep breath hissing from his nose. “Hear what?”

“Those hearts spoke to me, Captain.” Andean felt anger swell in his chest. The voices rang through his skull, overlapping into a single horrified wail. “All of them. Screaming.”

Crested Barbary nodded slowly, grasping his beak with a talon. He spoke around his fingers. “What did they say?”

“The cry was unanimous…” Andean gripped the hilt of Euroclydon hard enough that the leather handle squeaked. “‘Help.’”

***

The sun set without a word for Martial Paw. Twilight overtook the sky above, shifting from blue to purple to black as starlight appeared one pinprick at a time. The moon danced into view, lighting the horizon on the far side of the Roc Mountains.

He hung over the railing of the Vanishing Point, the chains of Daring Do’s pocket watch tangled in his talons. Here he was, returned to Felaccia after nearly a decade as an Equestrian citizen. Banished, disowned, and disallowed.

He had guided the airship through crags and little-used pathways on the outskirts of Roc. To fly over the mountains was to invite instantaneous death-by-turbulence or death-by-apex predator. One did not simply tangle with a dragon’s only remaining natural predator, after all. Even if they usually only went after baby dragons. The roc species acted as a natural defense for Felaccia in that regard.

The moonlight was just strong enough to illuminate the watch’s face. The image of Daring Do and Time Turner smiled back at him, as it always did. Martial blew a breath through his beak and returned his attention to the city of Roc itself. His old home had remained unchanged since he’d left… at least from a distance. The farms, the fishing huts, the castle, all were familiar. An upward gaze took him back to his old home; the floating barracks and watchtowers where the military slept, trained, and stood watch over the city.

And there, marring the landscape with its wickedness, was the Hesperus Mactans. Ahuizotl was no doubt aboard. To be so close to ending things, yet so unable to make a change, left Martial floundering in his emotions.

A presence at his side coughed and brought him back to the moment. The breeze chilled his skin beneath his feathers. He pulled his cloak over his arms and eyed the newcomer. Captain Carrot leaned on the rail a respectful distance away, her eyes trained on the city. She glanced over when she noticed him looking. “Sorry. Tried to be quiet.”

Martial closed the watch and tucked it into his collar. “There’s a reason we sent Blank into the city instead of you.”

“I don’t wear feathers as well as he does.” Care’s ears laid against her scalp at the distant call of a full-grown roc. She looked him up and down, furrowing her brow. “How’s it feel to be back?”

Martial grasped his beak, unsure of how to answer that. How did it feel? There was too much to explain. It was too complex to sum up. “I feel like I’d rather not get arrested.”

“What’s the punishment for breaking banishment?”

“Mrph.” Martial’s memory went back to training. Patrolling the sky on the lookout for dangers, enemies, and other undesirables. Testing his carry capacity. “It could be a number of things. It depends on the severity of the transgression. On one hand, they might merely tie your wings and toss you into the ocean; to make sure you leave this time. On the other… Felaccians are awful fond of throwing stones.”

He fished through his saddlebags and came upon a document he’d kept by his side for as long as he’d been in Daring’s service. The stamped seal of the princesses granted him full citizens’ rights. “Since I’m an Equestrian these days, they’d probably deport me. There would be further consequences, I’m sure. Many of them meted out by out by Equestria itself. Much like the espionage I’m sure you’d be tried for.”

Care nodded, her tail swishing behind her. “Geeze. What’d Luna get me into this time?”

Martial snorted. Captain Carrot continued to surprise him. “I thought a pony like you would be used to this type of consequence.”

“A pony like me?” Care gave him a lopsided, slightly accusatory smile. “Buddy, I was Captain of Princess Celestia’s personal guard. You don’t get that position without a squeaky-clean record. Before I met Daring, I’d never broken a law in my life.”

Martial’s feathery ears drooped. He forced a scowl from his face, taking on as blank an expression as he could. “I find it surprising that you’re the leader of our little band, given your lack of experience.”

“Again, dude. Princess Celestia’s Personal Guard.” She polished a hoof with no small amount of satisfaction. “I’m not inexperienced. I’m just used to operating inside the law. This black ops stuff was more Daring’s wheelhouse, but she taught me everything I know.”

Martial returned to leaning on the rail, looking over the city. “I can’t help but notice how specifically you phrased that.”

“Yeah, but look at it from Princess Luna’s perspective.” Care scooted a step or so closer. “I’m here because I’m cool under pressure and can kick a lot of butt. You’re here because you know the layout of Roc better than anybody else, and can also kick a bit of butt. Blank’s here because he’s Blankety Freaking Blank. The butt kicking goes without saying.”

Martial raised a single eyebrow. “Even if he can’t swing a sword to save his life.”

Care raised her forelegs. “Hooves. What more can I say?”

Martial rested his chin on a closed fist. “That neither of us would be alive today without Daring?”

“I’ll drink to that.” Care Carrot reached behind her head to tie her mane in a tight ponytail. He gave her hooves a double-take when he noticed how complicated the movements were.

“Why do you do it like that?” He waved a talon, indicating the bone that sat proud and tall on her forehead. “You could do it much easier with magic.”

“Raised by earth pony farmers.” She shrugged. “I learned to tie things the hard way first.” One last tug set the band in place. She pulled the green ponytail over one shoulder. “Besides, I like to keep switching things out. Gives my hooves something to do when I’m waiting for something.” She giggled to herself and waved a hoof into the distance. “The many moods of Care Carrot.”

Martial found his eyes returning to the Hesperus Mactans again and again. Each time, his blood boiled anew. He rubbed his eyes and turned around, facing the Vanishing Point instead. He looked across the deck of his tiny airship, all dented and chipped and worn. “Not one to buck tradition, then?”

“Nah. Not generally.” Care set her chin on the railing. “Not if I can help it.”

Martial put a talon to his chest and felt Daring’s watch ticking away beneath the fabric of his cloak. “I feel… I feel that if Daring were with us, she would have a plan. A plan to defeat Ahuizotl, destroy the sun device, save the hostages, and be home before the day was through. And with her confidence, I would have no doubt in my mind that she’d pull through.”

Care pressed her lips tight. “Even she’d need to wait until Blankety gets back. Get the lay of the land. Find out who’s where.”

Martial Paw bowed his head. The wooden planks that made up the deck of his airship creaked as the wind rocked it back and forth. “You’re right.”

He stood up and walked to a chest that was heavily roped to the rearmost part of the deck. A quick turn of a key unlocked it, and a flick of his talon opened it. He pulled a sack off the top of the pile and weighed it in his palm. The handheld volleygun his uncle had given him slid out, alongside a small bag of ammunition. He opened the back and inserted four rounds, one for each of the “Turner’s” barrels. He closed the weapon, set the safety to “on,” and strapped the volleygun to his belt.

He then took out his best rapier and slid it from its scabbard. He had honed the edge to a hairsbreadth. It sang as he swished it through the air.

“I guess I’d better get my armor aired out.” Care’s hooves clattered across the deck behind him. “You have armor, right?”

“A bit of enchanted mail. Greaves and boots. Any more gets in the way of flying.” Martial turned his rapier in his talon, making sure the ornamental grooves in the basket guard hadn’t been bent. He watched Care lift a small purple breastplate from the interior of the Vanishing Point. A minimalistic helmet set itself upon her head. “I see you’re not wearing your usual full suit of Royal Guard armor.”

“Now that’d be asking for trouble.” She tossed the helmet to herself. It had no adornments and less coverage, almost like a scooter helmet. “It’s too bad. With the new upgrades we’ve made, full armor can stop a volleygun shot.”

Martial gave her a double-take. “You’re joking.”

“Not even.” Care smiled and clasped the armor around her torso. A faint shimmering shield of magic covered her from head to tail. “Some kid in Ponyville crafted a sort of super-alloy. Combine that with the best enchantments our wizards can cast, and you’ve got yourself a mobile brick wall.”

She looked herself over, spinning around a couple of times in her quest to see over her shoulder. “I wish we’d come up with some stealth armor that didn’t look like budget hoofball outfits.”

He pointed his sword at her head. “I’d say most of that’s in the helmet design. Besides, between the purple metal and your orange coat, you’ll be the least stealthy thing in the castle.”

“It still beats marching around in full ceremonial bling.”

“Touché.” The flap of wings reached Martial’s ears. He gazed into the darkness and saw an average-sized griffon approaching. It was either Blankety Blank or trouble. Maybe both, if they were unlucky. “Get below. Somebody’s coming.”

Care ducked out of sight. A moment later, an incredibly nondescript griffon male touched down on the deck. Greenish-blue eyes shimmered in the darkness. “I wasn’t followed.”

Martial sheathed his blade. Care rose from the lower deck, her armor removed. She gave Blank a quick hug and sat a short distance away. “Lay it on us,” she said.

“S-Sweetie Belle and B-Button are in the castle. Third floor guest rooms. Guards everywhere; mostly Blitzwings.” He pointed to the Hesperus Mactans, which glowed a sickly green from within. “Ahuizotl is s-staying on his airship tonight. Tomorrow they’re gonna hook up the sun device to the castle and try to test it on the sun.” He narrowed his eyes and waved at the castle, indicating the top few floors. “The Blitzwing patrol is going to b-b-be centralized on the c-connection. That’ll be the best time to grab the hostages.”

“Unless Ahuizotl is using Sweetie Belle to control hearts.” Martial stood at the helm and gave it a lazy spin. “Then our job becomes that much harder.”

“Well, we can’t grab her tonight,” Care said. “Not if the entire Blitzwing force is hemming them in. We’ve all seen Blitzwings fight. We wouldn’t get through. Not nearly.”

“Our only chance is to use tomorrow’s bustle as a sc-screen.” Blankety scratched the tip of his beak. Black flakes of chitin drifted down from behind the false yellow bone. “M-maybe use some of the liquid explosives Ap-Apple Bloom gave us.”

Care gave him a slow nod. Martial spun the helm the other direction, unwilling to give up his position, but unable to make a real argument. He knew better than any that you didn’t face the Blitzwings without expecting a few losses along the way. Facing them in the castle or atop it, it didn’t matter.

But they had to go through.

“Explosives won’t do much against the Sun Device,” Martial said. “That material is stronger than… stronger than wootz. But it might do something against Ahuizotl.”

“Dragonfire didn’t faze him.” Care snorted, rubbing her forehead at the unbidden memory. “I doubt our piddly little bottles are gonna do much better.”

“Th-that’s just the armor.” Blankety fanned his wings in the moonlight, his brows low. He all but danced on his hind legs, looking as though he was ready to shoot off into the sky right then. “We find some way to negate or remove it, and he’s m-mortal again.”

Care’s eyes flicked between the two of them. Her left ear dipped down. “Any bright ideas? Or should I wish for an early Hearth’s Warming while we’re at it?”

Martial growled deep in his chest. He stowed his rapier away in the trunk and made his way towards the lower deck. “I’ve only known one weapon capable of besting Ahuizotl’s breastplate.”

Blankety’s head snapped up, a touch of hope in his voice. “What’s that?”

Martial gave them a sardonic smile before disappearing belowdecks. “My uncle’s.”

***

Shining Armor sat alone in a spare suite, somewhere on the west side of the castle. The root beer he’d been guzzling hadn’t been quite hard enough, so he’d switched to orange sherbet sometime around three-o’-clock. It turned bitter in his mouth, and sour in his stomach.

Cadence hadn’t come out of their suite all day. So he’d left her alone. Made sure Chrysalis II was as comfortable as possible. There wasn’t much comfort to be had. She, too, was holed up in a suite, surrounded by her changeling bodyguards.

When he’d left, they’d all watched him. Their heads moving in synch. Their eyes judging. Their teeth bared.

When she wasn’t wearing a false face, the relation between Shining and his newfound daughter was unmistakable. She had the same eyes, the same mane, the same nose for crying out loud. Some small part wanted to apologize for the… stately nose; they usually only imposed themselves on the males of the Sparkle family.

But there she was. Unmistakably changeling. Unmistakably a Sparkle.

Unmistakably messed up.

“Ooh horseapples.” He usually despised cursing, but he had no other words for the situation. It seemed the only way to let off steam, and he was alone for the first time in… in twelve years. There was nobody to call him out on his hypocrisy. “Holy rutting horseapples.”

A soft tap was heard against the door, having less of a rhythm than a simple melody. Shining Armor pushed the sherbet back and stood. Maybe it was a servant coming to deliver more sherbet? Maybe they decided to move him onto the really good stuff: Mint ice cream. He eased the door open and glanced outside.

He had to look down before he could see the pony who had disturbed him. It was a thin pony, with a blue coat, black-blue mane, and high cheekbones. It was a very familiar pony indeed. “Dad?”

Night Light looked up at his son with what could only be described as a very deep weariness. “I saw the light under your door. Thought you might need some company.”

“It’s three in the morning. What are you doing out of bed?” Shining glanced out the window to verify the deep blackness of night outside. “Don’t you have a class to teach tomorrow?”

Night Light gave him a wry smile, small but sincere. “After all that’s happened today? This is what they made substitutes for, buddy.”

Shining stepped aside to let his father in. Night Light took a lackadaisical stroll around the suite, not looking for anything in particular. “Besides, your mom went back to Ponyville after Spike left. I hate sleeping alone.”

Shining let the door click behind him. He took a seat at his tiny table across from Night. “Sherbet?”

“This late? With my stomach?” Night let a low breath hiss from between his lips. He tapped his hoof against the table a few times. “Ahhh. Just two scoops.” A spell laid the bowl before Night. He picked at the dessert, waving the spoon under his nose.

He gave the spoon an extra lick to lap up the excess sherbet. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Shining leaned on his hoof. He swallowed another glob of fruity frozen fun. “About what?”

“You know the answer to that question better than I do.” Night Light yawned. He stirred his treat until it became a rainbow of soup. “I can tell there’s something—”

“I… have a daughter I didn’t know about.” Shining Armor looked to his father like a drowning person might look at a lifesaver. “I met her this week.”

The spoon popped out of Night Light’s mouth and hovered in midair as he chewed on the already-melted sherbet. His eyes widened, flickering around the room as the gears turned within his head. The tips of his blue ears turned red. He finally found Shining again, his forehead furrowing. “Who is the mother?”

“Aha ha.” Shining Armor winced from his tail tip to his horn tip. “Queen Chrysalis the Tyrant.”

Night’s ears drooped. He coughed into his hoof and pushed the sherbet aside. “Then the changeling queen visiting right now—?”

“That’s her.”

“But she’s an adult—”

“She’s twelve. It’s a disguise.”

Night Light chewed on the tip of his hoof. His voice cracked as he pressed on. “That means before you and Cadence got married—”

“Yep.”

“Chrysalis used her magic to—”

“Uh huh.”

“And kept it secret all these years—”

“You got it.”

Night Light cradled his head in his hooves. He leaned against the table, his eyes closed tight. “Oh, Shining Armor, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” Shining took a bite that tasted like ash in his mouth. “Yeah, me too.”

Night’s ears snapped upright. “How did Cadence take it?”

“She—” Shining found it difficult to speak around the lump in his throat. “—won’t talk to me. Still.”

Night Light frowned. “Do you know why?”

Shining Armor nodded. He reached over to mash up the tension in his left shoulder. “She hates changelings, dad. Chrysalis the Tyrant specifically. She’s terrified of what she almost lost. Me, the kids…” He shrugged. “Now I guess she feels like her deepest fears came true.”

Night Light raised his eyebrows and looked Shining in the eye. “But she didn’t.”

“Didn’t she?” Shining dropped his bowl into the empty sherbet container. He brushed them off to the side as a sick, grimy feeling permeated his stomach. “I had sex with the incarnation of evil, Dad. I even know when it happened, too. I wanted to get away somewhere quiet with Cadence. Just so we had a moment to ourselves outside of the wedding planning. Nothing dirty, just a conversation. I woke up in my own bed, a little dizzy but none the wiser.”

His father ground his teeth. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Shining Ar—”

“I opened the door!” Shining Armor all but jumped from his seat to pace around the room. “I gave her the opportunity and she took it. And took me for an idiot!”

“Sit! Down!”

Shining Armor’s mouth fell open. His father hadn’t yelled at him in around twenty years, if he had his internal calendar right. He looked to the older stallion, who held his gaze firmly. He backpedaled to the chair and took it quietly.

“Chrysalis took advantage of you. Not the other way around.” Night Light folded his forelegs. “She took something very special from you and Cadence. But it wasn’t your fault. It will never be your fault. You may have consequences to deal with, but it was not your fault.”

Shining Armor wiped his eyes. They stung like a hornet. “Why don’t I believe that?”

“Because you have your mother’s stubbornness.” Night Light let out a sigh and turned to the window. “And mine.”

He grasped his bowl with a spell and sipped some sherbet soup. “You need to talk with her.”

“I’ve tried, Dad.” Shining Armor let his chin lie on the table. “She shut me out.”

“You need to keep trying,” Night said. “If you wait until you’re both ready, it’ll never happen. You need to clear it up as soon as possible.”

Shining’s head tilted until his cheek was pressed against the table top. “How am I supposed to clear this mess up?”

“The same way you clear anything up in marriage.” Night rubbed his forehead, smoothing the wrinkles for an instant before his skin sagged to its normal state. “You both pour your hearts out, then try to piece things together. You’ll both feel like garbage, but you’ll come out the other side stronger. You gotta actually work it out. Make decisions based on loving each other. That’s all it comes down to.”

Night Light reached across the table to touch a hoof to his son’s foreleg. “You can’t do it alone, Shining Armor. You need Cadence. And she needs you.”

Shining scratched the back of his neck. He patted the top of his dad’s hoof. “I guess I know what I gotta do, then.”

“Attaboy.” Night Light paused for a long moment, quiet and thoughtful. He finished off the last of his dessert, passed the bowl to Shining Armor, and moved to the settee by the window. He fiddled with his hooves, watching the clouds roll by in the glistening night sky.

“So,” he said quietly, hesitantly, “when do you think I can meet my… my new granddaughter?”

Shining Armor breathed deeply, and a black cloud of stress exited his body. “I think we can set something up sometime tomorrow.”

***

Andean Ursagryph strode into the castle’s central room, Euroclydon clinking against his side. A long table awaited him in the center of the room, with high-backed chairs lining each side. The decor wavered between stone gray and obsidian black depending on its substance. The black chairs served to highlight the griffon lords seated in them, contrasting with whatever finery they had decided to wear to the meeting.

Crested Barbary stood to the left and slightly behind, his presence more felt than viewed; as befit a guard. He rested his volleygun against his shoulder, his opposite talon resting on the hilt of his saber. The other Blitzwings took up position around the room, evenly spaced to equally cover the entire occupancy.

Andean’s eyes rested on the throne placed at the far side of the room. He decided against taking the seat, and instead propped his forelegs against the table. “Gentle creatures.”

“Your Grace,” the closest lord said. “Welcome back to Felaccia.”

Andean gave him a polite nod. He turned his head to one side to look over the assembled lords. All were in attendance, as requested. He expected nothing less. “Preparations are set. Tomorrow, we shall install the sun device atop the castle. Then, our period of study can begin.”

“What of Equestria, Your Grace?” A voice near the middle of the table echoed around the room, tinged with a faint metallic bent. Andean sought the source and picked out an unmistakable face, that of Aquila Gildwing. The gold flecks among the griffon’s dark feathers shone in the low light. A metal beak was attached to what scraps were left of his natural one—razor sharp and stained from countless arguments won. “What interference can we expect?”

An ache made itself felt in the back of Andean’s neck. A cocktail of tiredness and anxiety. “I believe whatever grievances they have shall be voiced by ambassador. They will not make any aggressive moves.”

The lord across from Aquila—a hulking, owl-faced griffon—gripped the top of his scraggly walking stick. “Then it is the perfect time for us to be the aggressor. Now that we finally have an advantage over the ponies, the time for rrrretribution has arrived.”

“Haven’t we moved past that thought, Lord Tigris?” A young griffon at the back of the room leaned on one talon while he drummed the other against the table. “I still have hopes that the Equestrians will come to see the benefits of sharing the sun.”

“They share among themselves, Morphnus,” Aquila Gildwing said. “Not with other species. Lord Tigris is right. If we want the world to return its proper state, we must take action.”

Lord Morphnus Barbary—Crested’s elder brother, if Andean recalled correctly—sat up a little straighter. “Return? To the old ways? When each species sought to eke a living out one day at a time? When monsters roamed unchecked, devouring families whole? When war tore lives apart as surely as a sword tears bone and sinew?”

“Rrrreturn to a time,” Lord Bubo Tigris rumbled, “when the world was not rrrrun by the embarrassment known as Equestria.”

An elderly, white-striped griffon snickered quietly. “Rather let us be the embarrassment, you old goat?”

Andean bellowed a roar that shook the table down to its legs. The lords fell immediately silent, their eyes on him. “This much is already decided: We shall take no action against Equestria. We are yet allies, if only on paper. If there is to be aggression, it must come from them. Am I clear?”

A chorus of silent nods greeted him.

“If any should break that alliance, no matter how secretly think you’ve done it, you shall answer to me.” He patted Euroclydon’s scabbard. “Directly.”

When no one else spoke up, Andean walked around the table. He kept the lords in his peripheral vision, but did not look at any specifically. “Tomorrow, I am mobilizing the entire Roc-based military. I do not trust Ahuizotl, nor shall I ever. Should he try to undermine any of our treaties—Equestria, Beefland, Giraffrica, and so on—we shall come down on him with every ounce of strength we possess.”

Lord Gildwing began to rise from his chair. “He’s our one chance at—!”

“And confiscate the sun device as the spoils of war.” Andean allowed a low growl to be felt in the room. “I’m certain, Lord Aquila Gildwing, that will suffice?”

Aquila slowly returned to his seated position, facing a peeved-looking Lord Tigris.

“If the unthinkable happens…” Andean sighed deep within his chest. “If Ahuizotl betrays us and succeeds, I do not want our entire government to fall in Roc. Tonight, you shall all return to your own lands. Build your armies for a reprisal. If Ahuizotl were to claim victory, he would become the single most dangerous being on the face of the planet.” He gave Gildwing, then Tigris, a burning glare. “Ahuizotl is not to be trifled with.”

Morphnus Barbary leaned back in his seat as Andean passed. “Shouldn’t some of us stay here? Our guard retinues are some of the fiercest warriors in Felaccia.”

“No. The Blitzwings and the Roc Armed Forces shall make their stand.” Andean rain his talons through his feathery beard. “If we are unable to overcome Ahuizotl, with all the power at our disposal, I don’t believe a dozen or so more soldiers would be enough to shift the tide.”

A messenger entered the room. It was a tiny griffon, barely as big as Andean’s eye. He flittered up to Crested Barbary’s ear and whispered, then exited in the same moment. Crested gave Andean a signal that it was important to discuss; he flicked his left ear down twice.

Andean Ursagryph nodded. He addressed the gathered lords with wings half-spread. “Time is of the essence. Move swiftly and quietly. I do not want word of your movements to reach Ahuizotl’s ears. Now go.”

The lords stood as one and headed for the exit. Bubo Tigris paused in his pained shuffle to stand beside Andean. He leaned heavily on his walking stick, his grayed, striped feathers flaking in his wake. His dull eyes sought his king’s face. “One tires of being wary of all one’s allies, Your Grace.”

Andean’s beak twitched towards a frown. He kept the expression in check, but just barely. “It is the lot of a griffon’s life, Lord Tigris.”

“Perhaps to a degree. We teach that the Creator gives us the strength to lead only for a little while.” Tigris opened and closed his talon. The limb ached with every movement, his frail skin stretched to the limit. “Yet we still spend our whole lives worrying that He made someone stronger than us. Fighting against those who could be stronger. Doing everything in our power to mold His ‘Perfect Plan’ into our image.”

His wispy eyebrows hung low over his eyes as he wheezed a dusty breath. “Be mindful of where you wield your strength, Andean Ursagryph, lest it falter.”

He hobbled away, his guards surrounding him in an impenetrable barrier of steel and feathers. Andean watched him go until he vanished out the door. One of the oldest of the lords, not to mention the wisest, wiliest, and most vicious.

He was Berkut’s chief advisor five hundred years ago. He survived Celestia’s attack by taking a tour of the troops. He survived the subsequent battle for kingship by staying out of Andean’s way.

Crested locked forelimbs with his brother. When their short-lived greeting was finished, he walked the rest of the way to Andean’s side. “Your Grace, urgent news from the border.”

They were far enough away that most lords were out of earshot. Andean gave the go-ahead.

“The Equestrian Royal Navy has weighed anchor in neutral waters. Right outside Felaccian limits.” The Blitzwing Captain clicked his beak a bit longer than usual. “They haven’t moved for an hour. What do you want to do about it?”

“What indeed?” Andean allowed himself a single, solitary, sardonic smirk. “What’s one more earth-shattering meeting for today?”

***

Andean Ursagryph exited the ironclad warship and stepped into a cloudless night. Stars shone overhead with a quiet ferocity, burning brightly on their preordained flightpath through the ether. The moon glowed brightest of all, framing a figure on the deck of the Equestrian flagship.

Luna gave him a nod. “Welcome aboard, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, High Princess.” Andean craned his neck to take it the spectacle of it all. “It’s a beautiful night.”

“Thank you.” Luna held herself imperiously. Her eyes shone with pure ice, and her voice clanged with iron. “Why did you wish to meet? In secret, at that.”

Andean was joined on deck by Crested Barbary. He nearly excused the Blitzwing Captain, but stopped short when he saw Luna was not alone either. A large earth pony mare, only slightly shorter than the princess herself, hovered behind Luna. A closer look revealed it to be Apple Bloom, Applejack’s little—no, younger sister. She looked like she was ready to punch him right in the face, should he step out of line.

He decided crossing the line held no purpose for him. None whatsoever. “I wish to know what the Equestrian Navy is doing so close to our border.”

“I suspect you know why.” Luna pressed her lips into a firm, thin line. “We are pursuing Ahuizotl. The instant he is no longer under your protection, we shall pounce on him with the utmost ferocity. No mistakes this time.”

Andean nodded. “But so long as he stays within our borders, you will not attack him?”

“As long as he is your guest—” If she had spat the word, it would have held more dignity. “—we shall not interfere with your dealings.”

Luna let out a breath, more of a huff than a sigh. “We are also here to ensure that the ponies Ahuizotl kidnapped are safe.”

“Sweetie Belle,” Andean said quietly. “And… I do not know the stallion’s name.”

“It’s Button Mash.” Apple Bloom wore an expression Andean had seen once before: When Applejack had accused him of murder. He hadn’t been guilty. That time. “He’s a friend.”

Luna stiffened, as though she wished to cut Apple Bloom off, but did not want to present disunity in front of the griffons. Andean gave her a solemn nod. All was well. He just had to deal with her the way he would deal with the Lord Mayor herself…

With respect.

“Button Mash. I will not forget.” Andean dipped his curved beak towards Apple Bloom. “I swear I shall protect them with every fiber of my being. They will be returned to you. Nothing shall sway me from this mandate.”

Apple Bloom looked confused for a moment, but the anger quickly returned. “And it ain’t just Button or Sweetie, either. We—”

“The hearts.” Andean interrupted her with a calculated verbal parry. “You also seek to free the hearts.”

Apple Bloom’s frustration stopped her mouth up. Too many words flooded her all at once, and none could escape. She could only nod and await Andean’s next sentence.

“They, too, are under my protection.” Andean shifted his stance to include Luna in his attention. She remained stiff, her face stony and her emotions impregnable. “It is ludicrous to believe their sacrifice is the only way to work the Sunspear. They, too, shall be freed.”

“But not yet,” Luna said.

Andean sent a muted frown her way. “That’s the cincher, isn’t it?”

“The moment you wake up and realize exactly what you are doing…” Luna sat, her wings spread to reflect the silvery moonlight. “We shall be ready to help you.”

King Andean Ursagryph and High Princess Luna stared at each other, neither wishing to budge from their positions.

He bowed his head, and turned towards the ironclad. “Keep a careful watch, Luna. Fate has… yet to be decided.”

He waited for her response, the voice asking for him to clarify, but she said nothing. Perhaps she understood. Perhaps she still thought him all the more gormless for it.

The ironclad sailed back to the Canyon of Entry, its lord and king nestled within the hold. He leaned against the wall, peering through the porthole at his kingdom as they approached. He itched to draw Euroclydon, to treat his problems are mere physical things which could be destroyed.

But problems of the heart had no such easy solutions.

He turned to Crested Barbary, who was busy sharpening his saber. “Captain?”

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“You read the Canon regularly, do you not?” Andean gripped his beak in a talon, parsing the words before sharing them. “What wisdom does the Creator have regarding our situation?”

Crested tested the edge of his blade. He blew a long, slow breath out one side of his beak. “We are meant to love peace and hate injustice. Neither one comes naturally for a griffon.”

Andean chuffed. He shook his head. “No. There are some to whom it is the most ordinary thing in the world. Two special griffons in particular.”

Crested sword slid into its sheath. He stowed away his whetstone beside his ammunition. “I believe Corona will be an excellent queen, Your Grace.”

“Aye, that she will.” Andean narrowed his eyes as the statues of the ancient kings loomed over them. “But only if Felaccia survives that long.”

***

“You should not have shown Andean Ursagryph the engine room.”

Ahuizotl brushed off Cicada’s words with a flick of the wrist. “He would never take ‘no’ for an answer. It is for the best that things are seen clearly between us.”

Cicada’s armor clanked its hooves against the deck as she followed Ahuizotl through the Hesperus Mactans. The lights alternated between battle-ready red and sickly-changeling green, depending on the room. “He cannot be trusted, Ahuizotl.”

“To a point. His betrayal is inevitable.” Ahuizotl tapped the side of his nose. “The question is how much work we can get done before the inevitable happens.”

He nearly tripped over a plodding, thoughtless acolyte. He curled his upper lip as he watched it shamble away, dribbling ichor from its mouth. “You know these creatures were already loyal to the death, did you not? You needn’t have worked your… changeling magic on them.”

“It is an ancient technique,” she said, her voice mechanical and buzzing. “Before a battle, a changeling queen synchronizes her soldiers with her, so that she can direct them more efficiently. If done correctly, she can control their very thoughts. Chrysalis the Tyrant did not know of it; therefore, she lost.”

“You expect a battle tomorrow?”

“Don’t you?”

“To a point.” Ahuizotl opened the door to the bridge and walked up to the helm. The controls were silent, as the ship had docked on the rocky canyon walls surrounding Roc. “When we connect the Sunspear to the castle, we will be able to conduct a test of the device’s capabilities. At that point, Andean’s cooperation will be, shall we say, surplus to requirements.”

Cicada’s soulless eyes glared into Ahuizotl’s soul. “You intend to use the device against Roc?”

Ahuizotl smiled. He flicked a switch and opened the windows. Roc lay peacefully beneath them, mostly dark, but studded with lamplight here and there. “Celestia cemented herself as the greatest superpower in the world some five-hundred years ago when she turned Felaccia’s king into ash and brimstone. We can do the very same thing here. Cow the world into submission with a single action. Show that the power of the sun has finally shifted hands. Reveal just what I am capable of.”

He sat before the viewports, his eyes twinkling with the promise of victory to come. “While Celestia united the world under a banner of playing nice with each other, I shall unite them under a banner of reverential fear. Only with all peoples united can the Fae be defeated. Only under my leadership can this be achieved.”

Queen River Cicada folded her metallic wings behind her back. “With Andean Ursagryph as the first casualty in the war?”

“The first price to pay.” He grinned, and his teeth matched the sharpness in his voice. “The price of a god!”

The Line in the Sand

Button Mash opened his eyes as sunlight streamed through the window. He moved one limb, then another, then found the strength to roll onto his hooves. The muscular pain had subsided. The bruises weren’t quite there yet. He had the faintest of headaches from all the crying he’d done.

He figured by midmorning, he’d be fit enough to run screaming from whatever monster decided to show its ugly face.

There was no ambrosia left. Sweetie Belle had taken what little remained the previous night. Without her regular, prescribed dose, she was going to be in pain all too soon. She slept on the chair, facing the bed, her glasses folded up on the suite’s two-seater table. He curly mane bunched up between her shoulder and the chair; a poor-pony’s cushion. She breathed softly as she savored the one glimmer of peace she’d had in the past couple of weeks.

Button’s breath hitched in his throat. She was beautiful. No, that was too weak a word. She was phenomenally gorgeous. A fuzzy, warm sensation flooded his chest and face, causing his mind to do backflips. It took all his strength not to gawk like an idiot. He pulled himself towards the window to look over Roc, but everything in him dragged his eyes back to Sweetie Belle.

“Oh, Creator, I’m a creeper,” he said softly, pressing his nose against the window pane. “A grade-A creeper.”

He grumbled under his breath, locking his eyes on the horizon. He expected to see more movement in the town surrounding the castle. To see fishing boats on the water and airships making their rounds.

He saw none of that. Roc was as quiet as the catacombs deep within the mountain.

“Storm’s brewing.”

Button’s head twisted around at just below the speed of light. Caballeron stood beside him, his Ponyma hat pushed back on his head. The doctor narrowed his eyes at Button and gestured to the window. “Open it. I want a smoke.”

“Smoke in your own room.”

“I would, but the princesses insist that they need the room to prepare our breakfast.” Caballeron brushed Button aside and opened the window with a flick of his hoof. He leaned out into the air and stuck a cigarette in his mouth. “Seems they don’t want to disturb their hero.”

Button Mash felt his face heat up. Sweetie stirred on the chair; her eyes fluttered open, only to close again. He blew a gentle breath and lowered his voice. “You mean Sweetie, huh?”

“Are there any other heroes in this room?” Caballeron clicked his lighter, but the sparks failed to ignite the cigarette. He shielded his mouth from the wind and clicked several more times, each with similar results. “I doubt it.”

Button Mash’s nostrils tingled at the scent of cinnamon on the air. It came from Caballeron’s room, where the clatter of plates mingled with the ting of silverware. “Heroes don’t last long, do they?”

A spark finally ignited. Caballeron took a drag and—mercifully for Button’s lungs—allowed the smoke to disperse over the city. “Sapients are selfish. Heroism is the denial of that selfishness. Eventually, everyone returns to their nature, or their sacrifice destroys them.”

Caballeron turned his head to cock a brow. “Every legendary hero has a skeleton or two in their closet. No one is exempt. We all have things that, if people were to learn about them, would completely ruin their perception of us. It’s hypocrisy… but that, too, is the nature of a sapient.”

Button sat on the edge of the bed. He glanced at Sweetie, but only for a moment. Only to make sure she was still snoozing. “That’s a pretty sad outlook, Doc.”

“To deny it is to deny yourself.” Caballeron scratched his unruly chin hairs with an audible rasp. “The worst sort of naïveté. Can you name any true hero?”

Button narrowed his gaze at the haze surrounding Caballeron’s head. “Princess Celestia—”

“—created a kingdom by reigning through fear of the sun. Killed other heads of state. Subjugated the Diamond Dogs. Treated her own sister in such a way that she went stark-raving mad.” Caballeron waved his hat in front of his face. “Boy, you’re going to have to do better than that.”

Button frowned, his blood pressure building. “Starswirl the Be—”

“—the creator of banned magic? The imprisoner of evils which are still now causing chaos in the world? The stallion who nearly caused the destruction of our entire universe with his mirror experiments? Who vanished without a trace, never to return?”

Button all but snorted steam. “Twilight Spar—”

“—Celestia’s heir apparent, who will do whatever her liege asks without question. Who has time and again shown her willingness to reshape the minds of others with her dangerous spells. Who personally failed to stop the most vicious attack the Equestrian homeland has ever known.”

Button stood and trotted towards Caballeron. “That’s horseapples and—”

“And you, who have consistently failed to meet the challenges set before you.” Caballeron flicked the remains of his cigarette into the ether. “And I feel I needn’t mention Queen River Cicada of the changelings—”

“Yeah, I’m probably gonna screw up and fail.” Button Mash gritted his teeth as he stood eye to eye with the doctor. Neither moved for a good, long moment. The air practically crackled between them as they each waited for the other to speak.

Eventually, Button broke off the staring contest. He wheezed and stumbled over to the door.

Caballeron bobbed his head in noncommittal acknowledgement. “What it means is that you should never put your heroes on too high a pedestal. Neither should you expect too much out of yourself. You’ll be disappointed, and you’ll be unable to deal with the reality of the situation.”

The doctor pressed his lips together. He watched Button pace the room with his ears pressed against his scalp. “We’re all just people, trudging through life however we can.”

Button Mash sucked in a deep breath. He glanced at Sweetie Belle and saw that her eyes were indeed open, having heard every word. No surprise, since raised voices made for a poor atmosphere for sleep. He mouthed a dim “I’m sorry.” She shook her head; no apology necessary.

“Even if heroism only lasts for the moment…” Button looked to the doctor, pressing past the gaping pit in his heart. “What choice do I have but to make this my moment?”

Caballeron curled his lip. He reached for another cigarette. “Spoken like a true hero, boy.”

The griffon chick from the previous night poked her head into the room. She assessed the situation, found it unpleasant, and broke in with a quick chitter. “Breakfast is ready if you’re done yelling. If you’re not done yelling, then please stop and eat.” She glanced back into the room, exchanged a high-pitched twitter, and spoke quietly. “Hurry up, because Sheesha is sending us away with the Lords.”

Sweetie Belle yawned. She gingerly eased her glasses onto her face. “I think it would be wise to accept the princess’ invitation.”

Caballeron stuffed the tobacco away for later. He bit down on a stick of minty gum as he passed her chair. “Sleeping, ma’am, or eavesdropping?”

She refused to answer him, and instead trotted—head held high—into the far room.

***

A beetle-shaped aircraft glided over the walls of Canterlot Castle. Three Painted Ones lay within its hard shell, while the fourth occupant was a deadly automaton. Dissero, Lapsus, Confuto, and Insurgo disembarked under the cover of darkness. Though morning’s first light had hit Felaccia to the east, Equestria had hours left before Twilight Sparkle pushed the sun along its course.

The Painted Ones hid their ability-enhancing pigment beneath long cloaks. They spread out throughout the empty courtyard, keeping an eye to the wall for the guardsponies of the night watch. They found the servant’s entrance. The door was locked.

Confuto looked over his shoulder. “Guests stay in the far wing. Dissero…”

Dissero’s metallic legs skittered their way up the central castle building’s walls. The automaton chittered as the panels on its back opened and folded. The faint glow of the magic in the elderly stallion’s heart faded from view as he rounded a corner, headed for the suite windows.

Confuto watched the automaton as long as he could. He reached beneath his long cloak and produced two crystalline orbs. One glowed a chilled blue, the other a stinging yellow. He handed the blue enchanted orb to Insurgo. Passing the yellow one to Lapsus, he gripped the stallion’s foreleg. “Take the Bolting and head for the east wing. Draw away the guards. We’ll act as backup for Dissero should something happen.”

Lapsus gritted his teeth. “If Ahuizotl’s victory requires my sacrifice, so shall it be.”

“Keep your wits about you and you shall see the new world.” Confuto revealed a third orb, one that blazed a bright red. “Fail, and there is no force in the old world that can save you.”

***

Shining Armor walked morosely through the halls, like a pony headed to his last meal. It felt strange to be so uneasy about Cadence. The last time he’d been at all nervous in her presence was secondary school, years and years ago. Back when they were teenagers. Back before they were the sovereign rulers of northern Equestria. Back before they’d raised three children together.

But the thought of speaking with her left his knees shaking.

He came to the door of their suite. Solid wood, intricately carved. The golden handles beckoned him in. The hefty lock shooed him away.

He bowed his head, raised a hoof, and knocked. “Cadence?”

He didn’t expect an immediate answer. He was already on his way to the next knock. “Cadence, it’s Shining. We need to talk.”

He heard a shuffle on the far side; the soundproofing barrier hadn’t been renewed. He could feel her approach, her familiar magic wafting on the air. She came to the door, as quietly as she could, and pressed her ear against it.

Shining Armor touched his forehead to the cool wood. His horn made a soft tap against the smooth surface. “Please open the door.”

Cadence said nothing.

Shining shut his eyes. “That little girl… I know where she comes from, but she’s my responsibility now. She’s never had real parents before. She has the weight of the world on her shoulders. She can’t handle it alone. She needs help. She needs me.”

Shining rolled until his back was facing the door. “And I need you, Cadence. I always have. I’m not a whole person without you.”

He bit back a quiet little sob. He longed to simply reach through the door and touch her hoof. Just the slightest contact. Just the softest touch. Any reassurance that she still loved him. “I know you need me, too. We can’t make it through this alone. If we try to heal separately, we’ll never be able to graft back together. Please, Cadence. Please let me in.”

His ear snapped up at the sound of tiny hoofsteps retreating down the corridor. He recognized the gait instantly: Silver Lance. The scamp was eavesdropping. He was probably hoping for the door to open as much as Shining was.

Shining Armor blew a soft breath through his lips. “We all need each other, Cadence.”

***

Princess Celestia descended from the balcony that overlooked the dining hall. The usual retinue of Royal Guardsponies acknowledged her presence with the usual stiff nod. The two little fillies waiting at the table remained motionless, their heads down.

“Hello, My Little Ponies,” Celestia said softly. “What brings you to the dining room so late at night?”

“Can’t sleep.” Twilight Amore propped her face up with her hooves. Weary bags traced the bottoms of her eyelids. “Want cocoa.”

Flurry Heart nodded, staring at her hooves.

“Where’s your brother?” Celestia took a seat beside the fillies and wrapped them in one massive wing. “I’m sure Silver Lance would enjoy a cup as well.”

“He said he’s gonna see Daddy,” Flurry said. She leaned back and melted into the feathers. “He said he wants to help.”

Celestia sighed. She called out to two guardsponies. “Sturm? Drang?”

When the two stepped forward, she gave them a curt nod. “Find Prince Silver Lance and either bring him here or to his room. Explain to him that his father and mother must make amends themselves. Gently.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Celestia sent a message to the kitchen via a spell from her horn. “I think I’ll join you girls. How does that sound?”

Twilight Amore seemed near sleep; near enough to not answer immediately. Flurry Heart smiled at the High Princess and nodded. “Yes, Auntie Celestia. We’d like that.”

***

A pegasus maid trotted into the castle’s kitchen, carrying a tray filled with various ingredients. She wiped her mane beneath her lacy headdress. “I swear, those kids drink more late-night cocoa…”

The maid made herself busy. Cocoa, sugar, and marshmallows blended together into a hot mixture. “If their mom and dad would just talk the kids could get some sleep now and then.”

A portly stallion followed in behind her, yawning wide and polishing a monocle. “Sky Wishes. Are those children still up?”

“Hay, Natter.” She set two spare mugs to the side, in addition to the three prescribed for the royal children. “Yeah. They’ve been tossing and turning for a couple hours now.”

“Dash it all.” Royal Scheduling Advisor Natter leaned against the stove beside her and rubbed the bags beneath his eyes. “Children need their sleep. They’ve been lazing about the castle with nary an iota of motivation betwixt them.”

“They’re in a bad spot.” Sky Wishes leaned against Natter and wrapped one wing around him. They faced the door, though their attention was wholly on each other. The pot simmered behind them, nearing a boil. “Y’ think the rumors are true?”

“About Chrysalis the Second?” Natter wrinkled his nose. “I daren’t speculate on the royal family.”

“Afraid of gettin’ fired?” She patted the top of his head with several soft, pink feathers. “Relax. They wouldn’t know what to do with themselves without you.”

“Fine.” Natter leaned his head back. “How can they be anything but true? What else could drive a wedge between the poster children for true love? What else could have the entire castle so set on edge? Where else could a new changeling queen have come from?” He laughed halfheartedly; little more than a soft hiss between his teeth. “I need a vacation.”

“We could stay with my sister down in Ponyville.” Sky Wishes gave him a sly smirk. “Ribbon says it’s real warm this time of year, and they’ve got some nice, peaceful, secluded places around the outskirts.”

Natter allowed the monocle to drop to his chest. “Dear mare, are you casting aspirations on my honor?”

“Nah. I’m casting aspirations on mine.” She swatted him with her tail as she stood. She proceeded to pour a measure of sweetness into each of the five mugs. “Relax, Nat. I’m teasing you. But tell me you wouldn’t jump at the chance for lying in the grass, birdsong all around, a picnic sitting half-eaten beside us…”

Natter set the monocle in its place and let out a little chortle. “I didn’t say I was opposed to the idea.”

“And hay, maybe we can get Flower Wishes to visit, too. You could meet the whole family. All three Wishes.” She kicked the door open and threw a final thought back to him. “Keep those mugs warm for us, ‘kay?”

Natter glanced at the two servings she’d set aside. He lit a spell with his horn and covered the mugs with an insulated shield. “I’ll be waiting with bells on.”

“Yo, guards!” There was a tiny, strained laugh from the mare. “Make sure the workaholic doesn’t wander away, alright?”

A hefty, brutish mass of a stallion—coated in full Royal Guard regalia—poked his head into the kitchen with a baritone laugh. “You two getting into shenanigans again, Nat?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter before it starts to mold.” Natter scooped the mugs in a telekinetic bubble and floated them along behind him. “Miss Wishes, I shall be awaiting your company in the dining hall. Slab Bulkhead, you are not invited.”

Bulkhead feigned a pout, even as he trailed behind. “Gee, and here I am, all dressed up and no place to go.”

***

Lapsus neared the dining room, his eyes alert for any sign of guardsponies. The electrical charge in his Bolting tingled through his body, interacting with and aligning to the painted markings on his legs, chest, and face. To someone looking at him, it would appear that his body itself was glowing beneath his cloak.

His mission wasn’t exactly stealth-reliant.

He peered around a corner to the brightly-lit dining room. Guards stood at each of the four walls. The long, gold-laced table stood in the center, seating three ponies. One was a young pegasus filly. The second was a slightly-older alicorn filly. The third…

The third was Princess Celestia.

Lapsus looked down at his Bolting, then to the princess. It was an impossible, one-in-a-billion chance. If he could fell Ahuizotl’s greatest enemy… perhaps Confuto would no longer be High Priest. Perhaps it would be Lapsus’ turn to rise.

He strode into the room, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Who the heck are—”

He spun around and found himself face-to-startled-face with a pegasus maid. A pudgy, monocled stallion and a green-coated Royal Guard captain flanked her. The guard hefted his spear. He had only a moment to act.

The Bolting ignited and threw Bulkhead against the wall.

***

The Blitzwings led Button, Sweetie, and Caballeron onto the top of the castle. The wind picked up as the Hesperus Mactans approached, its cargo bay open to the air. The Sunspear hung from a grasping claw welded to the bay’s ceiling. Painted Ones and Blitzwings surrounded the area, most concentrated around the castle’s connection point. King Andean Ursagryph stood front and center, Ahuizotl beside him. They both glistened with their best armor: Ahuizotl with gemstones studding the breastplate, Andean with silver adorning his head, forearms, flanks, and back. Mail coated the griffon king’s chest, and his sword sat ever-present at his side.

When Ahuizotl turned to the mechanical flyder, Button got a good look at the blasted Spade of Hearts—the cursed dagger that started this whole mess.

“The time has come, my Painted Ones!” Ahuizotl crowed, raising his arms. “The sun shall at last warm my back with its power!”

Behind the soldiers, past the castle battlements and the lake, beyond the cliff walls, Button could see a trail of airships moving beyond the border of the city. Probably the lords the princess had spoken of. Well, no matter what happened here, at least the young Stella and Corona would be safe.

More than could be said for Button.

The Hesperus Mactans descended. Each of its eight legs gripped a tower of the castle. The flyder, with its legs fully extended, had a diameter nearly the size of the carved mountain itself. Its wings collapsed and folded into the shell of the mechanoid.

Ahuizotl pointed a claw towards Sweetie Belle. “Begin the song! Tell the hearts to beat as one!”

“Hold!”

Andean Ursagryph held a talon up, palm out. The gathered ponies and griffons paused as one, waiting with bated breath.

Button raised an eyebrow. One griffon did not stop. He looked familiar, though the face and name sat on the edge of his mind, refusing to come into focus. Another griffon on the far side of the battlements shuffled, not quite picking up his paws as he walked. The two of them appeared to be scoping out the scene, separate from the Blitzwings.

Button’s ears fell against his scalp. Martial Paw. Blankety Blank. They were here. They were gonna destroy the sun device.

And hopefully, they’d rescue him and Sweetie. He just needed to keep cool.

Ahuizotl turned to the griffon king. “I beg your pardon, Your Grace?”

“Hold. For just a moment.” Andean removed his helmet. His bald, wrinkled head glistened with a light sheen of sweat. “I must… have my say.” He tossed the helmet lightly to himself. “Ahuizotl, do you know why I wish to control the sun?”

Ahuizotl narrowed his eyes. He grinned with clearly-feigned jollity. “To wrest its control from those who would abuse it, of course. To make all nations equal beneath its light. To make sure no one creature is the strongest.”

“Hmm.” Andean tapped the helmet. “To what end?”

Ahuizotl’s grin became a dire grimace. “I’m afraid I did not come all this way to play idle games, Your Grace.”

“This is no idle game.” Andean looked to Sweetie Belle. He held her gaze as he continued. “How many hearts did you say were in that device? Fifty? With two-hundred more aboard the vessel?”

“Roughly.” Ahuizotl made two tense, blood-draining fists. “What of it?”

“I seek control of the sun only for an event where the alicorns fail.” Andean Ursagryph pointed at Ahuizotl and took a measured step closer. “In which the world is left undefended. Left to rot. My end is to save lives, Ahuizotl.”

“We’ve been over this a dozen times.” Ahuizotl crossed his arms. “Get to the point.”

“There are two-hundred and fifty lives in the balance as we speak.” Andean’s attention went to the airship and the Sunspear. He set the helmet back on his head with a decisive thrust. “I cannot imagine a world in which their sacrifice is necessary. I will not live in a world where such a sacrifice is made lightly and freely.”

Andean stood at his full height, reaching above Ahuizotl’s head. He turned to the side to look the mad god in the eye. “My command is thus: If you wish to make use of the castle that stands at the center of my kingdom, then you shall work alongside me to create a power source that does not rely on lost lives. We shall work together to create a safe, secure world. We shall give these hearts back to their owners. And we shall share control of the sun with all peoples.”

A shadow fell over Ahuizotl’s complexion. Blood trickled from his palms where vicious claws dug into flesh. “You dare to alter our bargain so late into the event?”

“We were always going to seek an alternative, Ahuizotl.” Andean drummed his talons against the stone floor. “But I cannot in good conscience allow this atrocity to continue. We are merely pushing back the preliminary testing.” The griffon king’s voice grew low. Deep. “Would you dare object to such a requirement?”

“After everything I’ve worked for?” Ahuizotl chuckled. “Very much.”

A mechanical clanking dragged Button’s ears upward. His jaw dropped as an armored figure appeared at the mouth of the cargo bay. Green magic shimmered from between the joints in the armor. Fire billowed from every gap in the plates. Two green eyes locked on the three ponies as two orange wings extended from the creature’s back.

It took a gentle step off of the ledge and flew towards Andean and Ahuizotl. It landed with nary a sound. The creature, whose body seemed to be pure magic, inclined her head.

Andean Ursagryph reached for the hilt of his sword. “Who are you?”

The creature’s metal horns flashed with turquoise-trimmed lightning. “I am Queen River Cicada, whose machine you seek to make use of.”

Button nearly choked to death on the spot. The news was too much to swallow, let alone process. Sweetie looked at him, aghast, but he had no response for her. Caballeron shuffled back, his eyes wide with horror that Button felt nicely mirrored his own internal struggle.

“Queen Cicada.” Andean’s talon remained at his sword. If anything, he seemed even more ready to draw it. “The chronicles say you died nearly two-thousand years ago.”

“There are many ways to reach immortality. The Spade of Hearts is mine.” Cicada raised a hoof to her chest. “I extracted my heart before my death and placed it within a control chamber in my capitol city. My body faded away, but I was able to remain.”

She waved towards the Hesperus Mactans, her tin-tinged voice taking on something akin to pride. “Through the connectedness of the greatest changeling cities, I have come to restore my kingdom to its former glory. I have come to see the changelings returned to life.”

Andean glared at Ahuizotl, who stood idly by with a smug grin. “Are you for or against the activation of the Sunspear?”

“I am for it.” Cicada walked towards Sweetie Belle, who half-ducked behind Button. He reached out a foreleg in some slight hope of warding the ancient changeling off. “The changelings shall always be seen as little more than monsters without the power of the sun to call their own. We must take the sun back from the ponies if we are ever to see the world as it should be.”

She turned her head, as if she had just heard something unpleasant. Her horns glowed, and she dragged a griffon out of the crowd. “I give you a prime example of what happens to us under the rule of ponies.”

Andean began to draw his sword, but halted when he got a closer look at the griffon. “You are not a Blitzwing. Who are you?”

Cicada’s magic gripped the griffon’s wrists, ankles, and neck. He squawked, green fire licking at the edges of his wings. “I-I-I am no-nobody!”

“He is named Mandible.” Cicada hung the griffon in midair before all in attendance. “He is a changeling under the employ of Princess Celestia. He is a spy. A saboteur. He was sent to destroy the sun device.”

“M-my name is Blankety Blank,” the griffon said. “I am a special agent in the Equestrian Armed Forces.”

“This piece of filth is what we have been reduced to.” River Cicada’s emotionless face belied the venom in her electronic voice. “A failure of a species. Scattered to the four winds. Denied a home. Denied dignity. I feel, King Andean, with your cooperation, we can restore not only your kingdom, but all kingdoms who have suffered under Celestia’s method of rule.”

Blankety screamed as Cicada crossed his legs behind his back. Tears streamed down his face as the fire grew fiercer, reverting his feathers and fur to black chitin.

That fire resounded within Button Mash’s chest. How dare she? How. Dare. She?

“It is my belief, King Ursagryph,” Cicada said, “that the restoration of the world is worth a paltry few pony lives.”

“You were the best of us!” Button’s soul spewed forth, and his mouth was all to eager to go along for the ride. “You were given the Elements of Harmony! You were the defenders of the world! And you gave it all up!”

Sweetie Belle stood beside him, her voice clear as a silver bell. Her melodic tone held the sway of every heart it came into contact with. “You lost the right to defend the world when you started to murder people to satisfy you own ego!”

Button looked at Sweetie with a gaping mouth. The power, the righteous fury, the just indignation… He was in awe. Above it all, her voice added strength to his own resolve. He turned to the vile deposed queen and continued to bleed his heart out. “If you can’t spare the time to think of a better solution, you don’t have the guts to be a ruler!”

“You’re a coward!” Sweetie Belle took a solid step forward, and nearly the entire audience took a step back. Only Cicada and Button remained where they stood. “You and Ahuizotl both! Prove yourselves worthy of the sun and make a change for the better! Let these ponies go and do the right thing for once in your black-hearted lives!”

Andean chuckled. A smile broke out across his beak. His laugh grew in volume and assurance. “‘But the Creator chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; the Creator chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.’” He released the hilt of his sword and spread his palms towards Ahuizotl and Cicada. “Do not be a fool, as I was. Acquiesce, and we shall see a brand new world shining forth. Are you with me?”

River Cicada strode closer to Sweetie Belle and raised a regal hoof. She looked over her shoulder to Ahuizotl. “Will you allow us to be made fools of by mere ponies?”

A foul breath exhaled from Ahuizotl’s decay-laden grimace. “Perhaps.”

He reached over his shoulder to draw a Wyrmslayer blade. The superheated metal ignited instantly, angling a strike right for King Ursagryph’s neck.

The Wyrmslayer flew from Ahuizotl’s paw. It embedded point-first in the stone a few meters away. Ahuizotl howled and clutched his wounded claw, scurrying back as he did so.

Andean Ursagryph held Euroclydon in a high guard. Lightning traced its length. Light filled the griffon king’s eyes. “I’ll not ask again. Striking a king is grounds for war.”

Ahuizotl drew the other Wyrmslayer. The Blitzwings readied their volleyguns, while the Painted Ones hefted their spears. The mad god growled. “Well. When you strike a king, you must kill him.”

King Andean gave a lingering gaze to the Sunspear. “I had hoped… But neither of us shall get a second chance.”

Ahuizotl sprang to action. High, middle, and low strikes swirled in rapid succession, beating back the griffon king. Euroclydon sparked and shrieked, its magic leaping to the surface of the Wyrmslayer. Fire and lightning blasted forth in an array of colors that nearly left Button blinded.

Caballeron’s forelegs fell over Button and Sweetie’s shoulders. He dragged them away from the fight, towards the staircase into the castle. “Run!”

Cicada’s magic wrapped around Sweetie’s hind leg. The young mare found herself drug backwards, away from any semblance of safety. “Button!”

River Cicada raised her head to the Hesperus Mactans. The massive automaton shifted, rising higher on its eight legs. Turrets appeared on every surface of the monstrosity. Magic pumped from the imprisoned hearts to the tips of the weapon emplacements. Each turret selected a predetermined target, gained a lock, and opened fire.

Lances of pure fear and agony pierced the sky. They struck the military structures floating nearby the castle. Airships folded over and burned to cinders. Towers crackled before collapsing in on themselves. Ballistae and cannons exploded into deadly shrapnel.

Below the Mactans, Blitzwings ducked for cover as the changeling Strutter turned its ferocity on them. Painted Ones and Blitzwings alike were caught in the crossfire, vaporized in an instant. Those that remained entered a violent melee, volleygun shots competing with bayonet strikes for number of kills. In moments, the Painted Ones had been dealt with to a pony.

Andean swung Euroclydon. The motion kicked up an isolated stormfront that struck Cicada with the force of a thunderbolt. The deposed queen’s magic fizzled out and released Sweetie. Button hoisted his friend to her feet. A muffled cry escaped his throat as he was thrown to the ground by Caballeron. Ahuizotl’s sword passed just over his head. Button and Sweetie crawled as fast as their knees could carry them, while Andean intercepted the mad god.

River Cicada’s hoof clamped down on Sweetie’s tail. “I command you to sing!”

Button charged in the hopes of bucking the queen away. Cicada merely raised a hoof to bat him aside. He rolled and got to his hooves in a single motion, ready to charge again. This time a hefty thwack clubbed his skull, courtesy of River’s metallic knee. Sweetie’s horn glowed; she dragged Cicada’s head to the side, but the grip was broken by a fierce kick to her stomach.

An explosion rocked the Hesperus Mactans.

Queen River Cicada stared across the lake to the source of the projectile. A few cannons had moved in to replaced the ones that had been destroyed. An array of ballistae launched explosive missiles towards the flyder. Rockets joined the fray, as well as fifty-millimeter-bore volleygun emplacements. Cicada’s flagship found itself jostled and jolted, rocked and riddled. The Hesperus Mactans’ turrets found themselves turned to scrap metal one after the other. The changeling queen found herself on the losing end of a tide of fire and shockwaves.

Her scream was loud and clear. “Fall back!”

The enormous flyder crawled to the far side of the castle, away from the direct fire of the Roc Defense Force. A final parting shot hit the Hesperus Mactans just before it moved beyond range. The explosion dug deep into the inner workings of the vessel, and one of the eight legs collapsed. The severed limb tumbled down the mountainside into the drink, dead and cold. A cheer rose from the Blitzwings and the Roc Regulars.

Andean socked Ahuizotl with Euroclydon’s pommel stone, and the mad god faltered. A kick with his hind legs caused Ahuizotl to roll to the edge of the castle. The monster sprang to his feet and charged across the battlements to grasp his other sword. He brandished the twin Wyrmslayer blades, and found himself facing a score of volleyguns.

“You’ve already lost, Ahuizotl!” Andean held Euroclydon high. “Surrender!”

Ahuizotl laughed. The Wyrmslayers blazed with fire, and his breastplate burned with the same intensity. “Do your best, fool!”

Andean lowered the sword. Twenty volleyguns fired at a blistering pace, pelting the mad god with volley after volley.

Each round turned to ash when it touched his armor.

Ahuizotl dove headfirst into the Blitzwings. The quick ones took to the sky and kept out of reach, but three fell to his blades. Andean rushed to catch Ahuizotl’s strikes. Euroclydon moved like the lightning that powered it, deflecting and redirecting the mad god’s frenzied assault.

Sweetie and Button eased away from Cicada. The queen approached one painful step at a time. However, she was not watching them. She looked beyond, to the surviving airships and gun emplacements. A spell left her horn and traveled to the Hesperus Mactans, which lay out of sight.

A horrendous buzzing filled the air.

Strutters poured from the cargo bay of the Hesperus Mactans. Dragonfly-shaped ships darted to and fro, while beetle-shaped craft lumbered head-on towards their destinations. Dozens of them belched forth from their mothership, clouding the sky, lasers spewing.

Martial Paw grabbed Button Mash’s foreleg. “Get to the edge of the roof!”

Button bit back a curse as the large griffon male nearly tossed him bodily from the changeling queen’s reach. Before Martial could repeat the maneuver with Sweetie, Cicada struck him in the center of the chest with a gout of fire. The queen grasped Sweetie, took to the air, and sped towards the connection point.

Martial held no qualms about cursing. “Horseapples! You and Caballeron get in the castle. Captain Carrot will fly in with an airship to pick you up as soon as there’s an opening!” He pointed his rapier at Caballeron’s chest. “And you! I’m gonna make sure the job’s done this time!”

“Like hell you will!” Caballeron snapped.

“I’m not leaving without Sweetie!” Button Mash walked towards the center of the castle tower, but was stopped by Martial’s firm foreleg. “Let me go!”

Martial closed his talon to scratch the nails across Button’s upper leg. “And get yourself killed? Better than you have tried.”

“I’m used to it by now!” Button pulled away from Martial and sprinted. He only got a few meters before a pained cry hit his ears. Blankety Blank lay curled up on the ground, his griffon disguise having melted away completely. Andean and Ahuizotl’s duel took place dangerously close to him. One wrong move, and the changeling would be slain by sheer happenstance.

Button redirected his course. He knelt beside the changeling. “Can you lift your foreleg? Put it around my neck. I can carry you!”

Blankety reached a foreleg up, and Button moved his shoulders to hoist the changeling to his feet. He half-walked, half-dragged the changeling away from the dueling titans. The Spade of Hearts flashed in the corner of his eye, held by the hand at the tip of Ahuizotl’s tail. The blade sought Andean’s chest, but was rebuffed by the griffon king’s chainmail.

Caballeron grasped the far side of Blankety Blank. Between the two of them, Button and the doctor carried Blank to the edge of the tower, near where the Hesperus Mactans moored. Caballeron kept his head on a swivel. “Where’s that blasted airship Martial was going on about?”

“Care…” Blankety coughed up glowing green phlegm. “Care’s circling the b-base of the mountain. There’s n-n-no way she can m-make it up here with all the Strutters flying around.”

Button looked over the battlements, seeking hide or hair of Care. “Why do they call them Strutters if they’re always… flying?”

Ant-shaped Strutters crawled up the sides of the castle. They scurried from the cargo bay by the dozens, then used the legs of the Hesperus Mactans to reach the walls. Each one had a dorsal-mounted laser at the ready. Each one made a bee-line for the summit.

Button looked up to a sky black with insectoid airships. He looked down to a maelstrom of metallic limbs. To the left, a king and a god battled tooth and claw for survival. To the right, an ancient queen from a dead kingdom held a hero hostage.

Button breathed a sigh through clenched teeth. “Creator, if your plan includes our survival… now would be a good time to let us know.”

The Siren Song of Felaccia

Silver Lance sat a short distance away from the changeling’s guest suite. A creepy-crawly feeling dug into his back, sending shivers throughout him periodically. It wasn’t enough to push him away, though. There was something else he felt just as clearly.

Loneliness.

Confusion.

Sadness.

Each of the changelings felt it, he knew. But it was radiating from a central source. A core. They were just amplifiers. Or maybe dampeners. Maybe they were trying and failing to conceal the source of the emotion, so that nobody could be drawn to the pain.

There was no way he could help Mom and Dad. He knew that, even before he went to check on them. He just wanted to see for himself. But here… here he could maybe do something good.

A troop of changelings stood guard outside the suite. The leader, a chiseled old grump named Bugly, turned to him. The leader’s missing eye made Silver’s stomach churn, but he pushed past it. “What do you want, colt?”

“I saw that the queen was sad, so I brought some chocolate.” He held up a box, tied with a purple bow. “I think there’s enough for everybody.”

“The queen is not seeing anybody.” Commander Bugly snarled at Silver, but the young colt didn’t bat an eye. “You don’t seem afraid.”

“I’m not.”

The commander raised a chitinous eyebrow. “Why not?”

Silver braced himself for the usual conversation he had with adults whenever the topic came up. “Because I know you’re not gonna hurt me.”

Bugly almost looked insulted. “How could you possibly know that?”

“I just know.” Silver Lance tapped the side of his head. “In my knower.”

“We’re dangerous changelings.” Bugly’s good eye shot to one of his subordinates, who shrugged. “We might eat your soul.”

“Not really.” Silver Lance shook the box and the candies jangled. “Changelings only eat magic, not souls. I learned that in school.”

“So we’ll eat your magic.”

“Nah.” Silver Lance smiled in an unassuming sort of way. “You just want me to go away and stop bugging you.”

Commander Bugly stared quietly for a moment. “Will you?”

“Nope.”

“Come on, kid—”

“I just wanna give this to the queen.” Silver Lance lit his horn and held the gift over his head. “I think it’ll help a little.”

“Tenacious little—” Bugly scowled and took a step back. “Listen, kid. Sometimes you can’t help. Sometimes you just gotta leave well enough alone.”

“I don’t think that’s this time.” Silver gave the box a shake.

Bugly sighed. He scratched behind an ear with his hind leg. “I’ll ask the queen. But if she says so, you gotta scram, hear?”

“Yessir.”

***

Queen Chrysalis the Second of the Changelings lay in darkness. Enveloped by blankets. Shrouded in curtains. Sequestered with shadows. The twelve-year-old filly stared into the empty suite, taking in the full breadth of her recent realization.

Celestia could not be relied upon. Not indefinitely.

Her loss of control over the sun had to be the beginning of something deeper. Darker. Other kingdoms would seek the sun. Conflict would resume. The changelings would have to either stand aboard a sinking ship, or be swept away by the waves immediately.

Equestria itself could fall, the same as any kingdom. It was only as invincible as its sovereign.

The guards outside her door were the only military she had, save for the half-dozen guards she left with the hundred-or-so changelings that remained alive. The Changelings could never return. Even with the full might of a healthy Equestria behind them, they could merely survive.

But Equestria was not healthy.

Her people were as good as dead.

But she wouldn’t stand for it.

She, the discarded spawn of Queen Chrysalis the Tyrant. The follow-up to the most despicable villain to darken the Badlands. A failure in every sense. Every move she made to lift the changelings out of their hole ended in nothing but worthless gestures.

Delaying the inevitable.

She had long given up hope of ever finding King Thorax and his changelings. They’d been hiding ever since her mother’s Changeling Civil War. Lost. Forgotten. Unattainable.

But she had to do something. Her very soul cried out to lead them from the mire.

She left the bed behind and walked to the darkened window. Her horn sparked as she reconfigured her appearance. She had tried to maintain the disguise for the entire trip. She had tried to hide what she was, to spare Shining Armor and Cadenza the truth of what she was. She failed, and they all paid the consequences.

Perhaps Andean was right. Perhaps the changelings would be better off siding with him.

“There is hope.”

Chrysalis’ ears perked up, though she had not head the words. She had felt them in the core of her being.

“Queen Cicada is even now securing the power necessary to liberate the changelings.”

“Who’s there?” Chrysalis cast her eyes about the room, seeking without finding. “Identify yourself!”

“A proselyte of the Once and Future Queen. A servant of her right-hand enforcer.” The being’s presence could be felt through the balcony window. Chrysalis crept closer, narrowing her eyes. “She has commanded me to collect you, so that you might share in her victory.”

“Victory?” Chrysalis spat. “She is dead. A ghost. There is no way—”

“She is planting the Sunspear into the ancient capitol.” The voice was impassive, stating the facts as though reading from a history book. “She alone shall control the sun by the end of the day.”

“Alone?” Chrysalis felt a burning sensation grip her chest. Dread. She could see fire on the horizon, an oncoming, out-of-control blaze intended to consume all in its path. “Doesn’t Ahuizotl have the sun device?”

“When the spear is secure, and the power is restored,” the voice said, “she will destroy those in power until no government remains but the changelings, as in the Second Age. Andean shall be the first to die, and Ahuizotl shall follow.”

Only the glass and a set of drapes separated her from the presence. She hesitated, her hoof poised to pull the curtain aside. “Why does Queen Cicada want me?”

The answer sent chills running along the length of her tail. “You shall raise a new generation of changelings who know nothing of pain and strife. You are the key to Cicada’s perfect future, Chrysalis.”

She swallowed hard. She backed slowly away from the being, hoping that her guards would detect the presence and charge in.

She shook her head. “If I refuse?”

The window burst inward. A mechanical monstrosity strutted into the room, all clicking gears and glowing optics and bladed legs. It matched her adult-disguised size, meeting her eye to artificial eye. A leg reached out for her, but she leaped into the air. “Don’t touch me!”

At that moment, an explosion rocked the castle.

***

Shining Armor stood to his feet as tremors rumbled through the halls. It felt like an entire thunderstorm had unloaded its ammo right in the dining hall. “The girls!”

A Royal Guardspony trampled past. Shining stopped him with a foreleg. “Do you know anything?”

“All I know is there’s an intruder in the dining hall with an enchanted lightning orb.” The soldier continued his march as fast as he could. “That’s all that’s come down the grapevine!”

Shining Armor stomped a hoof. He had to move. Flurry and Amore could be in danger. He turned to knock on the door again; his armor and javelins were in the suite.

Cadence opened the door before he could move.

Husband and wife stared at each other for a critical, painful, eternally short moment. “Cadence…” Shining choked back tears. “I’ve got to—”

“I’m coming, too.” She levitated his armor onto his body. He set about fastening the clasps. A set of silver plates interlocked across her back as well. “We’ll talk later. We have to.”

“Cuss.” He blushed at his wife. “Sorry. Language.”

She shrugged at him. “What can I say? We’re in a real rut, hon.”

She filled his quiver with javelins and attached the weapons to his side. “Is Lance with the girls, do you know?”

“No, he’s in this wing.” Shining took off at a deep stride. “The sooner we put down the intruder, the safer he’ll be.”

***

Rumble opened the door of his and Scootaloo’s shared suite. His injured wing shivered at his side, jolting with occasional shocks of pain. Scootaloo landed on his back to look over his head, and Rainbow Dash hovered over her. The three of them looked up and down the corridor, seeing a massive trample of servants and guardsponies scatter this way and that.

Rumble waved at a passing guard he recognized. “Sturm! What’s up?”

Sturm and his partner Drang slowed, but did not stop. “Intruder alert. Have you seen Prince Silver Lance?”

Rainbow Dash exited the room and rose into the hall’s air-lane. She shadowed her eyes despite the lack of sunlight. “Is he missing? You need help?”

Drang glanced up at her. “We could use an eye in the sky. The attack’s in the dining hall, but we need to secure the royal children.”

Sturm began to walk backwards to keep Rumble in his sights. “You oughta rest up. That wing looks bad.”

“My legs’re fine.” Rumble shut the door behind him, Scootaloo still astride his shoulders. She flitted off and hovered beside Rainbow Dash, flashing a salute with the wrong hoof. “I can take the left corridor if you guys wanna take the right.”

“We’ll meet back here in ten minutes,” Scootaloo said. “If nobody finds him, we can split back up.”

Sturm and Drang nodded, and sped on their way. Scootaloo looked ahead and let out a sigh. “Oog. That’s where the changelings are staying. He probably won’t be there.”

“That’s what we gotta find out.” Rumble set out at a canter. “Just don’t make eye contact with Bugly.”

Rainbow Dash looped overhead and flew upside down. “Which one’s Bugly?”

“The one who really, reeeealy lives up to his name.”

***

Celestia flipped the table with a spell, shielding the children from the shock of the Bolting magic orb. Wood burned away, revealing the solid metal beneath. Her coat stood on end as the Painted One readied another blast. Her guards scrambled towards the villain, but the sheer energy contained within the orb radiated enough electrical power to numb limbs, fling spears from grips, and completely scramble the magic shield surrounding their bodies.

A flash of Celestia’s horn dragged Natter, Sky Wishes, and the injured Slab Bulkhead behind the table. “Get the children out of here! Now!”

Natter could only sputter, but set about his assigned task all the same. He lifted Twilight Amore onto his back, and Sky did the same for Flurry. The children covered their ears as thunder and lightning assailed the dining hall. Bulkhead removed his melted, malformed chest plate and used it as a shield to push their way out of the room, towards the exit.

Celestia climbed over the table with catlike grace. She spread her wings, making a large target out of herself. She drew the Painted One’s eyes immediately, and he sprang into action. A thunderbolt the likes of which would light up the skies of Canterlot shot towards her.

A glistening, round, razor-edged shield halted it in its tracks. The awesome power ricocheted upwards to impact against the ceiling. Another shield floated along beside the first. And another. And yet another.

Celestia stood strong behind a blockade of six shields, each one decorated with the same symbol that made up her cutie mark: A noontide sun. A haze of smoke and static clouded the air between them. “Guardsponies, stand back and wait for the moment to strike!”

***

The sound of volleygun fire filled the sky above the Felaccian capitol. The Blitzwings hunkered down on the spires and battlements, taking aim at the hundreds of bug-shaped Strutters buzzing the castle. For each ship that fell, the hole in the ranks was swiftly swallowed up. They were too small for heavy artillery to hit, so the regulars were scrambling to switch from cannonballs to flak.

Any airship that attempted to flank the mountainside and fire upon the Hesperus Mactans was torched to cinders by the mechanical spider’s lasers.

Each strike of Andean’s sword that managed to pierce Ahuizotl’s defenses collided uselessly with the mad god’s armor. Ahuizotl, too, found Andean’s armor difficult to pierce. Their duel degenerated by the minute into a violent melee of thrown fists and thunderous strikes. An jerked elbow from Ahuizotl flung the Euroclydon from Andean’s loose grip. The pommels of the Wyrmslayer blades came down upon the king’s head, guiding his beak into the stone.

A lionesque roar tore from Andean’s throat. He grasped Ahuizotl by the shoulders and spread his wings. His talons dug into his foe’s shoulders until he was completely locked in. A burst of wind from his wings lifted Ahuizotl into the air, his hind legs barely scraping along the ground.

The hand at the end of Ahuizotl’s tail grasped a Wrymslayer and drove it into Andean’s side. The red-hot tip penetrated the armor and sent a searing pain through the king’s body. Andean tightened his grip and rolled, throwing the both of them to the ground. He nearly had what he wanted. He just needed another moment.

With one Wyrmslayer dropped, Ahuizotl grasped his remaining blade with both forepaws. He levered it between the plates in Andean’s armor, seeking to do permanent, mortal damage. He screeched aloud as Andean’s talons found Ahuizotl’s bone.

With the pain growing too fierce, and his short-term mission nearly accomplished, Andean released the mad god and ran towards Euroclydon. Ahuizotl pursued him every step of the way, his blade blazing and his grin widening.

Andean kicked him in the chin, lifted Euroclydon, and sliced at Ahuizotl’s shoulder.

The clasp for the bejeweled breastplate, weakened by Andean’s attack, severed completely. The armor fell away, exposing Ahuizotl’s chest and back. The mad god stared in wide-eyed shock as Andean drew back for a fatal stab.

A cloud of Strutters broke off from the main group. They positioned themselves behind Ahuizotl and opened fire. Andean lifted his sword to shield his eyes. The blasts had no effect on the blade itself, but they chewed through Andean’s armor. The feathers of one wing charred to useless bristles. The skin of one foreleg was gashed and red.

Captain Crested Barbary descended on the foremost Strutter and sliced the Painted One pilot in twain. He raised his off-talon and fired on the other ships with his four-shot Turner volleygun. Five of the Strutters slumped to the top of the tower, while the others took off in pursuit of the Blitzwing captain.

With one talon refusing to work properly, and one wing out of commission, Andean gripped the hilt of Euroclydon in one claw and lay the blade across the other foreleg. Ahuizotl shrugged of the pain in his shoulders as he twirled both Wyrmslayers.

The mad god smiled. “You’re only going to embarrass yourself, Your Grace. Shut your eyes, and I shall make a clean slice.”

Andean narrowed his eyes. “You’re the fool who’s cornered a predator.”

“Your troops are struggling to make headway, and I control the skies.” He raised a saber heavenward. “Soon I shall be lord of the skies!”

Andean jabbed, and Ahuizotl deflected. A downward strike from the mad god prompted Andean to raise his blade to intercept. He just as quickly stabbed Euroclydon towards the ground to block the lower follow-up attack.

The mad god and the griffon king circled each other, each far more wary now that their armor had been destroyed. One wrong move spelled death for the both of them.

***

Button Mash flinched as a Strider hit the ground beside him. He continued his mad run towards Cicada and Sweetie Belle, blood dripping from a debris-given cut on his forehead. Blankety moved alongside him, moving as fast as he could despite the cracks in his carapace. Martial ran rather than try flying through a sky full of lasers. He cast glances back at Ahuizotl and his uncle, his attention not split so much as fractured.

“You can’t kill that thing,” Caballeron said to Button. “Cicada’s not a creature anymore. She’s all but a fairy, giving life to a suit of mechanical armor.”

“We don’t have to kill her to save Sweetie.” Button sucked in a gulp of air. “We just have to stop the sun device from plugging in.”

The four of them skidded to a halt. Antlike Striders scurried across the castle roof, their red eyes trained on the Knights and their allies.

Blankety pulled Martial’s bag open and hastily handed out potions to each of them. “E-explosives! Aim for the feet!”

Button took a jar of the bubbling liquid and scanned for a target. There! A Strider prepping its laser cannon! He launched the potion with an overhand throw and hit somewhere behind the target. The blast was instantaneous and devastating. Three Striders buckled, their metal hide bent out of shape.

Caballeron grinned. “Clear a path!”

Several potions arced into the mob of mechanical foot soldiers. Those that did not scatter were blown to pieces. The four of them charged through the newly-formed gap, leaping over melting legs and broken gears. Still, more Striders moved to fill the space. Button sidestepped a swipe from a sword-like leg. A green potion broke against the ground, from which sprang a large, multi-vined piranha plant. The vine tangled up with the automatons, growing tighter with each Strutter that struggled.

Button’s eyes lit up. “Those are Apple Bloom’s potions?”

Martial grunted as he blocked a strike with his rapier. “Perceptive.”

Button eased himself behind Caballeron so that the older stallion could get in close with his spur. “Did she give you any Balloon Juice?”

Martial scowled. “Balloon Juice?”

“J-just one vial,” Blankety said. He passed the requested potion to Button. “Wh-why?”

“It has a funny reaction to magic…” Button hefted the vial and gritted his teeth. “Can one of you guys break this in midair?”

Martial pulled his Turner from his belt. “I’ll handle it.”

Button took aim at the largest cluster of Strutters. “Say when.”

Martial closed one eye. “Pull!”

Button launched the vial over the crowd. Martial sucked in a breath, held it, and squeezed the trigger. The vial shattered, and a clear liquid showered the Strutters.

One by one, the automatons began to float in midair. They tumbled, their legs scrambling for purchase. Before long, dozens of Striders littered the sky, causing trouble for the airborne ships buzzing the Felaccian defenses.

Caballeron lowered his eyebrows. “What in the blazes?”

“Balloon Juice. It reacts with the heart’s magic to make a pony lighter than air.” Button let out a titter of relief. “I guess it still works when there’s just a heart.”

“And you said you only had one vial?”

Button turned, his ears laid across his head. The voice had been feminine, mechanical, and quite bug-like. He looked up, up, up to see Cicada’s armored head bearing down on him.

“Good,” Cicada said. She hit Button with a mean right cross.

Martial fired a volleygun slug right into her chest, but it pattered harmlessly to the ground. He stuck the Turner back into his belt and swung his rapier, scouring Cicada’s shell with the tip of his blade. A kinetic blast of force hit him in the chest, followed by a gearbox-powered kick.

Caballeron and Blankety grasped her hind legs to weigh her down. Martial directed a thrust into her neck, but found no flesh to pierce. Her jaw opened, contorted, and clasped around his blade. She wrenched her head to the side, snapping his wootz rapier.

Martial clutched the hilt of his severed blade, his face turning a pretty shade of purple. “Why do you mechanical types keep breaking my bloody swords?”

She answered with a headbutt that sent his beak chattering. He batted at her with his wings as he backpedaled.

Button grasped an explosive potion from the bag. He reeled back to chuck it at the queen. His hoof stopped halfway through its arc. A sickly green glow surrounded his foreleg. He gaped in horror as it drew closer to his mouth, until the rounded bottle was placed firmly between his teeth.

Caballeron and Blankety released the queen. Martial halted, rubbing his beak ruefully. Button felt his heartrate increase by the second as sweat pooled on the tips of his mane.

River Cicada turned to Sweetie, who stood by the Sunspear, surrounded by Strutters. “Well, Miss Belle? Is this the incentive you desire?”

***

Stella stared out the rear viewport of the Corona airship. Roc burned behind them, the fires from the castle intermingling with cannonfire and crashing Strutters. Corona put her talons on her little sister’s shoulders. If she looked hard, she could see the blue lightning of their father’s sword clashing with the red fire of Ahuizotl’s.

They were on the last ship to leave Roc. The other lords and ladies of the Felaccian court had dispersed, leaving them to ride with Lord Morphnus Barbary, whose younger brother captained the Blitzwings. The Barbarys and the Ursagryphs had long been allies and friends, trustworthy to one another.

Less trustworthy were the other two lords joining them; Aquila Gildwing and Bubo Tigris. These two had history with nearly all the lords. Corona half-suspected they had been placed aboard the Corona so that she and Morphnus could keep an eye on them.

But she found great difficulty taking her eyes off the battle.

“If we were going by sheer numbers…” Aquila’s iron beak clicked in time with his syllables. “Ahuizotl’s forces have the clear advantage. More machines continue to pour from the flyder.”

Tigris rested his considerable bulk against the twisted wooden cane he kept by his side. His owlish eyes blinked, a gray fog coating them. “Many good griffon lives will be lost today. It seems Ahuizotl was as prepared for this eventuality as Andean was.”

Corona swallowed hard. She looked over the city below, which lay quiet despite the destruction. “Sending the people into the caves spared us needless loss.”

Stella pulled away from Corona. She wiped her eyes and huddled on a chair facing the cliffs.

Morphnus looked at the little griffon. He spoke at a half-whisper to Corona, out of the side of his beak. “Some might say all loss is needless.”

Corona grasped her beak. She released it just enough to speak quietly. “Some don’t know how the world works, sir. What it takes to stop evil.”

Tigris coughed in the back of his throat. “You believe this Ahuizotl to be… evil?”

“He has no goodness in him, Lord Tigris.” Corona gestured to the battle. “If he had, this could have been avoided.”

“Bah.” Aquila Gildwing waved a dismissive talon. “Andean had always planned to fight Ahuizotl. If not, he would not have sent us away, nor would he have prepared our army. The entire alliance was a farce.”

“Good,” Stella muttered.

The red blade bit into the blue sword. Euroclydon’s lightning struck the castle.

Corona clenched her fist and rested it against the window pane. The Hesperus Mactans billowed with yet more reinforcements. The defenders of Roc—of Felaccia—would soon be overrun. Wiped out. To a griffon. The regulars, the Blitzwings…

Father…

Her talon opened and rested against the spot where she could see her father. She clicked her beak. “Isn’t there more we can do?”

“You father ordered our evacuation.” Morphnus shrugged, his voice strained. She could see in his eyes that Crested Barbary was on his mind. “I fear my hands are tied, or I face the wrath of the king.”

“Indeed,” Aquila scoffed. “Imagine the punishment we would draw if his little treasures were in any way damaged.”

Morphnus lowered his ears. His frown was more heard than seen. “You don’t have children, do you, Aquila?”

“I had a daughter.” Aquila Gildwing turned away, talking a seat at a small bar built into the observation room. “Once upon a time.”

Morphnus waited for him to continue. When the wait proved fruitless, he let out a small “tsk” and stood beside Corona at the viewport.

The elder princess ground her beak. “They’re too busy fighting the strike craft. If they connect the Sunspear, Roc is gone.”

Morphnus furrowed his brow, his talon cradling his chin. “If only we had more reinforcements—”

“Corona!” Stella hopped up in her seat and pointed to the west. “Look! Look out there!”

Corona flew across the room. She placed her talons on the back of Stella’s chair and looked across the cliffs surrounding Roc. There, in the distance—ships?

Morphnus Barbary peered at the flotilla. “It seems to be an entire navy. But whose?”

Bubo Tigris leaned forward. “Reinforcements? Allies?”

Corona spotted the flagship and deciphered its colors immediately. “It’s Equestria! Princess Luna came to help!”

“What?” Tigris’ beak snapped shut with a resounding clack! “Ponies? Coming to our aid? Idiocy!”

“Idiocy?” Morphnus glared at Tigris over his shoulder. “Have we not collaborated with them time and again? The defense of the Saddle Arabian border—”

“Idiocy to allow their military entrance into our country.” Bubo Tigris slapped his cane against the floor. “I’ll not see Felaccia become a protectorate of Equestria!”

Corona hovered in midair before the aged griffon. “But Luna’s forces could be just the push we need to turn the tide—”

“They’re not coming,” Aquila said.

The others turned to him, all silent, all pensive. Aquila took a swig of his drink and shook his head. “I saw them an hour ago. They haven’t moved.”

Stella spun her chair around, gripping the back in her tiny claws. “Well then somebody’s gotta call them! We can radio Luna right now!”

“No!” Tigris stood from his chair, his back creaking audibly. “I forbid it!”

Corona landed before him, dwarfed by his mass. “How can you say that? If they don’t know—”

“If we let them into Felaccia,” Tigris shouted, “they will destroy the sun device!” He returned to his seat, letting out a dusty breath. “And then the world shall be lost.” He stared at each griffon in turn, his talons tapping against his cane. “We shall follow the king’s plan for as long as we are able. Clear?”

Corona turned her back on him, unable to fight with that thought. Not with any hope of success. Of course Luna would destroy the sun device. She had shown, time and time again, that she would fight tooth and hoof against anything that threatened her family.

But weren’t Corona and Stella also her family?

Corona wasn’t sure anymore.

***

The violence around Sweetie Belle brought back memories of her childhood, oddly enough. It seemed like the Cutie Mark Crusaders were caught up in every madcap battle and adventure that found its way to Equestria. The Changeling Invasion and later the Changeling Civil War. The Return of Nightmare Moon. The Conquest of the Storm King. Tirek’s Rampage. Discord’s—um—existence.

They’d always faced them together.

But Sweetie was alone.

Worse than alone. She had people relying on her. Button’s silent scream gnawed at her heart. He seemed to be pleading with her not to sing. She knew he would be the first to willingly sacrifice himself to prevent Cicada from winning. To prevent a madcreature from controlling the sun. He would give up his life to defend his home, his people, his friends.

So Sweetie knew she had to do everything in her power to keep him alive.

Andean and Ahuizotl clashed in the near distance. Strutters gathered, ready to slay in an instant. A battle raged across the skies. Sweetie Belle closed her eyes to put the chaos from her mind. She focused on the hearts beating within the Sunspear. They beat at irregular rhythms, fear clouding their lives. She couldn’t give them peace, but Sweetie could give them direction. She could give them purpose and drive.

With the sounds of war offering percussion, Sweetie opened her mouth. She lent rhyme to the rhythm as the song slipped from her lips.

“The mournful siren
Fights a battle that won’t see an end
Time grows short
Power reveals
The weight of all I apprehend

“The mournful siren
Fights a battle for total control
So hear my song
And heed my voice
Your misbegotten role”

She felt it immediately. The hearts within the Sunspear beat with one accord, in conjunction with her own. The pace was feverish. Her breath grew short. She turned venomous eyes upon the impassive queen of the changelings, gritting her teeth as the song radiated through the battlefield.

“Standing tall
Heroes fall
Sin revealed, pain congealed!

“Reject the past
Realize at last
You’ve been defeated, kneel and yield!”

With the volume of a full orchestra, the power of a mighty chorus pealed out from the hearts. Not just the ones trapped in the sun device, but those contained within the Strutters. Their spiraling patterns revolved around the castle, their weapons falling in with the rhythm.

Griffon voices joined in. The entire city echoed with the chorus, even as the violence raged.

“The mournful siren
Fights a battle that won’t see an end
Time grows short
Power reveals
The weight of all she apprehends

“The mournful siren
Fights a battle for total control
So hear her song
And heed her voice
Our misbegotten role”

Sweetie Belle walked towards Cicada, slowly and surely. The queen took a single step back, her head swiveling to take in the actions of her forces. Her horns glowed, and her voice projected. “Return to the battle! Annihilate the defenders!”

Sweetie Belle drew close to Button, who tried with all his might to take his hoof away from his face. Cicada’s spell maintained its hold, inches away from ending his life.

“Your passion lacks
Taken aback
Since all along you’ve been wrong!

“So full of hate
Denied your fate
Fall to pieces in my song!”

Panic-stricken expressions fell across Blankety, Caballeron, and Martial as their voices sang alongside hers, lifting up lyrics they didn’t know. Ahuizotl and Andean’s swordplay slowed as they, too, were caught up in the natural siren’s song. The only ones not singing were Button and Cicada.

Sweetie couldn’t worry about that. She had the hearts aligned with hers. She needed only command them. But how? She’d never consciously directed anybody before. She hadn’t dared! It was an invasion of privacy, a mockery of free-will! But she was desperate. So very desperate.

“The mournful siren
Fights a battle that won’t see an end
Time grows short
Power reveals
The weight of all she apprehends

“The mournful siren
Fights a battle for total control
So hear her song
And heed her voice
Our misbegotten role”

A massive clatter of mechanical parts sounded behind Sweetie. She spun and beheld horror. The hearts had acted without her intervention. The Sunspear’s metallic talons extended and seated itself within the mounting port. Power flowed from deep within the core of the mountain to the changeling device. Green magic tinged the edges of the sun device; Sweetie realized with a start that Cicada had been controlling it throughout the song.

River Cicada sang. It had not the power or influence of Sweetie’s siren song, but served instead to dispel its effects.

“A flimsy whim
A shattered hymn
Your deepest cries all defied!

“You’ve lost your chance
A failed romance
Your final struggle is a lie!”

With her attention weakened, Button was finally able to break out of Cicada’s grip. He spat the explosive potion to the ground, where it rolled across the tower. He scrambled after it, grasping with blunt hooves. He overshot it, falling to his chin.

Sweetie’s horn shimmered. She pushed the bottle beside his hoof. When it connected, he kicked on instinct. The potion flew straight for the center of Cicada’s chest. The deposed queen reacted with a fiery spell.

The ensuing explosion knocked Sweetie Belle off her feet.

Her ears rang. Her eyes clouded with blurry whiteness. Her mind seemed clear; emptied. She couldn’t quite remember what happened. Strange sensations touched her limbs. Was somebody shouting at her? She seemed to be lying still on stone—she couldn’t have been dead. Wetness trickled from beneath her mane.

A sturdy paw clasped around her throat, cutting off any questions. Blueness filled her vision. A smell like dead fish and burning oil stung her nostrils.

Ahuizotl held her tight to his chest. Singed patches of fur covered the mad god from his battle with Andean. He looked back over his shoulder; the griffon king’s roar could be heard fast approaching.

Cicada pointed a metallic hoof to the edge of the battlements. “Take her away from here! Silence her song and get the Sunspear operational! I’ll deal with the king!”

Ahuizotl appeared uncertain for a moment, like he wanted to counter her order with one of his own. His eyes fell upon the Sunspear. A spark appeared in the depths of his blackened soul. A grimacing smile overtook his face. Sweetie knew exactly what he wanted most: Control of the sun. It was so close. So nearly within his grasp.

Ahuizotl leaped over the side of the tower, his killer claws digging into the stone to slow his descent.

***

Button Mash spat out a tooth. He wasn’t too concerned with it. A visit to Zecora would have his dental facilities right as rain in no time flat. He was more concerned with the massive griffon king bearing down on his position.

Andean swung his sword in a wide arc. Thunder and lightning played across the blade. Electricity sent Button’s mane standing on end. It was not Button that Andean was aiming for—it was Queen Cicada. She sidestepped the sword as she commanded Ahuizotl to retreat.

Button let out a cry of rage as Ahuizotl leaped from the parapets, Sweetie Belle clutched in his massive paws.

He had to follow. But how? The walls were practically sheer stone. He’d have to grow wings in order to—

He looked across the tower’s top. The dragonfly-shaped Strutters left behind by Crested Barbary’s rescue remained quiet. Lifeless, if only for the Painted Ones draped across the controls. A closer look revealed that power still flowed through their systems. They were primed and ready to fly.

The shriek of magic against metal raked across his ears. Andean had finally connected with the queen, but a shield of green fire protected her from harm. She responded with a blast of infernal energies that scorched his already-damaged wing.

Orange, honeycombed panels protruded from Cicada’s back. She rose into the air on the mechanical wings, out of Andean’s reach. He screeched at her and pointed the blade, but his attack was completely ineffectual.

“Andean Ursagryph,” Cicada said, her voice loud enough for all to hear, “for defying the sovereignty of the Changeling Empire, for defying the will of its queen, for preventing proper use of the Sunspear, for harboring ill will to the world, I sentence you to death.”

Andean clutched a bleeding wound with one talon while the other swung Euroclydon. “Then slay me if you can, deposed queen! I shall fight you ‘til my final hour! Felaccia will never surrender! Felaccia lives on!”

The Hesperus Mactans climbed over the edge of the castle. A series of magic cannons swiveled to point at Andean Ursagryph. Their glow turned blinding white.

Button’s voice cracked. “Your Grace, look out!”

Martial picked himself off the ground. He sprinted for his uncle, his talons digging into the stone dust.

Cicada spoke quietly. “Felaccia lives long. But I live forever.”

Andean stabbed Euroclydon into the ground. A shield of electricity surrounded him, Button, Blankety, Caballeron, and Martial, just before the Hesperus Mactans hit its mark. The ground around them erupted in ash and brimstone, while the ground beneath them crumbled.

They fell into fire and smoke, and darkness engulfed them.

***

“Papa!” Stella screeched, her tiny fists pounding the viewscreen. “Papa, no!”

Corona saw it all. Her eagle-sharp vision watched as her father and the other defenders disappeared in an explosion of raw magic power. Half of the tower caved in on itself, but the Sunspear stood tall.

And there a mechanical monster hovered, her magic guiding the attack on Roc. Her horns flashed as she tweaked something on the Sunspear, then she flew into the mouth of the giant flyder-shaped automaton straddling the castle.

Bubo Tigris leaned on his cane with a weighty sigh. “So the battle is lost, then. We must retreat and gather our armies to take back the capitol.”

Words sprang to Corona’s mouth, but she swallowed them down. Every fiber of her being said to fight. Every ounce of her will was put to work preventing such an outburst.

Lord Morphnus Barbary was silent for a moment, obviously taken aback by the sight of Andean disappearing in such a violent manner. He looked to the other side of Roc, where the Regulars were fighting with the same fervor that they’d started the battle with. “We still have enough troops to put up a fight. It’s not over yet.”

“Are you mad?” Aquila Gildwing tossed a cup to the ground. It was made of plastic, so it bounced rather than shattered. He gazed at it with mild scorn, then glowered at Morphnus. “That… thing working with Ahuizotl has taken control of the sun device. Those griffons are as good as dead. We shall be as good as dead if we do not make haste.”

Corona looked out across the sea. She could still see Luna’s armada. Luna could control the sun. Maybe she could prevent the sun device from firing?

But that would be tantamount to handing the sun device over to her.

Would it be worth it?

“We have to save Papa.” Stella grabbed Corona’s arm. “Tell them, Corona! We have to go back and make sure he’s okay.”

Corona’s throat constricted. “Papa can take care of himself.”

“But he can’t take care of everybody by himself.” Stella tugged Corona to the viewport closest to the sea. “Luna can help. She always said she would. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt us.” A serious expression overtook Stella’s face. Her voice grew low. “She would do the right thing, Corona. I know she would.”

Corona clicked her beak. “But what is the right thing?”

“You know what it is.” Stella nodded. “You just gotta admit it to yourself.”

Corona looked across the ocean. The flotilla awaited word from Felaccia. She could see ponies ready for war. Ready to defend.

Lord Tigris twisted a knob on a radio waiting beside his chair. He spoke into the mic with the immense gravitas that befit the situation. “This is Bubo Tigris, Steward of Felaccia. I order the Stella and Corona to move, full speed ahead. Roc is lost.”

“What of the Equestrian Navy, My Lord?”

Bubo sighed from the depths of his soul. “Tell them to go home. They are not wanted in Felaccia.”

“Belay that order!”

Shame immediately washed over Corona’s face as the lords look on. Total shock was an understatement. They were astonished.

Bubo in particular was incensed. “Know your place, girl. Your father is no longer on the throne. As acting king, I command—”

“I am the eldest daughter of Andean Ursagryph.” Corona spread her red-feathered wings. “I have just as much a claim to the throne as you, Lord Tigris. Perhaps a greater claim.”

Aquila stood from the bar. He moved to stand beside Bubo, his talon on the hilt of his sword.

Stella made an attempt to stand by Corona’s side. She was stopped by Morphnus, who laid a claw on her shoulder. He shook his head, motioning to wait.

“You are yet a child of sixteen.” Tigris tapped his cane with a blue ring he wore around one talon. “You are in far over your head, girl.”

Corona indicated the armada with a wingtip. “Look! Equestria waits to jump in and help us save Roc! To save Felaccia and the world! To save the griffons fighting and those trapped in the caves!” She strode forward until she was eye-to-eye with Bubo. “Luna can control the sun. This is nothing new. With her at our side, we have a chance of actually stopping the sun device!”

Bubo Tigris growled deep in his throat. “She will stop it by destroying it.”

Corona shook her head. “I believe she will do the right thing.”

Lord Tigris snarled. “She will not get the chance.”

“As Acting Queen—” Corona held out a talon towards the ancient lord. “—I order you to contact the Equestrian navy.”

Aquila Gildwing drew his saber and menaced Corona with its blade. “The crown is won through bloodshed, little girl! Not through posturing or birthright! If you seek the crown, you must be willing to bear arms!”

Morphnus lanced a blade between the two of them, carrying Aquila’s point away from Corona’s chest. “Do not draw a blade on the king’s daughter, Aquila! You’ll be forced to contend with all the people of Felaccia for such a foul action.”

Aquila drew his saber back, metal shrieking against metal. “If the brat wishes to pretend herself an adult, then she should suffer the consequences of adulthood!”

Corona jumped into the air and hovered, her red-trimmed wings brimming with magic. “Then I accept your challenge for the crown!”

Morphnus gaped at her, his sword dropping to the ground. “Is now really the time—?”

“I have a chance to save Roc. To mend the broken ties between Felaccia and Equestria. To rescue my father!” Corona flew to the corner of the observation room. She took her spear off its sling and gripped it tight in both talons. She landed before Aquila and Bubo in a ready stance. “I’ll fight you, Aquila, and you, Bubo, and whoever else desires the throne. It belongs to the Ursagryphs!”

Aquila shoved Morphnus away. He charged with his wings flapping, and his iron beak snapping. Corona flipped her spear end-over-end and impacted the bottom of his chin. She swung her body around to slice his sword-talon, disarming him. She leaped up to press the spear haft against his throat, and threw him to the ground.

She unclipped the iron beak and tossed it across the room. A solid punch to the side of the head left him dazed.

Corona returned to her ready stance and faced Bubo.

“Please, Lord Tigris,” she said quietly. “We have a chance to make things right.”

Bubo Tigris gave an unimpressed glance to the unconscious Aquila on the floor. “I can see that you cannot be stopped, Princess Ursagryph. That, like your father, you shall fight until death takes you.” He raised his talon to look at the blue ring he owned. It brimmed with magical energy, ready to strike. “But you are not your father. Nor are you yet queen.”

He tapped his cane against the deck. “I cannot stop you, but I shall take no part in your defense of Roc. Whatever you do shall be of your own accord. I shall pray that the Ursagryphs do not leave Felaccia a pile of ashes.”

Corona grasped the radio and called the control room. “Yes, operator? This is Princess Corona! I need you to contact the Equestrian fleet! Get me a line straight to Luna!”

She waited a tense moment. Before long, though, a familiar voice hailed on the other side of the signal. “Corona? What is the meaning of this? We were just told to leave.”

“Things have changed, Princess Luna!” Corona said in Equestrian. “They’ve connected the sun device! You might be the only hope to save Felaccia! Please, come. Please help us fight Ahuizotl!”

Bubo bowed his head and shook it, gripping his staff close to his chest. He stood up and slowly shuffled from the room, while Morphnus could do nothing but watch in total silence.

Princess Corona Ursagryph stood before the battle flaring in the distance, her spear in one talon, and the radio receiver in the other. Her wings spread, and specks of light glistened on the ends of the feathers. Stella stood beside her, brandishing a small rapier. The sisters shared a small, quick smile.

“As acting queen, I would like to formally invite the Equestrian Armed Forces to aid us in the defense of Roc.” Corona slammed the butt of her spear against the deck. “Felaccia calls for aid!”

***

“Felaccia calls for aid!”

Luna stared at the cliffsides that made up the natural border of the Kingdom of Felaccia. “And Equestria will answer her.” Despite herself, a small smile crawled its way across her lips. She lowered the radio mic and hailed the ponies under her command with the Royal Canterlot Voice. “All hands on deck! Make way for Roc! For the defeat of Ahuizotl! For the rights of the Sapient! For the defense of our friends! For the sake of Harmony! My Little Ponies, we sail at once!”

Apple Bloom struggled to buckle her armor, before a gentle spell from Luna’s horn set it right. Apple Bloom nodded her thanks, then strapped a bag of potions over her shoulder.

“Stay by my side, Apple Bloom. We shall see our fair share of action.” Luna set a golden helmet on her head. Her armor shimmered as a field of magic fell around her body. “Keep an eye out for Sweetie and Button, but do not let your guard down.”

“Yes ma’am, Princess Luna.” Apple Bloom’s helmet didn’t quite sit right on her head at first, but after a moment, the armor resized itself to suit her. “I been meanin’ to ask, why ain’t you got a weapon?”

“On the contrary, Apple Bloom. I am the most heavily armed pony on the field of battle.” The princess tapped her horn. “I carry my entire arsenal with me at all times. I was personally trained in the art of combat by Clover the Clever herself.”

She stood at the prow of the Buttercup’s Folly, the wind kicking at her mane and tail. “Trust me, Apple Bloom, when I say that you are about to witness some serious horseapples.”

Author's Note

Sweetie's Siren Song is set to the tune of "The World is Mine" from Batman: the Brave and the Bold.

Yes, I'm serious.

The Hero's Relic

The magic around Celestia’s horn flickered with each bolt that struck her six shields. Every magnetic object in the room careened at random intervals. Her pinkish mane stood on end as she redirected her shields, moving as fast as a blink. The Painted One’s rate of fire was constrained by his ability to actually cast the magic. A telling flick of the eye, the tensing of a muscle, a breath too short—all spoke loud and clear where Celestia needed to move.

The breathless mage stumbled, and Celestia caught an opportunity. She launched a shield like a discus, low and quick, which struck one of his hind legs. He howled as he toppled, the Bolting magic orb lighting up with a hasty shield. An aimless bolt shot out faster than she could react. The pure electric energy burned a gash into her side.

Celestia fell to her knees and crawled back, her shields overlapping in an armored shell. The shields were made of the same material as royal guard armor, and so formed a magical barrier as they touched. Debris fell from the ceiling, clattering against the metal plates. Lapsus rose, his Bolting gripped close to his chest. Blood pooled at the base of his hind leg, running the magic tattoos covering his body.

His eyes glowed brilliant blue as he fired the Bolting again. And again. And again. He beat at Celestia’s cover with all his magical might. The room shivered and shook, pillars cracking and banisters crumbling.

Celestia waited as the gaps between the spells grew longer. The feathers on her wings singed before she was able to detect hesitation. She took a breath, held it, and then released it at the same time the spell ceased.

Six shields rained down on Lapsus, scouring his hide. Some bounced off his barrier, but many strikes found their way through. Sometimes a bladed edge caught his torso, sometimes a flat smashed against his head. The paint around his face and forelegs radiated, shrugging off some blows while dulling others.

Celestia intensified her attack with all the magic energy at her disposal. Every ounce of her energy went into defying physics; redirecting the shields faster than most thought possible. The battering became a torrent, but the Painted One fought on. Her eyes and her foe’s met, and she knew he had found an opening.

The next lightning bolt struck her in her scarred chest. Her back impacted the metallic table, then went through it. Her shields scattered as they fell from her telekinetic grip.

Slowly, achingly, she stood to her feet. She glared daggers of pure fire at the Painted One. “Even a pegasus can withstand a lightning bolt, foal. I am so much more!”

Lapsus, Lieutenant of the Painted Ones, steeled himself with his good hind leg. “But can you withstand a hurricane?”

Celestia raised her head, her horn alight. She dragged her shields through the air to hover at her side. “I have weathered such once before. And you are no Hurricane.”

“Daddy!”

Celestia saw out of the corner of her eye; Twilight Amore and Flurry Heart were at the entrance of the dining hall. They were so close to safety, though they dodged more debris and lightning by the second. Through the door, reinforcements approached in the form of a fully-armored Shining Armor and Mi Amore Cadenza. Celestia allowed herself a small sense of satisfaction. The Painted One was, in layponies’ terms, screwed.

Lapsus howled as he swung the Bolting. “Let the earth tremble!”

The blast struck not Celestia or the guardsponies, but the archway above the entrance. Already weakened by the battle, the arch collapsed, blocking the doorway. Slab Bulkhead skidded to a halt inches from becoming a pony pancake. Natter was struck by a chunk of marble and fell to his face. Twilight Amore fell from his back, but he was quick to shield her with his body. Alongside Flurry and Sky Wishes, they cowered beside the ruined door as Lapsus prepared another spell.

Celestia flung her shields across the room to protect them as a dozen guardsponies did likewise. As she did, she kept her attention on Lapus. He did exactly what she was expecting: While the others rushed to the aid of the children, he redirected his attack towards the High Princess. Celestia let her grip on the shields drop, and charged up a spell of a different nature.

She vanished in a cloud of sparkles, and the lightning bolt passed through unhindered.

She reappeared behind Lapsus. She struck out with both hind legs, and connected with his flank. He caught himself at the end of his inglorious flight, but just barely. His forehead drenched with sweat, his chest heaving, he struck the ground with the Bolting.

Lightning traced its way through the ground until it touched Celestia’s hooves. Jolts of paint shot into her limbs on a warpath towards her heart. She moved to jump, but it was too late. A scream tore its way unbidden from her throat as her heart missed a beat, two beats, three… A guard tackled Lapsus from behind, but was immediately rebuffed.

A shield slammed itself into the side of the Painted One’s head, guided by a shock of yellow magic. It returned the way it came in short order, striking him a second time. He coughed, his mouth uttering unintelligible profanity. He and Celestia both looked to see the source of the attack. Celestia’s eyes went wide with fear.

Flurry Heart gripped the shields in a loose cloud of protection, her oversized horn sparkling with the effort. The young filly’s eyes were wet with tears. She spoke with gasping sobs. “I won’t let you hurt Auntie Celestia!”

Celestia fought to stand, but slumped limply to the floor. “Flurry, no—”

Lapsus gave the High Princess a dismissive snort. He turned to the younger princess, cold ruthlessness washing over his every movement. “Then the alicorns shall drop like flies.”

***

Chrysalis II burst from her room with the mechanoid tight on her heels. Its laser cannon rose from its open back, a light charge emanating from its barrel. She nearly bowled Silver Lance over in her haste. The young colt screamed and threw a box of chocolates at the monster. A shot from his weapon dissolved the chocolate into ashes.

Bugly grabbed the colt and threw him bodily down the hall. He snapped orders at his soldiers without a moment’s pause. “Tackle! Weigh it down! Suck the life from the blasted thing!”

The changelings reacted before the final word had left his mouth. A dozen-odd changelings dogpiled the automaton with a synchronized leap. The struggle appeared as a churning mass of chitin and wings, with only the occasional mechanical limb protruding.

Chrysalis stood still as her soldiers battled for her life. She froze, her muscles refusing every command her mind gave them. Fight? Flee? Scream? Cry? She could do nothing but watch.

“Queen Chrysalis the Second.” Hoofsteps accompanied a harsh voice from down the hall. “You have an appointment in Felaccia.”

Two stallions approached, each holding a glowing orb; one red, the other blue. The foremost stallion raised the orb to light his face. Painted, like one of Ahuizotl’s goons. “I am Confuto, High Priest of the Once and Future Queen. She has summoned you to her reborn Kingdom of the Changelings. Return with us, and we will bring no harm to your allies.”

That much was already a lie. The automaton slammed itself against the wall to injure and fling off her guards. Bugly bit down on its head, eliciting a gear-grinding squeal.

Silver Lance appeared from between her forelegs. He rubbed his chin and looked up. “I think you can take them.”

Confuto snarled, waving his companion back. He raised his magic orb, from which radiated unbearable heat. “Resist, and your companions will face the wrath of Bolganone!”

Before Chrysalis could respond, a rainbow of light streaked down the corridor. It struck Confuto in the chest and carried him back several meters. The Bolganone rolled away, towards her and Lance.

The other Painted One—the whispers of his heart revealed his name as Insurgo—drew back from the violence and readied his shimmering blue orb.

Wind swept past Chrysalis as a strong stallion charged past her. He met Insurgo with a headbutt and attempted to knock the orb from his hooves. The Painted One entangled the stallion with a swift grapple, and then used his own weight to flip him head-over-tail. A shout of pain left the stallions throat.

“Rumble!” A young mare hovered overhead, her orange coat contrasting with her purple wings. “Don’t be a dummy! Hit him where it hurts!” She then zipped over to put her hooves on Chrysalis’ shoulders. “Hi, name’s Scootaloo. You really gotta go, Your Worshipfulness!”

Sounds of struggle echoed down the hallway. The rainbow blur and Confuto traded blows, the rainbow-clad mare swinging with Carrote-style attacks. She was far nimbler than the muscular stallion she fought, but he shrugged off each blow with a shimmer of his painted coat.

Rumble managed to get behind Insurgo and put him in a headlock, but the Painted One threw the both of them against the wall. A heavily-bandaged wing hit unyielding marble, and pain flashed across Rumble’s face.

The rainbow-maned mare shouted over her shoulder. “Scootaloo! Use the magic orb!”

“Uh.” Scootaloo scooped up the Bolganone and held it aloft. “Yeah! I got it! Thanks, Dash!”

She reeled back, swung hard, and clobbered Insurgo across the jaw with the thing. He crumbled to the floor with blood dribbling out his nose. His blue orb bounced down the hallway as Rumble slumped to his rump.

Rainbow Dash tilted her head. She blocked a downward strike from Confuto. “That’s not really how it works, Scoot!”

Scootaloo tossed the orb to herself. She helped an aching Rumble to his feet. “I found it effective.”

Confuto snarled. “Dissero! Fire at will!”

The automaton whirred and stood. The cannon swiveled, seeking any target it could lay its gaze upon. Bugly released the head and blocked the cannon with a cloven hoof. “Get out of here, my queen! We’ll hold them back!”

Confuto rolled out of Rainbow Dash’s range, and into touching distance of the blue orb. He laid a hoof on it just as Dash caught up. Her next blow met with a wall of ice that separated her from the others. She slammed her hooves into it, but didn’t leave so much as a scuff on the frictionless surface

Frost covered every surface of the corridor. Spikes of ice jutted out at odd intervals. The cold crept its way towards Chrysalis, mirroring the ice in her heart. Soon, if she didn’t do anything, she would be figuratively and literally frozen to the floor.

Confuto chuffed as he stretched out his foreleg. “I had intended to burn you in the blaze of Bolganone. Just as fitting that you fade in the frost of Fimbulvetr!”

Scootaloo lifted Bolganone. The orb flickered and faded as she attempted to pump her magic into it. Insurgo leaped up and grappled with her. She tried to fly back, but he was too heavy for her to lift. Rumble attempted to tackle him shoulder-first, but Insurgo kicked his bad wing with a hind leg. Rumble slipped on the icy floor and collapsed to his belly.

In the struggle, Insurgo’s hood fell from his head. Scootaloo lunged forward to bite his ear. She twisted her head this way and that as the Painted One howled. The Bolganone remained trapped between them, neither willing or able to let go.

Chrysalis felt a tug on her tail. The small voice of Silver Lance called out to her. “Come on! Into the room! The window’s open!”

Confuto stalked towards them. He stepped around the dazed Rumble and the yet-struggling Scootaloo and Insurgo. Dissero screeched with mechanical whirrings as the changelings used their full might just to keep him from moving. Confuto scowled at Chrysalis. “I tire of this nonsense. Dissero, kill them.”

Dissero’s cannon fired. Bugly was launched against the wall, his foreleg a smoldering wreck. The cannon fired twice more, and two more changelings fell.

Bugly wheezed. “My Queen, run!”

The frost of Fimbulvetr coated the changeling soldiers. Three fell to the ground, frozen solid. The others found themselves bucked from Dissero’s back. With his newfound freedom, the automaton turned his cannon towards Scootaloo. The point glowed with magic, ready to fire.

Chrysalis stared at her fallen soldiers. She looked to Rainbow Dash, attempting to beat her way through solid ice. She saw Rumble and Scootaloo struggling for their life and hers. Her blood boiled. This was wrong! This wasn’t how things were supposed to turn out! She couldn’t let it end like this!

She wreathed her horn in swaths of fiery changeling magic. She gripped the end of Dissero’s cannon and forced it upward. The magic lanced out, past Confuto, past Scootaloo and Insurgo, to the ice at the far side of the corridor. Cracks appeared, followed by a resounding crash as the structure collapsed.

Rainbow shot in like a bolt of thunder, a fruit bat outta heck. Her mass connected with Insurgo and carried him down the hallway, her hooves pounding his gut the entire way. Scootaloo spat out the remainder of his ear, disgust awash across her face. She helped Rumble to his hooves, supporting him by pressing up against his side.

Silver Lance pulled Chrysalis into the bedroom with all his might. “You can escape through the window! You gotta run!”

Running. Yes. That was what her soldiers were giving their life for. That’s what Rainbow Dash and the rest were fighting for. Her safety. Her security. The evening sky awaited her, ready to cover her escape. She spread her wings to grab the air with her magic. Her hooves left the floor as the outdoor air hit her face.

A chill deeper than the harshest winter—colder than her mother’s cursed heart—hit her in the back. Her wings turned brittle. Her disguise melted away. Her stomach hit the railing around the balcony, inches from falling to her death. She gaped at the ground, which now seemed so eager to swallow her up.

She scrambled back onto the balcony. Her wings cracked and scattered themselves across the floor. She cried out in pain—it would take weeks to grow them back. Breathless and sick to her stomach, she could only watch as Confuto approached, Fimbulvetr gripped in his hoof.

Silver Lance charged, but was swatted away without a second glance. The young colt hit his head against a table leg, which knocked him out cold. Confuto walked onto the balcony, cast a spell, and encased the entryway with a solid wall of ice, half a meter thick.

“In that case,” he growled, “I suppose I’ll drag you to Felaccia myself.”

***

The lightning snapped and crackled around Flurry Heart as the shields danced around her. One wrong move, and everyone would be dead. Guardsponies littered the dining-room-turned-battle-arena, some unconscious, some worse-off. The soldiers that surrounded Flurry seemed to be torn between protecting her and giving her room to work. She could hear her little sister crying behind her, curled up in Sky Wishes’ forelegs.

She could hear her father and mother beating the rubble into sub mission, seeking entry into the melee. They wouldn’t make it before Lapsus did his dirty work. They couldn’t stop the Painted One before he killed everybody.

Only Flurry Heart stood between them and disaster.

The old stories came to mind. How Princess Celestia called down a beam of sunlight to save her sister from evil Diamond Dogs. How Sombra fell to the power of an eclipse. Time and time again, alicorns accomplished feats of awesome power to fell dastardly foes.

But Flurry was just a little girl, and she was so very, very scared.

Lapsus geared himself up for another attack, stronger than the last, intent to blast Flurry Heart to pieces. The attack reflected off the shields, bouncing around the room before dissipating in a huff of ozone. A taste of iron touched Flurry’s tongue; the strain on her horn was causing her nose to bleed.

The desperate cries of her father and mother struck her in the heart. The rubble shifted, but not enough. They were all still trapped.

Trapped…

Trapped!

Flurry flung a shield at the Painted One. He moved to the side and let it pass by. He released a strike that she intercepted with another shield. The lightning bounced off the second and hit the first. She angled the shot, and it struck Lapsus in the back. He howled, stumbling. The enchanted paint across his body insulated him from his own power… but it was running. His blood had cleared space across his chest, his back, and his legs. That seemed to be enough to cause the enchantment to weaken.

So Flurry put her plan into motion.

She left the first shield hovering in space behind the Painted One. She flung a second shield at him, which he deflected to the side. Using another angle, her third weapon bounced to the other side of her foe. He lifted his head to see the shields around him, a wary look entering his eye. He fired a weak lance of energy at the filly, which she reflected easily. It bounced between the shields before striking the ground just beside his hoof. With a growl, he cast an arc of electricity that curved up and around her shields, so that she had to pull the remaining three close to her body.

He thought he understood her plan. That’s exactly what she was hoping for.

A fourth and a fifth shield launched themselves towards him, and were again pushed back. The five shields surrounded him on all sides, but he didn’t have to worry about them if he curved the spells. Flurry wiped her nose. Her head spun. Her horn ached. Her lungs burned from heavy breathing. She had to do something soon. She had to bring the battle to an end.

She let him see her stumble. She let him see the final shield droop. She let him think that he had the upper hoof. He pulled the Bolting back for a final, flesh-searing strike.

Flurry pumped her horn full of reserve energy. It glowed a blinding white atop her head. She gripped all six shields with every beat of her heart. The shields raced towards the Painted One and surrounded him. The instant they connected, a magical forcefield activated, trapping Lapsus completely.

Too late to stop himself, he released the Bolting’s spell.

The blast reflected off the shields, bounding off the field, striking Lapsus through the heart again and again as it continued its unstoppable rampage. Each bounce against the shields sent waves of pain through Flurry Heart’s head. She pushed back, bringing the shields tighter and tighter around the Painted One, narrowing the lightning bolt’s focus. A scream of pain, horror, and rage emanated from the torrential assault.

The Bolting cracked, and the room was filled with a blinding light.

Flurry’s horn winked out. She was caught by Natter before she could collapse to the ground. The shields dropped in a cluster, scattering Lapsus’ ashes to the four winds. The guards rushed to tend to Celestia’s burns.

The weight sunk in. He was dead. The bad guy was dead. She killed him. Her stomach churned. She didn’t think she had the strength to vomit, but her body was all too eager. Tears fell like a torrent of rain. She felt so dirty. The scream still echoed. His eyes still burned in her memory.

“Flurry! Twilight!”

She lifted her eyes. There, but a few steps away, were he father and mother. Shining Armor dropped his javelins and ran to her. He scooped her up in his forelegs, hugging her tight. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

He reached out a hoof to pull Twilight Amore into the embrace. Flurry’s younger sister could only shiver uncontrollably, unable to speak. Flurry herself shuddered out weak words. “I… I killed… He’s dead, daddy.”

Pink wings surrounded them, blotting out the harsh light left in the wake of burning furniture and emergency lightning. The warmth of a mother’s touch was added to the embrace, alongside the strong security of her father’s hooves. Flurry Heart was in the single most wonderful place she knew of in the whole world.

“It’s alright, Flurry. We’re all okay.” Princess Mi Amore Cadenza cooed into her daughters’ ears. “You’re safe now, Twilight. You can rest.”

The four little ponies held each other tight while the room bustled around them.

***

Martial Paw stirred among the rubble. Soot coated his wings and chest, and a cinder alighted his beak. A soft breath blew it out, reducing it to ash. He opened his eyes and stared at an open sky, the sounds of war echoing in the distance. He pulled himself upright.

The room was completely caved in. Above his head, he could see two additional stories through which he’d fallen. By all rights, he should be dead. But his uncle had saved him.

In front of him, he could see the wall had been torn clean in half. Strutters and griffon soldiers flew by, firing their weapons at each other. A burning airship crumpled into the lake. A cannon fired off one last shot before it was reduced to molten wootz.

Martial narrowed his eyes. Only moments could have passed since the Hesperus Mactans attacked. Ahuizotl could still be descending along the mountainside. He would be vulnerable to an attack from the air. Martial checked his Turner volleygun. Two shots remaining. He reloaded it to its full capacity and stuffed it in his belt.

“Martial! Martial Paw!”

Martial glanced over his shoulder. Button Mash pressed himself against a pile of rocks, trying with all his meager might to move them. Martial gave the colt a dismissive snort and walked towards the open air.

“Martial, I need your help!” Button repositioned his legs to gain a better stance. “I can’t do this on my own!”

“I’m going to kill Ahuizotl.” Martial shook his wings to rid them of debris. “I’d accept your assistance, but you’ve already displayed your… lack of prowess. Kindly shut your mouth.”

“Are you crazy?” Button Mash gestured wildly at the crumbled rocks and fractured boulders that littered the room. “Everybody’s still trapped! If we work fast, we can save them—”

“There’s no time.” Martial hoisted himself onto the crag and felt the open air call to him. He sought out the blue furred form of Ahuizotl, and saw him scrambling some distance down the castle wall. Just as he was about to leap forth, a set of teeth clamped down on his tail and dragged him backward.

He hit the ground rump-first, and wasted no time in clubbing the offending pony with a fist. As expected, Button Mash practically flew through the air with the impact. Martial had half a mind to pull out his volleygun and finish the colt then and there. He held on to the last of his restraint and settled for pointing a talon. “You stay down… or I’ll put you down.”

Button Mash wiped the blood from his mouth. “What is wrong with you?”

“That thing, that monster, that mad god—” Martial seethed, his voice shaking. “—took away every last thing that I loved, and I’ll be hanged before I let you interfere!”

Button Mash’s face turned red. He fumed, climbing to his hooves in a hurry. “Everything you love? What about your uncle? What about Blankety? They’re right there, Martial! They’re buried alive, suffocating to death, and you refuse to help them because you’ve got a stick up your butt?”

Martial Paw felt his blood boil over. He grasped the colt by the shoulder, drawing trickles of blood. “A stick! Need I remind you that monster has your girlfriend with him?”

“So what are we waiting for?” Button Mash winced, tears flowing from his eyes, but he locked gazes with Martial all the same. “If we work fast, we can save them all!”

“He’ll escape again!” Martial’s voice grew hoarse. He punctuated every word by shaking Button. “He’ll escape like he always does! And then nobody will be able to avenge her!”

Button Mash grabbed the single talon holding him aloft. He patted gently, unable to move much more because of the pain. “What about the king? What about Mr. Blank? D—” His sentence was cut off by a deep, pained groan. “—do you wanna avenge them, or help them?”

Martial’s grip weakened. His knees buckled as he dropped Button to the floor.

“You’re not alone, Martial. I promise.” Button Mash eased himself upright, holding a hoof to his shoulder. “There are people who wanna stick with you. Who’re counting on you. Right now.”

Martial lay his ears against his scalp. He picked up a rock and propelled it into the aether. His forceful breathing slowed as the moments passed. The sting in his sinuses begged to be let out in the form of tears, but he refused them. “I have to kill him. I have to pay him back for taking Daring away.”

“And then what? Attend two more funerals?” Button stomped a hoof as his voice rose. “Daring’s gone. They’re not.”

Martial ran his talons through his neck feathers. He brought his wings close to his sides.

“Martial, please.” Button touched Martial Paw’s shoulder. “We don’t have a whole lot of time.”

“Marty.”

Martial’s ears perked up, but he had not heard the voice. Only felt it. He turned to where he felt his heart being tugged. Inside the crumbled castle. Among the rocks.

“Marty, p-please.” The voice spoke softly, but all the more fervent. “Help us.”

With a start, he realized the voice had been calling out all this time. He just hadn’t been able to hear it over all the rage pounding in his head. Blankety Blank was calling out to him, a message passed from heart-to-heart.

“Marty, my friend,” Blankety said. “Help.”

“Blank.” Martial rushed to where he felt his friend must be. He dug at the rocks, careful not to shift too many at once. Button Mash appeared alongside him, clearing the rubble at twice the pace. Before long, Martial found smoothness where there should have been more shale. Blankety Blank’s chitin.

Martial grasped the large stone that lay atop the changeling and heaved. Button Mash pressed his back against the side to hold it up. While the young stallion strained, Martial dragged Blankety’s body from the shallow grave. He held Blankety Blank close, looking over his limbs and torso for mortal wounds.

“Thank you… Martial…” Blankety smiled, his eyes closed. His mouth couldn’t be opened, due to the damage from the collapse. “D-Daring… says hi…”

“She what?” Martial wiped dust from his friend’s face. “Blank, you need to rest. Just relax, and everything’ll be taken care of.”

“She misses you…” Blankety’s throat constricted as he coughed. “She misses us a lot…”

“He’s delirious.” Martial helplessly looked to Button. “W-what can we do?”

“Lay him still. Keep his back and neck straight.” Button peered into one of Blankety’s multifaceted eyes. He shrugged. “Dang it. I don’t know much about changelings, but I’m pretty sure he needs a hospital.”

“Really now?”

“I know, not really helpful.” Button Mash rubbed his forehead. “He needs painkillers, and fluids, and sugars, stat. We have to be careful moving him. We don’t know what’s broken.” He jerked his head towards the far side of the room. “Come on. There’s still two more in there.”

Martial lay Blankety gently down. His heart broke, seeing his friend like that. He was as helpless as Martial felt.

He lifted his eyes to where Button was running. He held in a gasp, but just barely. A massive talon, which could only belong to Andean Ursagryph, lay at the base of a pile of stone. The foreleg led into the depths of the rock and disappeared from view.

“Oh, Creator.”

It took the strength of both Martial and Button to clear the stones away, piece by excruciating piece. Martial fought against the weight with a roar, clearing a boulder away from Andean’s face. The king’s breathing was visibly labored, not helped by the pile of castle atop his chest.

In a matter of minutes, with a flap of Martial’s wings and a kick from Button’s hind legs, the last of the stone cleared King Andean Ursagryph’s body. Button’s face grew more and more pained as he examined the king. “Multiple chest wounds, probably a punctured lung. Broken ribs and wings. Third degree burns across the forelegs and right side. Martial, this doesn’t—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Martial Paw touched a talon to Andean’s. “You don’t know of whom you speak.”

Andean coughed once, then nearly vomited. His voice was weak, but certain. “Indeed. The stallion does not. But he is more right than you know.”

“Uncle!” Martial held the king’s talon tighter. “You shouldn’t try to speak—”

“I will… have my piece.” With an agonized screech, Andean moved his wing aside to reveal the battered form of Caballeron. “Please get this pony out from under me.”

Caballeron was dazed, bruised, and cut to heck, but he was able to walk when Button put his shoulder beneath his forelegs. Once they had moved aside, Andean settled back into place. He opened one eye to gaze at his nephew, his brow furrowed.

“Martial Paw…” Andean wheezed, closing his talons around Martial’s. “You have broken your banishment.”

Martial nodded as his ears drooped. “Yes, Your Grace.”

Andean sighed. “To kill Ahuizotl.”

“Yes.”

What might have been a chuckle died before it truly lived. “Would that you had been here to advise me.” Andean Ursagryph looked past Martial, Button, and Caballeron. Martial followed his gaze, and knew that he observed the battle around them. “I had so much wanted to call you back home. But not like this.”

He squeezed Martial’s talon. “Do not let the lords find you. They will put you to death without question.”

Martial swallowed the lump in his throat. “They won’t even know I’m here.”

Andean wheezed. A faint light flickered behind his eyes, his vast intellect at work. “Martial. I have failed to protect this country from those who would destroy it. My body has failed me. I have to rely on you to defend Felaccia. Make sure my daughters… make sure your cousins are safe.”

“You can make sure they’re safe, Uncle.” Martial touched his forehead to Andean’s knuckle. “You aren’t going to die here. I swear you won’t.”

“I haven’t much time…” Andean coughed, wet and weak. “Before I drown in my own blood.”

He let Andean’s talon drop. He backed away from his uncle, towards the hole in the wall. “No. Your story does not end here. We’re going to get you medical attention.”

“Wait.” Andean moved his talon towards his right side, pointing. “Take this, Martial.”

Euroclydon’s hilt struck out of the rubble, its handle pointed towards Martial. He shook his head. Shame washed over his head and down his body. “No, Uncle. I couldn’t—”

“It was made for your bloodline. Commissioned by your ancestor Berkut.” Andean’s stern voice was like iron clasps, immobile and unescapable. “You will need it to strike down the enemies of Felaccia, as you were meant to do.”

Martial walked up to the sword. The chosen weapon of griffon kings. A magic blade forged from the hottest fires of Felaccia. A relic charged with the power of a mighty storm. “How can I possibly be worthy?”

Andean frowned. “If it was about worthiness, the sword would never have made its way to my hand.”

Martial clicked his beak, turning away from his uncle. He bowed his head and closed his eyes. A long breath filled his lungs, and was slowly breathed out. His pulse slowed. The tension left his back. His heart beat strong and sure. He wrapped one talon around the hilt, then the other.

With a single tug, he pulled Euroclydon from its resting place. The blade reshaped itself as he did so, folding in on itself to form a suitable length and width. Lightning flashed from the red gemstone pommel, all along the length of the wootz, and into Martial’s very limbs. Martial released a sharp breath. A gust cleared the area of ash and dust.

Martial Paw slid the legendary sword into its scabbard and slung it across his back. “I’ll have you know, I’m only borrowing this.” He looked from his uncle to Blank, both unable to move under their own power. “I can’t just leave you both like this.”

Button picked his jaw up off the floor. He released Caballeron to stand on his own. A hop brought him to the edge of the hole in the wall. “I don’t know what else we can do. Nobody’s gonna stop fighting to—”

A Strutter exploded right in front of his face. He threw himself to the ground, covering his head as bits and pieces of metal clattered around him. “What the heck did—?” He peered over the opening. His eyes popped. “Oh wow. Oho ho, wow.”

Martial flew across the room to stand beside him. Caballeron ran, his eyes regaining their luster now that oxygen could reenter his brain. The three of them looked across the battlefield to see the same event repeated ad nauseum. Magic spells shot up from below to knock Strutters from the sky. From above, enchanted arrows of ice and fire rained. The griffon regulars let out a cheer as they saw the very same thing Button did.

At the entrance to Roc, an entire armada of Equestrian vessels piled into the city. Airships hovered overhead, dispersing pegasus soldiers with bows. Unicorns charged up crowd-clearing volleys of spells from the boats. Earth ponies manned launchers, sending ballistae plowing through the cloud of Strutters.

“It’s Luna!” Button pointed to the prow of the flagship. “It’s Princess Luna! She came to fight!”

Martial glanced at his uncle, who let out a satisfied hum. “I had hoped so,” Andean said.

“Wait.” Button Mash grabbed Martial’s shoulder. “The navy ships always have a sickbay. If we can get Blankety Blank and the king to one of the boats—”

“How?” Martial leaned against the stone, clenching a fist. “There’s no way we can carry them. And it’ll take too long to bring the ships here.”

Caballeron looked down the mountain. He laughed, light and airy. “I believe you are all missing the obvious solution.”

Side by side, Martial and Button lowered their heads. All at once, Martial’s heart soared. His personal airship, the Vanishing Point, puttered towards them, piloted by Captain Care Carrot herself. “The Vanishing Point. Where the sky meets the horizon.”

The envelope crested the fracture in the side of the castle. The main body of the vessel loomed into view soon after. Care tossed them a line, and Martial secured the ship to the area. “Just got the word from Luna,” she said. “We’re official agents in Felaccia, now. No more skulking.”

Martial gave Care a talon to lean on as she climbed from the airship’s deck. “Captain, am I glad to see you.”

“That’s a welcome change.” Care gave him a sardonic smile. It fell away the instant she looked past him. “Blank!” She rushed to the changeling’s side. Her hooves hovered, wanting to help Blank, but unwilling to make things worse. “Okay. Okay, what’s the plan? We’ve got a plan, right?”

“Currently, yes.” Martial pointed to his uncle at the back of the room. “We’ve got to get Blank and Andean medical attention. If we load them onto the Vanishing Point—”

“We can take ’em to the fleet. Got it.” Care tapped her horn. “Just one problem: There’s still a million bad guys between us and the fleet. Fighting’s getting too fierce. I’ve only been able to keep the Point aloft by hugging the mountain.”

Martial bobbed his head. He pulled the scabbard off of his back and drew Euroclydon. He used it as a pointer to indicate the floating boulders that surrounded the castle. “The defense placements can be used as cover. We can bounce from emplacement to emplacement. In the meantime…” He raised Euroclydon. A blast of lightning struck out and snagged a passing Strutter. The vehicle burst into flames and disintegrated on its way to the lake. “I’ll cut a path.”

Care’s eyes widened. She gave him a silly grin. “You get to keep that thing, right?”

“It’s a loaner,” Button Mash said. He took in a shaky breath. “We still need to tail Ahuizotl.”

“True enough, but…” Martial clicked his beak. He eyed the young stallion as he sheathed Euroclydon. “What’s your proposition?”

“He’s still climbing down the mountain. He’s going to the control chamber inside the castle.” Button Mash took an offered cloth from Care and patted it against his shoulder. “If some of us can tail him, then when you get the patients the help they need, you can come to the rescue and defeat him once and for all.” Button nodded towards the sky. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. “If Ahuizotl turns on the Sunspear, we’re all dead.”

“And you’re volunteering?” Care frowned deeply. She and Martial shared the same expression. “How do you figure on following him?”

“I can fly those dragonfly-looking Strutter things. I, uh, got some practice back in Equestria.” Button climbed the rubble to get a better view of the battlefield. “If you get me one of those, I can follow Ahuizotl and Sweetie. If you give me something to contact you with, I can lead you right to him.”

Button sat down and rolled his shoulders. “Caballeron is coming with me.”

The doctor gave the young stallion a double-take. “What? You think for a moment I’m—”

“You can come with me,” Button said, “or you can stay with the guy who stabbed you a couple days ago. He’ll take you to the princess who’s gonna throw you in prison for the rest of your life. You wanna maybe make a name for yourself stopping the omnicidal maniac before you go before a jury?”

Martial examined Button. The stallion sat with his head held high, no nervousness evident despite the torrent of emotions he must have been feeling. He had made up his mind, and would brook no argument. Martial cast one last glance between Andean and Blankety, then gave Button a finalizing nod. “Very well. If you think you’re up to the task.”

“I have to be.” Button Mash stood and clambered down to the main floor. He lowered his head. “Thank you.”

Martial couldn’t help but grin as Caballeron squirmed, unable to speak up against the idea. If the doctor had to keep living, better that he live in discomfort. “Now then, let’s see about getting the two of you airborne.”

***

The capture of a passing Strutter was the work of a moment. A fireball from Care knocked the copilot from one dragonfly-shaped craft, while Martial defeated the other with a swift stab. He guided the vessel downward, and landed it in front of Button and Caballeron.

Button Mash climbed aboard the Strutter, nestling his torso over the seat and reaching his four legs out to hit the pedals. Hind legs to control the weapons. Front legs to control the acceleration, the altitude, and the direction. Care handed him a set of goggles from the Vanishing Point’s interior, and gave Dr. Caballeron a matching set.

The older stallion clipped himself into the rear-facing gunner’s seat. “You’d better be blasted sure about this.”

Button felt energy flow through his legs as his heart beat alongside the one powering the Strutter. A few faint mumblings about “The limitless power of Queen Cicada” pulsed through his mind until he squelched the Painted One’s rhetoric. “Just keep the fighters off our tail and we’ll get through this.”

Andean lay aboard the Vanishing Point, strapped down like cargo. Blankety’s stretcher lay beside him, bolted to the deck as securely as they were able. Care stood behind the ship’s wheel, and Martial stood astride the prow. He drew Euroclydon once more and saluted Button. “You have the dragonfire?”

“Right here!” Button patted his saddlebags. “You’ll hear from us the instant we find Ahuizotl!”

Martial Paw nodded. The Vanishing Point pulled away from the mountain, and they began their desperate run through the battlefield.

Button Mash pulled the control pads upward, just like a puppeteer raising the strings of his marionette. The Strutter lifted in tandem with the movement. “You okay back there, Doc?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Dr. Caballeron.”

“Better.” Caballeron sneered over his shoulder. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Button Mash smiled. “On that note…” He pushed the throttle forward, and the Strutter shot into the open air. “We’re coming, Sweetie Belle. Just hold on.”

The Sovereign Ruler

Rainbow Dash lay into the Painted One with everything she had, but it still wasn’t enough. His tattoos glowed as his skin toughened against her hooves. A solid punch to her gut nearly sent her into unconsciousness, but she held on by the barest thread. She took to the air, and Insurgo rushed beneath her to bite her tail. He dragged her back into his range, where he returned her bludgeoning with one of his own.

Scootaloo charged at him, the Bolganone tucked under one wing. Rumble shuffled after her, leaving the changelings to struggle against Dissero. The queen’s guard fell one by one, never to a fatal blow, but incapacitated all the same.

Scootaloo shut her eyes and stretched out with her magic. She felt movement beneath the floor. Currents. Running water within pipes. She used her magic to stop up the flow, holding it back against its will. Metal groaned. Seams leaked. Pressure built.

Insurgo clobbered Rainbow Dash upside the head. She slumped to the floor in a heap. He turned to face Scootaloo and Rumble, his face a cruel snarl. The snarl faded away when he saw the look in Scootaloo’s eyes: That of pure, unbridled, unrestrained rage.

The pipe burst. A stream of water spewed from broken marble, colliding with the Painted One’s torso. The dye in his coat began to run as it grew damp. Beyond that, the force of the pressure breaking through the solid flooring skyrocketed him straight to the ceiling. He fell to the floor in a bundle of soggy cloth and aching muscles.

Scootaloo nodded. “You’re washed up, dip-wad.”

Rumble leaned against the wall, gazing at his girlfriend with what could only be pure awe. “That was frickin’ amazing. How—?”

“Been practicing my magic. Getting pretty good at the whole ‘phenomenal cosmic powers’ thing.” Scootaloo placed the Bolganone on the floor so that she could pick Rainbow Dash’s head up. The orb rolled towards Rumble. “Dash? Hay, Dash, can you hear me? C’mon, snap out of it.”

Rainbow Dash opened her eyes. She gave Scootaloo a hazy grin. “Hay, Squirt. Did I get him?”

Scootaloo brushed dripping bangs from Rainbow’s eyes. “Ha. Yeah. You got him.”

Rumble slumped down to reach for the Bolganone. “But who’s got us—?”

Insurgo’s hoof snapped out to touch the Bolganone. In a matter of seconds, the water around him was boiling, turning to a cloud of steam to conceal him. The fiery orb glowed as he reeled back, ready to cast his spell. “Let your ashes scatter to the four w—!”

A javelin pierced straight through the Painted One’s shoulder. The Bolganone fell from a limp hoof. Two more javelins appeared to the left and the right Insurgo’s head, coming together to choke him. He collapsed onto his side, where breath was allowed to return in a whoosh of air.

Shining Armor stepped into the mist, a squadron of javelins hovering in the air around him, guided by his magic. Sturm and Drang flanked the Prince of the Crystal Empire, one holding a spear, and the other outfitted with clawed boots. Shining Armor gave Insurgo an appraising glance, after which he gave Scootaloo his full attention. “Have you guys seen my son?”

“Aw crud!” Rainbow Dash tried to stand, but immediately collapsed to the floor. Scootaloo helped her balance on her feet. “He went into the room and disappeared! There’s like this freaky robot thing fighting the changelings! He’s with the queen!”

Shining Armor might have sworn under his breath, but it was too soft for Scootaloo to make out. “Are there any more of these guys?”

“Just one, sir.” Rumble stood at attention as much as his bruised, bloodied body could manage. “That we know of. He’s got a frost orb he called ‘Fimbulvetr.’ I think they’re trying to kidnap the changeling queen.”

“Not on my watch.” Shining Armor gently pushed Rumble into a sitting position. “You stay here and recuperate, soldier. We’ll take care of things from here.”

He charged into the mist, the javelins flying in his wake. “They’re not getting their mits on any of my children.”

***

Silver Lance pulled himself to his feet by gripping the edge of a chair. His head pounded. The Painted One’s kick and the subsequent slide across the room really did a number on him. He could already feel a lump forming on the top of his head.

But more important was the queen. He looked around the room and found no sign of her or the Painted One leader. The door to the balcony was frozen over, but he didn’t feel like anybody was on the other side. He couldn’t sense their hearts at all. It was empty.

Through the suite door, Silver could see the other changelings laying on the floor, rumpled and battered, but still alive. The changeling commander didn’t look good. Worse than usual. Every inhale came with a wince. Every exhale ended in a cough. Silver could feel their hearts crying out for help, or seeking their queen, or fearing what would come next.

Silver frowned. The Royal Guard should have arrived, right? Some soldiers should have come to their aid, shouldn’t they? And where was the automaton? The frost-infested hall still had several icy spikes jutting from the walls. A fog settled over the corridor. He could hear voices coming closer, but he couldn’t recognize them yet.

He looked around for something—anything—he could use to defend himself. Silver lit his horn, grasped an icy spike, and pulled with all his might. The thing shattered in his telekinetic bubble. He tried again, using a gentler grip, and pried another spike from the wall. It wobbled in his grasp. He couldn’t quite get a handle on its weight or balance. He held it regardless.

A voice touched his heart, just at the edge of his perception. It was a whisper, dark and hissing. “Son of the Sun and Moon. The sight of you blisters my eyes.

Silver raised his eyes to the ceiling. Dissero looked back. The automaton shifted its legs, poising itself to strike. But for the moment, it kept still. “Your death would be nothing but beneficial to Queen Cicada. And yet, you are my best bet for escaping alive.”

Silver’s eyes grew wide. He held the icicle like a spear. “That’s nice to know…”

The automaton dropped from its perch and landed with its legs surrounding Silver Lance. The young colt screamed and ran from the makeshift prison. Dissero scrambled after the colt, the cogs within his inner workings whirring loudly. Silver realized too late that he was running away from the voices, which had risen to shouts. To turn back was stupid. To slow down was likewise. He had to outpace the automaton with all his might, or he’d be a hostage.

The cannon atop Dissero clicked into place. Magic built up on its tip.

Silver Lance swallowed. Maybe he’d be worse than a hostage if he couldn’t get away.

Up ahead, the corridor became an enclosed bridge that spanned between the castle’s many towers. There was nothing but a straight hallway, down which the automaton would surely catch up. The windows were of solid glass, too strong for a normal pony to break. But maybe…

Silver slid to a stop, spinning to face Dissero. He chucked the icicle in an arc that had no hope of hitting the mechanical monstrosity. Dissero acted on instinct and fired at the oncoming projectile. The icicle evaporated in an instant, and the magic blast continued unabated towards the window beyond.

The sheer power of the magic shattered the window in an instant. The fragments of glass tumbled down, down, down to the courtyard below. Wind rushed into the bridge as the warm night air met the controlled coolness of the castle. Silver huddled by the newly-created opening, hoping that a wrong step could send the automaton over the edge.

He was disappointed to find that Dissero’s cannon was still aimed at him, ready to turn his body into dust.

There was nowhere to turn. There was nowhere to hide. Nothing to shield himself with. Silver Lance covered his eyes and braced himself.

A fleet of lances harried Dissero from every angle. None of the blades could pierce his armor, but they were able to throw him off balance, redirect his aim, and generally annoy the automaton. Shining Armor charged shoulder-first into Dissero’s side, knocking him to the floor in a tangle of bladed limbs. “Lance! Get out of here!”

Silver Lance looked behind himself, into the open air. He found exactly what he was hoping to find: A small ledge along the length of the bridge, used by repairponies for access to the outside of the enclosure. On the far tower wall, a ladder could be seen, which reached a balcony a few floors below.

With the inside of the bridge too dangerous, and little reason to stay put, he heeded his father’s advice and crawled onto the ledge. He winced as he heard a bladed leg collide with enchanted armor, accompanied by Shining Armor’s shout of rage.

The window just ahead of Silver exploded into pieces. The colt halted, but he was still close enough for the fragments to cut into his face. Dissero attempted to crawl through the newly-made hole, but a blast of Shining Armor’s magic dragged him back inside. Silver hustled as fast as he dared, each glance downward sending waves of dizziness through his body. Maybe it was the blood loss, maybe it was the imminent death, but he was finding it harder and harder to put one hoof in front of the other.

Shining Armor’s face crashed against one of the windows, and the prince uttered several very adult words. The automaton took a step back to angle its cannon at the stallion. Silver Lance pounded on the window. “Dad! Look out!”

Silver ducked just as another window was blasted into oblivion, showering him with vicious shards. The automaton climbed through, its bladed legs seeking Silver’s flesh. A jab missed by inches, a slice bit into his foreleg. He sent a feeble spell through his horn, but there was no strength behind it.

Shining Armor pushed Dissero from behind with all of his might. The automaton flipped end-over-end, but its front two legs latched onto the ledge. Silver couldn’t move; each leg stabbed deep into either side of him. A third leg rose to rest against his throat, the keen edge drawing a drop of blood.

“Tell your father,” the automaton said to Silver’s heart, “that if he allows me to leave, you shall live. If not…”

Shining Armor stood up and called his javelins to his side. He came to the window in a breathless rush. “Lance”

Silver tried to swallow, but the blade was too close. He felt it dig in, little by little. “Dad…”

Shining’s face instantly stormed with red-tinged hatred. “You let my son—!”

“He’ll let me live if you let him go.” Silver couldn’t see through his tears anymore. He shut his eyes completely, reaching out with his heart to feel his father’s. He felt power, and confidence, even if it was overshadowed with fear.

He also felt Dissero’s heart. He felt a conniving thought enter the automaton’s soul. The gears whirred. The plating shifted. Magic moved from the heart to the back of the Painted One’s artificial shell.

The cannon!

Dissero was going to kill his dad!

“No!”

Silver Lance kicked out with his hind legs. He felt his hooves collide with the automaton’s face. The entire mechanical structure of the Painted One shuddered and shifted. The legs gripping the ledge slipped. Another kick his just as solidly as the first. Silver saw the third leg sliding for his throat and jerked back. The blade traced a deep cut along the length of his body, dragging him along with Dissero. Silver Lance entered freefall.

Shining Armor reached out and caught his son. The young boy held on for dear life as he was pulled back aboard the bridge.

Dissero’s legs clawed at open air. His last thought before hitting the ground was to curse Shining Armor’s entire family. The automaton shattered into fragments of machinery and sparkling shards of crystalline heart.

Shining Armor scooped up his youngest child. He held Silver Lance close to his chest, whispering quietly to the young colt. “It’s okay, Lance. It’s okay. You’re safe. We’re both safe. You did good buddy.”

He was cut up, he was battered, he was scared out of his mind, but the boy was alive. The young colt shivered against his coat, breathing short and light. “Are you okay, Dad?”

“Yeah,” Shining said with a light, breathless laugh. “We’re both gonna be just fine.”

***

Button Mash had two thoughts paramount in his mind as he kicked the dragoncopter into high gear. The first was to find Ahuizotl, and by extension, Sweetie. The second was to stay close to the mountain-turned-castle, to cut down on potential stray shots broadsiding him.

Both thoughts flew out the window the instant a cloud of dragoncopters swooped down to hound his tail. Dr. Caballeron’s near-panicked voice was quick to inform him. “We’ve got company! Move your dock or lose it!”

Button jerked the controls to the side. A few of the enemy ships kept flying forward, while the rest continued their pursuit. He chanced a glance at them, nibbling his lower lip. “Maybe they think we’re friendl—”

The crackle of energy lanced past his head. He faced forward and put all possible speed into the dragoncopter’s forward movement. “Not friendly! Bogies! Bogies on our six!”

Caballeron’s voice reach a higher pitch than Button thought possible. “That’s what I just said!”

“Then shoot back!” Button Mash pulled back on the yoke. They shot skyward, coming near to the castle’s spires. Overhead, he could see the many legs of the Hesperus Mactans gripping the walls. Jolts of magic spun through the guts of their dragoncopter as Caballeron returned fire. One of their foes spiraled to the lake as a smoking wreck. “Great shot!”

“Don’t encourage me!” Caballeron continued to pump the trigger mindlessly as he turned towards Button. “Why the blazes are you flying towards the flyder?”

“I’m not!” Button pulled the controls to the side. He slid neatly between two of the parapets. “I’m trying to lose them!”

“You’ll lose more than them if—”

“Trust me on this!” The crash of metal on stone revealed that the enemies were far less maneuverable than he was. Perhaps it had something to do with Cicada controlling them? Slower reflexes? Or just less likely to worry about self-preservation? In any case, it was only good news to him. “Lay on the firepower!”

With a roar of pent-up frustration, Caballeron continued his rearward bombardment. “I! Hate! Flying!” Spittle flew from his mouth as he scowled towards Button. “Earth ponies were not meant to fly!”

Button looked ahead and saw a large window. The stained glass and iron framework had been blown away by the battle, allowing him a clean shot through the tower. He set his jaw and ducked close to the windscreen. “Then today we’re pegasi.”

Caballeron turned to spew more bile at his pilot. When he saw their destination, his mouth fell open. He lowered his head onto the chest rest, still blindly pumping the firing pedal. “We can’t fit through there, you maniac!”

Button glanced to their wings. A rough estimate of their size and how large the window should be made the passage possible… if barely so. “I’ll pull up if it looks like it won’t go through.”

“You won’t have time!” Caballeron pumped the pedal at a feverish rate. “We’re dead and it’s your fault!”

Button bit his lip. He twisted both yokes to the left, and the right wing lifted up. They passed through the window without a scratch. The dragoncopters following them weren’t nearly so lucky. Three of them slammed into the wall before the rest got the hint to pull away. Button yanked the control pads back, slowing and stopping their pace. There was only one window in the tower. “No exit. Okay. Maybe a bad move.”

“They’re still right outside!”

“Yeah, but, like, less.” Button looked down. The tower didn’t seem to have any floors, just decks where a flyer could rest on their way up. Near the bottom, an open door led to a hallway. He sent their ship towards the base of the tower. The hall was wide enough for two dragoncopters to fly side-by-side. Perfect. He kicked the wings into gear and sought out another window.

“Ahuizotl is getting away—”

“No he’s not.” The buzz of mechanical wings on the wind itched the edge of Button’s ears; the Painted Ones had entered the tower. “We’ll find him. We just gotta be alive to do it.”

“You don’t say—?”

“Doctor, if you’ve got a better idea, then please…” Button glanced over his shoulder for the faintest of moments. “Let me know.”

They exited the hall to find themselves in a large room. It seemed to be an unused ballroom, with dust cloth thrown over a few pieces of furniture, and cobwebs covering a long banquet table. Button smiled to himself. He pulled up and left the dragoncopter hovering just over the entrance, out of sight of the hall. Two by two, the enemy fighters zipped into the room, spreading out in a search pattern. Once they’d passed by, Button shot back the way he’d come. Within moments, they were up through the tower and out the window.

“Alright,” Caballeron said. “Maybe you’re not completely crazy.”

“It’s these fighters,” Button said, surveying the side of the mountain. “It’s like they don’t have a mind of their own. They’re acting like the AI in the video games I play.”

“Ay, aye?”

“Artificial Intelligence.” Button shrugged. “Running on predetermined patterns. Acting according to pre-set conditions.”

Button frowned at the Hesperus Mactans as it shifted its weight. Its guns blazed, and an Equestrian airship turned inside out. “Controlled by a central authority.” He sighed. There was nothing he could do to disrupt the Painted One’s flagship. He could only control his search for Ahuizotl and leave the battle to the true warriors.

He pulled around and got a good view of the total height of the castle. Amid the grays and blacks of stone and brick, a bright flash of blue and white made its way down the sloped mountainside. Button’s brow furrowed. The mad god himself lay in his sights. But also, unfortunately, Sweetie Belle. He took his foot off the firing pedal so that he couldn’t make any horrific mistakes. “I got them.”

“Good.” Caballeron pointed. “Because they’ve got us! Bogies at five-ten!”

Button and the doctor shot forward. Button kept them close to the mountain to minimize angles of approach. They sped past Ahuizotl, kicking up dust. Button could see the shocked look on the monster’s face for a brief, all-too-satisfying moment before they were beyond his reach.

“Now we’ve just gotta keep close.” Button Mash licked dry lips as the wind beat into his face. “They wouldn’t want to accidently blast their leader off the mountainside.”

***

Martial Paw thrust his sword into the air. A lightning strike thundered forth to cleave an armored, beetle-shaped Strutter out of the sky. The Painted One pilot screamed as he fell, lucky enough to have survived the strike, unlucky enough to have no means of flight.

Care Carrot flew close to the side of one glowing, floating stone. Too close for Martial’s liking. He tensed up as the rock lightly bumped the hull of the airship. “Take it easy!”

“You take it easy!” Care spun the ships wheel hoof-over-hoof. Her horn lit with the makings of a spell, which she released in an arc. A distant Strutter burst into flames and slipped into the lake. “I’m a guard, not a frickin’ pilot!”

“I don’t expect finesse!” Martial shot her a smile as he shot down another armored flyer. “I expect to arrive alive.”

“Take what you can get.” Care angled the prow to head for the next set of cover in their little leapfrog mission. She pulled a lever to adjust their speed. “I’ll be happy if we get there in one—”

She was silenced by the shriek of magic slicing the air. The floating stone beside them shattered straight down the middle. Shards of enchanted stone peppered the deck, alongside their two patients. Care leaned against the wheel as she found their pursuers.

The Hesperus Mactans itself bore down on them.

Care pushed the lever as far forward as it would go. “Horseapples! How’re they already after us?”

Martial swallowed hard. He looked to the sword in his talons. “She saw Euroclydon’s power. She knows Andean’s alive.”

“Who’s ‘she?’”

“Not important right now!” Martial leaned over the railing, pointing the sword forward. “Fly! Fly, fly, fly!”

The Hesperus Mactans flew on its vast, honeycombed wings. Wind shifted a dozen different directions as the massive flyder grew closer. Its seven remaining legs flailed at the pegasi soldiers that harassed it, knocking several from the sky in a single swing. A dozen cannons shot at the Vanishing Point, narrowly missing the envelope that held it aloft.

The flutter of wings drew Martial’s attention. The captain of the Blitzwings, Crested Barbary himself, alighted the deck of the Point. “Fly north!”

Martial tilted his head. “What? Away from the fleet? We have a medical emergency!”

“Towards that!” Crested swung his saber northward. “You’ll have cover to reach the fleet from there!”

Care offered up no argument. She spun the ship’s wheel with a desperate swing. The Vanishing Point lurched off its previous path. The glowing stone cracked to slivers in its wake as the Hesperus Mactans missed its mark.

The Corona hovered into view. Martial could see sparks flying from the metal spike on its prow. The Felaccian flagship pointed itself towards the Hesperus Mactans, offering the narrowest possible target. The spike unleashed a bolt of energy upon the flyder, and the enormous Strutter shuddered under the assault.

Care let out a shout. “The hearts!”

“What?” Crested Barbary moved to Andean’s side. When he saw he couldn’t do much for his sovereign’s wounds, he sheathed his sword and pulled the volleygun from his back. “What are you saying about hearts?”

Martial held onto the rigging to prevent himself from being thrown into the ether. The Vanishing Point bucked and swayed, caught as it was between the two warring superpowers. “The enemy’s airship is powered by hearts that have been held hostage. We need to cripple it without destroying it.”

“How do you suggest that?” Crested waved a dismissive talon. “Never mind. I’ll board the flagship and let the princesses know.”

“Princesses?” Andean stirred from his place strapped to the deck. “They were… supposed to flee…”

“I meant Luna, of course, Your Grace.” Crested grabbed his beak to hold it closed. He shot a glare at Martial, bobbed his head in a nod, and took off.

The Hesperus Mactans turned to face its newfound foe. Cannonfire lanced through the canvas core of the Corona, while its clawed legs reached for the canopy. A new wave of defensive firepower forced the flyder back, but the Strutters pulled off their randomized assault to direct their full attention on the Felaccian Flagship.

Their path to the Equestrian fleet was, for the most part, open.

Care adjusted their angle of approach, signaling the deck crew with a few flashes of her horn. “We keep trading one problem for another.”

“Maybe so.” Martial unbound Blankety Blank and cradled the changeling. Once they’d touched down on the ship’s deck, he passed his patient to the waiting hooves of a medical crew. He set about tying down the Vanishing Point, allowing a more equipped medic sturdy purchase to work on Andean.

Martial and Care walked to the aft of the airship to watch the Corona duke it out with the Hesperus Mactans. Fire and thunder weaved together in a web of death and destruction. Ponies and griffons gave their lives to defend the griffon homeland, while Painted Ones died by the dozen in the name of their mad god.

“Lady Carrot?” A low-ranked medic approached Care. “We have King Ursagryph and Specialist Blank in the med bay. The doctors are working their magic as we speak. You’re free to rejoin the fight, Lady Knight.”

“Thank you.” Care Carrot stepped away from the ship’s wheel to help Martial untie the Vanishing Point. “We should start heading back for the castle.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Martial spooled rope and made his way for the airship’s controls. “We still have to wait for Button’s word, but we can still make half a trip.”

“And maybe do some damage along the way?”

“Indubitably.” A thought entered Martial’s head. He acted upon it before the moment could pass by calling out to the medical officer. “Medic! Which ship is Princess Luna aboard? We need to speak with her!”

The medic gave Martial a rueful grin. “She and the Ponyville girl teleported aboard the Corona. I don’t think you’re getting in there anytime soon.”

Martial sighed deep within his chest. The melee around the airship in question only grew more intense. “Yes. I suppose not.”

***

Luna and Apple Bloom appeared in a shower of blue sparks. Luna strode off almost immediately, while Apple Bloom had to take a few minutes to ease the dizziness. A black-feathered, crow-faced griffon bowed to the princess as she passed. “Your Majesty Luna! Please, please talk some sense into the princesses!”

“Chamberlain Corvus, I—” Luna rolled her eyes and brushed him away with a wing. “Are any of the lords aboard?”

“Nay, princess. They were following Andean’s orders and escaped.” Mellori Corvus skittered after her, black feathers flaking in his wake. “The very same orders that the princesses are defying!”

Luna opened the door to the canopy with a spell. She was greeted with two smiling faces. “Princess Luna!”

“What are you two doing?” Luna’s voice was stern, full of as much urgency as she could spare. “You are heading directly into the eye of the storm! You could be killed!”

“More than we have already fallen today, Your Majesty!” Corona spread her red-tinged wings in a halfhearted effort to appear larger. “If we didn’t fight, if we called for your aid and left you to die for our sakes, what sort of princess would I be?”

“A living one.” Princess Luna stared directly out the viewscreen and found herself face-to-face with the Hesperus Mactans itself. The green glow of changeling magic burned within its crystalline eyes. She scowled at the abomination. “Tell the crew to have the ship back away from the flyder. Our greatest advantage right now is our low profile. We can match it for range, but it is a far easier target.”

Chamberlain Corvus bobbed his head repeatedly. “Mm! It shall be done!”

Luna knelt down and scooped Stella into a winged hug. “I am glad the two of you are safe.”

Corona joined the hug on the opposite side. Luna held the two young princesses close, never taking her eyes off the enemy. “We shall win this battle, but I need the two of you to do as I say. Understood?”

“With all due respect, Princess Luna,” Corona said, pulling away, “I am not without skill in leading the army myself.”

“But you are inexperienced.” Luna stood up and walked to the radio. She sat and listened to Corvus relay her orders. “I seek only to guide you, not usurp you.”

“I will accept your guidance.” Corona smiled, a knowing grin that reminded Luna altogether too much of her father. “If you accept my capability.”

“With gratitude, Your Highness.” Luna turned to see Apple Bloom make her way into the observation room. “Ah, Apple Bloom. This is Princess Corona and Stella of Felaccia. And their Chamberlain, Mellori Corvus.”

Corvus gave Apple Bloom the slightest of waves. He focused hard on the earpiece, nodding agreement though it benefitted nobody.

Stella ran as fast as she could to tackle Apple Bloom right in the chest. “Yes! I got to meet another Cutie Mark Crusader! This is so gawrock!”

“Uh.” Apple Bloom regained her footing quickly. She patted Stella’s head with a soft touch of her hoof. “The pleasure’s all mine, Princess Stella. I guess I’m pretty popular ’round these parts?”

Corona’s wings shivered, but she kept some small amount of decorum. She bowed her knee and lowered her head. “It’s an honor to meet you, Apple Bloom.” She grinned, letting out a tiny giggle. “Yeah, you’re kinda a big deal.”

“Neat.” Apple Bloom looked to Luna, still petting Stella, but allowing a worrisome expression overtake her face. “So what’s our next step here, Yo—”

“If I may?” Corvus lowered his microphone and earpiece. “Captain Crested Barbary just boarded, and he seeks an audience with all three princesses.”

“Send him up.” Luna moved to the center of the room to stand beside Corona. Apple Bloom took a seat by the viewports, observing the battle and chewing the edge of her hoof. Stella hopped on Corona’s back, hiding between her older sister’s wings.

Crested Barbary ran into the observation room. He didn’t waste time bowing. “The king is alive. He has been placed aboard the Pogonia for medical treatment.” He raised his talon when Corona tried to answer him. “More urgent is the news that the enemy flagship is powered by your missing hearts, Princess Luna. If we destroy the ship, then we will kill countless innocent people.”

He narrowed his eyes at Luna. “It was for this very reason King Ursagryph acted against Ahuizotl.”

Luna winced, folding her wings tight against her sides. Of course Ahuizotl had used the hearts in such a way. All of the deadly machines were powered by hearts. Their wills linked by Sweetie Belle’s song. The rough estimate, judging by the flyder’s power output, was that around two-hundred hearts were held hostage within.

“We have to board it.” Luna spoke quietly, less to communicate and more to mull over the thoughts. Suss them out. “We have to board it and retrieve the hearts in person.”

There were no expert teams of specialists ready and waiting. The Knights of Harmony—what few were in Felaccia—were pursuing Ahuizotl or recuperating aboard the Pogonia. Centurion Stonewall led the main force personally. The Blitzwings were scattered across Roc.

Apple Bloom frowned at Luna from across the room. “When y’all say ‘we,’ is that the royal ‘we,’ or the general ‘we?’ I’m thinkin’ it’s the former.”

“I mean me, Apple Bloom.” Luna looked to the Hesperus Mactans, which seemed even closer than before. She grumbled and barked an order to Corvus. “Tell the engine room to pull us back. We need space between us and the enemy.”

She spread a wing and laid it across Apple Bloom’s shoulder. “I fear I may be the only creature capable of surviving the retrieval process. I need you to stay here with the princesses.”

“All due respect, Your Majesty…” Apple Bloom stood and cinched her saddlebags tight. “I came to help. You’re gonna need a few hooves to carry all those hearts.”

“You can help most by staying behind—”

“No, that ain’t it.” Apple Bloom clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “Why’d you even bring me if’n you’re just gonna stick me in the background an—”

“Your Majesty!”

Luna shut her eyes and lowered her ears at the sound of Corvus’ grating voice. She turned to berate the crow-faced chamberlain for the interruption.

The Corona rocked with the force of an impact. Luna spread her legs to catch herself. Corona pulled her spear from her back, jostling her sister loose with the movement. Apple Bloom grabbed the window to brace herself. Crested Barbary helped a toppled Mellori to his feet.

Luna sucked in a deep breath. The Hesperus Mactans had outpaced the Corona by a long shot. The flyder had come close enough to the dirigible to dig its clawed legs into the canvas and wootz skeleton of the airship. The changeling technology ripped through the airship with vicious delight, a foal tearing open its Hearth’s Warming Eve gift. Griffon engineers flew from the wreckage, some caught by the flyder’s cannons, some by the Strutters buzzing around the flagships.

Luna all but screamed at Corona. “Get out of the ship!”

The scream was met with equal ferocity. “There’s no time!”

And the young princess was correct; the Hesperus Mactans was upon them. The mandibles flanking the flyder’s face separated and pierced both sides of the observation room. Luna began to weave a spell with her horn: A teleport strong enough to carry the lot of them to safety. But there were too many calculations to go through, too many numbers to finalize. She modified the spell on the fly to encase the room in a strong bubble of magic.

The walls caved in, and the Golemium mandibles crashed against Luna’s magic. Gears wailed as they were stripped clean of their teeth. The pressure in Luna’s skull was tremendous, unlike anything she’s felt since the eclipse that had defeated a hurricane. The Hesperus Mactans seemed to rage at Luna, the flagship having taken on a life of its own. The mandibles bit down harder, harder, ever harder. A claw reached up to scratch at the bubble of willpower keeping the six of them alive.

“Fall, princess!”

Luna heard the voice in her heart of hearts. It echoed in the depths of her soul, chilling her to the core with its callous demand.

“Why won’t you fall?”

The Corona fell away beneath them. The structural integrity compromised, the engines failing, and the crew having abandoned ship or died, it dropped into the lake engulfed in flames. Still Luna remained in place, her shield refusing to give way. Her very soul refusing to give in.

“Return the sun to those who earned it!”

Luna saw red gather at the edges of her vision. Shadows crept around her, enveloping her shield, slithering across the bodies of those she protected. “You think I didn’t earn it, creature? You think I have not struggled and bled for it? You think I have not given my life to its responsible use?” She snapped her teeth and sent a bolt of magic through the air to reinforce her spell. “You think I have not fought to keep it out of the reach of the likes of you?”

The reply was a monstrous roar. The mandibles clamped tight enough that the metallic jaws began to bend. Sparks both magic and mundane flew as the bladed edges bit into Luna’s shield. The pressure built up to the point where the princess couldn’t see straight. The world wavered in and out of focus. She narrowed her attention on one point. One spot in particular. They couldn’t stay where they were. Her spell would fail, and then they would be dead. She had to find a way out.

Or a way in.

Beyond the mandibles, a mouth opened. It was filled with sharpened, rotating spikes, but also a door to the interior. Luna sighed; even the jaws of death seemed a better alternative to being crushed.

She gathered the shadows to herself, scooped the others up with her, and performed a short-range teleport. The mandibles clanged together with the sound of a thousand bells. The six of them reappeared in a shower of blue sparks near the door. It was a sliding door, split down the middle with a seam. Luna rushed forward, not letting the pain in her head slow her movements. She pressed her hooves into the seam and pulled with all her might. Apple Bloom ran up to grab one side, while Crested Barbary took the other. Between the three of them, the mighty wall of metal moved a centimeter at a time.

Luna took a deep breath in and lit her horn. At her bidding, a clump of ice grew at the top of the doorway, several meters thick. The door’s cogs and pistons screeched in protest. “In! Everybody in!”

Stella and Corona slipped through first, their small bodies fitting through the gap easily. Corvus pushed himself through next, with Crested Barbary following soon after. Apple Bloom had to nearly bend in half to squeeze into the tight space. She needed a push from Luna just to get her hind legs inside. Luna allowed the shadows to encompass her entire being. She slipped through the door as a tendril of darkness, then reformed into a solid body on the far side. The ice cracked, shattered, and allowed the door to snap shut.

They found themselves in the depths of the mechanical beast. Several hallways led to who-knew-where. Iron clanged. Energy pulsed. The low lights of the interior of the Hesperus Mactans bathed all in a ruddy glow.

Mellori Corvus all but hid behind Crested Barbary. “I’m afraid I’m a bit out of my element, Your Majesty.”

“Princess?” Apple Bloom pointed to large cords bolted to the ceiling. “Them look a bit like power cables, like y’might see in Twilight’s lab. I’ll betcha they carry magic from the hearts to the different parts of the flyder.”

“I would imagine you are right.” Luna tapped her teeth together as her mane swirled haphazardly around her face. “In other words… all rivers lead to the ocean.”

“Right. We just gotta follow one.” Apple Bloom pulled a face as a thought occurred to her. “An’ then find a way to escape this crazy contraption when the lights go out.”

“Leave that to me.” Luna took a step towards a path that angled upwards. “I shall find the creature piloting this garbage heap and force them to ground it.” She looked to each creature in turn. “While you gather the hearts.”

Corona gripped her spear. “I’m coming with you.”

Luna shook her head without looking back. “I need you to protect the others—”

“You are visibly exhausted, Luna.” Corona slapped her spear butt against the floor plate. “You expended far too much power with that shield to win a fight against whatever ancient evil is driving this… this monster. You need someone to watch your back.”

Luna turned, regarding Corona with a light scowl. “And your sister needs someone to watch hers.”

“I’m coming with you.” Corona narrowed her eyes. “Whether I have your permission or not.”

“If you were to die,” Luna snapped, “I would never again be able to look your father in the eye!”

“And if you were to die, neither my father nor Celestia would ever recover.” Corona pointed her spear, flaring her red-tinged feathers. “Neither of us are expendable, Luna, but neither can we lay down our arms. We have to fight. Together.”

Luna shut her mouth tight. She looked to Apple Bloom, who could only give her a sad shrug.

Mellori Corvus cleared his throat and patted Stella’s head. “If it’s all the same, I would be overjoyed to watch the little angel’s back. Aheh. Heh.”

Stella drew her short sword and swung it in an artful flourish. “I can take care of myself, too, you know! You’re not the only Ursagryph onboard!”

Crested Barbary checked his volleygun, then double-checked that the bayonet was secure. “I’ll make sure they get out, Your Majesty. Count on it.”

Apple Bloom glanced around the room, her ears low. She gave Luna an unconvincing smile. “Well, we’ll get those hearts all collected up before you know it. You two just go an’ lay down the law.”

Luna stared down the corridor towards the bridge. She let out a huff, glancing at Princess Corona. “I suppose this is a stern reminder than I am not sovereign in Felaccia?”

“I am the acting queen.” Corona gripped her spear’s haft, the wood shaft squeaking against her skin. “But I know I could never succeed without your help.”

“Then we rise—” Luna spread her wings and flew down the corridor. The flap of feathers behind her said that Corona had done the same. “—and meet whatever challenge lies before us.”

***

Confuto shoved Chrysalis towards the beetle-shaped Strutter in the castle courtyard. The young changeling stumbled right onto her face. The chilled remnants of her wings flaked off. The wound was dreadful, but not mortal. Her back plates had peeled away from the force of the magic and the cold. The white flesh could be seen beneath the cracked carapace, vulnerable and fragile.

The Painted One grasped her beneath her foreleg and practically tossed her on board the vessel. He rested himself on the pilot’s seat and flicked various switches to power the Strutter up. The clawed legs retracted. The shells covering the hex-patterned wings opened up and became shields for the occupants. Two heavy cannons hummed to life. The Strutter rose into the air.

The vehicle jolted to a stop. Confuto nearly fell from his seat. He glared at the battlements surrounding the courtyard. There, at the corners of the massive wall that surrounded the castle: Electromagnets. The castle’s new anti-air defenses. Soldiers manned the disk-shaped devices; two were in range to keep the Strutter locked in place.

With a grunt of rage and frustration, Confuto yanked both control yokes to the side. The Strutter twisted and yawed in midair, never breaking from the magnetic grip, but twisting to a new position. The cannons barked. A bolt of magic power shot into the darkness and impacted the surface of one magnet. Two more shots flew, and the magnet cracked right down the center. Magic and magnetism crackled around the castle walls as the device was ripped apart by its own natural forces.

The second electromagnet was a far easier target. Two shots was all it took to disable the device, with a similarly spectacular result. Confuto pulled both yokes up, gaining altitude while staying out of range of the other two electromagnets on the west side of the castle. He’d done it. He’d finished the mission with acceptable casualties. Ahuizotl would be pleased. Queen Cicada would be most pleased.

He smiled at the changeling queen shivering in one of the passenger’s seats. “Please make yourself comfortable, My Lady. It is a three-day trip back to Fel—”

The ship halted, a far more violent stop than before. Confuto smacked his nose against the control console. He looked around for more electromagnets, but found none in range. He pulled the yokes this way and that, but there were no twists or turns. Not even a wiggle. The ship stayed in place, as solid as a rock.

He pulled the Fimbulvetr from beneath his cloak and menaced Chrysalis. “Is this your doing? Speak!”

Chrysalis wiped tears from her eyes. She seemed much calmer; distressed, though on a different level than life-threatening. She looked around the Strutter and pointed to the pink glow that shimmered around the edges. “No. It’s hers…”

“Who are you—?” Confuto snapped his mouth shut and raced to the edge of the Strutter. He looked down to the ground and saw a single, solitary pony.

Princess Mi Amore Cadenza stared directly into his soul, her eyes overtaken with a blinding white glow. Her magic aura lit up the entire courtyard. Her wings spread wide. Her hooves stood in a wide, anchoring stance. The Fimbulvetr was ripped right out of his hooves and smashed against the ground. The force of a winter storm surrounded her, but every flake melted when it came within a meter of her.

Confuto screamed. He leaped towards the controls and pushed the Strutter to its limit. The engine whined. The heart at the center of it all screamed in pain. The armored shell bent and warped as the wings were pulled off their foundations. Plates came apart. Ancient screws removed themselves from their holes. Joints came undone. Confuto felt the floor of the Strutter fall away, but he remained suspended in Cadence’s magic.

Chrysalis was lowered slowly to the ground, where she collapsed at Cadenza’s hooves.

Confuto reached for a control yoke, but it was pulled away from him. The Strutter hovered around him in pieces, disassembled to its base components. His cloak flapped in the chilled wind.

His teeth chattered as he whispered. “Let the earth tremble…”

The individual bits of the Strutter came back together as a jumbled, crumpled mess. They wrapped around Confuto and sealed him within a prison of solid metal. Cadence propelled the orb of trash into the ground. Shards of Golemium spread out from the impact. She lifted the orb and brought it down again. And again. And again.

“Once,” she said, “for each of the children you hurt tonight.”

The crumpled wreckage lay still and silent, having become little more than a tomb for the High Priest of the Painted Ones.

The wind died down. The shimmer of magic faded. Chrysalis covered her face with her hooves, too afraid to move.

Cadence sighed. She knelt down in front of the young girl and brought her face close. “It’s alright. You’re safe now.”

Chrysalis shuddered. She curled up on herself, tears pouring down her cheeks.

“The doctors have examined your guards. They shall all make a full recovery.” Cadence tried to smile. She tried really hard. She failed all the same. “Even Bugly. Though I suppose his eye doesn’t regenerate.”

“How can you call me safe,” Chrysalis II said, “knowing what I am to you?”

Cadence closed her eyes tight. She swallowed the lump rapidly forming in her throat. “I—you are the sovereign of an allied—”

“You hate me…” Chrysalis’ voice was hoarse. Raw. Broken. Her blue mane, so like Shining Armor’s, flowed around her ears in an unkept mess. “I feel it every time you look at me. You can’t hide it.”

Cadence winced and looked away. Her heart beat in her chest, resoundingly loud. Unquenchable. Unmistakable. “I… I refuse to hate you anymore, Chrysalis. It’s not fair of me. I hated what I thought you were… But what I think of you has no bearing on who you actually are.”

Chrysalis II’s bright blue eyes blinked. Soft sobs choked their way out of the young queen.

“You are the sovereign ruler of the changelings.” Cadence sniffed, rubbing the tip of her nose so as not to dribble. “You are leading your people on to a brighter future. You are the master of your own destiny.” Cadence fought through the pain. She needed to speak the truest statement. The one that hurt the most to admit. “You are my husband’s eldest daughter. That makes you family. No matter the circumstances of your birth. No matter the actions of your mother. That does not define you. It does not control you. You are you, Chrysalis, and you are beautiful.”

She reached out and touched a tender hoof to Chrysalis’ cheek. “It was wrong of me to hate such beauty. And it is wrong of you to deny its power.”

Cadence spread her wings and enveloped the girl. She touched her cheek to Chrysalis’ forehead. “You are free from our expectations, Chrysalis. Free from our prejudices. Free from your mother’s deeds. Lead your people the way only you can.”

The Princess of the Crystal Empire didn’t know whether Chrysalis accepted the embrace, or just didn’t have the strength to pull away. Whatever the circumstances, she knew that the both of them needed the hug dearly. “I can say that you are safe, because I will do everything in my power to give you the opportunity to live your life.”

Her eyes met Chysalis’. Both full of tears. Both full of regrets. “I’m so sorry that I hurt you for so long,” Cadence said. “Never, ever again.”

Peace fell upon the courtyard as the two of them found solace—however slight—in each other’s presence.

The Rhythm

Button Mash sucked in a breath as Ahuizotl disappeared into an open window. “He’s making his move!”

“Give me the dragonfire!” Caballeron reached into the saddlebags between them before Button could move. “Never mind. What floor is this?”

“Uh…” Button eased them closer to the castle. The flock of dragoncopters closed in, their weapons priming. “Twelfth from the top? I think?” He jerked the yoke to the side and flew through the window. A burning tapestry fluttered in his vision before he sped past. “Yeah. This is probably the most direct route to the crypt.”

“What makes you say that?”

“That tapestry had the Wyrmslayers on it.”

“Wyrm… slayers…” Caballeron scribbled as fast as he could on a small notepad. He glanced up, let out a dissatisfied grunt, and resumed writing directions. “The bogies aren’t following us.”

Button Mash looked back to verify that, yes, they were alone in the wide corridor. Ahead, he could see the massive doors blocking the way to the catacombs. The ancient relief of a lion and eagle remained where they were, dripping blood into the sepulcher at their feet. “Wh—where’s Ahui—?”

The mad god swung in through a window on the far side of the hall, crashing into their ship feet-first. Their wings scraped against the wall, their thin hexagon-dotted membrane being shredded by the force of the blow and the friction of the stone. Button lost control. The ship spiraled down the hallway, smashing against both walls. They flipped, rolled, and came to a rest at the base of the double-doors.

One of the Wyrmslayer blades sliced through the center of their dragoncopter, severing it clean in two. Button unlashed himself and stumbled out of the wreckage. He wasn’t able to move far before he found himself fully enclosed by the shadow of Ahuizotl. The mad god swung the Wyrmslayer close to Button’s face. The young stallion felt the heat of the blade singe his whiskers.

“Now then,” Ahuizotl said. “Finished playing the hero?”

Button looked over Ahuizotl’s shoulder. Sweetie clung there, wrapped up in the coils of Ahuizotl’s tail. She was gagged by the clawed, hand-like end. She stared wide-eyed.

“I could have killed you any time.” Ahuizotl laughed to himself. He rolled the Wyrmslayer with a flourish. “It’s not hard to knock one of these Strutters out of the sky.”

Caballeron pulled himself from the twisted mess of metal. He rolled his body so that Ahuizotl couldn’t see him light the notepad with a small vial of dragonfire. The smoke swept through the corridor, unnoticed among the general carnage.

“But I find myself in need of your special skills.” Ahuizotl pointed the blade at Caballeron’s chest. “The both of you.”

Ahuizotl picked up the two halves of the dragoncopter and flung them from the door. He pulled the lion’s half open, then kicked the eagle’s portion aside. He slapped Button lightly, which was enough to sent the stallion to his knees. “Get in.”

When Button hesitated at the top of the staircase leading into the catacombs, he was pushed forward by Ahuizotl’s booming voice. “Move!”

The mad god breathed heavily as he looked back down the corridor. No one could be seen. He followed Button and Caballeron as they crawled down the stairs and past the countless bodies of griffon kings. The glowing Wyrmslayer blade lit the way, and served as a constant reminder of the fragility of life. Button Mash gritted his teeth. “Could you at least let Sweetie Belle breathe?”

“And allow her to sing? Even a note?” Ahuizotl chuckled, though his laughter was humorless. “You think me a fool, boy? I’ve been paying attention.”

Their trek was all too short. They found the Sunspear’s control room lying before them. It glowed from within, the mountain’s core of magical gemstones emanating pure, white light. The light was discolored by the honey-tinted hexagonal panels enclosing the tunnel into the depths of the unfathomable geode. On the walls, tales of Cicada’s atrocities lay bare, alongside a dreadful mirror of Ahuizotl’s smug grin.

The mad god set Sweetie on the ground, her mouth still covered by his hind claw. He rested the Wyrmslayer’s blade against her throat. “Your next actions will decide Sweetie Belle’s life.”

Every muscle in Button’s body tensed. “If you kill her—!”

“There are others with her skills. None nearly as strong…” Ahuizotl ground his teeth together. “Acceptable losses, considering the gains I’ve made today. Merely a setback. Speak again, and I’ll remove her head.”

Button’s mouth snapped shut. Caballeron stood beside him, his jaw firm.

“Now then.” Ahuizotl leaned forward, putting weight on Sweetie’s back. “Button… Mash, was it? Yes. That was your name. The boy without enough magic in his fairy strings to even power a Strutter.” The monster looked behind Button and pointed a claw at the control center. “The less magic you have within your body, the longer you can survive in there…”

Chills ran all throughout Button’s body. There was enough power running through that thing to power the entirety of Equestria. Possibly for several years. The controls had lain untouched for millennia, but were still so ready, so eager to scour the world with fire.

“Caballeron,” Ahuizotl boomed, “you will instruct Button Mash on how to operate the Sunspear. You will direct its target to be the center of Roc, and you will fire it. Do this, or Sweetie Belle will die. Then you shall die. Then everything you love will die. Is that motivation enough?”

Button sucked in a deep breath. He met Sweetie’s eyes, full of tears.

Ahuizotl grimaced. “Five… four…”

“I’ll do it!” Button Mash trotted towards the control center, his chest heaving. “Just give me time.” He looked Caballeron in the eye. “We just need enough time.”

Caballeron nodded his understanding. He followed Button to the enclosed space. He opened the first of two sets of doors, spaced to keep the magic surge from escaping. “The instant you step into that, the pain will be nearly unbearable. We’ll have to work quickly to get it running before you pass out.”

The doctor flicked his eyes upwards. “Once the magic has somewhere to go, there’ll be less chance of you spontaneously combusting. Got it?”

Button pulled the doors closed and nodded. He approached the second set with trembling limbs. He rested his hoof on the handle.

Ahuizotl swung his Wyrmslayer and sliced the latch off the first set of doors, trapping Button completely. Caballeron leapt back, swearing at the top of his lungs.

The fiend growled. “No backing out, Button Mash! You see this through to the end!” Sweetie struggled in his clawgrip, her horn shimmering. Ahuizotl squeezed until the light went out.

“I’m doing what you asked, you freak!” Button pushed the doors open. He was instantly met with a blast of force to the face. Was it heat? Was it pressure? Was it life itself? Perhaps all of these and more. Pure magic paraded through his limbs, into his head, through his heart. He screamed, gripping his sinuses as every semblance of reason and rational thought dribbled out of his mind.

His eyes fluttered open. He heard a voice, gruff and insistent, at the edge of his perception. Caballeron pounded against the amber-colored hexagons. The doctor shouted the same words, over and over.

“Get up! Get up, Button!”

His head throbbing, Button Mash gathered his legs beneath himself and pushed. He tottered upright, His vision doubling. He forced himself to focus on Caballeron.

“—evers at the points of the compass!” Caballeron motioned for Button to go around the tubular room. “Pull the four levers at the points of the compass!”

Button nodded. He looked around for any sign of the levers. He nearly lost his footing when he saw what lay right in front of him; an endless pit leading into the center of the mountain. Magic poured forth unabated—perhaps no force could hold it back entirely. A sharp pain entered his leg—the fairy strings within began to glow with overflowing power. A quick glance brought four levers into view. He rushed for the closest, keeping one hoof on the wall to keep himself from plummeting. A strong, smooth tug jolted the lever into place.

Mechanical devices hidden within the walls clanked with the movement of gearwork. The same held true for the other three levers. Caballeron followed him from the outside, speaking as they worked. “When the levers are pulled, find the dials etched with changeling script. There are several, but we want the one with a… a triangle-looking… thing with a dangly bit coming out the bottom.”

Button couldn’t find it in himself to laugh. He found the dial in question as a burning sensation crept up through his hind legs.

“Turn it three times. Clockwise.” Poni Caballeron’s breath became short. He tapped the amber hexagon. “Quickly.”

The sensation etched its way across Button’s muzzle. He could see the magic blazing its way across his face. He stumbled forwards, rotating the dial by feel.

“Push the button!” Poni Caballeron smacked the hexagon right beside Button’s face. “To the right! Push the button!”

Button peered over. A red dot swam in and out of his vision. He reached for it, but it dodged away.

“It’s right there!” Poni pounded the transparent material with all his might. “Higher! Just a little higher!”

Button’s hoof met a solid object. The gears overhead rattled and rumbled. Magic shot upwards into the castle, headed on a direct course to the Sunspear. The pressure in Button’s head eased, though did not go away completely. He found himself able to stand, to meet Dr. Caballeron face-to-face. Ahuizotl’s howling laughter rattled the hexagons, while Poni gnashed his teeth together.

“You’ve bought yourself a few minutes.” Poni directed Button to follow him around to the far side of the room. “Let’s hope that’s all Martial needs.”

***

Corona moved quickly through the corridors, hidden by Luna’s wings. The airship seemed bereft of life, yet something still drove the thing onward. The feathers on her neck stood up. The fur on her flanks itched. She gripped the spear tighter and tighter until her knuckles turned white.

Luna was a ghost. A shadow on the wall. The darkness enveloped her until it became her. Was she immaterial, or was it just an illusion? Corona suspected now was not the time to ask.

Blinking light appeared ahead. Control panels. Targeting reticules. Altimeters. Maps. All of Felaccia appeared in midair at the center of the bridge, with Roc highlighted in brilliant red. A voice spoke in an unknown language, sounding for all the world like a countdown.

A metallic figure stood silhouetted by the map. It was equine, but not quite. Two antlers spread out from the head. Two hexagon-faceted wings sprouted from the back. Cloven hooves kicked at the ground. A sinister green glow shimmered through the seams in the armor.

“Princess Luna,” the mechanical creature said. “It seems fated that we should meet.”

Luna materialized, but only from the neck-up. Even that was transparent. “To whom do I owe the beating?”

“Your predecessor.” The automaton spread its wings. It eyes took on a brighter hue. “I am Queen River Cicada, first Bearer of the Element of Magic.”

Luna spread a glimmering wing to conceal Corona from view. She strode forward, her hoofsteps trailing stardust. “A bearer, capable of committing such atrocities?”

“Says the once-famed Nightmare Moon?” Cicada tilted her head as the map dissolved into nothingness. “Princess, I have done great and terrible things, but attempting to cause global extinction is not one of them.”

Corona leaned against the wall. Though no one could see into Luna’s spell, the griffon princess still had full view of the ship’s bridge. She spotted the main control panel, with a large wheel decorating the front. Levers meant to control the eight legs lay beside it. All of these were moving on their own, untouched by a single living creature.

The ship drove itself?

Perhaps Cicada’s consciousness was the ship’s?

Green magic coursing through the floors, walls and ceilings lent a clue as to the validity of the thought. The magic seen before had been a kaleidoscope of colors, many hearts beating to the same tune. This, though? A single, solitary soul.

Luna narrowed her eyes at the mechanoid. “If you dwell on the past, it’s all you’ll ever be.”

“And here you are, clinging to the status quo of a thousand years.” Cicada walked over to the window to observe the battle. She placed a cloven hoof on the amber material. She gazed at the sun overhead. “I have watched you ponies hold a sword to the world’s collective neck for all this time. Squelching rebellions. Deposing foreign powers. Imprisoning some monsters while lauding others.” She lit her horns with green fire. “It makes no difference to anyone which superpower holds the reigns to the sun, save for me and you.”

“It matters to the lives you have destroyed,” Luna said. “I am the one who raises the sun each morning, and I am the one who sets it each night. The Celestial Objects are no longer your responsibility.”

A spell went from Cicada’s horns skyward. “Then take them from me.”

Corona squinted into the distance. They had turned to face the castle. A light glinted atop the tallest parapet, where the Sunspear lay. Magic poured from it, lancing skyward.

Luna eyes and horn both glowed bright white as she reached for the sun.

Corona burst out of magical concealment with a high-pitched twitter. “Luna, stop! It’s a tra—!”

Luna’s spell hit the sun at the same moment the Sunspear’s unleashed power gripped it tight. A jolt of sheer unrelenting force crashed through Luna’s head and rattled throughout her fairy strings. Her enchantments came undone. Her body returned to the corporeal plane. Smoke and ashes billowed from around her as she collapsed.

Corona lay in the open, gaping in horror at Luna’s sizzling pain. The Princess of the Night’s chest heaved as she fought to suck in breath after breath. Corona flipped her spear to throw it at the Changeling Queen, but a blast of crackling energy clobbered her in the chest. Her back hit the bulkhead and her spear clattered uselessly to the floor.

The world vanished into blackness. The last thing to go was the bronze-colored metal of Cicada’s armor. “Acting Queen of Felaccia, it’s time we had a talk.”

Corona covered her head, but no further attack came. She opened her eyes and found herself in the halls of the mountain castle. The sweet smell of baked good tickled her nose. Tapestries hung from every wall, depicting the great feats of griffon heroes.

The warm sun shining through stained-crystal windows, the gentle breeze flowing through open doors, the light mumble of conversation in the distance… it was home at its most peaceful and comforting.

“Your ideal is beautiful, Corona.”

Corona spread her red-feathered wings. She backed away from the newcomer; a changeling slightly shorter than her. This creature had wafting, silky turquoise locks. Intelligent pale-green eyes. A soft face. A weak frown.

“You have so much to fight for,” the changeling said. Her voice came in clear, unmarred by its usual electronic distortion. “Surely you can understand how I feel.”

“Cicada?” Corona reached for her spear, but no such weapon lay within reach. “What is this?”

“It is my opportunity to tell you why I do the things I do.” River held out a cloven hoof. “And why you must aid me.”

“Corona!” The sweet song of her little sister’s voice touched Corona’s ears. “Papa and I made scones! Come eat with us.”

As Corona turned to face Stella, the sun faded to deepest, darkest night. Not even stars shone through the overbearing clouds. Stella skidded to a halt, her eyes wide.

“You see, Corona,” Cicada said, “we fight for the same purpose. We fight to protect what we love from what is to come.”

Corona shut her eyes as a bitter chill frosted the edges of her wings. “And what is to come?”

“The Fae.” Cicada gritted her teeth. “The Unseelie Court approaches.”

The windows crumbled inward as a shower of broken glass. Living shadows swirled around her feet, grasping at her with cold claws and gnawing teeth. Stella screeched as she was tackled to the ground.

Corona reached forward, but was halted by a gibbering blob of ooze. “No! Leave her alone!”

“The Fae are all-powerful. They cannot be killed. The cannot be bought.” Cicada walked through the morass like it wasn’t even there. “Our only hope is to prevent them from gaining control of the sun.”

An explosion rocked the castle. Andean Ursagryph battled a massive creature, whose form defied logic or reason. Grasping claws pulled Euroclydon from his talons and dragged him into the emptiness at the base of the mountain.

“Papa!” Corona struggled. She fought. She raked her talons across the face of the nearest phantom. Her arms went right through. Nothing even touched them.

“I’ve tried to warn King Ursagryph for years.” Cicada shook her head as the king screamed his last. “Nightly dreams, detailing the threat of the Unseelie. But when the moment came, he was too weak to accept my help. You can be different, Corona.”

“You?” Corona flapped her wings to gain a modicum of personal space. But the fairy creatures flocked to her in even greater numbers. “You’ve been giving my father nightmares? How?”

“You live above an ancient changeling city.” Cicada folded her wings. A hail of arrows sped past her. “Where my empire lies, so too goes my influence.”

The arrows struck Stella with the force of a freight train. The little griffon chick collapsed with a gasp.

“Stella! No!” Corona pushed towards her sister. She cradled the tiny form, tears pouring from her eyes. “Get up! You’re okay! Come on!”

“This is the future that awaits you, Corona!” River Cicada lit her horn. A war broke out around the castle. Griffons fell as more and more fairies swarmed the mountainside. “Join me, and we can prevent it!”

“Prevent it?” Corona whirled on Cicada with her beak snapping. “This is happening right now! Right in the middle of Roc! You started a whole freaking war because you can’t stand the thought of somebody else having the sun! You’re kidnapping hearts, and you think you’re the good guy?”

She looked down at the image of Stella that lay in her arms. The arrows stuck out at odd angles. The blood soaked into Corona’s coat; red to match the edges of her feathers. It wasn’t real, she told herself. It couldn’t be real. She put the griffon chick down, where the mass of Fae swallowed her up.

“Disappointing.” River Cicada tilted her head back. “What would your mother say?”

“My wha—?” The floor fell out from beneath Corona. She tumbled headfirst into unyielding stone. She pushed herself upright, her claws ready to fight off anything.

Instead of a foe, she face a hospital bed. In the bed lay a griffon female, gaunt and gray of face. Her plumage had long fallen out due to the harshness of her medicine. Her wings were wrapped in protective cushions. She reached for Corona and spoke, but could barely put two sounds together.

Cicada strode up beside Corona. “You know what it is like to lose something you love so very dearly.”

Corona approached the bed, but stopped at a makeshift barrier; a meager measure to prevent diseases from attacking the ailing griffon. “Mama?”

“You will see this scene repeated,” Cicada said through clenched teeth. “Time and time again. As everything you love is dragged screaming into the abyss.”

Corona felt young again. So very, very young and helpless. A child of nine, watching her mother melt away. A weeping little sister. An inconsolable father. An unfightable illness, whose cure would not be found for half a decade.

River Cicada rested a hoof on Corona’s shoulder. “You don’t have to face this again.”

Corona grabbed River’s hoof in a vice, one crafted from talons and sinew. She twisted the changeling’s foreleg and faced her head-on. River gaped at the griffon princess as she was lowered to her knees.

“My mother would not wish to be remembered like this,” Corona hissed. She gave Cicada’s leg another twist, her talons scraping against the chitin. “She was a strong warrior, whether her foe was a creature or an illness. She was beautiful, and kind, and wise. And now that she’s left her mortal coil, she is so much more alive.”

The bed vanished in a puff of smoke. A griffon queen stood before them, her muscles strong, her plumage brilliant, her fur silky. A circlet of silver sat atop her head, illuminated with magic that did not come from Cicada’s horn, but from Corona’s wings.

Embers flew from the tips of Corona’s reddish feathers. Flames licked at her wings and back, but did not consume her. They came from within. Powered by her heart. Guided by her soul. “That is my mother; Fayr Ursagryph. Proud. Strong. The Queen of Felaccia. You will honor her memory.”

She released River with a shove. Andean Ursagryph stepped out of the shadows to stand beside his wife. An uninjured Stella alighted her mother’s back, brandishing her rapier.

Corona’s talon bumped against a rod. She grasped it and lifted it out of the mist, revealing it to be her spear. She twirled it between her talons and took a stand with her family. “We are the Ursagryphs. Guardians of Felaccia. Warrior griffons all. We will not bow to you. We will not condone your actions. We will not lay silent as you raze the world to suit your own twisted sense of justice.”

Corona’s heart raced. Magic pumped from her heart to her limbs. The red edges of her feathers shimmered, then ignited with blinding fire. The blaze burst out from the core of her being, incinerating the darkness of the dream. Cicada screamed as she was torn apart and reformed as the fleshless automaton she had transformed herself into. The Hesperus Mactan’s bridge returned to Corona’s view. Luna’s unconscious body lay before her. The Changeling Queen stood at the window, unsteady on its four legs.

The phantoms of her family vanished, one by one, but their presence was still felt in Corona’s chest. She gave her mother a final glance, and was rewarded with a proud smile.

Queen Corona stretched her spear arm towards Queen Cicada. “Now, draw your weapon and face your superior.”

***

“There!” Martial Paw hung from the rigging of the Vanishing Point, pointing at the castle with his uncle’s sword. “That’s the floor!”

Care spun the ships wheel to avoid a burning husk of a Strutter. “How can you tell?”

“Honestly?” Martial furrowed his brow and sheathed Euroclydon. “It’s the point where the ant-looking doohickeys are converging.”

Hundreds of the automatons were scaling the walls of the castle, drawing to a singular point. It was just as Button and Caballeron had described: The hallway led straight to the catacombs. Martial had only been in them a couple of times, and then only briefly. He had no idea there was a room beyond the hall of griffon kings.

“You can’t fight all of them off.” Care tightened her helmet strap after wiping sweat from her forehead. “Not even with that sword. I’ll have to hold them off while you go after Ahuizotl.”

“If I cannot defeat them on my own,” Martial said, “surely you cannot.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Care grinned, throwing him a wink. “I’ll send up a flare and hope help comes. There’s gotta be somebody the flyder hasn’t killed yet.”

Martial landed beside the ship’s wheel. He prevented her from turning it with a talon between the spokes. “This conversation is ridiculous.”

“We both know the kid ain’t gonna be the one to take Ahuizotl out.” Care gave him a halfhearted mockery of a smile, throwing her forelegs out in a shrug. “Got a better idea?”

Martial rolled his eyes up and to the left. “Of course not.” He spread his wings and allowed the wind to carry him to the bombed out windows. Fire and magic swirled in his wake as Care’s horn went to work creating barriers to slow the approach of the automatons.

“Alright, you worthless junkyard trash!” She slung a rope to the castle and tied the airship to an outcropping. A gust of wind maneuvered the ship to block off the window with its main bulk. If the Strutters wanted to get into the castle on that floor, they had to tear their way through the Vanishing Point. “Step right up and see just what a Knight of Harmony can do!”

Martial’s wings beat at a fever pitch as he threw himself down the hall. The carpet and tapestries near the window burned, most of the artifacts already naught but cinders in the wake of the Hesperus Mactans’ attack. Still visible was the one that depicted an ancient griffon king slaying his draconic foe with the accursed Wyrmslayer blades.

The catacombs—the crypt—lay open and ready for him. He folded his wings and moved at a run, so as not to disturb the sleeping kings therein. He drew the Turner volleygun and checked it; all four barrels held a slug.

As he neared the more recent griffon kings, laughter echoed off the walls. A hum buzzed in his ears as a massive amount of power channeled its way through the mountain. Ahuizotl’s voice spoke, and the shriek of metal being torn accompanied it. Martial broke through, and found himself behind the mad god.

Button lay within a cylinder of amber-colored panels. Caballeron watched him closely from the outside. Sweetie Belle lay in Ahuizotl’s grip, squirming but unable to break free.

Martial leveled the volleygun and opened fire.

Ahuizotl screamed. The claw at the tip of his tail released Sweetie’s face. He swatted at his back where the shot had hit.

Martial twisted the four barrels of the Turner. The second shot hit Ahuizotl in the shoulder. The third struck his chest as he spun. The fourth hit the monster just above his left eye.

With his shots depleted, the Turner made its way back into Martial’s belt. He drew Euroclydon and held it tight with both talons. He spread his wings and launched himself at Ahuizotl. “For Daring!”

Ahuizotl drew a Wyrmslayer and swung it in the same motion. He struck Martial’s sword with enough force to send him across the room in a tailspin. Martial corrected himself and flew to the left just before the sword was able to annihilate him. He jabbed at the mad god and was deflected.

Sparks flew as Ahuizotl’s sword dug into the wall, scarring the changeling reliefs. The beast’s rage made itself evident in a horrific roar that thundered through Martial’s heart. “For every foe I quash, a dozen more slither from the woodwork!”

Both Wyrmslayer blades sung through the air. Martial flew through the deadly maze of fire and wootz. Euroclydon found its mark and bit into Ahuizotl’s leg. A lick of fire scarred Martial’s flank. Lightning raked across Ahuizotl’s eyes. The mad god’s bulk tackled Martial to the ground with a shrug of his bleeding shoulder.

Martial scrambled back, each kick of his hind legs dodging a swipe of a Wyrmslayer. He raised Euroclydon, only for the legendary sword to be struck from his grasp. It spiraled across the floor to clatter against the far wall. A handspring brought Martial to his feet, and a flap of his wings took him out of Ahuizotl’s reach.

The mad god stood between him and the sword. Ahuizotl scraped the Wyrmslayers together, heating the room. “I’ll send you back to Equestria in pieces! You’ll be worm food alongside your precious Daring Do!”

Martial tensed up. He had to go around Ahuizotl. He had one chance. Too far to the left or right, and he’d be incinerated. He sucked in a breath as the swords began to swing.

Sweetie Belle’s voice broke through the struggle, loud and clear, like silver bells in the night. “Ahuizotl!”

Ahuizotl snarled as he glanced at her. His eyes widened with the horror of realization. “No—!”

Sweetie shut her eyes, squared her legs, and sucked in a deep breath.

“The mad god provides
Testimony and lies
That he fights for the noblest cause
But ages of time
Cannot cover his crime
He has gallons of blood on his paws!”

Each sung word and each varied note drove shuddering jolts of tension through Ahuizotl’s body. He surged towards Sweetie with the intent to smite her from the mountainside. Martial dove for the center of his chest and dug his talons into the mad god’s wounds. Between Sweetie’s weakening effect and his own strength, the two of them pushed Ahuizotl back step by step.

“He claims to connect
In both body and soul
To the Elements of Harmony
But if he was so full
Of joy and good will
He’d set all his prisoners free!”

Ahuizotl’s teeth gnashed, and Martial jerked his head away from the bite. He flew up and over Ahuizotl to land beside Euroclydon. He grasped the sword’s hilt tight and swung it up and around. The mad god’s Wyrmslayer scorched a trail through the atmosphere towards Martial’s head.

Martial thrust the sword upwards and struck Ahuizotl through the wrist. The monster howled as the Wyrmslayer fell from his limp left claw. Lightning surged through Ahuizotl’s bones until Martial finally pulled the sword away.

Ahuizotl stumbled back, gazing slack-jawed at the charred hole in his arm. Words failed him completely. He drew the Spade of Hearts with the claw at the end of his tail. He thrust the dagger at Martial’s chest, ready to rip the heart right out of his body.

“His maniac army bows at the knee
And considers his commands sublime
But he’s not divine, lacking rhythm and rhyme

“What
Is the price
Of a god?”

Ahuizotl covered his rightmost ear with the hilt of his remaining Wyrmslayer, spraying flecks of spittle with his screams of agony. He regained enough presence of mind to deflect a swipe from Martial. His dagger sought the griffon warrior’s throat, but met naught but thin air. “I hate you!”

His superheated sword struck deep into the stone floor. Shards of molten minerals rained towards Martial. He raised his arm to protect his face, but thousands of burns and cuts appeared in his skin. The searing pain caused him to cry out and fly away.

The mad god turned wild eyes on Sweetie Belle, who stared up at him with stark terror. “I’ll rip you apart,” he growled, “with my bare hands!”

***

Apple Bloom skidded to a halt as they reached the heart of the flyder, the centermost part of the ship. Her heart sank, even as two-hundred hearts shone back at her. They beat in synch, each pulse expertly timed. Each heart equally fragile. Each heart equally alive. “This is nuts.”

“Come on!” Stella flew past, dragging a sizable saddlebag behind her. “We don’t have a lot of time!”

“Wait!” Mellori clutched the small volleygun Crested had given him. The captain of the guard grasped the barrel to keep it away from his face. “If we remove the power source of the airship, what’ll happen to us?”

Crested Barbary nodded his head. “The chamberlain has a point. If we remove the hearts, we’re more likely to drown in the lake than save anybody.”

Apple Bloom tapped her lip. “But if’n we remove the hearts a little bit at a time, we might just slow the ship down some. Make it sluggish. Keep it from fightin’ as hard.”

Stella rolled her eyes and swung her sword in an intricate little dance. “The whole point is to shut down the ship. We just gotta pull the plug and run to the control room to get Corona and Princess Luna. Easy. It’s not gonna fall all at once. Probably.”

Apple Bloom opened her saddlebags and dumped the potions out. Carefully. The colorful vials rolled across the floor, collecting in the lowest corner of the room. She waved Stella upward. “Go’wan, Princess! Grab some hearts from the top.”

Stella sheathed her rapier and grasped a heart with both talons. She teased it out of its receptacle, bit by bit, until it came away with a hum of energy. The precious life lay glimmering in her palm, sparkling with a silent “thank you.”

Apple Bloom laughed. Maybe the end was in sight. Maybe they’d win this battle after all. Maybe the danger was passed.

Maybe the mechanical clatter behind her wasn’t an army of Strutters out for blood.

Crested Barbary’s talon pushed her head down. “Get back!”

A bolt of energy lanced through the doorway. Crested leaned against the bulkhead and returned fire. “Get the hearts! We’ll hold them back!”

His shots reflected off the metal armor of an ant-shaped automaton. The monstrosity reeled back, but was quickly replaced by two others. More of the machines churned in the dim light of the Hesperus Mactans, each waiting for their turn in the firing line.

Mellori Corvus squawked and opened fire with his own volleygun. He and Crested kept their shots sparing and accurate, limited ammo being their biggest concern.

Apple Bloom stayed out of the line of fire, moving to the far side of the ship’s core. Stella pulled another heart out of its prison. She looked at the two hearts in hand and let out a tweet of exasperation. “We can’t carry all these hearts! It’d take a dozen bags, not four! Isn’t there another way—?”

Apple Bloom flicked her eyes at the collection of potions. Piranha plants could tangle the hearts up, but might also try to eat them. An explosion would be exactly zero use—“Hold up.”

She rolled the combustible potions towards Crested. “Here! Toss these at the robots!”

Crested hefted a vial at their attackers. A violent bang brought a smile to his beak. “Got any more of those?”

“Only a couple. Kinda dangerous to lug around, y’know?” She sent the last two on their way towards the gunfight. The rest of the potions were equally unhelpful. Invisibility potions. Stamina potions. About a gallon of balloon juice…

“I was watching the fight earlier,” Stella said, “and the ponies had a potion that made the robots float in midair.” She shrugged. “Do you have anything like that? Would that work on the hearts, too?”

“In theory. The potions modify magic to become lighter than air.” Apple Bloom picked up a vial of balloon juice and let a drop fall on one of the hearts. A flicker, a shine, and the heart rose into the air of its own accord. “Ha! Empirical evidence!”

Apple Bloom passed a vial to Stella. “Sprinkle a little o’ this on each heart. When the time comes, we’re gonna use the saddlebags as a net. Got it?”

Stella pumped a fist. “Gawrock!”

***

Corona never stopped moving. She struck with her spear each time she flew past Cicada. The queen of the changelings fired spell after spell, but they were either avoided or swallowed up by the fire engulfing Corona’s body.

Cicada changed tactics. She aimed her horns at Luna’s unconscious body and conjured a spell powerful enough to put a hole in the princess’ chest. Corona landed and thrust her spear between the horns. She jerked her haft around, twisting Cicada’s head downward. Another twist and a pull, and Cicada’s head came clean off.

The automaton’s body flew towards the rear of the bridge. The head spewed magic and fire, striking Corona’s feet with jolts of changeling power. Flashes of memories raced unbidden through Corona’s mind, of her mother lying sick, of her father crumbling beneath the Hesperus Mactans’ onslaught, of Stella falling beneath a hail of arrows. “Get out of my head!”

She kicked River’s helmet away. It zipped to the body with a magnetic pull, connecting to the neck with a click. Blades unfolded from Cicada’s forelegs and menaced her. They met Corona’s spear with a resounding clash of fire both red and green.

Acting Queen Corona jabbed and struck, but there was no part of the automaton that was vulnerable. Every piece that she chipped away flew back into place. Every vital organ had long since become dust. Even the abomination’s heart was nowhere to be found. She raised the spear horizontally to block both of Cicada’s curved blades.

River Cicada pulled down and launched a spell of hellfire. Every touch of changeling magic brought more memories to the forefront, more emotional pain to bear. She pulled back and rolled, sending River head-over-tail. Corona landed in a ready, alert stance, while her foe tumbled to the floor.

Cicada was unyielding, unaffected by the ferocity of the battle. Corona was energized by her fury, overflowing with the magic her family possessed. Even as they clashed, Corona knew that eventually she would run out of vigor. Eventually, the unfeeling machine would overpower her. She had to end it. Decisively.

Corona ran to the center of the room, leaving Luna wide open for the moment. She stood beside the control console, with its blinking lights and sparkling readouts. “River Cicada!”

The automaton froze. She tilted her head, her green eyes flashing.

Corona raised her weapon. She let her fiery power flow through the haft of the spear to its wootz head. The metal glowed, the rivers of darker material within taking on a magmalike gleam. “You are not sovereign in Felaccia!”

She plunged the spear headfirst into the console.

The Hesperus Mactans squealed and listed to the side. Fire poured from the console as wires melted within. Cicada’s scream of “No!” was garbled and stuttering. Lights turned on and off. Cannons exploded on the surface of the airship as they were overloaded.

Corona wrenched the spear from the console. She leaped into the air and threw it right at Cicada. With the help of her magic, it went into the automaton’s head, through its back, and pinned the deposed queen to the floor.

Corona rushed up to Luna as the flames on her wings died down. The princess was much too big to carry. Corona levered her forelegs beneath Luna’s shoulders and dragged her across the floor.

Cicada struggled from her place in the center of the bridge, her body melted and twisted into a mishappen heap. “You will die!”

Queen Corona furrowed her brow as she surveyed the rapidly-burning bridge. “Not on the agenda, but I could schedule you in for… never…” Her eyes lit up when she noticed the observational windows. “Yeah, not ever would work for me.”

She wrenched her spear from the floor and tossed it through the nearest window. The amber-colored material shattered instantly. The rocky shores of the Felaccian capital city approached far too quickly for Corona’s liking.

The lights in the bridge went off. Cicada rose to her feet as much as she could with her head hanging loose from her neck. The giant hole in her chest also made movement difficult. “You’ll not leave. We shall die together.”

The clatter of running footsteps hailed from the hall. Stella burst onto the bridge at the head of a strange procession. Apple Bloom, Crested, and Mellori pulled a netful of floating hearts, all shimmering with an endless variety of colors. Stella jumped onto her sister’s back and began tweeting immediately. “Corona! We were gonna pull the hearts out one by one, but the whole dang ship is going down, so we wanted to find you as fast as we could, and all the ant-bots are dead and—”

She gave the deteriorated body of Cicada a double-take. She drew her rapier and lunged at the automaton. “Have at you, mechanical demon of mayhem!”

Corona smiled, rolled her eyes, and grabbed Stella by the foreleg. “Everybody out the window! Crested, help me carry Luna!”

The hum in the ship grew quieter by the moment as the last of the magic drained from the Hesperus Mactans. Apple Bloom chugged one of her potions and passed the rest of the bottle to Corona. “Here! Make her drink this!”

The ship rocked to the side as one of its legs met the surface of the water.

Cicada limped towards them, the molten metal at the center of her chest nearly pulling her torso apart. “You can’t leave, foals! Those hearts belong to me!”

Stella jabbed the automaton’s knee, sending it crashing to the ground. Still it clawed its way towards them. “Don’t leave me! I’m the savior of the world!”

Corona massaged Luna’s neck, forcing the potion down her throat. After a moment, the magic did its work and caused her body to float. Apple Bloom rose into the air as well, and Crested grasped her foreleg to keep her from flying away.

The griffons and ponies gathered at the edge of the window with their prize of two-hundred hearts. They let out a shout of effort as they jumped from the bridge.

Cicada raised a limp hoof. “Don’t leave me here alone…”

The bridge of the Hesperus Mactans crashed into a boulder on the shore of Roc. The head of the flyder collapsed beneath the weight of the rest of the airship. The Strutter lay still, devoid of life or magic, as the surf swallowed it piece by piece.

A cheer rose from the griffon and pony soldiers around them. They battled on, harder than ever, as victory became all the more real and all the more close. The Strutters and their Painted One pilots scrambled this way and that, no longer guided by a controlling intelligence.

Apple Bloom hung upside-down, a bundle of hearts tied to her hind leg. She gasped and pointed, indicating the top of the castle. “The sun device! It’s active!”

Corona followed the Sunspear’s beam with her eyes, until it met the light of the sun and grew too bright to view. “Chamberlain Corvus, take Stella, Luna, and the hearts to the Equestrian Fleet. Crested, you and I will see to it that the sun device is deactivated.”

Apple Bloom waved a foreleg. “And me, Your Highness?”

“You seem extraordinarily scientifically inclined.” Crested Barbary held her foreleg tight as Mellori untied the hearts. “Perhaps you’ll be able to shed some light on the subject?”

“If’n you think it’ll help.” Apple Bloom flashed him a faux salute. “I’d be happy to.”

Corona held a talon towards Mellori Corvus. “May I borrow your sword? I… um… threw my spear out the window.”

Mellori drew a basket-hilt saber and passed it over. “Mm. Try to keep a hold on this one, Your Highness.”

***

Button Mash leaned against the control panel and clutched his heart. Another pulse of magic nearly sent him into unconsciousness. He’d spent the last few minutes tilting the Sunspear’s aim back and forth, never going anywhere close to Roc. Caballeron’s instructions had been that the switch to the left would unleash the sun’s power. Button filed that away on the “Do not touch ever” list.

He raised his head to see out of the room. Martial’s duel with Ahuizotl had grown bloody. Both combatants were stumbling, bleeding from multiple wounds. Ahuizotl still had the height, weight, strength and everything else advantage… but Martial was faster. Still, the Spade of Hearts grew closer and closer to his chest.

Poni hefted a rock and threw it at the amber-colored material. Hairline fractures appeared. “Just hold on a moment longer!”

Button coughed as the worst case of heartburn he’d ever experienced tore through his esophagus. He could see the fairy strings tracing their way through his chest. Every beat of his heart caused his body to pulse with pain. He looked to make sure Sweetie was still okay. Martial’s constant flurry of attacks was just enough to distract the mad god from his vengeance. She hid behind a crumpled changeling relief, one depicting Ahuizotl’s triumphant murder of the other five Bearers of the Elements.

Poni Caballeron slammed the rock against the window a second time, sweat pouring down his neck. “I’ve got you!”

The doctor held the rock between his forelegs and slammed it repeatedly into the transparent material. His strikes reached a fever pitch. Pain and desperation contorted his face into a frustrated grimace. “Just. Hold. On!”

With a final, titanic throw, he shattered the amber material. Magic escaped through the hole, blasting forth in waves. Poni leaned in, reaching for Button and ignoring the razor-sharp shards. “Grab my hoof!” Magic laced its way into the doctor’s body, just as it had soaked into Button’s. Poni’s fairy strings shimmered just beneath his tan coat. “Hurry up, Button!”

With his last ounce of strength, Button reached up. He clasped forelegs with the doctor and allowed himself to be hauled bodily out of a river of magic. The doctor and the storyteller tumbled to the ground, breathless but alive.

Button pressed his hoof against the control room and eased himself upright. Ahuizotl and Martial’s duel flashed before him, blades clashing, and magic bursting out. Martial was everywhere at once, jabbing, slicing, spinning, parrying. A swipe of Ahuizotl’s Wyrmslayer nicked his wing, sending him to the ground once more. The mad god grinned as he loomed over the griffon, ready to strike the killing blow.

Button stomped a hoof and shouted at the top of his lungs. “Ahuizotl! You forgot about me!”

Ahuizotl looked towards Button and away from Martial. Just for an instant. Just long enough for Martial to make a move. The griffon warrior flapped his wings to launch himself towards the ceiling. He drew magic to Euroclydon, slicing it in a wide arc. The sword met Ahuizotl’s tail just before he could stab the dagger into Martial’s heart.

The claw at the end of Ahuizotl’s tail flew away from the mad god and hit the wall with a sickening thud, the Spade of Hearts clutched firmly between its fingers.

Ahuizotl flinched, pain exploding from his body in the form of an unearthly animal call. He swung his sword arm backward; the pommel stone of the Wyrmslayer blade hit Martial smack in the middle of his forehead. Martial impacted the wall. The air left him in a whoosh of breath. Euroclydon clattered to the ground as he lay quiet and still.

Foam billowed around Ahuizotl’s mouth as he writhed on the ground. His yellow eyes burned daggers of hatred at Button and Caballeron.

Button Mash ran to the severed hand. He grabbed the fingers and attempted to pry them apart. The death grip seemed more than he could handle, but he needed to get the dagger. He needed to destroy the thing that had hurt so many people, and caused so much pain. He needed to stop Ahuizotl from ever using the evil, wicked thing on anyone ever again. One finger pulled away, but it wasn’t enough. The blood had already clotted. The joints had already hardened.

Poni Caballeron stood to the side, his teeth clamped firmly shut. “Button! Button, leave it!”

“No!” A second finger moved; two more to go. The gemstone pommel of the dagger glowed with contact to Button’s over-magicked hoof. “This needs to end right now!”

Sweetie Belle covered her mouth, squeaking with fear. “Button!”

Button felt the hair on his neck rise. He turned and beheld Ahuizotl standing over him with his one remaining good claw bared. The mad god laughed joylessly as he pulled his arm back. The claw raced downward, hungry for Button’s flesh.

Poni threw himself at Button and knocked him aside. The claw dug into his torso and lifted him into the air. He flew through the cracked panels of the control room, shattering them and disappearing from sight.

“Doctor!” Button’s heart broke at the sight. He picked himself up with a shout of defiance. He wrenched the Spade of Hearts from the dead hand and held it close. Ahuizotl’s claw wrapped around him, squeezing the breath from his lungs.

Ahuizotl’s laughter stunk of fish and blood. The bleeding bullet wound in his head had already nearly blinded him. He drew Button close, his teeth gnashing. “Even with all your tricks, and your friends, and your armies, you cannot hope… to defy… a god!”

Button Mash lifted his forelegs high, with the Spade of Hearts clutched tight. “A god without a prayer!”

With a cry of exertion, he plunged the dagger into Ahuizotl’s chest.

Magic tore its way out of the resulting hole. Ahuizotl’s paw released Button out of shock and pain. The mad god clawed at his chest with his one good claw, unable to see out of one eye, trying and failing to reach the Spade of Hearts. “No! Get it out! Get it ooout!”

Button pulled himself away from Ahuizotl. He looked up to see Sweetie Belle running towards him. She lit her horn and grasped something. Looking back, Button saw her telekinetic bubble wrap itself around Ahuizotl’s heart.

She cried out as her horn, weak after so long without proper medicine, struggled to wrench the source of Ahuizotl’s magic from his body. She shut her eyes, her final step ending in a stumble. Button caught her before she could hit her head against the ground. He held her tight, propping her head up with a hoof. “You got this, Sweetie!”

With a jerk of her head and a flare of her horn, Ahuizotl’s red-lined, blackened heart flew from his chest. He grasped for it, his voice high-pitched and strained. “No! Give it back! Somebody help me!”

She caught it in her hooves and immediately smashed it against the stony ground. Cracks appeared on its surface. Her breath grew short as she brought it down again. Chips fractured off. The red-glowing magic within radiated out, burning her skin at the touch. She slammed it against the cold floor again and again, each strike more furious than before. Ahuizotl lunged.

Martial thrust Euroclydon forward and released a bolt of lightning that lit up the catacombs. The power of the blast threw Ahuizotl against the Sunspear’s control room. The magic within the room weaved itself into the magic of his body. His fairy strings blazed a blindingly-hot white. He reached for Button and Sweetie, all sense of intelligence having vanished from his voice.

Martial snatched the heart from her grasp and tossed it away. He stabbed Euroclydon into the floor and covered Button and Sweetie with his wings.

Ahuizotl’s heart crumbled with a deafening crash of power. His body blew apart and burned to cinders from the force of the mountain’s magic. The Spade of Hearts clattered to the ground, its blade darkened by the ash of a shattered god.

Sweetie Belle leaned against Button, tears pouring from her eyes. Button held her gently, rubbing her back, holding in tears of his own. He looked up at Martial, who slowly, achingly folded his wings. “Is it over?”

Martial pulled Euroclydon from the ground. He slid it into its scabbard and locked it into place. He surveyed the now-empty room, spying nothing but soot and scattered stones. “Yes. He’s gone.” He sat down hard. He shut his eyes and allowed his muscles to finally relax. “Ahuizotl’s gone.”

Button smiled. He chuckled. Relief washed over him in buckets. A pressure that had been on the back of his mind vanished. The tension left his shoulders. He allowed himself to rest there, with Sweetie Belle cozied up beside him.

His heart sank. Poni. The doctor. “Wait. Where’s Caballeron?”

Martial opened one eye. He jerked his thumb towards the control room. “With any luck, he’s long gone, too.”

Button stood up. Sweetie watched him walk towards the control room, her face a frown. “Button? What are you doing?”

Button quickened his pace. He shook his head, already feeling the magic return to his fairy strings as he got closer. “I gotta help him.”

“Button!” Sweetie stumbled to her feet and chased after him. She grabbed his shoulder. “Wait! No, you don’t! It’s too dangerous.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Martial stood between Button and the controls. “You’ll be killed in minutes! The battle’s over. You can go home.”

“Caballeron saved my life.” He looked around Martial’s shoulder. He couldn’t see Poni in the room, but maybe he just wasn’t close enough. “Multiple times now. I owe it to him to see if I even can help.”

“Button, please.” Sweetie Belle turned Button Mash until he was facing her. She laid her hooves on his shoulders and looked him in the eye. Her green eyes glimmered, the most precious gemstones Button had ever seen. “I don’t want to lose you. Please don’t go, Button. Please.”

“Sweetie…” Button sighed deep within his chest. He touched a hoof to her cheek and gave her a small, sincere smile. “Please, let me go in. I need this. To do whatever I can, whatever that is.”

He leaned close, bringing his lips near her ear. He whispered, almost unheard. “Let me go.”

She took in a shuddering breath, her legs trembling. “Okay.”

Martial didn’t move. Button nudged him aside and crawled into the control room. As he entered, he heard Martial speaking with Sweetie.

“I don’t believe this,” Martial said. “How can you of all people be willing to let him risk his fool neck like this?”

Sweetie’s reply was soft, just at the edge of Button’s ears. “If you love something… set it free.”

His ears burned. His face flushed. Part of it might have been the magic pumping itself into his fairy strings. Part of it. He turned around and waved out the window. “I’ll come back. I promise.”

Before he went any further, he pressed a particular button and pulled a particular lever. High above, on the tallest tower of Castle Roc, the Sunspear released its grip on the sun.

***

Poni Caballeron gripped the wall as tight as his rapidly-numbing hooves could hold. He opened his eyes and looked down. The core of the mountain lay below him, visible through the tunnel cut into the mountain by changelings millennia ago. The magic radiating upwards strained his fairy strings to the limit. He wasn’t sure whether he’d lose his grip first, or if he would simply explode.

He had done it, though. He had tied up his loose ends. He had revealed the truth to Kiln. He had severed ties with Ahuizotl. He had finally done something good with his life and saved Button.

But his wife… he could never face her again. There was nothing worthwhile either of them could say. She was lost. As lost as he’d ever been.

“Doctor!”

Caballeron lifted his eyes upward. Button Mash appeared at the lip of the tunnel, a few meters above his head. The young stallion cupped a hoof to his mouth. “Hold on! I’ll get you out of there!”

The doctor’s heart raced. Maybe there was hope after all. Maybe he would have a chance to make amends. Maybe his life could be worth more than the baubles he stole…

Pain flashed through his torso. The wounds Ahuizotl had inflicted, the jagged fragments of amber-colored material, all bled freely. Harsh reality hit Caballeron like a cold bucket to the face. He would not live to see tomorrow. There was nothing to be done. No amount of ambrosia would change that.

Button climbed into the tunnel, slowly but surely. His hooves gripped the craggy walls cleanly. There was just enough of a bevel in the cut to keep the drop from being sheer. But it was still treacherous. One wrong step would kill the both of them.

“Turn back.” Caballeron rested his cheek against the wall. “It’s too late for me.”

“Don’t say that!” Button eased himself closer. His foreleg stretched out, nearly close enough for Caballeron to grasp. “I promised I’d help you find your heart. I’m keeping that promise!”

Button’s hind leg slipped. He clutched the wall with all his strength, shutting his eyes as his hackles rose. He took several long, steadying breaths. The fairy strings beneath his skin bulged with the magic that threatened to tear him apart.

Caballeron ran a quick calculation. Button couldn’t hold their combined weight. If Caballeron grabbed ahold, they’d both tumble into the unyielding light of the mountain. “Button. Please, listen to me. I don’t have much time.”

“You’ve got plenty of time.” Button reached again, his foreleg shaking. “Come on. Your heart has to be—”

“My heart… I lost my heart years ago, Button.” Caballeron sighed, and the breath ended in a wet cough. “When Ahuizotl tore the thing out of my chest, it was just a physical representation of what had already happened. When my son died, I lost myself. I turned to crime. I made money my only motivation.” His hoof scraped against the wall until he caught himself again. “And it killed me. Slowly but surely.”

“Your story doesn’t have to end like that!” Button shifted his legs to balance himself out. “You’ve changed your mind. It’s right there in front of your face.”

“Because of you, Button.” His entire body was numb now. He only held onto the rock through sheer willpower. “In you, I found something far rarer and more important than a hero.” He smiled at Button, even through he was sure it looked more like a grimace. “You’re a good stallion.”

Fire started on his back; his fairy strings had finally burst. “You are the stallion I’d always hoped… that my son would grow up to be.”

Poni released the wall. He ignored Button’s shout. He could barely hear it in the first place. Light filled his vision, blurring out details as he fell. A whirling geode of crystal rose up to greet him, full of warmth and comfort. Pain vanished in an instant. Stress fell away. He opened his eyes and saw a full-grown stallion reaching for him, even though he was still so far away. The stallion wept aloud.

The stallion wept for him, of all people.

There was a flash of living color, and Poni Caballeron was finally at peace.

The Rhyme

The sun shone high above Roc as the battle wound down. Andean Ursagryph blinked his eyes open as ambrosia did its good work. Poultices had been applied expertly by pony hooves. An intravenous drip fed him the nutrients he needed to live. Through a porthole, he could see his regulars, Blitzwings, and the Equestrian Royal Guard corralling the remaining Painted Ones near the shore. Hearts were being harvested as the machines touched down. Soon, many lives would be restored, even if those who allied themselves with the Painted Ones would find themselves in prison.

Andean looked to the crest of his mountain home. His eaglelike eyes spotted his eldest daughter pulling hearts from the top of the Sunspear. She unmade the great mistake he’d taken part in. Pride filled his chest, overwhelming his sense of failure. Truly, she would be a mighty queen.

“I am glad to see you well.”

Andean turned away from the window to greet his visitor. Princess Luna strode into the infirmary, an ice pack hiding away a magic syphon that had been attached to her horn. Her eyes were tired, her stance worn. She sat beside his oversized bed and gazed out across Roc. “We must speak.”

“Indeed.” Andean Ursagryph clasped his talons. “I suspect you wish to decide the Sunspear’s fate.”

“It has already been decided.” Luna frowned—not out of anger or frustration, as Andean expected—but out of deep sadness. She shook her head and showed him the syphon. “I was unable to protect the sun from this… Cicada creature. The Sunspear nearly turned my brain to mush. I went in alone and unprepared, and I paid the price. Without Corona…” She looked him right in the eye, and a tear trickled down her cheek. “Alicorns alone are not enough. The Sunspear must exist. And it must remain in the control of someone I trust.”

Andean watched the syphon draw excess power away from Luna. It shimmered with the color of her magic and eyes: A brilliant blue hue. “You have sacrificed much to come to this conclusion.”

“How so?”

“Pride is a difficult thing to deal with. I would know.” Andean gestured to the wounds left over from his duel with Ahuizotl. “It takes a strong will to admit one’s own fallibility. To defy the instinct to stand alone. To admit a better path exists…” He flexed his bandaged talon, tapping his beak. “Something I must once again admit to myself and to you.”

Luna lowered her ears. “There is magic aplenty in your mountain to run the Sunspear. But it was not designed for it.”

“Yes. And therein lies the next step I must take. Deciphering the secrets of the device.” Andean waved dismissively, yet weakly. “It will be a long process, during which I must rely solely upon you and your family.”

“No. Not solely.” Luna took a seat in the chair beside Andean’s bed. She furrowed her brow. “Celestia has long forbade the old methods to be taught. It rapidly drains whatever ponies perform the ritual. They take months or years to recover from a week of moonrises.”

She sighed, closing her eyes. She leaned back. “But I will no longer accept her decree. Alternatives must be set in place. We shall offer the lessons to the School for Gifted Unicorns. And we will delay no longer. This I promise.” She touched his shoulder with a wingtip. “It is time to no longer allow fear to hold us back.”

“Well said, my friend.” Andean returned to watching his daughter fix the mess he’d made. He breathed deep and let it go with a wheeze. “Well said…”

***

Button Mash reached up and took Martial Paw’s talon. The griffon hauled him out of the deadly pit and placed him on firm ground. They moved quickly to leave the control room and its deadly atmosphere behind. Button leaned against the griffon every step of the way, his eyes dry of tears. He was too exhausted to cry anymore.

Sweetie Belle ran up to hug him. He accepted the embrace gladly, praying for some relief to the weight on his heart. “I couldn’t save him.”

Sweetie nodded, but didn’t answer beyond that. The three of them walked in silence through the catacombs. Griffon kings of old watched wordlessly. At the top of the staircase, Martial pulled the two doors shut, closing off the radiating waves of magic.

“Wow. You guys look like garbage.”

Button raised an eyebrow. Captain Carrot trotted towards them, her armor melted in several places and her mane frayed and singed. Part of her tail was still on fire. She swatted it to extinguish the flames. “I take it Ahuizotl’s done for?”

Martial smiled. “Thanks in no small part to my fellow warriors here.”

Button Mash sat down hard and leaned against the wall. “I’m no warrior.”

“On the contrary. You have a warrior’s spirit within you.” Martial Paw removed the battered riot armor still sitting on his chest. “You merely… utilize it for things other than bloodshed. I believe that to be a rather admirable thing.”

He gave the scrap metal a kick. It slid across the hallway to clatter against the far wall. “Perhaps I could learn a thing or two from you.”

He bowed at the neck to Sweetie Belle. “To say nothing of you. Without you, I would have been cleaved in twain several times over. Thank you.”

Care smirked. “So you do admit to being brash, headstrong, foolhardy, and irresponsible?”

“I learned it from watching Daring Do.” He chuckled and smoothed down the feathers poking out at odd angles on his head. “And I suspect you picked something up from her as well?”

“I’d never broken a law before I met Daring.” Care pointed her horn at the airship moored a few meters away. “Come on, guys. We gotta get to the top of the castle. Got some people who really wanna see you.”

Button and Sweetie climbed aboard and rested against the chest at the rear of the vessel. They sat shoulder-to-shoulder, watching the world roll by. Griffon regulars could be seen gathering wrecked Strutters and pieces of the castle. The Equestrian fleet closed in on the port near the base of the mountain. The flagship’s bridge was filled to the brim with glowing, living hearts, all ready to return to their owners.

They touched down, and Sweetie and Button disembarked. Sweetie covered her mouth as a familiar voice drawled in the near distance. “Apple Bloom!”

Apple Bloom lifted her head away from a complex mechanism at the bottom of the Sunspear. Her mouth broke into perhaps the biggest smile Button had ever seen. “Sweetie!”

The two old friends ran into each other’s embrace. Apple Bloom picked Sweetie up and swung her around. Laughter echoed across Roc, delighting the ears of those who heard it.

Apple Bloom moved them closer to Button. “C’mere, you!” She reached out a foreleg and squeezed him tight as well. “Y’all thought I forgot about you? Heck naw! Y’all’re the heroes of the hour!”

Button felt something in his back crack into place. He let out a yelp, but smiled all the same. “Great to see you, too, Bloom.”

The strong mare set them down, keeping her forelegs on their shoulders. “Now don’tcha worry ’bout a thing! Scootaloo and Rumble ’re waitin’ for us back in Canterlot, and Spike’s on the mend. We all made it through to the other side.”

Button rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “Not… quite all of us.” He looked up to Apple Bloom and gritted his teeth. “We can’t forget the ones who gave everything to get us this far. Daring… and Caballeron… and…” He waved a hoof across Roc. “So many others.”

Sweetie Belle hugged him from behind. She rested her cheek on the back of his head. “We won’t Button. We could never forget. But we also can’t forget those who are with us now. And right now… it’s okay to be happy about that.”

Button looked at Sweetie, a blush touching his cheeks. He turned to Apple Bloom, who smiled and shrugged. “You’re right, Sweetie,” he said. “Of course you are. I am glad, Apple Bloom. Thank you.”

The three of them stood at the edge of the parapet, as the setting sun cast an orange glow over all. Button shifted around so that he could sling a foreleg over Sweetie’s shoulders. “Thank you all for bringing us this far.”

***

Martial Paw unbuckled Euroclydon from his belt. He hefted the sword. He knew he’d miss its weight at his side. It was such a perfect fit, but it was not his to keep.

Care Carrot leaned against the helm of the Vanishing Point and watched the three friends reunite in the sunset. “I never thought I’d see somebody mourn Caballeron.”

“Button Mash is a special sort of person.” Martial walked to the center of the deck and waved at an approaching winged figure. “His generosity truly knows no bounds.”

“Hmm.” Care brushed at a burnt patch on her coat. The hairs crumbled to dust beneath her touch. “Being that open could get him hurt real easily.”

“And it has.” Martial gave her a smile. “But I cannot argue with the results.”

“Well, there is that.” Care gave the unconnected ship’s wheel a spin. “You’re pretty relaxed now that you’re no longer, ‘Martial Paw, Avenger of Blood.’ How’s it feel?”

“Liberating, really.” The figure was close enough to be identified; Corona Ursagryph, with Stella and two others by her side. “I feel that justice was done.”

Care bobbed her head, wrapping her mane in a loose ponytail. “Even though you weren’t the one to slice his head off?”

“I certainly helped.”

“You know what I mean.”

Martial twisted the scabbard in his talons. He ran his eyes across the intricate carvings of storm clouds and lightning. “My obsession with revenge pulled me away from what truly mattered. Before, it pulled me away from my family, my country, and my identity. This time, it nearly tore down everything I had built up since then.” He blew a deep breath through his beak, spreading his wings as he eyed Care. “It took Button, my uncle, and… and Blankety to show me that.”

Corona landed aboard the Vanishing Point, Stella soon after her. The elder princess walked up to him, uncertainty sprawled across her face. “Cousin Martial?”

Something caught in Martial’s throat. It took all the strength he had to speak. “Cousin Corona. It’s been…”

“A long time.” Corona paused a meter away, but soon closed the distance in a strong hug.

“Six years,” he rasped. He brushed the red feathers of her crest as the years flooded back to him. “My Creator. Stella was still a baby.”

Stella rubbed her talons together, fluffing her silvery neck feathers. “Not really a baby, just… little…”

Martial looked beyond the princesses to see Crested Barbary, Captain of the Guard, standing by. Chamberlain Mellori Corvus scowled from his place on the prow, keeping silent watch. Crested followed Martial’s eyes to the crow-faced griffon. “Don’t worry about him. I’m keeping him on a short leash.”

Care tilted her head and squinted. “What’s his beef?”

Martial sighed and released Corona. He looked at Mellori with a heavy heart. “The griffon I killed was his father.”

The chamberlain drummed his talons against the ship’s rail. “I am here to settle old scores, Martial Paw. Just as soon as you settle yours.”

“I suppose I saw this coming.” Martial laughed lightly; sadly. He held Euroclydon towards Corona and bowed. “Your father lent this to me, but he would want you to have it while he recovers.”

Corona sniffed and wiped her eye with a wingtip. She took the scabbard carefully and attatched it to her belt. As she did so, the sword reshaped itself to fit her size. “The burden suits itself to the bearer.”

“So I’ve heard.” Martial walked slowly towards Mellori, his chest out and his head high. “What do you have for me?”

“I challenge you to a duel.” Mellori Corvus stepped down from the prow and stalked towards Martial. They met at the middle of the ship, close enough to feel each other’s breath. “For returning to Felaccia despite your banishment. For slaying my father unjustly. It shall not be to first blood, but to the death.”

Martial held his beak closed with a talon. He shrugged his left wing. “I’m sorry, but I must decline your challenge.”

“Mm?”

“I am an Equestrian citizen.” Martial sat down and spread his forelegs. “The law expressly prohibits duels to the death. Isn’t that right, Captain?”

“Uh…” Care blinked. She sauntered up to Mellori with what appeared on the surface to be a completely guileless grin. “Yeah. I mean, magic duels are a thing, but they’re more a spectacle for the crowds than anything. Gotta be non-lethal. Definitely, definitely non-lethal. Definitely.”

Mellori glared at Care as though he smelled something decaying. He snapped his beak. “Very well. To first blood, then.”

Martial rubbed his beak, then nodded. “I accept. Shall we begin?”

Mellori furrowed his brow. “Now?”

“I don’t see why not.” Martial spread his talons, pointing to those nearby. “We have witnesses, a trained medic on hand, you have your saber… we’re set.”

Corvus drew his weapon, but hesitated. “You’re unarmed.”

“A griffon is never unarmed.” Martial flicked his talons and snapped his beak. He lowered himself into a ready stance, poised to pounce. “Ready?”

Mellori struck with a downward cut. Rather than jump forward, Martial twisted to the side. The blade grazed his flank, drawing a thin line of blood atop the scabs and bruises already there.

“First blood has been spilt!” Care raised a hoof, snatching Mellori’s off talon and holding it in the air. “Mellori Covus is the victor!”

The chamberlain pulled his talon away from her. He shoved his saber back into its scabbard and turned away. “If I had known you would make a mockery of me, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

“Mellori.” Martial raised a talon. “Wait.”

Mellori Corvus glared over his shoulder. He ruffled his feathers and spread his black wings. “What?”

“What I did to you was unacceptable. I did not deserve to even fight back.” Martial allowed himself to be hugged from the side by Corona. “This is the only thing I can do to ever repay you. To give you back your honor. I will not ask you to accept it, only to understand that you are in the right.”

“Mm. Then I will not accept it.” Mellori Corvus sneered at him and readied his wings for flight. “You shall return to your magical land of ponies, I shall return to my royal duties, and neither of us will have changed.”

Mellori flew away to take part in the rebuilding of the castle.

“Neither of you have changed, hmm?” Crested Barbary allowed a faint smile to touch the edge of his beak. “If he only knew.”

Stella produced a cloth and pressed it against Martial’s new wound. She narrowed her eyes in concentration. “I don’t like duels. It always feels like it’s just an opportunity for bullies to beat each other up.”

Corona ruffled her younger sister’s crest. She examined the Vanishing Point, a mess of scorched wood and impact craters. “You’re going home soon, aren’t you?”

“As soon as possible.” Martial went to the helm of the craft and made preparations to take off. “As soon as the fleet leaves, I’m going, too. I don’t imagine the lords would allow me to stay much longer.”

Stella grasped his talon, interrupting his work. “You can’t even see the family? Uncle Atlas is always talking about how much he misses you and—”

“This is my punishment, Stella.” Martial gave her a squeeze before he let go. According to his survey, the envelope would require repair, but there was enough to get them to a barge. “This is the consequence of my actions. It’s justice.”

He smiled and touched the bottom of her beak. “Chin up. Next time you guys visit Equestria, I’ll make sure to be in the neighborhood. Is that okay?”

“Of course.” Stella blinked away tears. “How could it not?”

Martial walked to the side of his vessel. He called out to the ponies below. “Button! Sweetie! Um—” He snapped his talons a couple of times.

“Name’s Apple Bloom, mister!”

“Apple Bloom! We’re headed out!” He connected the helm to the pully system within the ship. The Vanishing Point rose into the air as he gave the motor some juice. “With your highnesses’ permission?”

Stella and Corona both bowed. The younger sister wrapped her talons around her beak. “I hope we get to see you again soon.”

“You will, Stella.” Martial spun the wheel, and the ship was on the move. “Count on it.”

***

Flurry Heart sat in her room in Twilight’s castle. They had all moved to Ponyville after the invasion. To get some peace. To surround themselves with comfortable familiarity. But Flurry couldn’t sleep. She feared nightmares. Maybe Nightmares as well. Who knew what was watching her, now that she’d revealed such power. Now that she’d used that power to slay a pony.

She killed someone.

She replayed the scene again and again. There was no other way to end the fight. She knew it in her heart of hearts. But still…

It was horrible.

A knock sounded from her door. She sat up with a start. She wrapped her blanket and wings tighter around herself. “Who is it?”

“It’s Auntie Celestia, honey.” The voice was warm, gentle, soothing. “May I come in?”

Flurry pulled her blankety over her head as a hood. “Yeah.”

Celestia opened the door slightly ponderously with a hoof. Her horn was going to be out of commission for a while, after that fight. She shuffled over to the bed and took a seat beside Flurry. A wing extended and pulled the filly closer. Flurry welcomed the comfort.

“I have to thank you, Flurry Heart, for saving my life. And the lives of those with us. Your sister, my guards, and my servants.” Celestia winced, like she had received a slap to the face. “We would all be dead, had you not defeated the Painted One.”

Flurry leaned against Celestia, her ears low and her wings shivering.

“I feel like tonight’s events have been something of a revelation to you.” Celestia swallowed hard. “You have incredible power within you. And you are frightened of it.”

“Yeah.” Flurry didn’t know what else to say. She’d always known that one day she might be able to raise the sun, but so soon? Not a chance.

“This is a realization all alicorns must have.” Celestia pressed her lips together. She brought her head closer to Flurry and lowered her voice. “I had my realization very young. Not much older than you. Luna was in danger, and in order to save her… I used the power of the sun for the first time. The memory haunts me to this day. As does every time I used the sun as a weapon. It… it was not made to be abused like that.”

She touched Flurry’s cheek. “It is important to understand exactly how much power you have. That way you can use it more wisely. More certainly. Otherwise, many people could get hurt.”

Celestia knelt before the scared little filly, looking at her with the calm, controlled expression she had practiced for a thousand years. “That is why I am asking you… will you be my personal student, Flurry?”

The High Princess of Equestria kept herself at eye-level with Flurry, speaking warm, soft words. “I will teach you how to use your magic. All of it. You will want for nothing when it comes to knowledge. I will guide you, like I guided your mother and Twilight Sparkle. You will still attend the School for Gifted Unicorns, but with my private tutelage. Would that be acceptable, Flurry Heart?”

Flurry pulled the blanket away from her head and draped it across her shoulders. “You would teach me how to control my magic?”

“Absolutely.”

“And I’d still be able to go to school with my friends?”

“Every day.”

Flurry leaned forward. “You’d be able to keep me from hurting anybody?”

Celestia smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I will teach you how to do exactly that. You can do so much good with your power, Flurry. I want you to be able to use that power without fear.”

She lowered her eyes. Furrows appeared on her forehead. “It will not be easy. You can ask your Aunt Twilight just how difficult the training was for her. But I know you can do it. I believe in you.”

Flurry spread her wings. She stood up on the bed and held her head high, even though she still wanted to cry. “I’ll do it, Auntie Celestia. Teach me how to be a good alicorn. Please.”

Celestia scooped the little girl up and held her tight to her chest. “I will, Flurry. I promise I will.”

***

Sweetie Belle stepped out from the lower decks of the flagship of the Equestrian Navy, Buttercup’s Folly. She adjusted her frameless glasses, but they just didn’t sit right on her nose anymore. The left lens was cracked as well. She was going to need a whole new set once they got back to Ponyville.

It helped to focus on meaningless, minute details. It helped her cope with the fact that her voice had the power to sway souls to her will. Every time she sang, no matter the cause or purpose. Her career as a singer, her pathway to stardom… all predicated by that inborn ability she had little control over.

It was the very genesis of her cutie mark. She had long ago felt her own heart connect with others as she sang, and longed to replicate it. Now, knowing what was truly at stake? Knowing exactly what sort of powers were at work? How could she continue to sing?

What a talent to have.

Glasses. Right. The other lens was chipped on the surface. A couple of chips in fact, accompanied by dozens of scratches all across the glass. And one of the screws was loose. And the nosepiece was bent at an odd angle…

Sweetie wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and stepped into the cool sea air. Perhaps she would need to focus exclusively on her clothes designing business? But what if people accused her of controlling people to buy her wares? What if life itself would become impossible to live? If she could not make a living for fear of using mind-altering magic, how could she work at all?

What a freaking talent to have.

The boat rocked gently in the waves, a breeze sending spray across the air. Sweetie muttered gibberish as the water droplets coated her lenses and made seeing difficult. She wiped the glasses against her chest, their fragility no longer a real concern.

When she put the fogged-up glasses back on her face, she spied Button Mash leaning against the railing, staring into the vast endlessness of the ocean. He hadn’t had the chance to trim his beard in several days, as could be seen from the patchy hair dotting his face. The poor guy just wasn’t in a position to grow a full one. He scratched his spikey mane, a sigh escaping his chest.

Her heart practically leaped at the thought of a more present distraction. She walked up to the rail and took a seat beside him. “Hi.”

“Hi, Sweetie.” His voice was low and hoarse. His brown eyes found her. For just a moment, she felt maybe everything would turn out. The feeling passed. “How’re you doing?”

“Good question.” Sweetie leaned her cheek on her crossed forelegs. “I’m not sure. I’m happy to be alive.”

“Aren’t we all?” Button didn’t sound convinced of his own words. As such, he wasn’t all that convincing. “It’ll be real great to get back home, doing what we always did. Living more peaceful lives, hopefully.”

“Yeah.” Sweetie stared at the water beneath her. Her reflection was quickly swallowed up by the next greenish-blue wave. “Nothing to worry about there. Nothing at all.”

Button frowned. He placed his forelegs on the deck and rested on his haunches. “What’s up? Got something rough waiting for you?”

“I’m just not sure how to move forward.” She touched her neck. “With this whole ‘mind-controlling voice’ thing.”

Button winced and rubbed his face. “I’m sorry.”

“But what about you?” Sweetie brushed the topic aside as fast as she possibly could, sweeping the topic away with a brush of her hoof. “You get to go back to the puppet shows. What’s your next one? Are you gonna write the music again, or are you gonna use an old script—?”

“I don’t know, Sweetie.” His hooves hit the deck with a weak click. “Knowing what I know? I don’t know.”

He stood up and paced back and forth, skewing his angle to avoid tripping over a bundle of rope. “I saw River threaten to burn an entire city to cinders. I cared about River, you know? I know it sounds silly to care about a clearly fictional character. But I cared about what she did, and what she stood for. She inspired me.” He gave the railing a kick. The wood responded with a wet thud. “Maybe it’s a good thing I lost her puppet. It’s not even accurate to her actual species.”

His ears perked up. He pointed at her as his voice gained some modicum of strength. “You know who’s been working on voices? Twilight Sparkle. She has that necklace she always wears after the assassination attempt, right? Maybe she can make something for you?”

Sweetie Belle took a moment to process the conversational shift. She scrunched her muzzle and pushed her glasses further up her nose. “The siren gems?”

“Is that what she calls them? Weird, but okay.”

“Kinda, but—” Sweetie gave him a lopsided grin that was only slightly feigned. “They’re to give hypnotic powers, not take them away.”

“But Princess Twilight’s real smart about this stuff.” Button plopped himself down in front of Sweetie, some light returning to his smile. “If I know anything about enchanted gems, it probably only needs a little re-pathing for the spell to end up completely different. And there you go. No more moral quandaries.”

Sweetie folded her ears back, lidding her eyes. “None whatsoever, huh?”

“Well, less.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “A couple quandaries less.”

She rubbed her foreleg, swishing her tail back and forth. “It’s worth a shot. Just… I hate that I was just born with mind-altering magic.” She narrowed her eyes at him, tilting her nose up. “Speaking of that, why aren’t you affected by it?”

“No clue. Maybe, uh…” Button tapped a hind leg as he thought. “Maybe it has something to do with my weak magic? Nothing for your magic to influence?”

“Is that even possible?”

“Heck if I know.” Button reached for her foreleg and tugged her to her feet. “Hay, you wanna head to the mess hall, get some lunch?”

“Not much else to do aboard the ship.” She bobbed her head and walked by his side. “Sure. Let’s.”

Two bowlfuls of skilly ’n’ duff, two seats at a long table. Button and Sweetie sat across from each other, scooping spoonfuls of the porridge and pudding into their mouths. It probably wasn’t quite to Sweetie’s taste—ironically, a bit too sweet—but she wasn’t going to complain about a hot meal after the last couple of weeks. Fresh fruit was the prime ingredient of the dumpling-like pudding, and the whole thing sat in a sugary sauce.

Button, for his part, leaned on his hoof and chewed absently, his eyes crossing as he stared into space.

Sweetie pushed her food around in her bowl. She scooped up a slice, then let it drop back in. “Last time we ate together like this was our date.”

Button closed his eyes and shook his head to refocus himself. He laughed lightly, briefly. “That… feels like forever ago.”

“A lifetime and a half.” Sweetie smiled, poking at a particularly large slice of apple. “It was fun, though.”

“Yeah. It was.” Button took a bite, then nudged his bowl aside. “It was just after my show.” He clicked his tongue. “I thought I was gonna have time to get ready before dinner.”

“I didn’t know it was your show, at first.” Sweetie waved a hoof. “I was just taking a walk around town to cool my nerves.”

Button stretched his lips to the side and cocked a brow. “About what?”

“About lots of things. Silly stuff.” She tapped her spoon against her bowl, then stopped when she noticed people around them getting annoyed. “I got offered a gig in another city. I had a date with you I wasn’t prepared for. I was still trying to figure out plans for the winter line—”

“Winter line? It’s still summer.”

“Clothes designing doesn’t happen in a day.” She waved the spoon in his face in a vaguely menacing manner. “And things just jumbled up all together on that day. And that’s before being horribly kidnapped by three comic book bad guys.”

Button’s face drooped. He subconsciously touched the scar on his chest, the one that had been left by Caballeron’s spur. The very same one he’d received defending her and Scootaloo that night. For a moment, Sweetie Belle saw him bleeding out on the floor again, pale and dying. She reached across the table and touched his hoof.

He looked up at her, offering a tiny smile with a microscopic half-life. Tears threatened to spill out of his big, brown eyes as breathing became difficult.

“Your story that night was River’s,” she said quietly. “You said there was truth to it. What’s the truth behind River’s story? What’s the rhythm and rhyme?”

He raised his eyebrows. He took his free foreleg and ran it across his eyes to soak up the dampness. “There’s always someone ready to stand beside you, if you look hard enough.”

She rubbed his hoof, bringing his eyes to her once more. “And what’s the truth of your story?”

Button took in a shaky breath. He gave her a nod, solid yet shallow. He met her eye-to-eye and leaned forward. “If I learned one thing from Poni, it’s this… Y-you can change your world. It’s not too late to change it for the better.”

Sweetie smiled, full and bright. Her heart beat at a strong, steady rhythm. She reached across with her other hoof so that she was touching both of his forelegs. “So? Are we ready to change our worlds?”

“Yeah.” He furrowed his brow and tilted his head to the side. “I think I’ve got an idea how.”

***

Merry Mare rode in the back of a black carriage. Carvings of monsters and twisted horrors coated the outside of the vehicle; many of them likenesses of the Unseelie Court of Fae that she had come to be associated with. It was pulled by two strong, masked stallions, whose identity had long been erased. Whose will had long ago been twisted to one purpose.

Across from her, living in a dazed stupor, sat Kiln. He had led her this far into the jungle, and it would only be a few more minutes before they reached their destination. Poni’s heart had not been anywhere Kiln and the rest had looked. It was not on Ahuizotl’s person. It was not in his Strutters. It was not in his mines. There was truly only one last possible place the mad god could have kept it.

His home.

Merry wished she knew more about the conflict in Felaccia. At the moment, all they were sure of was that Ahuizotl was dead, his forces crushed in the battle. His separate attack on the Canterlot Castle had also failed. He had stretched himself too thin, and had finally payed the price. After thousands of years, he was no longer an issue.

The jungle brushed by outside. It was quiet all around them; the creatures knew not to interfere with the affairs of the Fae.

Beside her sat the youngest of the three Sirens, the one known to most as the Maiden. The young mare gazed into the passing greenery with sharp eyes. She adjusted her silver-lensed glasses and glowered at Merry. “Need I remind the Mother that we don’t want unnecessary carnage tonight?”

“You don’t have to remind me of anything.” Merry pulled her hood low over her face. She clutched the yellow gemstone necklace to feel the familiar, calming power coursing within. “I’ll keep a cool head. You focus on your objective.”

“A silver tongue for the huddled masses.” The Maiden smirked. She brushed her braid over one shoulder. “This will be a good day for the Unseelie Court. A little pick-me-up after… time and time again falling victim to its own hubris.”

Merry grumbled. Kiln might have focused on her, but the moment faded away as his clouded mind reasserted itself. “I highly doubt the Court will consider this a victory. Surely you’ve noticed how little they consider their mortal soldiers.”

“Let them think what they want.” The Maiden leaned against the door, cupping her chin with a hoof. “If they were capable of felling Equestria without us, they’d have done so centuries ago.”

“They did.” Merry crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Celestia rebuilt.”

“So it’s up to us to salt the fields.” The Maiden grinned, her white teeth standing out amid the darkness of the carriage. “It’s up to us to be the rebuilders.”

The carriage stopped. The door opened, and a nameless, faceless stallion ushered the three of them out of the carriage. Merry crested the hill, rounded a tree, and found herself above a small village of thatched huts. Before long, she was surrounded by spear points aimed dangerously at her neck and chest.

These spears were held by Painted Ones, their magic dyes glowing with energy. One of them spoke up. “Why do you come to the home of the Painted Ones?”

“My friends,” the Maiden said, lowering her hood. “I am afraid I bring you sorrowful tidings from Felaccia.”

In the village, ponies poked their heads out of doors. Stallions and mares, young and old, warriors and children. Each wore at least some sort of magical paint, the children wearing the smallest quantities. An older stallion walked from his hut, robes draped around his body. His milky eyes gazed up at Merry and the Maiden dispassionately. He indicated Kiln with a wave of his hoof. “Why have you brought Caballeron’s second?”

“He was our guide. He was our only way to find you to…” The Maiden took in a deep breath and let it out with a sorrowful sigh. “To deliver Ahuizotl’s final message.”

The uproar was instantaneous. Disbelief mingled with outrage and fear. As the voices rose, the Maiden kept silent, allowing the moment to snowball without her direct control. She waited patiently for her chance to continue.

The elder raised a hoof, and the crowd died down. “I am Atrox, father of High Priest Confuto. If something were to happen to Ahuizotl, my son would return to tell us himself.”

“Your son lies crushed beneath his own Strutter,” the Maiden said. “Slain in a fit of rage by Princess Mi Amore Cadenza. His predecessor lies in pieces in the Canterlot Castle lawn, thrown from a great height by Shining Amor.” She placed a hoof on her chest and bowed her head. “Ahuizotl sacrificed himself in a pitched battle with Andean Ursagryph, when the latter refused to allow him to protect the sun from the alicorns. The Painted Ones who were not slain during the battle will soon be imprisoned in the highest security prison Equestria can offer.” She looked to each of the Painted Ones in view, giving each a moment to see her sincerity. “If you do not believe me, then see for yourself. Any news outlet from Equestria to Felaccia will tell the tale true enough of the fall of the God of the Sun.”

The blue gemstone around the Maiden’s neck shimmered. Merry scowled. The young siren was already utilizing her hypnotizing voice. Already twisting the minds of the crowd to her will. She supposed it was the only way to sway the Painted Ones, whose entire lives and belief system hinged on fighting the Unseelie Court.

“Ahuizotl did not leave you alone!” The Maiden strode forward, past the spears and guards. The people of the village gathered to her, their ears perked and their eyes attentive. “He requested that we, the Sirens, continue his quest where he could not! The sun has been the sole possession of the alicorns for far too long!”

She pointed to Atrox, who took a step back. “The same alicorns who killed your son in cold blood! The same alicorns who could torch any point of the world and receive no consequences! They have nothing to keep them in check! They have nothing to hold them accountable!”

Merry and Kiln walked unimpeded towards Atrox’s hut. The two carriage driver followed close behind, their muscles ready to tear into the Painted Ones should the need arise. But they had no protection from the power of the Sirens. Their minds were putty in their hooves. She entered the building and immediately began tearing the elder’s home apart. Any sign of magic, any source of power, any indication that her husband’s heart could be there, she sought it all. She ripped apart his bed. Emptied all his containers. Spilled his food on the ground. Each moment she grew more frantic.

“Ahuizotl’s message was for you to carry on, Painted Ones!” The Maiden’s voice grew more melodic, more powerful. It rang with a song just at the edge of perception, echoing through the heads and hearts of Ahuizotl’s tribe. “The alicorns cannot stop you! The alicorns cannot contain you! Follow us, and the power of the sun shall at last be yours! Follow us, and find your true purpose in life!”

“Merry,” Kiln spoke at last, all but a mumble. He pointed to the center of the single-room home, at the dirt floor. “There’s somethin’ there.”

The dirt had been disturbed. It was not nearly as packed as the rest of the home’s flooring. Merry dug with both forelegs, ripping dirt aside with no visible effort. A box was soon uncovered. Her breath short, Merry pulled the box from the hole. She held it close, but no feeling of magic came. No sense of life. “This can’t be it. It can’t.”

“That has tae be the box,” Kiln muttered, his eyes half-closed. “That has tae be what we was searchin’ for.”

Merry gritted her teeth. She grasped the top of the wooden box with a hoof. The lock proved to be useless in keeping her from tearing the lid clean off. She threw it aside and gazed into the purple fabric that lined the inside.

Half a crystalline heart lay alone in the box, its magic glow having been completely replaced by a matte black coloring. She reached in to pull the half heart out, but it crumbled to dust at her touch. She stared at the box for a long, long moment.

The Maiden bowed her head to Atrox. “So, Elder of the Sun God, what say you? Will you join the Sirens in their conquest of Equestria?”

Atrox sneered. “We will not become subservient to the Fae, Unseelie or Seelie! We are Ahuziotl’s children! Let the earth tremble!” He stomped his hoof. No response came. He glanced around, his rage growing deeper. “Let the earth tremble!”

“The whole point of my speech,” the Maiden said, “was that the Fae are not your enemy, nor Ahuizotl’s. They want the same thing he did: To free the sun from the tyrannical grip of the alicorns. They are the ones who abused its power. They are the ones who keep it from your rightful grasp.”

“Throw these insignificant ants from our village!” Atrox shoved a muscular Painted One, who seemed more confused than anything. “Let the earth tremble!”

Atrox’s hut exploded with a burst of magical rage. A scream the likes of which had never been heard in all the jungle ripped into the heads of those present. The nameless stallions who accompanied the Sirens fell dead, blood draining from their ears. Merry stumbled out of the wreckage, covered in dust and blood. Her eyes blazed with magic and fury as she limped towards Atrox. “If you will not grasp for the sun, you shall die in the shadows!”

The Maiden rolled her eyes and walked outside the blast radius. The Painted Ones held in her sway followed her, some few remaining beside Atrox.

The Painted One elder stood his ground before Merry. Spears appeared on either side of him, wielded by his most trusted warriors. “How dare you invade our—”

“You were supposed to keep him safe!” Merry screamed. “You were supposed to keep him alive!”

The spears leaped into midair and turned to point at their former wielders. Merry’s magic caused the spears to shatter, spraying the crowd with shivers of wood. Atrox’s Painted Ones rose into the air on currents of power. Their airways were restricted. Their hearts were compressed from every side. They fell, one by one, without a sound.

She punched him in the middle of his chest. He flew back a meter or so. She grasped his collar and forced him back to his feet. A trail of blood trickled from his lip.

“You took him away from me!” She shook him with all her strength. Spittle sprayed in his face as she raged. “You took away everything that I loved!”

She grasped him by the neck and whipped him into the nearest tree, which was several yards away. She shuddered as she turned to face the crowd, who watched her with abject fear.

The Maiden stepped between her and the Painted Ones, her head held high and her voice lined with honey. “So fall all those who would twist the words of Ahuizotl to suit their whims.” She stretched a hoof to them, a tender smile on her face. “Come, you have seen our power. Would you join your strength to that of the Sirens?” She lowered an ear as she peered at Merry. “Or will you seek… alternatives?”

Merry wiped sweat from her face as she staggered away from the crowd. She didn’t care what the Maiden said next, with her silver tongue spoon-feeding lies to her prey. The Painted Ones were plenty, and would replenish the ranks of the Siren’s Mortal Corps. That was settled. That was sorted.

But Poni was dead. Like her son was dead. Like her hopes and dreams were long dead.

Her only wish was that the Lord of the Unseelie Court would keep his promise and help her finally resurrect her family. And that possibility grew weaker as the days grew longer.

The rubble of the Painted One’s hut shifted, and a stallion groaned beneath. Merry lifted the thatch off the pony. She scowled at Kiln, who lay bruised and bloodied after her outburst. “You, too, were supposed to keep him safe.”

“Poni…” Kiln’s voice was weak. He cradled his own head, curling in on himself. “I’m sorry…”

“He can’t heard your apology,” Merry hissed. She stepped on his neck and prepared to lean in. “And neither can I.”

“Help Ember…” Kiln coughed as his eyes blinked open. His senses had returned to him, the magic of the Sirens wearing off. “Please… protect my daughter.”

Merry Mare paused. Her ears rose from their aggressive bent position. She hesitated in her movements to end his life.

“She’s all I have left.” Kiln coughed, tears collecting at the edges of his eyes. “Please, dinnae hurt her.”

Merry turned aside. She steadied herself with a calming breath. The Maiden continued to sweet-talk the Painted Ones in her own enchanting way. Merry flicked her tail. “You are… and always were… Poni’s best friend. I suppose that counts for something, doesn’t it?”

Kiln tried to sit up, but failed. “I’m sorry, Merry—”

“Shut up.” Merry’s necklace glowed. She lifted the hefty stallion into the air and dragged him along behind her. “Don’t say a word.”

She carried him to the carriage and stuffed him inside. “When we’re finished,” she said, “you won’t remember any of this.”

Merry returned to the hill overlooking the village. She saw the Maiden singing to the Painted Ones, swaying them completely with her Siren’s spell. Merry’s rough estimate was that there were three-to-four hundred of the Painted Ones, children included. The youngest were foundlings pulled from the streets and given a home. The eldest were those who had been so thoroughly indoctrinated on Ahuizotl’s godhood that they were unconvinced of his demise. But the Siren’s Song had a way of convincing ponies of anything.

“They have labeled us insane
But these alicorns are to blame
Toss aside these weak reservations
It’s a battle for preservation

“We are
Rising with the sun!”

The Painted Ones sat as one, their inhibitions falling away. The Maiden walked among them, caressing their cheek, or brushing their mane. They welcomed the contact as if it came from their own mother.

“The Siren’s melody washes
Away your worry
The abusers can’t see beyond Ponyville

“Together we can take possession
And bend it to our will
Our holiest of creeds fulfilled!”

The Maiden’s eyes flashed green, and her audience’s shimmered to match. She leaped atop a rock and led them like a choir. They sang along with a song they’d never heard the words to, so powerful was her control over them. Snakes of the Magic of the Sirens slithered through the village, passing through ears on their way to the listeners’ heart.

“Gather in and lead the charge
You painted ponies are living large
The Siren’s power will sway a nation
Don’t withhold your adoration

“We are
Rising with the sun!”

***

Kiln lay on his cell’s cot within the Canterlot Penitentiary, located at the base of Canter Mountain, far from Canterlot or Ponyville. Turning himself in was the best decision he’d ever made in his life. At least… since Amber Waves died. He’d be safe in here. Far from Merry Mare. Far from the remaining Painted Ones. Far from that sociopath Rhombus. Hopefully, none of those would consider his existence now that Poni was gone.

He didn’t know how to feel about that. On one hoof, Poni was a scumbag who hid the truth about his wife all these years. And yet… he did so to prevent Kiln from falling to Merry’s power as well. Perhaps Poni’s final act as his friend was to turn him away from that life once and for all.

Perhaps lying, then cutting ties, was the only way to keep him alive.

“Kiln Stovepipe?” A guardspony knocked on the bars of his cell. “You have a visitor. A young mare named Ember.”

Kiln opened his eyes. He sat up in his cot. He stared at the guard for several seconds, unsure of what to say. “Ye must be mistaken. She disnae know I’m here.”

“The evidence says otherwise.” The guard unlocked Kiln’s cell and beckoned him forward. “You wanna talk to her, or not?”

“I… that is…” Kiln nodded and allowed the guard to chain his legs together. He shuffled alongside the guard as they were accompanied by a second, third, and fourth. Just enough ponies to take him down, should he fight back. He had no intention of doing so. He was where he belonged.

The mare waiting for him was a unicorn, around twenty years of age, give or take. He was loath to admit that he had lost track in the years they’d been apart. Her coat was orange, and her mane a brilliant yellow. Freckles dotted her cheeks. Her curls were as unruly as her mother’s mane had been wavy. She got that from her father, he supposed. If he allowed his smartly-trimmed mane to grow, it would become a right mess of red spirals.

“I was surprised to find out ye were here.” Her voice was new to him, but still retained a hint of the young girl he once knew. “I thought ye’d retire in some Giraffrican country, nae in a dingy cell.”

“I was surprised ye could find me.” Kiln took his seat and stared at his daughter. He lowered his ears and his head. He felt so unworthy. He’d abandoned her to go on Poni’s quests. He’d left her in the care of cousins, and barely that. “I didnae tell anypony… anything.”

“Mum’s old friend Merry Mare knew. She’s the one what told me.” Ember frowned deeply, her eyebrows low. “Uncle Skyquake told me I shouldnae come. But I did, so here I am.”

Of all the questions he wanted to ask her, the only one that seemed appropriate was “Why?”

“I was interested about where I came from. Like anypony would be, ye ken.” Ember crossed her forelegs. “I wanted tae see what sorta pony me father was.”

“Aye, naught but a midden and nae mistake.” Kiln slumped in his seat. The glass partition between them fogged with his next breath. “I shoulda ne’er left ye.”

“That’s the truth.” Ember raised an eyebrow. “Why did ye?”

“When yer mum—” Committed suicide? Was murdered? Neither the truth nor a lie seemed appropriate. “—passed… life couldnae go on as it used tae. Too many things changed; most of all, me. Poni seemed to offer a way out. So I took it. And I left all I had behind, including ye.” He blinked, tears dripping down his cheeks. “I was so wrong. I was terrible wrong.”

Ember watched him cry for a time, silent and thoughtful. When his sobs subsided, she interjected. “Can I ask ye sommat?”

Kiln, his voice useless for the moment, bobbed his head.

“Would ye tell me about mum?” Ember rubbed her foreleg, her tail swishing in apparent agitation. “Would ye tell me what she was like, how ye met, when she died? Would ye tell me about yerself? Before ye left? I’ve had nothin’ but questions for years. I just wanna know.”

She placed her hoof on the glass. Anger, fear, elation, sorrow, hope, and unease flitted across her face in quick succession. “All these years, I just wanted a chance tae speak with ye. An’ now I finally caught up. Will ye speak tae me? Will ye show me the answers tae my questions? I dinnae even know if I love or hate ye. Please, just talk with me.”

Kiln nearly broke out sobbing anew. He placed his hoof over hers. “The only thing I know for sure is that I love ye. I just dinnae know how tae show it.”

His heart swelled with every emotion he could possibly feel. A confusing jumble of relief and anxiety, fear and faith, joy and despair. He pushed it all aside, for the sake of his daughter. “Aye. Let’s talk.”

Author's Note

The song is based on "We Will Stand For Everfree," from the Equestria Girls special.

Possibly the coolest song in all of the Equestria Girls movies that isn't from Rainbow Rocks. In which all the songs are the best.

The Siren Song of Sweetie Belle

The Buttercup’s Folly washed into the Manehattan Harbor to a chorus of cheers from the family and friends onshore. Sweetie Belle spotted Rarity and her parents—her father hung out over the water, nearly dropping himself in headfirst. They blew kisses, which Sweetie returned with gusto. Sailors and soldiers scrambled to secure the ship. The gangplank lowered, the crowds barely kept back by the stalwart efforts of the Guardsponies on the pier.

Sweetie stepped off the ship and onto dry land. She was immediately smothered by her mother, embraced and practically dragged off her hooves back to her family. She didn’t mind the affection at all. It had been all she could think about all day long. With the four of them together, it was warm. It was cozy. It was home.

She lifted her head for a breath and saw a similar situation playing out between Button and his parents. His father sniffled as he hugged his son, trying and failing to keep his fake moustache in place. His mother remained inconsolable, alternating between kissing her son and scolding him for never giving them updates. Button took it all in stride, his face the very definition of relieved.

Apple Bloom danced with her young niece Cinnamon while Applejack, Bic Mac, and Cheerilee sang a welcome home song. Twilight Sparkle flew up to hug her and whisper in her ear. Apple Bloom nodded with a frown. She continued dancing with Cinnamon while Twilight went to hug Princess Luna.

Aboard the ship, Blankety Blank hobbled out of the infirmary, supported on either side by Care and Martial. They went to the ship’s rail and watched quietly, a smile not far from any face.

“Sweetie Belle!” An orange-coated pegasus fluttered overhead on purple wings. “Sweetie! Apple Bloom!”

Sweetie’s heart leaped in her chest. She pulled away from her parents and Rarity, muttered an apology and a promised return, and raced towards Scootaloo. The skinny pegasus met her halfway with a lighthearted tackle and a bundle of laughter. The clomp of hooves came from behind Sweetie, and the both of them were scooped up by Apple Bloom in a pony-sized group hug.

Sweetie’s glasses fell from her nose as she hugged her friends close. “I love you guys so much.”

“Love you, too, Sweetie.” Scootaloo nuzzled the others. “Love you, too, Bloom. ’Bout time you got back safe.”

“Choo-choo!” Rainbow Dash led the Apples and the Belles in a procession to surround the three young mares. “Feels train comin’ through! Step right up and take a number for your special time with your daughter-slash-sister! The Heroes of Equestria!”

Scootaloo jumped onto Rainbow’s back and ruffled her many-colored mane. “Yeah, yeah. Spread the love. It’s been forever since we haven’t been in mortal peril. We need a sec.”

“Y’know what?” Applejack pulled off her hat and laid it across her chest. “This calls for a super-special welcome home dinner for the families at the Apple Farm.” She winked at Rainbow. “You’re invited, too, Dash.”

“As if you could keep me away.”

“You got it.” Applejack secured the hat on her head, adjusting it a couple of times before it settled right. “So who’s up for a one-way ticket back to Ponyville?”

Sweetie stepped away from Apple Bloom. She looked back to the ship, a small frown on her face. “There’s something I need to do first.”

“What’s that, Sugarcube?”

“Make it right.”

A cart rolled down the gangplank, filled with dozens of hearts. Their life shone brightly as they laid nestled within cushions and blankets. The crowd parted as the cart was pulled by strong guardsponies. Just ahead, behind the happy families, stood a group of two-hundred-odd ponies, all gazing passionlessly at the proceedings. No heart beat within their chests. Their color was muted to shades of gray. They had no thought, save that which was demanded of them.

Sweetie Belle glanced at Button. He smiled at her, giving her a reassuring nod.

Sweetie stood between the heartless ponies and their missing souls. She took a deep breath in and softly let it out as a song.

“Reach for my hoof
I’ll lead the way
Back to your home
The land of yesterday

“We will find peace
We will find love
Dance on the ground below
Watching stars above”

The hearts came to life. One by one, they lifted upon currents of their own magic, ablaze with their own unique living color. The hearts flew and swirled around the docks, leaving trails of fairy dust in their wake.

“Painful sighs
Turbulent times
Fragile as porcelain

“Body, soul
Will be made whole
So you can live again”

“Journey long
To hear my song
And though our world is uncertain
There is beauty in a heart shared with a friend”

A heart twinkled and flew to the chest of a soulless pony. The mare gasped, clutching at her throat. Her breath came in a rush, near hyperventilation, until intelligence returned to her eyes. She realized where she was. She felt the soul blazing within her body. Her fear turned to instant joy, tears pouring unrestrained down her face even as she laughed aloud.

“The darkness moans
Their force thrown
Into a disarray…

“We’re not alone
How we’ve grown
Our freedom won this day”

More hearts found their owners. Ponies of every tribe. Mares and stallions. Elders and children. The celebration grew with each heartbeat returned.

Sweetie Belle’s mind’s eye saw her and Button seated side-by-side on the ship back home. He turned to her, holding her hoof in his. They had a theory, the two of them. A hypothesis that Sweetie was testing that very moment.

If she had the power to capture hearts, maybe she had the power to set them free.

“As I sing out
You’ll be set free
Rise from your bow
Brush the dust off of your knees

“Come celebrate
Our jubilee
Wipe away every doubt
It’s just you and me”

The crowd surged towards Sweetie Belle, cheering up a storm. They surrounded her, laughing and dancing. Young fillies and colts hugged her legs. Hugs were exchanged as families were reunited.

“Thank you, Sweetie!”

“I can breathe again!”

“I missed you!”

“Free at last! Free at la-ha-ha-hast!”

“Three cheers for Miss Belle!”

“You gave us hope!”

“You led us out of the dark!”

“Can I have your autograph?”

The train was boarded in short order. Food was served to all as they journeyed through Equestria. Many left at the various stops, having finally been returned home. Each goodbye was tearful and thankful as they shared their gratitude to Sweetie Belle. And to the others, of course, but a special thanks was given for giving them some semblance of comfort when their souls were stolen.

At the end of the day, when the sun dipped beneath the horizon, Sweetie fell asleep across a bench, propped up between the also-snoozing Scootaloo and Applebloom. A small smile touched her lips as sweet dreams led her home.

***

Button Mash walked into his smallish house in downtown Ponyville, rested from his nap on the train. He flicked on the lights, and found home to be just as dingy and disarrayed as when he’d left. The food in the refrigerator had probably—no, definitely—spoiled. His bedding hadn’t been washed. His bathroom hadn’t been cleaned…

He opened his saddlebags and set his Joyboy on the table. He hadn’t turned it on once during the adventure. He hadn’t had the copious amounts of downtown he’d originally expected. He flicked it on and was rewarded with a joyous jingle as the game started up. Glorious early nine-hundred eighties pixel animation greeted his eyes. A young filly named Epona found herself thrown into a quest for which she were not prepared, but still succeeded in victoriously vanquishing evil.

And that’s where Epona’s story ended. That’s where she ceased to exist.

Button dug through his belongings and found a block of wood. A kit with various carving tools lay beside it, along with a small box of paint and brushes. Button placed it all on the table and sat down. He carved for hours, separating the wood into several pieces. First, four cloven hooves took shape. Then a chitin-armored body. All eight segments of legs needed to be done individually, including the upper and lower portions. Next, a tail spiraled with waves and curls. He set them aside and stared for a long time at the blocks reserved for the head and wings.

He spent the longest time on these fine details. Getting the muzzle just right. Making the eyes soft, yet with an air of strong determination. Creating veins in the wings. He had a book beside him with pictures of changelings, for a point of reference. Antennae and a craggy horn sat atop the puppet’s head, beside pointed ears.

Then came the painting session. Black was the most populous color, of course, but he did not neglect the blue and green in the eyes. The mane and tail were green, giving it his best guess as to the actual hue. The wings he did in pale blue, with silver paint in the veins so that they would pop onstage.

The next day, he’d take the pieces to Dinky so that she could assemble it and link it to a control yoke. The puppet could be given life in the next play he presented… however long it would take to iron out the story.

River Cicada lay before him, staring at him with those eyes that sought to protect her people so dearly. He took a prop from his shelf: A purple crown with a six-pointed star embedded in it. He placed it beside the head and sighed.

“Stories don’t end when they end, do they?”

His door rattled with a familiar, rhythmic knock. His ears perked up. “It’s open, Rumble.”

Rumble poked his head in. He limped on his cast, stepping into the tiny house. “Yo, you mind a little company? Got some guys who wanna say hi.”

“Really?” Button hoisted himself to his feet and hastily washed the sawdust and paint from his forelegs. “Are you sure you’re up for visitors? You look like a chew toy.”

“Button, my man, I’ve been cooped up for days on end. I have not been able to so much as scratch my dock without pain. I am good and ready to break out of the gloom and doom and drink way too much coffee.”

“That’s the Rumble we know and tolerate,” said a voice from outside. Snips waved from behind the muscular stallion, much smaller than Rumble despite his considerable girth. “So when are you gonna invite us on an adventure? You gotta save some of the epic battles and beautiful ladies for the rest of us!”

“Is that what I was doing?” Button bumped Snips’ hoof. He held the door open for the fourth stallion to step in. “Problem was, most of the pretty girls were trying to kill me.”

“Really?”

“It was like sixty-forty.”

Pipsqueak clapped a hoof on Button’s back, winking with his patch-furred eye. “We’re just glad to see you back spit spot, wot wot! And in one piece; I’d call that a resounding victory.”

Pain shot through his body as a hard hoof hit harder bruises. “You sure about that whole ‘one piece’ thing?”

“Unless you’re missing something unmentionable,” Snips said. He plopped a bag of groceries on the table, careful to avoid the work-in-progress puppet. “You mind clearing a path, dude?”

“Sure.” Button carefully placed the parted-out River in a box lined with fabric. He placed it on the shelf where the pony version had once sat. He reentered the kitchen-slash-dining room and found a smorgasbord of small edible treats laid out for the four of them. “Holy cow! I can’t tell you how much I missed just plain cheese and crackers.”

Pipsqueak placed a slice of Pepper Jack on a wheat cracker. “Only the best for you, Button. So, what happened? Care to regal us of the tales of your exploits? Daring duels? Frantic firefights? Radical rescues? Is it true that you killed the actual real-life Ahuizotl yourself?”

Button snorted. He took a seat and rested his head on his hoof. “It’s a long story. A really, really long story.”

Snips piled three levels of crackers and cheese atop each other. He tried and failed to down it in a single bite. “So spill. We’re all ears.”

Button looked around the table at the three friends. He smiled, taking a bite of one of the milder cheeses. “I’ll tell you the tale, but only if you also join me for a couple of rounds of Maniacal Melee on the Famicolt 64.”

Rumble leaned forward, putting his weight on his good foreleg. “Throw in a late-night game of Go-Cart Apocalypse 3 and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

***

Queen Chrysalis II touched a hoof to the boundary pillar at the edge of the old changeling city. The thick jungle air felt good against her carapace, leaking into the seams like water running down her back. Light shone through the leaves, decorating the ground with a brilliant green.

Princess Celestia stepped around the pillar to pull a tangle of vines aside. A cliff appeared before her, which overlooked a pyramid in the midst of the jungle. The stepped structure had a crumbled, decayed pinnacle, which probably held a sun device at one time or another. Time and the rage of revolting slaves had left it naught but ruins.

The princess walked up to the edge of the cliff, guided by Daring Do’s company of explorers. She offered a hoof to Chrysalis and led her down on magic-laden wings. It was a quick flight to the pyramid, and a quick climb down to the depths of the changeling city.

The clockwork innards of the walls and ceiling churned, deep and constant. Light came from the panels overhead. The carved bridges and walkways of the city were covered in dust, but otherwise unaffected by the passage of time. Rooms could be seen built into the walls. Passageways and tunnels lay dark, beckoning Chrysalis forth in their own mysterious, unknowable way.

Princess Celestia stepped into the entryway of the city. “It seems we made it here at last, Chrysalis.”

“Yeah.” Chrysalis stepped forward, careful to avoid the bronze panel on the floor. If it contacted her changeling magic, there was no telling what would happen. “The report said there were murals on the wall?”

“That would be in the throne room.” A soldier, Sturm, took a ladder to the lower level of the city. “Follow me.”

Celestia, and Chrysalis flew behind him, keeping their pace slow and sedate. There was no rush for any of them. Soldiers combed out in their wake, spreading throughout the city to make sure any threats were taken care of.

No threats emerged. No Strutters made their move. No antlike automatons attacked. All was quiet, save for the rumbling of gears.

Sturm and his partner Drang pulled open the doors of the throne room. A large golden throne sat at the center of the round room. Immediately, Chrysalis could see the murals depicting the ancient changelings and their history. Fairies battled with outmatched soldiers. Homes were devastated. Lives were changed forever at the end of the First Age.

But then River Cicada appeared, and the Second Age began. Six changelings, five wearing necklaces and the sixth a crown, stood before the Lord of the Unseelie Court and cast him into the Abyss.

If only their history had stopped there.

Magic hummed above the seat of the throne. Spirals of sparks twirled their way through the air, casting a green glow on Chrysalis. She stumbled back. Sturm and Drang hefted their spears as lines of green magic traced an outline through the air. Legs appeared, then a thin torso, which was topped by a head and knife-thin wings. The deposed queen of the changelings sat before them, in all her ghostly glory.

Celestia lowered her head and lit her horn with a spell. “River Cicada? Alive?”

Sturm stabbed the ghost in the chest. He met no resistance save for a slight flicker in the image. He swished the weapon back and forth, parting her magic like ripples in a river. He licked his lips and drew back his spear. “What do you want?”

River’s voice was not heard by ear, but through the heart. It echoed in Chrysalis’ consciousness, chilling her to the bone. “Why have you come to this place?”

Chrysalis frowned. When she’d spoken to River before, it had been a strong, solid, commanding voice. One used to being obeyed. Now, though, she sounded tired. “I came to see the city. I wanted… confirmation that the changelings had indeed wielded the Elements of Harmony.”

“Yes. We did.” The image fell out of alignment with itself as it nodded, the head separating from the body. “I was the first Bearer of the Element of Magic. The Creator himself gave me the relics.”

“You were on the Hesperus Mactans,” Celestia said. “That ship was destroyed. How could you have survived?”

The ghost looked at Celestia for a long, excruciating moment. She looked back at Chrysalis, her shoulders drooping. “I was never on that ship. I had never left this city. I projected my consciousness utilizing the changeling technology that spans from this city to all our former homes.”

Celestia stepped forward with a frown. “That sort of power would strain an alicorn, let alone—”

“Tell this pony to be silent.” Cicada bent low to put her head at Chrysalis’ level. “Please.”

The ghost faded from view. The glimmering green sparks danced around the throne before the image was able to return. Cicada pawed at the air. “I failed, Chrysalis the Second. I failed us all. I could not return the changelings to their former glory.” The various lines that made up the crude silhouette pulled apart from each other, bending and twisting in indiscernible patterns. “You are our last hope. Take the Spade of Hearts and rebuild. Rebuild our empire, Chrysalis.”

“I refuse.” Chrysalis’ cheeks heated up as she found all other eyes on her. “I will not rebuild your empire, Cicada. I will restore the changelings. I will bring our people back into the light. But I will not do so as you did.” She lowered her head so that she didn’t have to look at the ancient queen. “The dagger is going to be destroyed. I alone made this decision.”

River Cicada vanished into a cloud of sparks. Her voice groaned deep within Chrysalis’ soul. “Then you have killed us all. Henceforth, you shall be called Chrysalis, the Last Queen of the Changelings.”

Chrysalis brushed aside her blue mane. “Even now, you still think murder and subjugation is the only way to restore us? That is why you failed, Cicada. That is why your empire shall never be.”

The sparks rested on the seat of the throne. They sat there, flickering, until they extinguished one by one.

Chrysalis stepped closer and put her hoof on the throne. A jolt of magic snapped at her hoof, sending pain up through her foreleg. She sucked on the injury as Sturm and Drang readied their spears. They stood over her, protecting her from further harm.

The golden throne came apart. Panels fell away. The bronze-colored joints within folded up like an accordion. The seat opened up, and a pedestal rose. Nestled within was a green heart, beating slowly and weakly, its light barely casting a shadow.

The light faded to black, and the heart crumbled to dust. The gears in the city walls slowed, then stopped. The lights dimmed until all that lit the city was the magic of Celestia’s horn and the glow of Royal Guard armor.

Celestia rubbed the scar across her chest. “She failed because she tried to do it alone.”

Chrysalis gazed at the scar, then turned to the remains of River’s heart. Celestia’s normally kind, calm face had faded in the wake of the ancient queen’s death. Chrysalis could feel a certain degree of dread in the princess’ emotions. As if she gazed into a mirror and didn’t like what she saw.

If Chrysalis was honest with herself, she felt much the same.

They walked out of the throne room and closed the door behind them. It was now a mausoleum, rather than a city. A monument to changelings long gone.

“I should return to Canterlot,” Chrysalis the Last Queen said. “This place is not fit to be the changeling home.” She looked to Celestia, who seemed to be at a loss for words. “I need to speak with my father and his wife. And… could you arrange a meeting with Mand—Blankety Blank?”

“Of course, Chrysalis.” Celestia cleared her throat and set off at a trot, her eyes kept level to the horizon. “It will be no trouble at all.”

***

Chrysalis the Last Queen walked through the Canterlot Castle gardens, her father close behind. Shining Armor watched his eldest daughter closely, as if trying to read her thoughts. But he was no changeling; as long as she kept her face firm, he could no sooner decipher her inner workings than he could fly. On the other hand, his thoughts were loudly broadcast. His and Cadence’s both.

He knew why she wanted to talk, even if he wasn’t sure of her reasons. That’s what the conversation was about. That’s what she would lay to rest. His doubts.

“I have something important to tell you,” she said quietly.

“You can tell me anything.”

“I know.” Chrysalis sat on a bench in front of a large tree. The branches blossomed with beautiful flowers, though their petals had already begun to drop. Shining Armor sat beside her, while Cadence faced them, her resting spot a soft patch of grass. Chrysalis looked up at her father. His kind, blue eyes matched her own so well. As well as any of his children. “I have to leave Equestria.”

Shining Armor frowned, his answer ready. “No, you don’t. You can have a home here. I can finally protect you, Chrysalis. We can be a family.”

“I have other responsibilities.” The chitin on Chrysalis’ face squeaked as she brought her eyebrows together. “My first family will always be the changelings. They are my priority. Their safety is my greatest duty. Unless Thorax’s tribe can be found, we are the last of my species. I have to do what’s best for them. I have to lead them on the road to recovery.”

“That’s why you need to stay here.” Shining Armor stood up and trotted out a small circle in front of her bench. “Here, we can offer you security and space to grow. Cadence, Luna, Celestia, and Twilight can all help you to be a better ruler.”

“That would be true…” Chrysalis turned her eyes on Cadence. “If I agreed with their politics.”

Cadence blinked rapidly. She looked back and forth between her husband and the queen. “What is she talking about?”

“The night you saved my life,” Chrysalis said, “you did so at the cost of another’s life.”

Cadence spread her wings slightly. It was an unconscious movement, an unintentional intimidation tactic. An untrained response. “And I would gladly trade many more lives for yours. You’re important to our family, Chr—” She stumbled over the name, but was just able to make it out without shuddering. “Chrysalis. You are under our protection.”

“You did not trade a life for mine, Cadence.” Chrysalis lowered her wings and raised her head. With the height of the bench, she just beat out the tip of Cadence’s horn for altitude. “You rescued me, sure enough. You disarmed my attacker handily. But then… you killed him. You killed him out of revenge.”

Cadence stood up, all attempts at diplomacy gone. “Excuse me? That stallion was a threat to my family. He harmed my children. If you think for a moment that I would allow him to—”

“I know,” Chrysalis sighed. She let her wings droop as her hind legs dangled over the edge of the bench. “I’m sorry.”

Shining lay beside Cadence, his face more serious than she had ever seen him. “Please explain yourself, Chrysalis.”

Chrysalis the Last Queen bobbed her head. She rubbed her foreleg until a hole caught her cloven hoof. “When I was five… that was the year Chrysalis the Tyrant, my mother, launched her attack on Thorax’s tribe with her half-tribe of scattered changelings. A young changeling known as Mandible was my caretaker. He was the only creature who was kind to me for my entire childhood up to that point. Most considered me a half-breed, sired by pony blood. They didn’t know that my destiny was to become queen.”

Chrysalis was unable to hide her flattening ears as the memories played themselves out in her mind’s eye. “My mother refused to correct them. She figured it would toughen me up. But it just made me miserable.” A lump formed in her throat. Years of pain and frustration longed to burst through the surface, but she forced it down. “Mandible spoke of Thorax’s tribe. How they always had enough love. How they had a strong friendship with the dragons and the ponies. How if only Thorax was our king, everything would be fine.”

She kept her eyes on Cadence. The princess listened closely, but Chrysalis could taste the emotions of her thought process. Every thought was tainted by defensiveness. By a self-assurance that she was in the right. Chrysalis couldn’t pierce such resolve, not against such a strong heart. Still, she had to trek onward. “The night of the final battle, my mother found out that Mandible planned to defect and take me with him. She sent a squad of her most vicious soldiers to murder him during the battle. While the war raged around us, she gloated to me how they tore him to bits, ripped his wings apart, poked his eyes out. In the middle of her laughing fit, I found I could take it no more. I snatched a spear from a nearby guard and thrust it right into her heart.”

Chrysalis choked. She felt the blade enter her mother’s carapace. She saw the utter shock, the betrayal on her mother’s face. Her mother’s final words were a muttered curse, followed by a blood-drowned gasp. “The sight of my mother’s corpse… I couldn’t move. I couldn’t react. I had utterly drained myself of any motivation. If Commander Bugly hadn’t abandoned the battle to rescue me, I would have perished in Equestria’s reprisal attack.”

Tears fell from her eyes. The sting of hatred long since grown cold ached in her chest. “I took revenge on her then and there. I repaid her for what she did to Mandible. And it left me broken. I didn’t speak for two years. I had to be force fed. Eventually, I realized that the changelings with me were my family, and my responsibility. That helped me break out of my self-destructive loop…”

Chrysalis stood on the bench, wiping her cheek dry. “I reflected on myself. I reflected on why I killed her. I realized that I had just done exactly what my mother had taught me all those years. Take revenge. Destroy all your enemies. Leave their bones in the dust.” She raised her head and looked into Cadence’s soul through her eyes. The defenses were getting ready for a counterattack. “I can’t let my changelings grow up in an environment like that.”

Cadence took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She spoke softly, and Chrysalis had to lean closer to hear. “You’re comparing me to your mother, but our situations are not the same. I killed him to protect you. To protect Flurry, and Amore, and Lance. I would never hurt an innocent person.”

The changeling queen shook her head at the pony princess. “If anyone else—anypony else—had killed a prisoner, they would be sent to prison themselves.”

Cadence’s breath grew short. She looked to her husband, who hugged her close. She attempted to speak, thought better of it, and shut her eyes.

Chrysalis lowered her ears. “But you haven’t been, nor will you ever be. You won’t be held accountable for your actions. In Equestria, you are above the law.” She stepped off the bench and walked close to Cadence. She looked up at the princess, the lump in her throat making it hard to speak. “You were right when you said you were nothing like my mother. You are like the pony you see as your mother: Celestia. She would travel from kingdom to kingdom, murdering their leaders whenever they did something evil. She didn’t seek peace, or change. She destroyed. The griffon king, Berkut. The diamond dog chief, Wulf. Both deaths left their kingdoms lost in violence for generations.”

Her head drooped, her strength having left her. The Last Queen fell to her rump and hunched in the shadow of the prince and princesses. “It’s a path I can’t follow in Equestria. I can’t raise my people up in the world Celestia created.”

Shining Armor couldn’t speak, but his emotions broadcast his pain fervently. He stayed at his wife’s side, supporting her fully. Good. That was good. They needed each other.

Cadence, her face the very picture of exhaustion and dismay, spoke quietly. “Where will you go?”

Chrysalis was able to sit up a little straighter. This, she was sure of. This, she knew, was a good thing. “King Andean needs changelings to help him control his sun device. With this chance, changelings can make the world a better place for the first time in two-thousand years.”

“Good for you,” Shining croaked. He touched a hoof to her shoulder. “Good.”

When he didn’t pull the hoof away, Chrysalis tilted her head. He had something brewing beneath the surface, but it was too complex to boil down to a single emotion. “But?”

“You are wrong about one thing.” Shining Armor lowered his head to her level. “We hold each other accountable.”

She pursed her lips. “I don’t understand.”

“We all need someone to hold us accountable.” He touched a hoof to Cadence’s shoulder. “Cadence holds me accountable. She keeps me in check. She makes sure I’m making good choices. She keeps me on the straight and narrow. And I do the very same thing for her.”

He looked at his wife eye-to-eye. She rested her forehead against his. Cadence spoke, her throat dry. “If we make a mistake, we work together to overcome it. We remind each other of what we need to do, and what we need to avoid. With the power we all have… the mistakes are huge. And the consequences are equally so.”

Shining gave his wife a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Twilight has her friends to keep her accountable… mostly Spike, but also the other Bearers. Luna has her sister and Twilight. Celestia… I don’t know if Luna gets through to her, but she tries.” He brushed the mane out of Chrysalis’ eyes. He wanted to smile, but the best he could manage was to lighten his dour frown. “We grow beyond our mistakes. Little by little. We’re all imperfect, but together, we can help each other improve.”

Chrysalis the Last Queen sniffled. She gasped as she fought back tears. “I… I think I can do the most improving in… in Felaccia…”

Shining pulled his eldest daughter to his chest. He let his tears fall in her mane as hers dampened his coat. “Then go. But know that you always have a home here.”

Cadence hugged the both of them with gentle wings. Chrysalis felt the princess’ eyes on her. There was a slight sourness to the flavor of her emotions, just as it had been the first day they’d met. But overpowering it was the same sweet, sugary warmth Shining Armor felt. The same one she felt when her own children were near.

Was it love?

Despite everything?

Whatever it was… it felt nice.

***

Blankety Blank stood at the edge of the Manehattan docks. It had been three months since he’d returned, and he’d spent the time recuperating in the best hospitals Celestia could provide. His chitin had regrown on an equal footing to the changelings injured in the attack on the castle. Even now, he could see Commander Bugly strutting up the gangplank with three hooves intact—he didn’t seem slowed by as-yet not-regrown limb.

Three months prior, a ship had carried Blankety back from Felaccia. Now, the same ship was set to sail back, this time holding the Last Queen of the Changelings. Not just her, though. Her entire tribe of one-hundred changelings had arrived from the Badlands to make their new home in the mountainous kingdom of the griffons. Maybe they would find the ability to grow. Maybe they could restore the world’s view of them as a species and a people.

If Blankety Blank was truly honest with himself… he hoped they would.

“Mandible?”

Blankety turned at the sound of his name. Queen Chrysalis stood behind him, finally free of the disguise she’d had when they’d last spoken. It had been so long since that night at the gala. It had been far longer since they’d been in the tribe. Seven years, in fact. Nearly eight.

A flurry of emotions crossed the twelve-year-old queen’s face. Some anxious, some pained, some happy. She settled for a sort of uneasy peace, like two neighboring nations that never got along. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“I had to.” Blankety Blank frowned, his ears falling limp at the sides of his head. “I couldn’t l-let… l-l-let…” He took a deep breath in, held it for a moment, and let it hiss out his nose. “I couldn’t let things stay the way they were. I need to apologize.”

Her blue mane drooped over one of her eyes as she bowed her head.

He rubbed his disguised mane, which was a pale blond. “I m-may… I may hate myself, but I need you to know that I could never hate you. I know you’ll rescue the changelings from the state they’re in. I know you’ll become the greatest queen who ever lived. I’ve always known that.” He rubbed his nose to stave off the tears building behind his eyes. “I wish I could help you, but…”

“It’s okay, Mandible.” Chrysalis reached out to grab his hoof. She held it tight, as if for dear life. “I’m sorry for what I said. I’m so glad you’re alive. But I do still miss you. I wish there was some way to convince you to come. But I know there isn’t. I understand how you feel. It’s okay that you can’t.” She raised her head to look him in the eye, at long last. “I can tell by the way you act with Martial Paw and Captain Carrot. You are so much happier here.”

She let his hoof go. She glanced around at the skyline of Manehattan, her eyes taking on a distant look. “You belong here… Mr. Blankety Blank.”

He walked around until he could stand in front of her. He touched her chin. “And I know this: No matter what Cicada said; no matter what your mother did; you will not be the last queen.”

The two of them hugged at the edge of the harbor. They broke it off all too soon, Chrysalis headed to her ship, and Blankety headed back to Care’s family’s house at the edge of the city limits. The Buttercup’s Folly sailed across the sea to its foreign destination, carrying the future of the changelings to its land of hope.

***

Daring Do threw a punch that knocked Typhoon aside. Tick Tock used the opportunity to run at the gemstone secure in the pedestal. The temporal distortion around the time portal caused him to slow in his movements, until he reached little more than a crawl.

Martial Paw plucked away at Daring Do’s typewriter. He had finished the final chapter the day before, but the confrontation between Daring, Tick, and their foe Typhoon hadn’t sat right with him. He’d tossed the pages into the fire and started anew.

It had been a long three months working on the story. Daring Do’s final tale. She had left it incomplete, but there were those willing to finish it for her. Rainbow Dash had penned a few chapters. Twilight Velvet as well. Princess Twilight Sparkle had offered her opinion here and there.

But here and now? It was up to Martial to give Daring the send-off she deserved.

He held Daring’s silver pocket watch in his palm. He flicked it open to look at her smiling face, alongside that of her husband. Time Turner flashed Martial a glittering grin. More than ever before, the two of them were together at last.

His writing reflected that. As a grand finale to the series, Daring Do the character finally settled down with Tick Tock, the love of her life. The time traveling plot of the villainous Typhoon was halted, and the dastardly actions of Ahuizotl were stopped once and for all. A cameo of nearly all of Daring’s companions throughout the series made an appearance. Spectra, the quick and perilous racing pegasus. Nameless, the friendly yet dangerous changeling. Strict Beakly, the curmudgeonly, honorable griffon warrior. Evening Corduroy, the museum director and constant source of fun and frustration.

Rainbow Dash, Blankety Blank, Martial Paw, Twilight Velvet… and so many more.

Martial pulled the finished page from the typewriter. He looked it over with a series of sighs. Spelling mistakes abounded, as they had for the entire writing process. Sentence structure, punctuation, paragraph formation, all would be tweaked and rearranged by Velvet. She was, ultimately, the one who would pull all the varied parts together to make a cohesive whole.

Martial bundled up the manuscript. It made for a weighty tome. He draped the pocket watch’s silver chain around his neck and hid the watch in his coat. He strapped the scabbard of his third-favorite rapier to his belt, and tucked the Turner volleygun into the far side. He hoisted the manuscript onto his back and left the guest bedroom.

Care Carrot’s parents had been gracious when they offered to let him and Blankety stay for the past few months. Theirs was a large farmhouse at the edge of the City of Manehattan, the centerpiece of a vast carrot farm. If he looked out the window, he could see the skyline framed by a sunset.

Care’s young brother, Sprout, passed him on the way down the hall. Martial ruffled the colt’s mane. “Is your big sis around?”

“I’ve got three, Mr. Paw,” Sprout said, his mouth quirked in a vaguely punchable smile. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“I suppose I walked into that one.” Martial narrowed his eyes and allowed the colt a smirk. “Touché. Very well; your second oldest sister, Care.”

“Yeah, she and Blank are gettin’ ready for a walk into town.” Sprout craned his neck to see over Martial’s comparatively-tall flanks. “What’s that? That novel you’ve been workin’ on?”

“One and the same.” Martial gently brushed past him to take the stairs to the ground floor. “I’ll see you when we get back, Sprout. Then… the reckoning.”

“You got that right,” Sprout said, cupping his mouth with his hooves. “I’m gonna whoop you so bad you won’t even be able to read your cards this time!”

“Not with the deck I’ve got,” Martial muttered to himself. It was Sprout’s own fault for allowing Martial to build his own deck of Friendship: The Assembly cards with his extras. The game was practically over before it began.

Martial stepped into the living room. Care lifted her head from the letter she was reading. Her ears leaped to alertness as she smiled. “Marty! Got the book done?”

“Insofar as the first—er—second draft goes.” Martial looked to the couch beside Care. Blankety Blank rested amid the cushions, his countenance defeated. He gave Martial the requisite smile, but rested his chin back down a moment later.

Martial rubbed the disguised changeling’s back. “How’d the meeting with the queen go?”

“Amazing, really.” Blankety let out a low chuckle. “Much better than I could have hoped.”

Martial nodded. “But you miss her?”

“Yeah. I do.” Blank shrugged and nudged his nose towards Care’s letter. “And… there’s that.”

“What?” Martial took the letter as it was handed to him. The seal of Princess Celestia coated the top of the document.

“When you’re finished with the book,” Care said, stretching her forelegs back. “We’ve got to take on our new assignments.”

The letter said as much, ending with a request to report to the princesses at the nearest convenience. Martial passed it back to Care, clicking his beak. “I see. It seems a bit too soon, if I’m honest.”

Care’s eyes bounced back and forth between the griffon and the changeling. “Tell you what. Why don’t the three of us go into town, mail the book, and grab a bite to eat. Sound good?”

Blank climbed to his hooves and brushed down his coat. “I’m all f-for it.”

“I was hoping you’d say so.” Martial Paw stepped outside the front door and allowed his wings to stretch to their full length. Houses were nice, but nothing beat the freedom of open air.

The three of them walked into Manehattan proper. Trams rattled by overhead. Taxi carts rushed past. Newscolts sang out the day’s big stories from street corners. It was a mess of ponies, and would only get busier as the night progressed. Martial Paw’s bigger bulk allowed him mostly free range on the crowded sidewalks, but only mostly.

Care adjusted her pace to walk beside him, while Blank trailed slightly behind. Living so near Manehattan had made her an expert in being heard in the midst of the crowded street. “So, I hear Celestia went and made you a knight.”

“That’s right,” he said. “The Knight of History, taking up the reins where Daring Do left off.”

“Yeah? Good.” She quirked an eyebrow, her smile cockeyed. “I’m still kinda miffed I wasn’t invited to the ceremony.”

“There wasn’t one. I requested she keep it quiet.” Martial stepped around a particularly pushy newscolt. Care led the three of them down a slightly-calmer street, one that cut through to the post office itself. “Just me, her, and Lady Velvet as a witness.”

“Fair enough. Knights of History have a history of keeping things surreptitious.”

“I prefer ‘clandestine.’” Martial laughed lightly. “It sounds classier.”

“Yeah.” Care bobbed her head. “I’ll give you that. But still, that means you’re going to be leading expeditions all over the world? Investigating ruins, deactivating traps, recovering dangerous artifacts?”

“That’s the plan.”

Care clicked her tongue. She glanced back to make sure Blankety was keeping up. He smiled and waved. “I guess I just wish we coulda worked together more. It’s rare I run into somebody as bullheaded as I am.”

Martial grinned. “I will forcibly take that as a compliment.”

“It is, I swear,” Care laughed. “Ah, who knows? Maybe more missions will come up that need multiple Knights of Harmony working together. I know you’re taking Blank with you again, right?”

“That’s r-right.” Blankety Blank fell into pace next to Care. He hugged her from the side. ““Which I why I was thinking you should c-come with us.”

“Really?” Care glanced between Martial and Blank. Her voice grew higher as a smile made its home on her muzzle. She voiced her doubts, but Martial was pretty sure she was just giving them an excuse to brush them aside. “I’m not exactly the academic type, guys. I don’t know too much about history or archeology or stuff like that.”

“No, perhaps not.” Martial tapped his beak with an outstretched talon. “But I do like Mr. Blank’s line of thought. Your combat and security skills would make you an invaluable ally, as always. But more importantly…” Martial gently laid a few feathers across her shoulders. “You are a friend. And that is something precious.”

“Aw, shucks.” The red on her cheeks was unmistakable. She turned her eyes up and to the side, sucking in her lips. “Yeah. Yeah, this could work. We could get Twilight Velvet to pull a few strings. Make sure it’s okay with Celestia. I think we could really do this!”

She trotted forward with a hoof outstretched. “Three legendary knights on a quest to discover the most forgotten and forbidden of objects! Observe their daring exploits as they brave countless perils! Behold as they fend off their mortal enemies!” She spun on her hind legs and faced them with a devilish grin. “And, of course, I’m still your superior officer.”

“Hardly,” Martial said. “I’ve been promoted to colonel.”

“Huh?” Care brought her eyebrows together, tilting her head to the side. “Wait, what? Are you even enlisted?”

“Of course not.” Martial winked as he walked past her. “I just wanted to see your reaction.”

“Har-dee-har, Marty.”

Blankety skittered ahead to open the door to the post office. He held it open for them, searching the night sky for the first sign of stars. Finding none in the twilight, he walked in behind them.

Martial hefted the manuscript onto the counter. “I’d like to mail this to Ponyville, please. Twilight Velvet, temporary caretaker of the Seeds of Friendship Public Library.”

A box, a stamp, and a few bits later, Daring Do and the Edge of Time was on its way to the editor. In a few short months, the final installment of the Daring Do saga would be published posthumously, delivered to the waiting fans.

Martial gripped the pocket watch tight. “It’s done, Dr. Do. Rest assured, your work is finally complete.”

As they walked out, Blankety stopped them with a hoof. “Wait a s-sec. Look.”

He pointed east to the harbor. Two stars twinkled as the sun vanished on the western edge of the horizon. “They appeared recently,” Blank said. “A few w-weeks ago at most. I think… it might be them.”

Care sidled up to him and hugged him tight. Martial laid his talons on their shoulders, watching the stars twinkle across the waters. Martial had to admit, there was a sense of familiarity as he looked upon the celestial objects. A spirit of adventure. A drive to explore. A zest for life.

The three heroes—the Knight of History, the Knight of Secrets, and the Knight Sentinel—shared a quiet moment of remembrance as the city bustled around them.

***

The Cauldron housed the seat of Dragon government, for what little government there was. Dragon Lord Ember ruled from her throne deep in the midst of the caldera volcano. Fiery lava pits and craggy obsidian spires were its décor and aesthetic. Harsh and combative was its people. Loners and warriors. Mythical entities and monsters. The dragons were many things, and most of them were vicious.

Spike felt just a little out of place, if he was honest with himself. Always had been, during his visits. Aside from the few he already knew—Ember, Crackle, Garble, Shardscale—the other dragons didn’t really talk with him. He sometimes heard rustling from the bushes, but any time he went to investigate, he found himself completely alone.

He soaked himself in a sparkling hot spring on the outskirts of the Cauldron. The minerals in the water attached themselves to his damaged scales, building them back up to their full potential. A full diet of gemstones lent even more strength and security to his body. It was slow going—the hole in his arm had only just closed up completely—but the pain had vanished long ago.

It was his shoulder that still had munched-up scales and searing agony. He submerged himself up to his neck and rested his chin on the stone surrounding the spring. There was just enough dry land for him to set a book in front of his nose and read while he recuperated. He had done nothing but read for three months, with only his dragon friends, a weekly visit from Twilight, and the occasional letter to keep him company. It was boring. It was painful. It was lame.

His ear twitched at a familiar, yet quite out of place, sound. Hoofsteps. A bunch of them, coming his way. No ponies spent any time around the Cauldron. The very atmosphere was toxic without precautions. Whoever it was had come with a very specific purpose.

Spike rose from the water and shielded his eyes from the sun. He saw five ponies. Two earth ponies, two pegasi, and one unicorn. His breath caught in his throat as he realized just who they were. He walked out of the spring and moved towards them. The walk became a run as the ponies quickened their own pace.

Spike and the largest earth pony met first. She was a tall mare, with strong muscles from a life of farm work. Her red mane danced about her head as he lifted her up and spun her. He set her back on the ground, and their lips met in a long-awaited kiss. He and Apple Bloom looked into each other’s eyes, unable to speak. They didn’t need to speak. Not just yet.

Rumble tackled Spike from above, nearly dragging him to the ground. Scootaloo came from a different angle; her smaller frame didn’t make as much of a physical impact, but quite the emotional one. Button Mash and Sweetie Belle took their turn next, hugging Spike around the middle.

“Oh my gosh,” Spike said. “Oh my gosh, I missed you guys so much.”

Apple Bloom laid her chin atop his good shoulder. “Missed you, too, partner. Y’all need to heal faster.”

“What—what are you all doing here?” Spike slapped his forehead. “Dumb question. How did you all get here?”

“Button bought us all train tickets!” Scootaloo reattached a pair of saddlebags she had dropped at the beginning of the initial rush. “Since you’re gonna be healed in a couple of weeks, we figured we’d all camp out at the edge of the Cauldron and hang!”

Button Mash giggled as he strapped his tent bag to his back. “I am the resident camping expert.” He shot a glance at Apple Bloom, who gave him a faux stink-eye. “Aside from Apple Bloom, who is the super-camping expert.”

Sweetie Belle held up a box with Monopony plastered on the front. A gemstone necklace shimmered a pale green in time with her words. “We brought some of your favorite snacks, your favorite board games, and maybe you can introduce us to your dragon friends!”

“Wow.” Spike looped an arm over Rumble’s shoulder. “Wow, you guys are awesome. I can’t even… Thank you so much.”

“Come on, dude. What are friends for?” Rumble punched Spike in the chest. He laughed and took to the air, hovering on freshly-healed wings. “So, uh, is that thing safe for ponies?”

Spike followed his gaze to the hot spring. He shrugged. “Yeah. It’s not lava-hot. If it was, it’d boil right out of the pool—”

“Pool party!” Rumble flew straight for the edge of the water, dipped a hoof in and, finding it satisfactory, jumped butt-first into the spring. He sprayed mineral water from his mouth and floated on his back. “You guys gotta try it! Trust me, it’s awesome!”

Apple Bloom tugged Spike’s hoof. “Come on, what’re ya waitin’ for?”

Spike and Apple Bloom led the charge to the spring. The six friends swam and splashed, laughing and playing long into the day. A brief break to set up camp, a pause to cook and eat, and a period to dry off broke up the frivolity. At nightfall, they lay on the shore, looking up at a sky full of stars. Even the smoggy atmosphere of the Cauldron couldn’t completely hide the heavens from view.

Rumble yawned. “Now this… this is an adventure worth having.”

“Yeah.” Button answered the yawn with one of his own. “I could get used to this sort of ‘roughing it.’”

“Stop yawning,” Scootaloo yawned. “You’re gonna give me hiccups.”

Spike lay beside Apple Bloom, her hoof resting in his palm. “You know what? All these months of healing, practically alone in this pool… it all kinda seems worth it now that you’re here.”

“‘All these months?’” Rumble sat up to smirk at Spike. “It’s been like, three, dude.”

“That is ‘months.’ All of them, in fact.” Sweetie played with her necklace as she gazed at the sky. “You spent the same amount of time strapped to a brace.”

“Touché. Agony is agony.” Rumble rolled onto his stomach. “So we gonna play a game or what? If we play Monopony I call the hat.”

“I’m up for a game.” Button heaved himself upright and trotted to the bags. “Is it okay if I’m the boat?”

Sweetie sat upright and snuck a candy bar from her saddlebag. “Only if I get to be the carriage!”

“Ugh, come on.” Scootaloo threw Spike a lopsided grin. “Do I really have to be the iron again?”

“I’ll be the iron, on account of my internal temperature.” Spike sat on his haunches and cleared a dry spot for the board. He looked at each of his friends in turn, one after the other. “Apple Bloom, Rumble, Scootaloo, Button, Sweetie… Thanks. Thank you all for making this happen.”

Apple Bloom hugged him from behind, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

***

Sweetie Belle woke up early in the morning. She found her sleeping bag wet with dew, damp and uncomfortable. She rose and quickly ran a comb through her mane and coat. She stepped around the sleeping forms of Scootaloo and Apple Bloom—she knew Bloom at the least wouldn’t be awake for another few hours. She swallowed a quick shot of ambrosia. It rolled through her body on its way to keeping her fit and able. Just before she left the tent, she snatched her gemstone necklace from across the room and fastened it.

The air around the Cauldron smelled faintly terrible, but the enchantments protecting her from poisonous gas took the edge off. It was swallowed up by the scent of the forest, with its evergreen trees and its bed of browned pine needles. The hot spring bubbled a few feet away. Birdsong touched the tips of her ears and lifted her spirits.

She could hear Rumble snoring in the other tent. Her heart went out to Spike and Button. As well as Scootaloo, if she did end up being his wife someday. Ear plugs were perhaps in order there.

A moment’s examination found that Button Mash was not in the boy’s tent. He sat on his haunches at the edge of the hot spring, his hind legs dangling in. He hummed a song. It wasn’t one she recognized, but it was lovely all the same. She approached him, allowing her feet to make enough noise so that she didn’t startle him.

He smiled at her approach and patted the ground beside himself. She took the seat gladly and rested her shoulder against his. She kept her voice low so she didn’t disturb the sleepers. “I didn’t know you woke up this early in the morning.”

“I can get a lot done before I have to go to work.” Button Mash paddled his hooves, splashing the tingling mineral water. “And I really don’t think I could sleep another wink with Rumble’s thunderous snoring.”

“It is a bit much, isn’t it?” Sweetie giggled lightly. She spotted the sun rising above the Cauldron, pulled aloft by Twilight Sparkle’s magic. She and Button watched the sky blaze a bright orange that lit up the smoke pouring from the dragon kingdom’s many volcanoes. “Thank you for bringing us here.”

“No problem.” Button smiled, his eyes glancing to her before returning to the artistic canvas of the sky. “It was something we all wanted to do. I think Spike needed it.”

“Which brings me to my question.” Sweetie raised one eyebrow and left the other at an inquisitive angle. “How did you afford the trip? Five tickets to the edge of the known world can’t have been cheap.”

“Oh, well…” He grinned in a highly unconvincing manner. Much too wide and much to toothy. When Button laughed, he usually only showed his top teeth. His cheeks developed dimples, too, which were not in evidence when he was faking it. “I saved up for it. It was just a couple of weeks’ worth of stuff to set aside.”

Sweetie leveled out her lips, sighing through her nose. “Button…”

The fake smile fell away, dissolved into the nothing from whence it came. It was replaced with a weary frown, with one side of his mouth pulled back. “I cleaned and repainted the steam engine for Mr. Tracks. He gave me free two-way tickets to anywhere.”

Sweetie shook her head slowly. “The whole steam engine?”

“It took slightly more than a couple of weeks.”

“Button…” Sweetie rested against his shoulder. She clicked her tongue, rolling her eyes back. “When were you going to tell me my boyfriend is a workaholic?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” He shrugged the shoulder she wasn’t occupying. “It seemed like a nice thing I could do.”

“We would have totally helped you.” Sweetie bounced a curl with a hoof. “I know Scootaloo is an absolutely fantastic painter.”

Button smirked. “Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise.”

She dipped the edge of her tail in the water and flicked droplets at him. “It was very sweet of you. Even if you are an overachiever.”

“Yeah.” Button flicked an ear down. “Speaking of overachieving, I have something for you.”

Sweetie leaned away from him, giving him a small smile that called happiness from the depths of her heart. “Oh yeah? Hearth’s Warming’s a few months away.”

“Well… it’s kinda overdue.” He leaned backwards and gently paddled his hind legs in the pool. “Remember our first date?”

“I remember.” She gritted her teeth behind a close-lip smile. “Right up to the point I was knocked unconscious.”

“Yeah, but that part happened after the date.” Red spots appeared on his cheeks as a broadcast of his bashfulness. “During the date, we got to talking about songs.”

Sweetie glanced over her frameless glasses. “I remember you said you were writing a song.”

“Yep.”

Her mouth opened with a pop as her heart quickened. “You finished it?”

“Mostly.” His chuckle caused warm fuzzies to bubble up in Sweetie’s chest. “Enough to where I’m no longer embarrassed by it. I didn’t really have a chorus yet, so…” He pulled a harmonica out of his sidelong bag. He blew an experimental note. “Do you wanna—?”

Sweetie snorted, catching him off guard. “Do you really need to ask?”

Button shook his head. He played a slow, simple melody on the harmonica. After a couple of bars, he let the instrument rest against his haunches. He sang low, quietly, so as not to disturb the other campers. Sweetie scooched closer to hear his voice above the rumbling snores of Rumble.

“Remember the first time we met?
It’s a day I will never forget
Your eyes looked into mine
A moment so sublime
I’ve never had a moment’s regret”

“Remember the first time we laughed?
Walking down a bright rosy path
Our voices loud and long
Not a single thing was wrong
We had a time and a half”

His rosy cheeks fought and failed to suppress the smile that burst across his face. His eyes fell, tempted to look away from her, but he brought them back. As he entered the chorus, she inched herself ever closer.

“Remember the first time we kissed?
We’re really living in the moments like this
Such a breathtaking dance
Our symbol of romance
Ever since that first time we kissed”

Her silvery laugh nearly caused him to lose pace with his own song. He recovered marvelously, leading into his final verse with a bit more of a solemn air.

“Remember the first time we cried?
When it seemed like all hope had died
When faced with the unknown
We brought each other home
We carried on with our stride”

“Remember the first time we kissed?
We’re really living in the moments like this
Such a breathtaking dance
Our symbol of romance
Ever since that first time we kissed”

Her eyes drifted closed as she listened to his voice. She could feel his breath touch the edge of her muzzle as he whispered the final lines of the song.

“Remember the first time we kissed?
A single moment of heavenly bliss
It’s a promise I shall keep
No price could be too steep
It won’t be the last time we kiss…”

Sweetie smiled as she softly sang out her response.

“So I’ll stand by your side
And through all of the night
You won’t have to spend a moment alone
I will know all is right
When I look in your eyes
And I see that I’m already home”

Their lips met above the sparkling pool, glittering in the sunrise. The magic in their hearts intertwined just as surely as if they were captive to each other’s songs. But no trickery passed between the two of them. No dark magic or painful coercion. They were both perfectly free to give the best they had to offer.

They were free to be their truest selves.

Author's Note

Sweetie's song to the hearts is based on and to the tune of "The Edge of Dawn (full version)" from Fire Emblem: Three Houses. Please note that it's the credits version of "The Edge of Dawn," not the one subtitled "Lady of Hresvelg," and not the one subtitled "Seasons of Warfare."

Button's song at the end is made up. It's a little "country," a little "rock," and all "dork." :twilightblush:

The Aftermath

The Cross-Continental Correspondence

Dear Princess Corona,

Things have gone quiet since you guys left. Grandma Velvet says she talked to Merry Mare. She said that Merry’s not evil, just a very sad old lady. I don’t believe her. Aunt Twilight says I shouldn’t talk to Grandma about Merry anymore. She and Commander Skyhook say that they’re going to take care of it.

They know everything we know, but that doesn’t feel like a whole lot.

I’m going to start training with Aunt Celestia soon! I guess it’s just a bunch of extracurricular stuff to start with, but pretty soon we’re going to start talking about my alicorn powers. I hope I don’t have to use them for a long time. But I doubt it.

You know how crazy things are in the world right now. It feels like everything’s changing, but nothing’s getting better. At least my mom and dad are speaking with each other again. That’s good.

I guess I’m just still worried about the fairies. What do you think? Are you guys ready to fight them when they finally attack? Did beating the evil changeling queen get rid of your dad’s nightmares? Is the Sunspear fixed yet?

I dunno. Maybe you’ve got some good news. Sorry to dump everything on you like this.

Your Friend,
Flurry Heart

***

Dear Princess Flurry Heart,

Things are really good here! The changelings just sailed in yesterday, and they’ve already been given a home in the lower floors of the castle. Those weren’t really destroyed during Ahuizotl’s attack, so they took the least amount of preparation. I think they like it down there. It’s the closest thing to “underground” that we have in Roc.

Keep an eye on Merry, but don’t get too close. If we’re right about her, she’s willing to hurt anybody to get what she wants. Whatever that is. Stay safe.

I don’t know about being ready to fight the fairies. Our army was hurt pretty badly by the attack, but most of our war machines are still ready to fight. The Ironclad warships are just getting their finishing touches. But I’m not sure volleyguns and cannons can hurt fairies. We might be in over our heads even if we have enough sparkpowder to blow up a continent.

My dad’s still having nightmares. He’s quieter about it now. They’re not quite as scary. But I think that after Cicada spent so many years torturing him, he’s started to do it to himself just out of habit. Or maybe his dreams are prophetic like yours.

Princess Luna said not to work on the Sunspear until we’re sure the Spade of Hearts is completely destroyed. My dad’s working on something that can break it, but it’s not made of regular metal. It’s enchanted and probably really rare. The etchings in the caves make it look like the Elements were used to create it. What’s strong enough to break the Elements of Harmony?

I’ll write more when we get closer to getting the thing to work. I know we’ve got a lot of magic in the mountain. It shouldn’t be that hard.

Your Friend,
Corona

***

The Most Painful Student

Abacus Cinch trotted down a dim hallway in Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. Pale light from the moon shone through the windows to mingle with the warm lamplight dotting the walls. Classes were dismissed, and the students had long ago retreated to the dormitories. A stray thought led her to the potions classroom—just to check if Professor Wincerind had remembered to lock the door. She tried the handle and found that it rotated freely.

With a stately sigh and a slight shake of the head, she made her way into the room. A soft glow of light from her horn banished the shadows and revealed that the equipment remained undisturbed. She’d have to speak with the professor again, just to drive home the dangers of leaving such a collection of chemicals and magical items unattended. He was as fine a teacher as any she’d seen over the years—and make no mistake, she had seen a great deal—but he had a terrible habit of becoming distracted.

She closed the door and drew forth a keychain from the little pocket dimension of Nowhere. A twist of her telekinetic bubble set the bolt, and she continued her walk.

She next came to the dean’s office, her office, bringing her rounds full circle. She unlocked it, hid the keys away in Nowhere, and stepped into the darkness. A spark from her horn lit a lantern and illuminated the room. Trophies dotted the topmost shelves, while ancient tome upon ancient tome lined the wall to the left side of the room. Straight ahead lay her desk, twice as long as a pony and arranged as neatly as could be expected. The paperwork in the outbox lay stacked neatly, while the inbox overflowed with haphazard schoolwork and permission slips. The chair rose imperiously from the far side, a fuzzy maroon to compliment her coat.

To the right was a bay window open to Canterlot. The city sparkled in the darkness, full of ponies enjoying Luna’s night. Two chairs, not as opulent as the desk chair but just as comfy, faced the window, ripe for hosting an intelligent conversation or two.

Sitting in one of those chairs—her mane predominantly pink but still shimmering with living color—was High Princess Celestia of Equestria.

Abacus clicked her tongue and shut the door behind her. “Do you often wait in people’s offices in the dark? Unannounced?”

Princess Celestia sent her a wry smile. “Only when I doze off. It’s been a long day.”

Abacus took the chair beside Celestia’s and allowed the tightness in her shoulders to ease. However brief the reprieve may be. “Today was the meeting with the Saddle Arabian Ambassadors?”

“It didn’t go as well as I’d hoped.” Princess Celestia furrowed her brow, touching a hoof to her chin. “I don’t command as much respect as I used to…”

Abacus Cinch’s eyes trailed down before she could stop them. They focused on the scar marring Celestia’s chest; a grim reminder of an event that had changed the course of history. An assassin who had nearly succeeded. A battle that had nearly collapsed Canterlot. An enemy who had seemed invincible.

But then, Celestia had once seemed invincible, too.

“Perhaps some fizzy cordial?” Abacus reached across the room with her magic and pulled a cooler from beneath her desk. “I have strawberry.”

“I would love strawberry cordial.” Celestia giggled like the young fillies who made the school their home. “It’s been a while since I sneezed bubbles.”

Abacus smiled despite herself. She poured Celestia a glass, then one for herself. They toasted to a backdrop of a sparkling city, one still healing from old wounds. She cracked open a window, just enough for cool night air to touch their manes. Just enough for the crickets to serenade their visit.

“It’s nice to see you, Celestia.”

“It’s nice to see you, too, Abacus.” Celestia took a tiny sip and swished it around, savoring it as a treasured commodity. “I suppose you’re wondering what brings me here tonight.”

Abacus did not answer audibly, but looked over her spectacles at Celestia, pursing her lips in a severe frown. She held Celestia’s gaze until the alicorn princess glanced away into the night.

“Well, that’s hardly fair.” Celestia grinned, her left ear drooping towards Abacus Cinch. “You’re using the teacher stare on me.”

“I’ve refined it over the years.” Abacus tilted her head to one side. “Though I learned from the best.”

“No kidding.” Celestia sighed and tilted the glass all the way back. She sucked on her lips, possibly lapping up the last taste of the drink, and shook her mane out. “I’ll cut to the chase, then. I want to teach again.”

Abacus’ eyebrows shot straight up. She steadied her expression a moment too late to go unnoticed. “I… It has been quite some time since you taught Princess Sparkle—”

“I know. But that’s not quite what I mean.” Celestia hovered her glass to the desk and set it beside the inbox. She tapped her hooves together as her wings fidgeted behind her back. “I’m not just talking about tutoring Flurry Heart. I would like to teach a classroom again.”

Abacus spoke before she could really think her words through. “I thought you’d stopped teaching after you finally got what you were looking for.”

The following silence stung. Celestia hung her head, her wings pulling over her shoulders to warm the skin beneath the hair. Abacus pressed a fetlock against her mouth, wishing she had held back a little more. There was a bite in her voice, just then. A pain that shot straight from her heart into the air between the two mares.

Celestia’s response was quiet and weak. “I am proud of all of my personal students, Abacus. Not just Twilight.”

Abacus rubbed her forehead, just beneath her horn. She stood from the chair and walked to the desk, casting half an eye over the paperwork. Problems for another day, one and all. It was late. She wanted to go home. She wanted to get away.

“I would like to teach Introduction to Magic again.” Celestia’s voice rose above the back of the chair, but the mare’s body was completely concealed by the velvety seat. “Just to get my hooves wet.”

Abacus nodded, and she figured Celestia could tell it was happening without seeing it. She adjusted the cravat around her neck, loosening it. “I suspect you have something a bit meatier in store for the future?”

“A bridge to cross when we reach it,” Celestia said, waving a hoof. Her voice was light, airy even. Definitely practiced. Definitely hiding something. “But that’s some time off.”

“Does it have something to do with Luna’s question regarding a class for…” Abacus removed her glasses and recited the exact words. “‘Manipulating the Celestial Objects’?”

“Ah.” Celestia’s horn appeared at the side of the seat as the princess lowered her head. “Luna already spoke about it?”

“As of yesterday, it’s the only thing she and I have ever spoken about.” Abacus polished her already-pristine lenses. “I had assumed you sent her to tell me and were unable to do so yourself.”

“Did she also tell you why we need the class?”

“No.” Abacus walked back to the chairs and gave the scar on Celestia’s chest a pointed look. “I figured that part out on my own.”

“Any potential selectees?”

Dean Cinch rubbed her chin. Her ears swiveled this way and that until she landed on a particular pony. “There’s a young orphan from Ponyville named Ember. She is a brilliant student, and I should like to see her succeed.”

She pressed her hooves together as she sat on the floor, looking up at the alicorn she held in such high regard. A regard that had eroded bit by bit over the years. “You know you never officially left the School for Gifted Unicorns. You just took an extended absence.”

“Absence.” Celestia’s voice grew weak and weary. “There’s a word with a number of interpretations.”

“I meant it in the literal sense, Celestia.”

Celestia rose from the chair and latched the window. She paused to view the city of Canterlot, glimmering like a jewel. “So do I have a job?”

Abacus came alongside her and handed her another glass of cordial. They stood together and looked straight ahead, letting their eyes fall anywhere but on each other. Abacus took a prolonged sip. “Would it matter if I said no?”

Celestia shifted her weight, an amount of uncertainty that Abacus had rarely seen in the princess. “It would matter to me.”

Abacus turned to look at Celestia. The princess’ eyes grew damp, heavy with the weight of a thousand years of stress and fear and sorrow. Abacus snapped her head away. “I can’t very well bar you from your own school, Princess.”

“Do you want to?”

Abacus shook her head. “No. No, you are welcome here. I’ll… I’ll meet with the other teachers tomorrow and discuss your placement. We have plenty of new students. There’s plenty of room.”

Celestia bobbed her head lightly. She walked steadily, slowly to the door. “Thank you, Abacus. I appreciate it. And Abby—” She looked over her shoulder. “—I really am so very, very proud of you.”

She closed the door behind her, and left Abacus alone.

Cinch sat behind the desk and poured a third glass of the fizzy drink. It would probably ruin her teeth at this rate. A flash of light drew a book from the shelves and floated it to her hooves. She opened the well-worn pages with a flick of her fetlocks.

“The Mare in the Moon,” she whispered, reading aloud to herself. “A myth of Equestria. Once upon a time, in the magical Land of Equestria, there were two regal sisters who ruled together and created harmony for all the land…”

***

The Ninth Circle

Lightning crashed above the Great Sea. Rain scoured the roof of Solitaire, the most secure prison in Equestria. The octagonal building was submerged in the ocean up to its top floor, which served as a landing pad for airships and a dock for boats. Any airships would have been cast into the sea during such a storm. Any boats would have quickly capsized.

Teleportation was the only means to travel tonight.

Rhombus was soaked to the bone as he was led across the rooftop to the entrance to Solitaire. His shackles sloshed in the thin layer of water coating the landing pad. His hydrophobic wings would have protected him from the deluge, had they not been bound tightly. The mask over his face prevented him from biting his guards.

“We’ve caught a live one, Commander Berrytwist!” The guard known as Checks Position shoved Rhombus onto a lift, which immediately began its descent. “This here fellow’s going to the bottom floor!”

“Another one?” The grizzled commander, Fizzlepop Berrytwist, looked Rhombus over, her broken horn framed by a bright lightning strike. “That’s the fourth one in as many years.”

If Rhombus looked past the broken horn, the vicious scar, and the dour expression—which he was quite happy to do—he had to admit that the commander was a rather attractive mare. Probably mid-thirties, if he knew anything about the fairer sex. “So I’m to get preferential treatment, then?”

“Hardly.” Fizzlepop scowled at him when she saw him eye her rump. “Keep your mind out of the gutter.”

“Beggin’ your pardon, lass.” Rhombus tilted his head in a bow, held back by his harsh chains. “If I had known there would be such bonnie lassies in this prison, I’d have dressed up.”

“You are going to the ninth floor, Rhombus.” Fizzlepop spoke without looking at him, her eyes looking impassionedly at each floor they passed by. “The deepest part of the prison, reserved specifically for traitors. You will serve out your twelve life sentences down there. Your days of threatening the royal family, the Knights and their families, and Equestria itself are long gone.”

“Remarkable,” Rhombus said. “You actually think you can keep me down here.”

The lift came to a stop. Rhombus stumbled down the corridor towards a row of cells. They came to one in particular, unoccupied save for the cot and the refresher. His chains were removed, his mask was detached, and he was allowed to enter the small room. His new home.

He leaned on the iron bars separating him from the guards. “I don’t suppose you’d care to join me for the evening?”

Fizzlepop Berrytwist turned on her heels and marched for the lift, Checks Position right behind her. They were soon out of sight and—to Rhombus’ perspective—out of mind. He craned his neck and looked down the aisle to see who else might have been dumb enough to face royalty and get caught. The cell across from his didn’t seem to have an occupant… until he looked closer. A shadowy shape prowled this way and that, occasionally revealing itself to be a lithe, feline body with six legs and a pair of tentacles. Displacer beast. Cool.

The cell beside that one had a donkey jack, missing one of his hind legs. He played solitaire with the complimentary deck of cards gifted to every prisoner. He gave Rhombus a glower, but quickly resumed his lonely game.

“Hoi there, friend,” a deep voice said from the cell next to Rhombus’. He couldn’t see the person, but the voice’s accent sounded like it hailed from lower Trottingham. “Wot’s up? Name’s Caution Tape. Former personal guard to Princess Celestia.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Rhombus tapped the stone wall in a mock hoof bump. “Rhombus, regional delinquent and former associate of Dr. Caballeron.” He chuckled to himself, polishing his hoof against his chest. “Former employee of Ahuizotl himself.”

“Yeah?” Caution let out a harsh laugh. “How’d that work out for you?”

“They’re both dead, of course.” Rhombus noted that the displacer beast had approached the bars of his cell. The direct light from the hall brought the dark-furred creature into sharp focus. “So I am gladly looking for other means of gainful employment.”

“Are you now?” Caution’s hooves clomped from within his cell. His voice grew low, so as not to be overheard. “Well, seems you’re in luck, mate. We’re escapin’ soonish. Endin’ our little stint in Her Majesty’s pleasure. Got any strong feelin’s on the fair folk?”

“Not in particular.” Rhombus walked to his cot and opened his deck of cards. He flicked one across the room, where it slotted neatly between two stone blocks on his wall. “I’m a simple stallion with simple desires. The path of gods and kings is beyond the scope of my interests.”

“It’s all good, man,” the displacer beast said. “I’m more’r’less in it for the cold hard cash. Caution’s on a quest to find his long-lost daughter, and Aspen…” He looked at the donkey’s cell with a furrowed brow. “Guess he’s just lookin’ to not die.”

“What I’m trying to do—” Aspen the Alliterative drew an ace from his deck and placed it atop his game area. He shuffled the cards already on hand, counting upwards as he cleared the board bit by bit. “—is avoid a war. That’s how the world dies, gentlemen. A war for the sun. Nobody is going to walk away unscathed.”

“War might be inevitable, Aspen,” Caution said. “Just gorra make it quick-like and decisive. That’s how we save the most lives.”

Rhombus rolled his eyes. “Again, I haven’t the patience for the playground posturing of world superpowers. What do you need me for? I’m skilled with a wingblade—” Another card flew across the room and split the first in half. “—but politicking and warmongering aren’t my forte.”

“We’re lookin’ for warriors, mate.” Caution tapped his hoof against the bars of his cell. “We need a small, elite team that can counter the Knights of Harmony. Somebody who can go in, kill what needs killin’, and scoot before things get pants-on-head crazy.”

Rhombus picked his teeth with a card. “The Knights, hmm? You’re talking Blankety Blank?”

“Aye.”

“Martial Paw?”

“He’s on the hit-list.”

“Care Carrot?”

Caution sighed through his nostrils. “She’s me old partner. Oi figure it’s only a matter o’ time before we clash.”

“Alright, then.” Rhombus flapped his wings to hover around his cell. He retrieved the cards he’d stuck into the wall and shuffled them between his hooves. “Say I do join you on your… naff little crusade. Would I be free to slay those I thought might be a threat to the cause?”

“If you gorra reason…” Caution’s voice took on a dark growl. “You clear it wi’ me.”

“Fair enough.” Rhombus looped around in his cell. He hovered upside down, allowing his blue mane to hang limp. “I’m not just in this for my own personal gain, mind. I’m fighting for love. There’s a lovely little lady in Ponyville who I need to reconcile with. Can’t have her go thinking I’m some monster. I’d like to… kiss and make up.”

“Heh. Young love, eh?” Caution’s cot squeaked as he took a rest. “Wot’s her name?”

“Scootaloo.” Rhombus licked his lips. “Rolls off the tongue like honey.”

He touched down and leaned his elbow against the cell door. “So, how does one go about sealing the deal when it comes to fairies?”

“Ya just talk wi’ Merimna. He’s the actin’ Unseelie Court Princeling in these parts.”

“Princeling, you say?” Rhombus quirked an eyebrow. “So, does he visit, or…?”

“Nah. He’s been in the cell with ya the whole time.”

Rhombus frowned. He noted that the displacer had retreated to the back of his cell, out of sight. The donkey, too, had buried himself beneath his blanket. The temperature was an uncomfortable, clammy temperature. He thought part of that might have been his soggy coat, but…

He turned around and looked right through a decayed pony’s empty eye sockets.

The pegasus’ rump clanged against the bars of his cell. A startled, horrified cry burst unbidden from his throat. He fell to the floor and scrambled away from the apparition.

Merimna, Princeling of Equestria, bowed his head. Loose flaps of something dangled from his exposed skull. He wore a long overcoat with an open chest, through which Rhombus could see ribs encased in a tight layer of stretched skin. The fairy’s mouth opened, and a toneless hiss formed words out of the dark pit of his throat. “Rhombus. I have chosen you to be my champion.”

A rope wrapped around the fairy’s neck; a hangman’s noose with a frayed end. A wide-brimmed hat sat atop his head, ragged and rat-bitten. Two tiny glimmers of light appeared in Merimna’s eye sockets. “Do you accept fealty to the Unseelie Court?”

Rhombus swallowed hard and tried not to look at the way the fairy’s skin flaked off its bones. “Wh—what are the terms?”

“You obey me. You go where I tell you and slay who I chose.” Merimna tilted his head. “In return, I will give you all the mares, drink, music, and revenge you could ever desire.” The princeling extended a bony hoof. “Do you accept?”

Rhombus looked around at his tiny cell at the bottom of the sea. He stared at Merimna’s offered hoof for a good minute. “Those are the only terms?”

“I swear it.”

Rhombus felt a grin appear on his muzzle. Part of him said this was literally insane. The creature before him was a monster from the darkest nightmares. Evil in its entirety. He would be reduced to a weapon held in this creature’s hoof.

But in return…

He would have Scootaloo. He would be able to wipe the smug smile from Rumble’s face as he sliced the oversized idiot’s throat. He would have the chance to dangle Button Mash from a rather high place and watch him splat at the bottom.

Perhaps when he was done with Scootaloo, he’d have Sweetie Belle as well?

Rhombus smiled, gripped Merimna’s foreleg, and shook hard. “Hell’s teeth, I just can’t see a downside to that.”

***

The Garbled Transmission

Garble soared above the outskirts of the Cauldron, his keen eyes scanning for a particular purple blotch on the ground. He caught an updraft which carried him higher into the sky. He could never remember where the stupid hot spring was. Like he’d ever need it. He was Ember’s right-hand dragon. The chief of the rambunctious and rowdy group of thugs she tried to call an army. He was the toughest of the tough. The strongest of the strong.

Spike, though? That little pony pincushion? He could see Spike getting beat up enough to need months of healing in the pool. The wuss didn’t even have his wings yet. What a baby. What a loser.

Garble decided not to remember when Spike was first brought to the Cauldron. How the young dragon couldn’t even stand. How the wounds bled and the scales refused to come back together. How, for the briefest of moments, Garble was afraid Spike wouldn’t make it.

He shook his head. Spike was fine. Better than fine. He was going home within the week. No worries.

No. Worries.

He crested the top of a mountain near the border and found the young dragon. He soaked in the pool, speaking with a bunch of wimpy ponies who’d come to visit. Garble grimaced. He supposed they’d introduce themselves. He refused to memorize their names, though. He bet the brown one was called “Lollipop Kissywiggles” or something equally stupid.

His keen eyes caught something else, too. Something sparkled in the bushes some short distance away from the pool. Scales glinting in the sunlight. He caught a glimpse of a tail snaking its way around. Garble grinned and aimed his descent towards the hidden dragons.

He landed softly so as not to make noise. He grasped the tail and gave it a tug. The shriek was sudden, stifled with a claw over a mouth. A young dragoness—probably a little younger than Spike—spun on him, her eyes blazing with inner fire. Another, shorter female dragon poked her head out of the bushes, surprise the only emotion evident in her features.

“Grit. Bellow.” Garble placed his claws on his hips. He kept his voice low so that it didn’t carry to Spike and his pony friends. “What are you doing here?”

Gritilda slapped herself in her mint-green forehead. She waved a claw behind her, speaking as if to a toddler. “We’re spying on Spike. Helloooooo!”

Bellowski’s head frills fanned out as her cheeks lit up a bright purple. “Literally the hottest. Literally.”

“You gotta be—” Garble’s stomach churned with the realization. They actually found the wingless wonder attractive? “By the Creator, your standards are low.”

“Shut up, Garbage. He’s exotic.” Gritilda crossed her arms over her chest and snaked her tongue at him. “Maybe our standards are just different.”

Bellowski peered her head above the bushes, her claws grabbing the foliage tight enough to snap the branches. “We’ve watched him for six weeks straight now. He’s never once kicked a dog.”

Grit nodded as her tail swished behind her. “Never once burned down a tree with birds in it.”

“Never once crushed a bunny burrow with his bare hands.”

“Never once robbed a passing traveler blind.”

“He just sits in the pool and reads all day! And the books don’t even have pictures!” Bellow made two fists and brought them to her cheeks, shaking all the while. “He’s just so… rebellious!”

Garble stared at them for a good, long moment, his arms dangling limp at his sides. He could not think of a suitably-snide response to such a stupendously dumb sequence of statements. When he was younger, these dragons would have been laughed right out of the Cauldron. But that all changed after Spike—

Garble got an idea. An awful idea. All he’d have to do was drop a truth bomb.

“You could just walk up to Spike and talk with him,” he said, spreading his wings and leaning against a nearby rock. “He’s pretty much willing to make friends with anybody. He’ll probably even introduce you to his girlfriend.”

Bellow’s aura of reverence shattered first. “Girlfriend?”

“Sure, a whole bunch of his friends came to visit.” Garble feigned a sigh and stared over the bushes at the party of ponies and wannabe ponies. “He’s got his girlfriend over there right now.”

“Huh?” Grit spread her wings as she spun on the scene, her tail thrashing. “I don’t see a dragon—”

“You didn’t know?” Garble tried and failed to hide a snicker. “She’s the tall mare. The dude’s a ponysexual.”

Grit and Bellow looked at each other, their expressions ranging somewhere between confused and downcast. Bellow gagged and raced off with her hand over her mouth. Gritilda scowled at Garble with her frilly ears laid against her scalp. “You gotta be kidding.”

“Only wish I was, kiddo. The guy went native.” Garble shrugged and walked through the bushes, pushing them aside with a nonchalant gesture. “Set your sights on more realistic targets. Like Deathsaurus, Emperor of Destruction.”

“Eh?” Grit tilted her head to the side. “But Deathsaurus is just a mythical…” She narrowed her eyes and clenched her claws. “You butt-wipe.”

Garble grinned as she flew away, Bellowski in tow. With renewed vigor, he strode towards the pool, in plain eyeshot of the party of campers. His stomach soured when he saw Apple Bloom rub her muzzle against Spike’s, and wondered how those two chuckleheads had managed to miss the copious amount of mush that the happy couple engaged in.

“Good grief, get a cave, you two.” Garble hopped into the hot spring, drenching the nearby ponies with the splash. He spread his arms along the edge of the spring, taking a seat on the smooth stones beneath the surface. “You make me wanna hurl my lunch.”

Spike’s smile was small, longsuffering, and intensely familiar to Garble. “Yo, Garble. Nice to see you again.”

Garble flicked his wrist dismissively. “Good thing you found a pony girlfriend, cuz ain’t nobody here’d give you a second look.”

Spike and Apple Bloom exchanged a lidded look that told Garble he’d gone a little too far with that insult. Guess he’d apologize later. Maybe. “So, guys,” Spike said slowly, “this is my old buddy Garble. I met him during my first Dragon Migration.”

The gray pegasus, a musclebound lunk of a stallion, perked his ears up. “Oh yeah. The moron who tried to kill a nest of phoenixes, right?”

Spike’s small, understanding smile twisted. “Eeee, he’s gotten better…”

Garble threw a tiny stone that smacked Spike right between the eyes. “Yeah, this dummy’s rubbed off on me. I’m gettin’ soft in my old age.”

A white-coated unicorn mare frowned like a mother critiquing their daughter’s attire. “Better, huh?”

Garble rose, waving his hands. “Alright, alright, I didn’t come here to be judged by the Court of Pony Morality. I need your help on something, Spike.”

“Whoa.” Spike also stood, Apple Bloom backing away to let him up. “That’s not something I’d ever thought I’d hear from you.”

The purple dragon was still a head shorter than Garble, who had also grown stronger during the last few years. Garble prided himself on the fact that he was nearly as tall as a pony’s carriage. All the better to look down on his peers. His muscles rippled beneath his red scales as he crossed his forelegs.

“Desperate times, Spike.” Garble chewed his scaly lip. He looked away, furrowing his brow. “Look… Look, I think you’re literally the only person I know who can actually do something about this.”

“Spill it.” Spike’s face was the very picture of chivalrous confidence. Something deep in Garble’s heart chilled—he knew Spike would do anything in his power to help him. That frightened Garble. Nobody else in his life would think of sticking their necks out for him. Spike didn’t think like the other dragons. Not in the slightest. “I’ll do whatever I can.”

“Yeah, I know.” Garble spat a gout of flame. The smoke roiled and rolled as magic did its work. A scroll appeared out of thin air and landed in the palm of his claw. “So… the guys and I were just at Mount Aris, searching the ruins of Hippogriffia.” He unrolled the scroll and presented it to Spike. “We finally found something new. It was in Queen Novo’s old room, buried beneath the rubble.”

The picture was a hastily-drawn, yet surprisingly-accurate copy of the image Garble and his team had found. It was a circle of ink, broken up by lines that crisscrossed through the center. Layers and levels were built up in the thing, with writing in a strange language labelling the sections. At the top of the sketch, a smaller circle was empty of the confusing lines.

“Is it…” Spike scrunched his muzzle as he turned the page over. “Is it schematics, or a map?”

“Maybe both.” Garble pointed at the image, his breath short as his adrenaline pumped. “The queen kept this in a vault, man. The stone it was carved into is like, a bajillion years old. Shardscale says it predates the changeling empire.”

The brown earth pony peered over Spike’s shoulder. “A map to where?”

Garble paced around the pool, his thoughts racing, failing to land on any single thing. He figured it might help if he laid it out plain. “You guys know about the end of the Changeling Civil War, right?”

“I kinda know,” the orange pegasus mare said. “I know the Thorax and his changelings vanished just before the Equestrian army kicked the collective butt of Chrysalis’ changelings. Nobody knows where Thorax went.”

“Right.” The musclebound pegasus bobbed his head. “Thorax’s changelings were getting creamed so badly, most people just think they got routed.”

“Yeah, that part’s bunk.” Garble snatched the scroll out of Spike’s claws. “While Chrysalis was busy fighting the Equestrians, the hippogriffs were helping the changelings escape. Both kingdoms vanished without a trace.”

“Hippogriffs?” Apple Bloom sat at the edge of the water and popped some kinda pony snack into her mouth. Probably grass or hay or whatever. Veggie stuff. “Why were the Hippogriffs helping the changelings?”

Garble frowned, even deeper than before. Why was it so hard to talk about this? It happened almost a decade ago. He wasn’t even that close to what happened, but… “Two names: Silverstream and Ocellus.”

Apple Bloom pursed her lips. “Should I know those—”

“Two of Twilight’s students,” Spike said. “From the School of Friendship.”

Garble scratched his head. A few dead scales flaked off into the water. “Yeah. Queen Novo’s niece and some nobody from Thorax’s kingdom. Your princess’ school worked on them, at least. Them and four others all ran away from the school after it was shut down. When Chrysalis attacked, I guess Silverstream was able to convince Queen Novo to help.”

Spike sighed deep within his chest. “Gallus, Yona, Sandbar and…” He looked up at Garble, waiting for him to finish the list of lost students.

“Smolder.” Garble waved the scroll beneath Spike’s nose, his teeth scraping against each other. “This picture, whatever it is, is our last best chance to find out where my sister disappeared to seven years ago. Half of me wants to smack her upside the head and—” He let his arms droop alongside his wings. “Half of me just misses her.”

He sat in the pool, submerging himself up to his waist. He lit the scroll on fire and shunted it off to Nowhere, his private little pocket dimension. “So. You know somebody who can help me, or what?”

“So what you’re saying,” the white unicorn said, “is that we can find the other changelings, the hippogriffs, and the missing students all at once?”

Garble shrugged. “Unless somebody went splitsville.”

Spike nodded, cupping his chin with a claw. “Twilight will know what to do with the picture. If not, she’ll know who will. I promise we’ll help you find Smolder, Garble.” He extended a claw to the larger dragon, offering to help him to his feet. “Sounds like the start of an adventure.”

Garble took the offered hand. Spike hoisted him upward so that he could once again tower over the younger drake. “Thanks, pal. I owe you.” He snorted flame breath, causing all the ponies to jump back. “But if word gets out that I said so, I’m plundering Ponyville, got it?”

“Holy mackerel,” the orange pegasus said. “What the heck was this guy like before he mellowed?”

***

The End of the Age

Chrysalis the Last Queen walked up the stairs to the top of Castle Roc, where the Sunspear stood proudly. She clutched the Spade of Hearts tight to her chest. She refused to let the cursed object out of her sight until it was finally destroyed once and for all. She stepped into open air, where Commander Bugly and Crested Barbary were waiting for her.

Ahead, she could see Andean Ursagryph standing by the Sunspear, dressed in his best finery. Golden chains clasped red robes to his body, which swirled around his chest and left his wings free. A circlet lay on his head, at the front of which was a long, golden feather. Euroclydon sat at his side, within its enormous scabbard. His daughters—Corona wearing white and Stella a deep blue—flanked him on either side. Corona’s new spear lay across her back, while Stella’s ornate rapier sat in its sheath. The younger princess smiled, waving wildly at the queen.

Chrysalis looked to the side. A sizable crowd watched her closely. Leaders from many countries were in attendance; President Mangle from Beefland, High Pariah Seabreeze from Breezy Bastion, Judge Zipporah from Girraffrica, Dragon Lord Ember from the Cauldron, Prince Rutherford from Yakyakistan, and many others she had yet to meet. They had each been invited by Andean to bear witness to what she was about to do.

An anvil sat in the center of the makeshift arena. Chrysalis held the Spade of Hearts out for all to see. The curved blade glinted in the sunlight. The wrapped handle felt cold in her grip even in the heat of midday. The red pommel stone hummed with arcane magic that tried to connect with her own.

“This dagger,” she said, “represents the separation of changeling kind from the rest of the world. It represents a bygone day of oppression and suffering. When the sun was used as a weapon to hold the world in check. When the moon threatened frost every night. These two Celestial Objects are meant to bring life and joy to the world.”

Andean’s assured smile urged her on. Chrysalis raised the dagger higher, her wings spreading. “We stand here today united in a common cause. Not standing against a foe, but standing for an ideal. We are here because we believe the sun and moon are for everyone. We are here because we want to work together for a future where no one kingdom is able to hold the power of the Celestial Objects over anybody. We are here to make backup plans in case control over the sun and moon is lost, and make sure that it’s kept out of the hands of those who would abuse them.”

She set the Spade of Hearts on the anvil. She bowed her head as King Andean Ursagryph took center stage. He waved a talon at the assembled world leaders. “In the First Age,” he said, “the sun and moon were guided along their path by the Fae, the fair folk. When they grew too abusive, the changelings rose up and defeated them, and so the Second Age began. They, too, fell to their hubris. Since then, the Third Age has seen the ponies holding sole control over the Celestial Objects. Celestia has sought to be a fair ruler, but her time is long past.”

Chrysalis looked past the crowd to a shadow that should not have been visible under the noontide sun. A pair of sparkling blue eyes—Luna’s eyes—watched the proceedings. Even if she could not be in attendance, even if she could not reveal her influence, they had her blessing.

The king drew Euroclydon from its scabbard. He lay it on the ground before Chrysalis. She touched the hilt with her cloven hoof. The sword seemed to fall to pieces before coming together much smaller than before. It was light enough for her to lift easily, and the handle had become far better suited to her hoof. She felt the lightning of the blade flow through her body, energizing her every part.

She hefted the sword and swung it at the Spade of Hearts. Cracks appeared along its blade. Red magic seethed through the fractures. Another strike from Euroclydon damaged it further, but it held itself together with an arcane mixture of changeling magic and the power of the Elements of Harmony. She brought the sword down in a steady rhythm, hammering away at it with all the strength in her limbs.

The light of its evil magic grew brighter with each strike. Shockwaves of power radiated atop the spire of Castle Roc. Devilish magic crawled its way towards her, as if the dagger itself fought for its survival. She never let up, not for an instant. A final, mighty slice of the blade shattered the dagger into fragments with a bolt of lightning. When the dust cleared, she could see that the cast-iron anvil had been split in twain.

She slumped to her haunches, breathing heavily. Her ears rang with the echoes of the sword’s clanging beat. Euroclydon dropped to the floor and resized itself for Andean. The griffon king hoisted it above his head, pointing at the midday sun. His intense glare found the eyes of every leader in attendance, chilling them in the wake of the violent destruction of the artifact.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, his voice booming across the rooftops of Castle Roc, “welcome to the Fourth Age.”

Author's Note

This was a monumental story.

It took me three years to write due to how much my life changed over the course of writing it. New friends discovered and others bid farewell. The end of my schooling and the start of a new career. Striving for growth in certain areas, and fighting against regression in others.

Life is an adventure, a dive through danger. I hope that even though this was delivered at a slow drip, that it still held your interest. It was a story I had wanted to write for years and years, originally planned to be the third in the series.

But then DayBreak happened and we all see where that went. :pinkiehappy:

Now the series nears its end. With Rhythm and Rhyme complete, I shall soon continue working on In the Absence of Twilight Sparkle. Once that's over... we come to the final story in my The Heart's Promise series.

The title shall be none other than The Heart's Promise. Catchy title for an adventure, ain't it?

I'll work on making an updated timeline and post it in a blog sometimes soon. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this novel of a story. I know I did.

Excelsior,
MyHobby

The Specter of the Past

Daring Do trotted softly through the streets of Ponyville cloaked in a shawl, a large hat, and oversized spectacles. A.K. Yearling tended not to be recognized around town as readily as Daring Do, and today, she didn’t have time for another enthusiastic fan to compliment her for her spot-on “cosplay.” Today, she needed to be quick to get back to Canterlot in time for the gala. But there were still things that needed taking care of.

She glanced at the castle growing out of the midst of town. The silly thing was as inviting as ever, and it would have been nice to visit with Sparkle, Velvet, and Spike, but she’d see them soon enough. Her mission took her in a different direction, more towards downtown. She hunched her head down to appear smaller than her athletic, powerful body actually did. For all intents and appearances, she was a little old lady visiting Ponyville for the first time, in awe at the regality of the castle and the charm of Mane Street.

She came to a small shop at the end of the street. Her heart warmed about ten degrees when she read the sign: Dinky’s Clock Shop (and mechanical curiosities). A bell jingled as she stepped through the door, and an old radio played a slightly-crackly song from the corner. A display case contained pocket watches big and small, while larger clocks ticked away from their positions hanging from the walls or standing free. A table in the center of the shop held a variety of clockwork toys, from dancing ponies to hopping birds to musical boxes.

A lanky mare stumbled in from the back room, her hooves covered in grease and her goggles dark from a welding torch’s flame. “Hello! Welcome to Dinky’s Clo—Daring!”

Daring Do held a hoof to her lips. “Shh. I’m incognito right now.”

“Miss Yearling!” Dinky put a grimy hoof to her chin. “A.K.? Amber? Amber Kestrel? What am I supposed to call you, then?”

Daring snorted. “Heck if I know, kiddo. Gimme a hoof with this.”

She turned to the side and unzipped a hefty saddlebag. A metallic box lay in the bottom, with various pipes and wires hanging off it. Dinky’s horn flashed, pulling the box from the bag and setting it on the countertop. The bronze color of the metal glinted in the light of the shop’s lamps.

“Got this from the changeling city. Looks motorized, so I thought you’d be able to tell me something about it.” Daring leaned on the watch display case to rest her knees. “What’s it made of?”

“Dunno. I’ve never seen this before. Looks bronze, but…” Dinky lowered her goggles and squinted. She twisted a dial near her ear, then shook her head. “There’s definitely something else in there besides copper and nickel. For one thing, it hasn’t turned green with age.”

She lifted the object with a spell and swiveled it about, looking at it from every angle. “It’s some sort of motor, that’s for sure. No springs, so it’s got an outside power source. Looks like it transfers… magical resistance into circular motion. Liiike… so!”

Dinky touched two of the wires together and sent a stronger charge of magic into the device. The gears ground and sputtered as one of the protrusions spun. “Looks like it required a direct magical current, sustained, in order to continue to move. No enchantments, so they aren’t run by come-to-life spells. Maybe these were made before come-to-life spells became a big deal.”

“That sounds right,” Daring said. “These are supposed to be two-thousand years old.”

“Two-thou—” Dinky lifted her goggles and set the device gently on the countertop. “And you’re letting me touch it?”

“What can I say? I trust you.” Daring glanced behind her shoulder. She pulled her glasses down to look over them. “You hold onto it and tell me if you find anything out about it. What it’s made of, what it’s for, that sorta thing. I’m not sticking around town for long, but I should be back before the end of the month.”

Dinky saluted. “Yessir, Miss Yearling, sir.”

Daring pulled her pocket watch out from behind her shirt. She laid it on the table and slid it towards Dinky. “My watch’s been kinda slow, lately. Can you take a look?”

“With pleasure.” Dinky lifted the ancient device and the timepiece side-by-side. She pushed the door to the back room open with a hind leg. “Wanna come in back? I’ve got crackers.”

“How can I say no to crackers?” Daring hung the oversized hat on the coatrack and trotted deeper into the shop. Beyond the customer showroom was a dark room filled to the brim with clocks in various states of disrepair. A grandfather clock rested against the wall, gutted of its inner workings. A cuckoo clock wheezed out a faint call.

In the center of the room, Dinky took a seat at a metal tabled with a grated top. She popped open the watch and took a second to admire the photo of Daring Do and Time Turner. “He never seemed to age, you know? Thought he’d be with us forever.”

Daring Do took a seat opposite Dinky. Soot got all over the front of her shawl, but she didn’t care. “Yeah. Most people feel like that. You can’t really imagine life without them until…”

She grabbed a few saltine crackers from a bag Dinky hovered near her nose. She munched away as Dinky examined the pocket watch. “Well, horseapples happen.”

She leaned against the grated table. “So how’s ‘Muffins’? She holding up after all this time?”

Dinky smirked. “You know he came up with that nickname, right?”

Daring barked a tiny laugh. “I figured as much.”

“Mom’s doing as well as I’d expect. Maybe better.” The backpiece came off of the watch, revealing the complex innerworkings. Gears overlapped with springs and levers, while tumblers kept time. “She dove into her work pretty hard. People say it’s part of her grief cycle. Like when she lost my dad.”

“I’ll stop by and see her next time I’m in town.” Daring shrugged her wings. A dose of ambrosia had taken the brunt of the pain away, allowing slight movements to not be eternally agonizing. It was like going through physical therapy all over again. “She has a way of making you smile even when she’s not feeling her best.”

Dinky tightened a screw, licking her lips. Her horn flickered as she tested a miniature spring hidden behind a gear. “She’d like that a lot.”

Daring bobbed her head. “And you? Still hanging out with that ne’er-do-well Pip?”

“You hush up.” Dinky closed the watch up and held it beside her ear. She counted down the seconds, then nodded approval. “I’ll have you know he’s started shopping for a house all his own. Before you know it, he’s gonna be a self-made stallion.”

Daring took the watch back and hung it about her neck. The familiar heartbeat of the timepiece dovetailed with her own. “Issat so? How long do you think it’ll be before he can afford the engagement ring he promised you?”

Dinky continued to smile, even if her ears drooped slightly. “Sooner than you’d expect, longer than I’d hoped.”

“I’m just pulling your leg, Dinkster.” Daring Do stood up and polished off the last cracker. “I’m real sorry to eat and run, but I’ve got—eugh—a public appearance to make.”

“We’ll be here when you get back.” Dinky yawned and stretched her back out. She snuck a cracker into her mouth and bobbed her head. “With a good old fashioned homemade meal to greet you.”

“I appreciate it. I appreciate you guys.” Daring Do made her way to the exit. She popped the watch out to check the time.

Time Turner smiled at her from behind the watch hands. He hugged her tight in that moment that seemed so long ago. Her eyes slipped to her image, bereft of pith helmet, but bedecked in her signature smirk. Frozen in time, holding on to happiness.

“Hay, Dinkster…” Daring Do spread a wing and tucked the watch away. “Do you know… Well, I guess what I wanna ask is ‘What do you think about stars and ponies?’”

Dinky pulled the goggles from her head and hung them from the wall. “I believe that the stars are the dreams of ponies living and dead. That’s how the story goes, anyway. My mom and I would watch the stars when I was younger, and try to guess who they were.”

Daring sighed, deep and long. “Still sounds kinda fantastic to me.”

“It’s pretty fantastic.” Dinky went to the large sink mounted to the back wall and poured soap over her hooves. “Time Turner believed it, though.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. He always said it was important to remember that we’re luminous beings. Not this crude matter.” Dinky scrubbed away, a wistfulness entering her f and her eyes. “He was never really afraid of death, just annoyed by it. ‘I don’t have time for this rubbish,’ he would say. ‘I have stuff to get done!’ He always told me that no matter who or what tried to harm your body, you would still live on. You were untouchable.”

She looked at her reflection and groaned at the bags under her eyes. “That was before I learned that the soul could hurt, too.”

Dinky Doo, tall and lanky, tossed a hoof and flicked water across the room. “I guess I gotta believe it, because that means someday I’ll see him again. I gotta believe it because it’s all that keeps me from becoming a blubbering wreck.”

Daring Do felt the watch tick beneath her hoof. She gave Dinky a nod and backed out of the room. “Thanks, Dinky. For everything.”

“Any time you need something,” Dinky said, “you just need to ask.”

With nothing else to say, Daring Do left the clock shop and headed for the train station.

***

Flurry Heart followed behind Pinkie Pie as she led them on a tour through Ponyville, using a path that made logical sense only to the silly mare herself. A moment over here to view the park, a stop over there to discuss the local Hayburger’s historic importance, a scramble around city hall to avoid the protestors, and on it went. There was little opportunity to investigate the shady activities of Merry Mare, and less opportunity to mull over recent revelations.

She could almost forget her woes while spending time with Pinkie. The mare’s energy was contagious, and her giggle a downright pandemic. Stella was absolutely lost in glee, her chirped words only occasionally making the translation to Equish. Silver Lance kept his steady, calm smile, answering Stella’s questions whenever he could understand them. Twilight Amore flew above them, directing Stella’s and Silver’s attention whenever she spotted something funny.

Corona trailed behind their procession. She smiled, the same as everybody, but it failed to reflect the luster of Pinkie Pie’s. She caught Flurry’s eye and shook her head slightly. “Careful,” she whispered, “people are gonna wonder why you’re frowning.”

“I’m not frowning,” Flurry said, pulling the edges of her mouth upward. “I’m thinking. Which is hard right now.”

“And there’s the schoolhouse!” Pinkie Pie said as if it was the most amazing discovery since the Tree of Harmony. “The center for arts and learning for Ponyville’s younger folks. In days past, all the foals of Ponyville could be educated in one room by Mrs. Cheerilee, with different grades being taught at different times. However, since we became a town back in 1005 C.E., we had to expand the building and our staff of teachers.”

“I’m in heaven!” Stella twittered.

Flurry shrugged her shoulders. “We can’t really investigate Merry Mare in any practical way right now. We’re stuck.”

“Just keep your eyes and ears alert.” Corona combed her talons through her fur. Her eagle eyes narrowed in on somepony or another. “Maybe we’ll see her walking around. Buying something suspicious, meeting creepy people for nefarious deeds, jaywalking, something.”

Corona glanced over her shoulder, moving her feet quickly to keep up with Pinkie’s continual hop. “We’ll get to the bottom of this dream. I know it.”

“And that’s Ponyville!” Pinkie bowed until her forehead brushed the dirt road to Sweet Apple Acres. “A land of history, heart, and heavenly food!” She popped up, her eyebrows dancing. “So how’s about sampling the local cuisine?”

Twilight Amore glanced to the left and right, her eyebrows lowering. “You mean Sugarcube Corner, right? I think that’s code for Sugarcube Corner.”

“Rightaroonie!” Pinkie covered one side of her mouth. “No sense wasting this opportunity to put the test to the best.”

It was a quick jaunt to the establishment, as Sugarcube Corner’s centralized location put it within easy walking distance of anywhere in Ponyville. The gingerbread house-shaped business and home looked good enough to eat all by itself, at least until Flurry was close enough to see that the frosting was painted on. She saw Spike and Apple Bloom leaving with ice cream cones held tight, and almost called out, but didn’t want to draw too much attention to herself. At least, not more attention than her oversized wings, royalty, and general alicornness already drew. The bell over the door chimed as the six of them walked in, and was answered with halloos from behind the counter.

Cup Cake smiled at their approach. “How’s it goin’, dearies? What can I get yah?”

“Only the best, most excellent in pastries!” Pinkie Pie hopped up to the counter and gave cup a quick half-hug. “So what’ll it be, kids? Doughnuts? Ice Cream? Eclairs? Cake?”

Cup gave the griffon girls a double-take. “Oh my. Flurry, Amore, and Lance I know, but who might you be?”

While Pinkie made introductions, Flurry took a glance around the place. It was a lovely little bakery, well kept, clean, and smelling of divine baked goods. A highlight every time she was able to visit Ponyville. In this atmosphere, with this company, her worries vanished into the background noise.

“Eat something, Glasses. Forget the stallion and let’s just chill.”

Flurry’s eyes drifted to a couple sitting in the far corner of the room. A young mare, probably in her late teens, reached across the table to push a plate closer to her coltfriend. He hunched over, his hoof clutching at his ear, his eyes red. His leather jacket hung from his back, slightly tattered at the seams.

“Sorry, Truly,” Glasses muttered. He gazed at nothing, his voice a dull monotone. “I’ll take it home. I don’t feel like it right now.”

He moved his hoof away from his head, revealing that his ear had been torn in twain. Flurry Heart blushed and looked away, her own ear burning with phantom pain. She walked back to Pinkie and company, her gut churning.

“If you want to go to the bar again tonight, you can’t do it on an empty stomach!”

“I know, Truly. It’s fine.”

“Have you even eaten since Wednesday?”

Flurry Heart felt like she hadn’t eaten since Wednesday. She felt like she hadn’t wanted to either. Seems she wasn’t the only one to have a pretty grody week.

Pinkie opened her mouth with a large smile, but paused mid-word when she saw the expression on Flurry’s face. She continued with a gentler smile, something sad behind her eyes. “Would you like something, Flurry?”

“Um.” Flurry pushed the stallion and his girlfriend from her mind. Like shoveling heavy snow. “A chocolate-filled cupcake, please. Or—or actually a strawberry filled one.”

“Comin’ right up, sugar plumb.” Cup called over her shoulder. “Pound! Would ya start on a batch of cupcakes? Strawberry filled!”

“Yes, mom!”

Cup Cake smiled. “We should have that filled up for you in just a couple minutes.”

Corona bowed at the neck. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Pinkie reached into her light saddlebags to pull out a bit purse, but Cup stopped her. “It’s on the house, Pinkie.”

Pinkie tilted her head. “If you insist.”

Flurry smiled as politely as she could, then took a step towards a table to wait. Her wings got away from her and nearly took another pony out at the knees. “Sorry, sir.”

“That’s alright, Your Highness.” The pony smiled at her with a face that reminded her way too much of a rat about to eat cheese. “I need to watch where I’m going.”

Cup Cake addressed her new customer with ears perked. “Hello, Scuttlebutt. Here for your usual?”

“Absolutely.” He walked up to the counter with his bits at the ready. “A dozen candy cookies.”

“We’ll get that right up for yah.” Cup Cake counted the bits and slid them into the cash register with a cha-ching.

Pinkie leaned on the display case and grinned in the most unsubtle way possible to Scuttlebutt. “Cookies for your visit with Merry Mare, hmm?”

“Of course.” Scuttlebutt was a tiny little pony, barely taller than Flurry herself. His thin mane hung over his ears and down his neck, while his tail swished back and forth in a strange little dance. “It wouldn’t be an afternoon without them.”

“Mm hmm.” Pinkie winked. “And between the weekly cookie sessions and the tea time, I’m sure the two of you keep things strictly professional.”

“Well…” A touch of color reached Scuttlebutt’s face as he rubbed his throat. “‘Professional’ is maybe a strong word for it.”

The box came forth, and Scuttlebutt placed it on his back. “Thank you. See you sometime soon, Miss Pie.”

“Later, Scutts!” Pinkie waved, and was quickly distracted by a pile of delicious baked goods floating her way. “Ooh, you outdid yourself this time, Pound!”

Flurry found her attention drawn to the creepy little pony walking away from the counter. He paused by the table holding Glasses and Truly and placed a hoof beside the young stallion. “I hope we’ll see you at the bar tonight, Glasses. I know the other guys are looking forward to it.”

Glasses squirmed in his seat, not looking the littler pony in the eye. “I might have stuff I need to do.”

“Come now, it’ll be fun.” Scuttlebutt slapped a hoof on Glasses’ shoulder. Show us how the darts fly, and I’ll let you try the new drink mix I’ve brewed up.”

Glasses hunched over. “Well, I guess—”

Truly lowered her eyebrows. “Glasses…”

“Come on, Truly. I’ll eat later. It’s just fine.”

“But—”

“It’s fine.”

Flurry shook her head and took a chair. At the edge of her hearing, she caught Cup Cake’s whisper to Pinkie. “Oh, I hope the two of them get together. Merry’s been so lonely since Poni left her.”

Corona took the seat next to Flurry. She held her beak tight with her talon, only slacking her grip to let a few words out. “They… really don’t make many ponies like him, do they?”

Flurry shook her head.

Scuttlebutt left the store with a jingle that belied the unease in Flurry’s heart.

“He wasn’t a pony,” Silver Lance said. “His magic was all wrong.”

Flurry rolled her eyes and turned to her little brother, ready to tell him that of course he was a pony and that everypony’s magic was a little different. When she saw his face, all protests were crushed by sudden silence. The young colt’s cheeks were pale, lacking their usual silvery luster. His pupils shrank alongside his mouth. His ears hung limp from the sides of his head.

The boy was terrified.

Corona leaned close to the boy, narrowing her eyes. “What makes you say that? He looks like a pony, acts like a pony, lives in pony society—”

“Inside.” Silver swallowed hard. “I—inside, his heart, I can feel it. It’s slimy, shriveled, clammy.”

Twilight Amore rubbed the top of his head. “I don’t feel anything but hungry, Lance.”

Stella examined the tip of his horn with a twitch of her talon. “What’s wrong? You got some sorta evil detector in there?”

“No, I don’t.” Silver Lance rubbed his nose, forcing his breathing to slow down. “I—I just get these feelings sometimes. When… when ponies are happy or sad. Or angry. Merry Mare was very angry. Scuttlebutt was—was hungry in a weird way. And Flu—and Aunt Twilight gets really sad sometimes.”

He lay his chin on the table, all eyes on his shivering shoulders. “I know you guys can’t feel it, and you probably don’t believe me, but—”

“I believe you!” Stella said.

“Huh?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” She shrugged. “Maybe it’s your super-special talent.”

“But—” Silver Lance glanced her way before averting his eyes. “But nopony else can do it.”

Corona teased the feathers of one red-tipped wing between her talons. “It kinda sounds like what the changelings can do. Sense emotions and things like that.”

“But I’m not a changeling.” Silver attention was drawn to the young couple at the other table, who were standing up to leave. Glasses and Truly walked slowly, her foreleg wrapped around his, until they left the store with a jingle far more merry than they. Silver swallowed the dryness in his throat.

Flurry Heart checked on Pinkie; she and Mrs. Cake were still blabbing it up. She leaned close to her little brother. “What do you feel with them?”

“Emptiness.” Silver’s cheeks heated up. “Somepony emptied him. And I think maybe Scuttlebutt had something to do with it.”

Twilight Amore propped her cheek on a hoof and fanned her wings. “You wanna call that a lead, sis?”

“Empty stallions, hungry not-a-ponies, evil former mayors…” Flurry gave them a tiny grin as their desserts drew near. “Let’s find out how deep the hole goes.”

***

Blankety Blank splashed water on his face as he neared the end of his grooming routine. A hoof towel dug its way into his ear, while a fresh spray of water nicked away the last of the soap. A real bed, a hot shower, a full-length mirror; these were rarities in the life of the adventure-prone. Steam from his way-too-long shower filled his guest room in the castle. He wiped down the mirror and only succeeded in blurring the image further.

He looked over his white-on-white visage past the streaks. Pink eyes shone from beneath furrowed eyebrows. Whiskers protruded from his chin in erratic lengths—soon to be trimmed to their proper size. He ruffled his short mane and flicked moisture from his tail.

He could have finished it all in an instant with a transformation spell, but it was always best to keep the changeling magic to a minimum when visiting Canterlot. If the legends surrounding changelings weren’t enough, the two attacks in as many years were still in recent memory. Counselors had made a living helping the traumatized to heal, to move on.

It didn’t matter that the tiny changeling once known as Mandible was nowhere near the attack. It didn’t matter that he had long ago left the hive and joined Equestria with his heart and soul. It didn’t matter that he had taken the name Blankety Blank and served the princesses faithfully for seven years.

“Creatures hiding in the dark,” he muttered. “Hoping nopony squishes us.”

“Where my sanctuary is, so too goes my influence.”

He shook his head, emptying his mind of his conversation with the changeling queen’s ghost. That was the last thing he needed to carry into his little mini-vacation. He had more pleasant and important things to think about. He could visit the library for a few good books. He could help Daring with research. He could train up his swordsmanship with Martial. He could visit with Care Carrot if she was in town…

He hoped she was in town. It’d been a long time since they’d had the opportunity to spend time together. Nearly two years, in fact. They hadn’t seen each other since they’d managed to defeat Hurricane together.

A knock jolted him out of his reverie. Martial Paw’s voice hailed from the far side of the door. “Blankety! Message from the princesses!”

Blankety opened the door with a kick. He yawned as he walked into the sitting room portion of his suite, giving Martial a smile. “What’s up?”

“I’m afraid our vacation has been cut short.” Martial pinched his talons together. “Slightly.”

An ache made itself felt between Blankety’s shoulder blades. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with the side of his hoof. “Might as well spill it.”

“Ahuizotl is the least of our worries.” Martial Paw passed a small scroll to Blank. “Insofar as he’s currently unreachable.”

Blankety perused the letter, his ears drooping. Kidnapping, attempted murder, vicious brawls. “Caballeron’s b-back from the shadows.”

“That about sums it up.” Martial gripped the handle of his rapier tightly. Tightly enough, in fact, to whiten his knuckles. “Which means our mission has changed. We’re to assist with tracking down and rescuing these young ladies, while putting Caballeron in his place.”

Blankety noted the steely look in his friend’s eyes. “You don’t wanna go?”

“It seems… disproportionate.” Martial Paw scratched the back of his head and took a seat. His rapier’s scabbard clattered against the chair’s wooden leg. “Ahuizotl is the type of threat that could destroy the planet. Lest we forget that the sun is a rather important artifact to keep under control. Meanwhile, I can’t…” He lowered his eyebrows, drumming his talons against an armrest. He turned away from Blank as his left ear twitched. “I can’t see two young mares being important enough to break off the chase.”

Blankety touched a hoof to the swirling, flowery script on the scroll. It was a familiar horn writing style, one that he’d had the pleasure of reading many times in his life. “M-Martial, these orders come st-st-straight from Celestia.”

Martial nodded briefly. Blank tasted a special sort of agony drifting off the griffon—a deep anxiety hailing from the tightening muscles in his shoulders. Conflict battling for dominance behind his eyes that smelled of rotten apples. A twitch in his wings with the sour taste of an uncertain destination.

Blankety Blank bumped his fetlock against Martial’s shoulder. “And I’m p-pretty sure she has her p-p-priorities in their p-proper order.”

Martial Paw clicked his beak. “I’m less certain. Ahuizotl is the greater threat and should be dealt with first.”

Blankety sighed. He hung his towel across the back of the bathroom door. He trotted to his little cooler in the corner. “Want something to drink? I’ve got f-f-fizzy cordial.”

“Cherry, please.” Martial leaned back and forced his muscles to relax. Judging by the bitter flavor of his emotions, it wasn’t quite working. “We shouldn’t be ignoring him like this.”

“W-we’re not.” Blankety passed him a bottle and held one tight for himself. He snuck it beneath the blade of a bottle opener and uncovered the sweet drink. “We hit a d-d-dead end, Daring said so herself. Th-this is important, and definitely Daring’s expertise.”

Martial opened his bottle with the curve of his beak. He spat the bottle cap across the room and straight into Blankety’s recycling bin. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it. I just have to follow along.”

The cordial fizzed delightfully across Blankety’s tongue. It made his ears perk up and sent his nose twitching. “A f-f-friend of mine, Care Carrot, said something once… Although I think she heard it from Lady Velvet.”

Martial turned an ear to face him even as he guzzled his fizz.

“Don’t fight against something bad,” Blankety Blank raised an eyebrow. “Fight for something good.”

Martial snorted, then covered his nostrils as the bubbles invaded his sinuses. Tears leaked from his eyes. “Oof.” He shook off the effects and gave Blank a dim glance. “Sometimes evil things need to be destroyed.”

“And sometimes g-good things need to be protected.” Blank shrugged. “This is that time.”

Martial stood up and wandered over to the window. He unclasped the pathway onto the balcony and stepped into open air. “Fair warning; Celestia has also cordially invited us to come to the Cloudsdale charity gala. We’re expected to show up in our Sunday Sunrise best.”

“A party.” Blankety Blank shivered as he curled in on himself. “How delightful.”

“You’ll be fine.” Martial Paw climbed onto the balcony rail and shot Blank a faux salute. “Just put on your best face.”

He fell backwards off the rail and swooped into a glide. His wings locked at their full length, only occasionally pulling him upward with strong flaps. Blankety Blank leaned on the rail and looked out over the courtyard, where flowers bloomed from a single large tree at the center. A short distance away he could see the building where the gala would be held in the castle’s largest ballroom. By his reckoning, he had only a few short hours before he was expected.

He supposed the vacation would have to come later. More’s the pity.

***

“Are you mad?”

The question was not asked in anger, but was voiced with a slight hint of bewildered curiosity. Celestia glanced over her shoulder to spy Andean Ursagryph tapping his talons against the hilt of his mighty broadsword.

She was mere millimeters from disappearing into her room to prepare for the gala. Mere millimeters from freedom. Mere millimeters from leaving behind the griffon king’s accusatory glare. “I’ve been called such, but I suspect we’re all a little mad.”

“Don’t be coy, Your Majesty.” Andean lumbered forward, his wings folded loosely across his back to prevent him from knocking over the potted plants hanging on either side of the hall. “We both know how great a threat to the world Ahuizotl is. And yet here you are, satisfying your vain hero complex.”

Celestia inclined her head and spun, putting herself eye-to-eye with the king. “Andean Ursagryph, if you wish to pursue Ahuizotl with no leads, no support, and no idea of his plans, then please be my guest. If not, then I shall continue to patently ignore your grumblings and save two young mares who are very dear to me. Thank you.”

Andean narrowed his gaze, turning his head to the side so that one wide-set eye could look directly at Celestia. “What are Sweetie Belle and Scoot-a-loo to you?”

Celestia sucked lightly on the inside of her cheek. She corrected one ear before it could droop, and left her mask of serenity firmly in place. “You were all but willing to start a war to save Stella’s life, were you not?”

His talons scraped light furrows in the marbled floor. “Of course. She’s my daughter. We are both quite blessed that it never came to that.”

“I agree.” Celestia took a deep breath. She felt something odd in her chest and cleared her throat. It must have been her heart rate spiking due to the stress she always associated with King Andean. The tension in her shoulders was certainly an ever-present symptom of his company. “Excuse me. My point is that while I was never a parent—a mother—I am not without love for the ponies I come across. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo are two very dear ponies to me. Two ponies who contain a spark of goodness that is so wonderful to me in these trying times. Like you, I shall protect the ones I love.”

Andean’s beak ground together. “Even to the detriment of your country?”

“It will not come to that, Your Grace.” She half-spread her wings; mostly on instinct, but also to display that she brooked no argument from him. “Besides, an individual who would dare kidnap somepony so close to the Bearers of the Elements… well, someone capable of that must be put down immediately. That is as real a threat to national and international security as Ahuizotl will ever be.”

He shook his head. “But to put the entire investigation on hold—”

“It’s a temporary measure for extraordinary circumstances.” Celestia bowed at the neck. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have to get ready for the gala.”

She turned back without another word and put her hoof to the door. Before she could enter, a swirl of smoke danced its way before her nose. It sparked and coalesced before her eyes, the smoke becoming ashes, the ashes becoming paper and ink. She caught the resulting scroll in a bubble of magic and unfurled it.

“Well,” she said. “That’s convenient.”

She smirked as she showed Andean the scroll from over her shoulder. “My agents in Dodge Junction made a vital discovery. It appears that Caballeron is working with Ahuizotl himself. Seems that two problems have become one.”

Andean’s eyes darkened. “Be careful Celestia. Continue to put the desires of your heart over the fate of your country, and you may not be so lucky next time.”

Celestia pressed her lips together. “Luckily for Equestria, my desire is to see my country and my people prosperous and secure.”

Andean Ursagryph shook his head. He backed away, his talon finally leaving the hilt of his sword. “May it remain so, Your Majesty. May. It. Remain. So.”

***

“Now there’s a mare that I did fear… I’d never meet in a thousand—hurck!—years…”

Rhombus stumbled into the cavern, his four legs going six different directions. He collapsed onto his cot, his blue mane a mess about his face. He rolled over and faced the ceiling.

He found himself face-to-face with Dr. Caballeron.

“Ruuu—” Rhombus tumbled from his bed and onto the stone floor. “What’s your problem? I’m just takin’ my evening sabbatical.”

“You jack-mule.” Caballeron kicked dirt into Rhombus’ face. “Stand up.”

Rhombus took a great deal more time to stand up than he would have liked. He squared his hooves, spread his wings for balance, and finally brought his eyes up to meet his employer.

Caballeron’s stern eyebrows came together on his forehead. “You got into a bar fight again.”

Rhombus cracked a grin. “They had it com—”

“You got into a fight!” Caballeron’s voice echoed in Rhombus’ ears, tearing its way through his brain and reverberating across his spine. “In the largest! Frontier city! In Equestria!”

Rhombus backed away, but only got two steps. His rump bumped against the impassable chest of Kiln, who looked down on him with a disapproving glower.

A vein bulged on Caballeron’s neck as he drew close enough that Rhombus could feel his hot breath on his nose. Rhombus tilted his head away. “Listen, I—”

“You left the cavern.” Caballeron hit Rhombus’ chest with just enough force to shut him up. “Went into a populated area. Drank and made merry. Started a fight. All when your face is one of the most sought-after in Equestria!”

Rhombus coughed, nearly vomiting, but he was able to hold it down. “I left no trace of myself, and the warehouse only has cheap trinkets in it. There’s nothing to lead them here.”

Caballeron grabbed him by the shoulders and shook. “If there’s any chance you led the Royal Guard here, then Ahuizotl will kill you, and me, and Kiln, and everybody else he thinks is even slightly involved. Do you understand just how badly you screwed up?”

The doctor dropped Rhombus and cantered away. He checked a small, pyramid-shaped device set in the corner of the cavern—a sound dampener of ridiculously high quality. The edges of the room shimmered with a soft magic sparkle, and the device hummed to match.

“Our time is short,” he said. “Partially due to our young friend here—” He sneered at Rhombus. “—but also because Ahuizotl’s plans near completion. I think we can all rest assured that his promise to us is going to go unfulfilled?”

“Nae doubt in me mind.” Kiln took a seat and munched on hardtack. The plain hard bread left a sour expression on his face. “The blackguard’s usin’ us as keenly as ever. We’ll see nae sign of repayment in this life.”

Rhombus chuckled and spread his wings. Glinting bits of razor-sharp metal flashed in the low light. “I’d like to wipe the self-satisfaction off of Dissero’s face.”

“We’re not here to fight the Painted Ones. Or Ahuizotl.” Caballeron brought his hooves together beneath his chin. “You’ve seen the bag Ahuizotl wears on his side?”

Rhombus leaned forward. His eyes crossed, and he had to blink several times before he could give Caballeron his full attention. “The one with Scootaloo’s heart in it?”

Kiln bopped him on the back of the head. “Keep yer head on yer shoulders.”

“Shut up, Kill.” Rhombus chuckled to himself as he crossed his forelegs. “So, Poni, you think he’s keeping your heart in the same bag?”

Caballeron sent an extra glance at the dampener. Satisfied, he nodded. “I’ve looked in the main chamber and never found the heart among the others. I’ve not seen Dissero or any of the other Painted Ones carrying hearts. None of Ahuizotl’s machines contained it. If Ahuizotl doesn’t have it, I don’t know where it could be.”

Kiln touched a hoof to Caballeron’s shoulder. “An’ once we have the heart, we can leave Ahuizotl behind forever?”

Caballeron touched his hoof to Kiln’s. “Exactly. This is the last job, gentleponies.” He gave Rhombus a grim look. “I want all of us to be operating at peak efficiency, Rhombus. Can I expect that from you?”

“Give me a cup of coffee and I’ll sober right up.” A wingblade flew up from one of Rhombus’ wings and landed amidst the feather of the other. “And doubly-so, if I can rescue Scootaloo at the same time.”

Kiln growled deep in his throat. “She’ll never give her heart to ye, ye daffy colt.”

“Well then,” Rhombus said, flashing Caballeron and Kiln a wink, “I’ll see if I can’t just steal it.”

The Motherless, the Fatherless, and the Childless

Cadence stared at the changeling girl standing before them. She felt dead, if she was being honest. One too many things added up all at the same time. A young changeling queen, birthed by Chrysalis, twelve years previously.

She had Shining Armor’s eyes. Lovely blue things, shining like crystalline tears in the midst of an armor-plated face. Framed by stringy blue hair that hung like spiderwebs from her head. Her wings, too, shone a faint blue and became white at the edges.

She was Shining Armor’s eldest daughter.

“H-how?” Shining’s voice hissed in the back of his throat. “How did this happen? We… we were…”

Cadence and Shining had been chaste before the wedding. Illegitimate children would have faced horrible ridicule. Illegitimate offspring of the Noble House of Sparkle, even more so. To say nothing of a princess of Equestria. They wanted to protect their children from that. They wanted to protect themselves from the political scandal.

More importantly, there was something they wanted to share only with one another. Something special. A unique bond.

Chrysalis… what had Chrysalis The Tyrant done?

“Sh-she used her magic.” Chrysalis’ daughter sniffled as her countenance drooped. Each word moved harder than the last. “She wouldn’t let you think clearly.” Her eyes clenched tight in a frightful sob. “But she’s dead and she can’t hurt you anymore and I’m so sorry!”

Celestia shifted from her spot by the window. She approached the queen, a hoof lifted regally. Her expression, though, was hesitant. She opened her mouth, but found herself at a loss for words. She waited too long to say something.

Luna’s ears twitched as an airship took off. “I must go. If we are to catch Ahuizotl…” She left without another sound.

Chrysalis II fell to her knees. She bowed her head at Shining, who could do nothing but gape. “Ch-changeling queens can only c-come from a changeling and pony union. She wanted… she wanted hives…” She shook her head violently. “I couldn’t let her! I couldn’t! I’m sorry!”

Cadence watched the child sob. She couldn’t process this. Shining Armor, always strong and steadfast, had not moved. Cadence looked to Celestia in a last-ditch attempt to break free from the agonizing pain in the room.

The High Princess wrinkled her brow. “I believe we all need some time to think.”

Chrysalis’ answer came as a hushed “I’m sorry,” repeated over and over and over again.

Shining took in a breath. A few moments later, he remembered to let it out. He gave the door a brief glance. “No.”

He reached down and cupped his hooves to the sides of Chrysalis’ head. He kept his voice low, as warm as he could through the tightness in his throat. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything bad. It’s going to be okay, Chr—” He tried to force her name out, but failed. “It’s going to be alright. You don’t need to be hurt anymore.”

Chrysalis cried out, like her heart was being compressed. She pawed at his hooves to bat them away, but without any real strength. Before long, she simply collapsed into his forelegs.

“I’m here,” he choked out. “If I knew sooner…”

He and Cadence locked eyes. He silently pleaded with her for help. To join the two of them. To comfort the lost child.

Cadence saw her husband holding a changeling child. A chilling fear swept up and down her body, inciting her legs to charge, to flee, to trample. She had to get out of the room. She had to get away from the changeling. She had to give herself space to breathe, to think. She fled.

She found herself in their suite. She found their bed and lay down, covering herself with blankets and pillows until she was sure she was safe. Even then, there was no relief. Her heart had no strength. Her mind was a tangle of dangers and impossibilities. Her legs trembled and there was no stopping them.

She couldn’t do anything, and she wondered if that was for the best.

***

The inside of Ahuizotl’s flagship was hot. Dim, even with magic coursing through every vein and surface. A brown metallic tinge colored everything in sight. The sounds of clockwork and hissing pistons was nearly overwhelming. The floor was unstable, constantly rocking back and forth with the motion of the wings and the tangle of spidery legs beneath the monstrosity.

Button Mash leaned against the wall as he looked over Caballeron. The older stallion moaned quietly. The bleeding had finally clotted, and the ambrosia Button had administered would soon replenish the blood supply.

A Painted One—Confuto, if Button remembered correctly—growled from beyond a bulkhead. “Make sure he’s well taken care of. I shall return with further instructions.”

“He needs food,” Button said. “Some sort of sugary liquid. Do you have an orange or—?”

He sighed as footsteps retreated into the distance. He gave the bulkhead a tap and sat down beside Caballeron. As intimidating as he was when he was awake, he wasn’t very impressive at the moment. His scraggly beard, dark eyes, and gray-stricken mane made him seem more like a tired old grandpa than a vicious killer. Still, Button had left Caballeron’s knife blade out of the stallion’s reach. His chest itched with the memory of their single previous battle.

He gave the bandage a tug. It was just as secure as the last fifty times he’d checked it.

Caballeron opened a single eye. He studied his surroundings for a long moment, before turning his attention on Button. “Aboard the Hesperus Mactans, then?”

Button Mash scooted a ways back. “Is that what they call Ahuizotl’s giant death spider?”

“It’s two species of Black Widow Spider.” Ahuizotl attempted to move a leg. Unfortunately for him, the bandage wasn’t very mobile. “The ancient changelings were never very subtle.”

“Good, good.” Button Mash nodded, his ears straining for any sign of life besides Caballeron or the Painted Ones. “I’m so glad to have a name for my nightmares.”

Caballeron chuffed. He rested his head against the warm metal surrounding him. “You’re a fool.”

Button huffed. He rubbed the back of his neck and scowled. “Whatever.”

“If you had left me to die, they might have left you behind.” Caballeron flicked his short tail and kicked out a hind leg. With that much leverage gained, he hoisted himself to his rump. His eyes crossed as he grew dizzy, but he was able to prop himself against the bulkhead. “Then neither of us would be in this mess.”

Button leaned forward, pressing his forelegs against the floor. “You’re awful smarmy for somebody who should be dead. You know how lucky you were that the sword missed your heart and lungs? You should be worm food—”

“It’s not luck,” Caballeron said. “Martial Paw is one of the greatest swordsmen in the world. He meant for my death to be long and painful.” He brought a hoof gingerly to the bandage over his chest. “There are a great many people who will be upset you saved my life.”

Button’s ears drooped. He stood up to pace and wear out some of his nervous energy. “Sometimes being a stallion means quietly doing the right thing.” He shrugged. “No matter who’ll hate you for it.”

“Is that so?” Caballeron hissed as he moved his chest muscles wrong. He glanced at his blade sitting some meters away and let it be. “Keep doing the ‘right thing’ and all of Equestria’s going to hate you.”

“You were trying to help us—”

“I was trying to help myself.”

Button pressed a hoof against Caballeron’s mouth. “You were trying to help us, so I did you a solid. Now you’re going to do me a solid and help me rescue Sweetie Belle. And the hearts.” He lowered the foreleg, gave Caballeron as steely a glare as he could, and resumed his slow pace. “And if you’re lucky, we’ll rescue your heart, too.”

Caballeron peeled his lips back in a dark smile. “You’re not very good at being intimidating, boy.”

“Yeah, well…” Button rolled his eyes as he searched out a suitable comeback. Not finding one, he went with the least-lame in his arsenal. “You’re not very good at being a henchman. No idea why Ahuizotl relies on you.”

“Because I’m the only one who knows how to work the sun device.” Caballeron tapped the side of his head. “Make no mistake, boy, you are a fool. But me? I’m a darned fool. Y’see, I found the instructions for the sun device, hidden in a cavern somewhere in the Badlands. I was planning to auction it off in Saddle Arabia, Mole Ossia, or one of the other less-friendly countries out east. But lo and behold, Ahuizotl found out about it.”

Button kept Caballeron in the corner of his eyes. No reason to give the older stallion a chance to get the jump on him, invalid as he was. He didn’t look like he was capable of attacking. He just looked tired. Worn.

“I knew Ahuizotl would kill me for it…” Caballeron leaned his head against the metal wall. “So I memorized it and destroyed it. In return, once we found the Spade of Hearts, he used it against me. His first victim.”

Caballeron grinned with not an iota of humor. “But he didn’t know how to work it. The separation was incomplete. Half-baked. But I still need my heart back, boy. I’m dying without it.” He chuckled, rubbing grime from beneath his eyes. “I’ve tried to change the world with no thought for the consequences, but they finally caught up to me. How’ve you changed the word lately?”

“Me?” Button raised an eyebrow. He found a handle in the wall, where the thing might come away as a door. “I’m not exactly an earth-shaker.”

“Aren’t you?” Caballeron eased himself back down, sliding his body sideways with the motion. “Martial tried to snuff me out and you refused.”

“In my defense, I didn’t know it was Martial who stabbed you.”

“Ahuizotl tried to take control of the sun, and you flew in with a dragoncopter and blasted his army.”

Button grabbed the handle and tugged. It moved slightly, but would require more force to open. He pulled as hard as he dared, hoping against hope that it was quiet. “I—eurgh—wasn’t exactly thinking ‘world changer’ when I was flying that death trap.”

Caballeron pushed with his hind legs, coming closer and giving the wall a once-over. “You need to release the latch first.”

Button sighed as he flipped a lever on the side of the door. The handle moved much more freely. “Yeah. Thanks.” He opened the door and peered both ways down the hall. It was empty, and looked just like the room they’d been locked in. “Stay here. I’m gonna take a look.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Caballeron pushed himself to his feet, gritting his teeth. His left foreleg gave out on the way up. He rested on his knees and shuffled slowly around. “If Ahuizotl finds you—”

Button looked over his shoulder. He waited a moment for Caballeron to continue. “Yeah?”

“I have no idea what the mad god would do to you.” Caballeron rubbed his forehead with a moan. “That’s what scares me.”

“You need to rest,” Button said, leaning into the outer hallway. “The ambrosia’s working fast, but not that fast. Keep an ear to the floor.”

“Ah, I was wrong then.” Caballeron settled back and fiddled with the collar of his shirt. “We’re both darned fools.”

Button Mash felt a little stealthier than he figured he actually was. His hoofsteps rarely rose above the churn of the mechanisms all around. Every once in a while, he felt a cool breeze blow through the tunnels and corridors. He followed the breeze, hoping for a way outside. What he’d do once outside, he didn’t know. He didn’t know much, to be honest. He needed to find something to lead him onward.

He found a window built into the wall, made from some amber-colored material. He peered through and saw a large room, about the size of the sun device’s antechamber. The device was stored within, crawling with mechanical ants. Each and every one of them sported dents from the battle. Claws held the sun device in place, and the makings of a trap door could be seen beneath it.

Sweetie Belle! Button saw her on the far side of the chamber, being dragged away by Confuto and a couple other Painted Ones. He wiped sweat from his forehead and examined the rest of the room. Two doors, one beneath him, the other on the far side. If he could go down a level, he might find himself in that cargo bay area.

Maybe that was a bad idea. It was literally crawling with automatons. There had to be other ways around. He turned away from the wall and came face-to-face with an automaton.

He yelped as the thing threw him to the floor. Its gnashing mandibles snapped millimeters away from his schnoz. The sword-like legs closed around him, trapping him in a makeshift cage. He stared into the thing’s glowing red eyes and pleaded for death to be swift.

“Dissero, please.” A voice, deep as a Canterlot dumpster and weighty as a dropped barbell, landed squarely in Button Mash’s ear. “Let the poor boy up.”

The mechanoid moved aside, and Button Mash was graced with a full view of Ahuizotl’s face. The beast smiled as congenially as a shark drinking blood. “What have we here? I’m afraid we have a strict policy on stowaways.”

“I—” Button Mash felt the blood drain from his face. “I was brought aboard. I h-heeeee—healed Caball-leron!”

Ahuizotl guffawed. He tapped a claw beside Button’s head. “Indeed did you? It seems that I am in your debt. Were I to lose the good doctor, it would… complicate things.”

Button’s stomach churned at the scent of decayed fish on the mad god’s breath. “Uh huh.”

Ahuizotl’s tail-hand snaked around and grasped Button beneath the chin. He lifted Button by the neck and brought him up to eye-level. The mad god’s yellow eye glared at Button’s very soul. “Who are you, then? Not a guard. Not a member of the immediate family. Not even some sort of servant. You’re just here, and I find it very odd.”

“I-I’m a friend,” Button managed to choke out.

“Are you?” Ahuizotl touched a paw to his chest in mock surprise. “Well, it just so happens I’m in a good mood today. Why don’t we go see Sweetie Belle and find the truth of your statements?”

Button fought for breath as the tail swished him through the air. “Gurck! Sure! Ack! Sounds great! Just peachy!”

Bruises appeared beneath his coat of brown hair. Ahuizotl walked casually, almost leisurely. They carried on through the corridor in a loop—Button supposed it circled around the thorax of the mechanical flyder. The hum of machinery grew louder as they reached the neck joint of the monstrous flagship. The air grew hotter, and the sparkle of magic overcame the brown tones of the metal. Painted Ones and automatons moved aside for Ahuizotl and Dissero to pass, and gave Button looks that were far from pity.

The bridge was an open room, with several levels of consoles and controls. Instead of a ship’s wheel, there was a board of control crosses. Eight, to be exact, one for each of the legs. A master control sat beside it, and wires connected the lot of them together.

“High Priest Confuto,” Ahuizotl said, “where is Sweetie Belle?”

The Painted One, the strong young stallion that had thrown fireballs at Button and company, bowed at the neck. “She is chained to a chair at the front of the bridge, Almighty Ahuizotl. She awaits your command.”

“Like heck I do!” Sweetie’s voice snapped like a crocodile at an antelope. “You’re going down, monster!”

Ahuizotl hid Button behind his back as he approached the white-coated mare. He smiled as Button struggled to speak. “Indeed, Miss Belle? The armies of Equestria have been crippled. My machines are completely operational. Daring Do herself is dead.”

Button Mash’s eyes widened. Dead? How? It didn’t seem possible. She was an invincible hero. A legendary warrior. He’d spoken with her earlier that day…

Who was coming to save them now?

Button strained to see Sweetie, but Ahuizotl’s fingers clamped tight against his jaw. He could feel his teeth grinding against the force of the tail-hand.

“I have achieved victory in all but name.” Ahuizotl reached down to touch his claw against Sweetie’s chin. He forced her to raise her face. “All thanks to your natural siren’s song.”

He smiled, and Button’s heart felt faint at the grotesque sight. “Now,” Ahuizotl said, “perhaps you could explain something to me.” He swung Button around, and the young stallion got a good look at Sweetie Belle.

She was ragged and pained—that much was obvious from the matted mane and unbrushed coat. Her eyes were dim and tear-stricken. Her frameless glasses were scratched and askew. A strong shackle held her to a bench facing away from the port hole. Her mouth dropped open with a cry filled with fear and painful realization. “Button!”

Ahuizotl rocked the stallion back and forth. “So you do know him. And… dear me, she seems to care about you quite a bit.”

His left paw grabbed the Spade of Hearts and hovered it over his chest. “But what are you to her, hmm? A scrawny colt. Not a warrior. Barely a healer. I can sense your magic from here, and let me tell you, it’s not even enough to power one of my strutters.”

“Put him down!” Sweetie said, a strong command in her voice. “Put him down! Now!”

Ahuizotl laughed. He raised Button Mash higher, tracing a heart-shape across the scar on his chest. “I’ve been thinking. With Scootaloo missing—perhaps dead—I require another source of insurance that you will do as I say. A friend who I can threaten and beat. Perhaps this colt… this ‘Button…’ shall serve me in that regard.”

He threw Button against the wall. The young stallion curled up in a ball just before the tail-hand whipped around and pressed him against the bulkhead. It curled around his chest, allowing his forelegs to scramble frantically and feebly to free himself.

“Sing for me, Sweetie Belle,” Ahuizotl growled, “or I will simply twist his useless head off and be done with it.”

Button fumed, the pain and dismissal lending fire to his heart. Without really thinking it through, he leaned his head forward and bit deep into Ahuizotl’s finger. The mad god roared and flicked his hand away. With a mighty swing of his paw, he struck Button across the face.

Button Mash tumbled limply to a rest beside Sweetie’s bench, where she could see his bruised and battered jaw loud and clear. Button struggled to open the swollen, rapidly-developing black eye, but was forced to settle for half a view of the still-radiant mare.

He managed to crack a weak grin. He fought to give her some amount of muttered reassurance. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” Black filled the edges of his vision. It was becoming starkly familiar. He shook his head to banish the buzz. “Still hurts a bit.”

Ahuizotl signaled Confuto with a snap of his fingers. “See to it they are locked up. We wouldn’t want them to hurt themselves on the dangerous machinery. And Confuto—” He looked at the Painted One with a pleasant, if off-putting, smile. “—your timing for getting the Hesperus Mactans in the air was excellent.”

Confuto bowed low. “My lord, I was not the one to activate the flagship. I was busy retrieving Caballeron.”

“I appreciate the honesty.” Ahuizotl danced his paws through the air, as though conducting an orchestra. “Tell me who, then, that I may honor them.”

Confuto raised his head slightly, his ears tilting back. “No one knows, Almighty Ahuizotl. As far as everyone knows, the ship was activated before any of them came on board.”

Ahuizotl’s smile, and some portion of the good humor therein, dissipated. He tapped his claws against the floor as he glanced around at the ceiling. “Very well. Continue as I have commanded. I shall be in the engine room.”

Confuto tilted his head. “My lord?”

“As I have commanded, Confuto!”

Confuto swallowed. He glared at Button and kicked his hoof. “Get up.”

***

Ahuizotl walked slowly into the engine room of the Hesperus Mactans, solemn and quiet. Located at the base of the flagship’s head, protected with yards and yards of Golemium, it was the symbolic and literal heart of the vessel.

A large orb stood in the middle of the room, suspended by Golemium cords from the ceiling and propped up by pillars of the same. In the orb lay dozens of receptacles, each perfectly-shaped to receive a pony heart. And receive them it had—the entire room glowed with a multitude of colors and shades, all pulsating in time, all radiating their power throughout the Hesperus. Together, the hearts drowned out the orange glow that stained the entire ship’s interior.

Ahuizotl ran his paw over the surface of the orb, touching many hearts in the process. In each one, he could feel the fear they’d had since they were harvested. But there was something else, a hope instilled by Sweetie Belle, a hope of rescue.

Hearts always did pump better if there was hope behind them.

He idly tapped a claw and swiveled his ears. There was a faint presence that was decidedly not pony. It was difficult to pinpoint, as it seemed to permeate the entire room. Perhaps the entire ship. Vaguely familiar, but not immediately recognizable. “Who is there?”

A voice came to him, spoken inaudibly to his heart. “You do not recognize me?”

He stumbled back and brought a paw to his chest. Nothing changed visibly in the room, but the presence was far stronger. More familiar, yet he was even less certain than before. “I do not… are you friend, or foe?”

A panel in the wall came away. Machinery that had once been hidden away now danced freely aside. Green magic lanced through the air and came together in a cohesive shape. A torso, a head, four legs, two wings.

Next, armor left the wall, and the gap was closed with the panel. The armor flew confidently through the air to gird the anatomic facsimile. A helmet in the classic changeling style bedecked the head, with two sweeping horns and curved eye protection.

A hoof raised, allowing the gauntlet thereon to shine in the magical light. A gemstone set between the helmet’s horns shimmered, and a voice was heard out loud at last. “Have you yet remembered, Ahuizotl?”

Ahuizotl squinted at the ghostly changeling. The armor belonged to the queen, long, long ago. Which queen? The years had rotted his memory away. “I am afraid not, Queen of the Changelings. Perhaps a name?”

A mechanical sigh radiated throughout his heart. The gemstone twinkled as the helmeted, green-glowing head looked away. “I suppose it has been two-thousand years.”

Ahuizotl shook his head. His memory was so foggy that far back, it was difficult to make out details. Several lifetimes stood between himself and the Changeling Queen. And yet… “I remember a queen… who saved the world from the fey creatures. With artifacts of… immense power.”

“Yes, Ahuizotl.” The queen nodded and urged him on with a hoof. “Please, continue.”

“I would sit at her feet when she held court… I was…” There. A tactile memory. A gentle hoof across his head, backed with a confident smile. A smile worthy of honor and protection. “I was your friend.”

“Yes, Ahuizotl,” the queen said, and there was a lightness in her voice. A smile unseen on her artificial face. “Most loyal friend of friends.”

Ahuizotl clenched a fist. “River?” He let it slack, and shook his head. “But you died.”

“Though the pony rebellion destroyed our society, our cities, and our lives, I escaped.” River Cicada pointed to the dagger slung over his shoulder. “The Spade of Hearts was able to preserve my heart these many eons, though my body decayed to dust.”

She swept her hoof across the engine room’s orb. “And so I was able to follow you. Through the hearts of Mandible and Chrysalis the Second, to Button Mash’s puppet of an ancient pony myth—” She spat the word. “—to this very room, where I lifted the Hesperus Mactans to retrieve the Lance of Light.”

“The sun device.” Ahuizotl gazed upon the hearts in a new light. More memories resurfaced, foggy and faint, but there. “I’ve been drawn to it. Subconsciously guiding myself to it. And now I know why.”

“There is one thing that remains, Ahuizotl.” River Cicada drew herself up regally, raising her right foreleg at the knee. “To what end do you seek to control the sun once more?”

Ahuizotl snarled and scoured the floor with a powerful claw. “You of all creatures should know!” He raised his arms to the ceiling and let out a bellow. “The Creator has abandoned us all!”

Cicada’s helmet tilted. “The Creator is the One who gifted us with the Elements of Harmony, Ahuizotl. And from there—”

“He gave us the Elements—” Ahuizotl pointed a claw. “—so that He would not have to dirty His paws! He, who gave gifts to the ponies to replace the changelings. He, who so readily cast His own offspring aside to pave the way for the more obedient! He, who has left this world to rot under the control of Celestia and her ilk! No longer!”

He drew the Spade of Hearts and sent magic into the pommel stone. It glimmered brilliantly against his eyes. “Now, the Unseelie Court of Fey seeks to reassert control and remake the world as they see fit! I see it in my dreams, my nightmares! They must be stopped from retaking control of the sun, Cicada!”

He pounded a fist against his jeweled breastplate. “Who better than I to lead the next generation? The people deserve a god who is present! Who will not abandon his own! Who will not leave the destructive power of fairies, or alicorns, or monsters unchecked! I shall be that god! I, who rescue the orphan! I, who will restore the changeling empire! I, who am truly immortal!”

River Cicada was quiet for a long moment. Ahuizotl awaited her response, the blade at the ready to strike her down should she stand against him.

At last she spoke, and she was quiet. “You are not the creature I remember.”

Ahuizotl raised his eyebrows. “But am I wrong?”

Queen Cicada shook her head. “I fought for you so that the Changeling Empire might live once again. But you are no god, Ahuizotl. You are a creation, as much as I am.”

“It is the principle of the thing!” The Spade of Hearts left a trail of magic as he swung it through the air, punctuating his point. “The same Creator who gifted you with the Elements later allowed them to fall into pony hooves! He cares for you no more than the likes of Celestia! He simply allows the world to crumble beneath him, descending into chaos and madness. But I—”

He stopped and took a breath. He stared at the dagger, piercing through the morass of memory to violent, terrible events. “Do you remember… when the ponies came for them? The other four… friends. The screams? The blood? The slaves shouting of righteousness and the Creator’s blessing?”

Cicada trembled beneath the armor, the magic falling out of alignment for the briefest of moments. A low groan rode throughout the interior of the Hesperus Mactans.

He pointed the dagger at her heart. “Is that the sort of god you wish to follow, River?”

The flickering halted. Queen River Cicada of the Changelings drew herself back up to a tall, regal, powerful stance. “I say again: You are no god, Ahuizotl. But I swear, I shall stand by your side to right the wrongs of the world.”

Ahuizotl slid the dagger into its scabbard. “What more could I ask from an old friend?”

***

The door opened, and Button Mash’s face hit the floor. He groaned as he moved his legs beneath him.

Caballeron’s voice piped up from the far side of the room. “You’re more alive than I expected.”

Button coughed and gingerly touched his black eye. “Note to self: Don’t bite Ahuizotl.”

Caballeron gaped. “Bit him? You’re no darned fool, boy! You’re an outright blithering idiot!”

“Button!” Sweetie Belle was by his side, touching his shoulder gingerly, coaxing him to his feet. “Come on. Th—there’s a bed on the wall. Just move slowly, okay?”

“Aaaaahhh…” Button hissed as he stumbled against Sweetie. She held him steady. They walked carefully towards the cot bolted to the wall, one painful step at a time.

Caballeron sneered at Confuto. “What? Now I have to chaperone these two? I’m not being paid enough for this nonsense!”

Confuto grinned. “You can’t put a price on a life.” He slammed the door in Caballeron’s face.

Button sat, then gently lay on the cot. It seemed like every muscle in his body had turned to stone, in one way or another. He gave Sweetie an uneven grin. “Well, this sucks.”

Sweetie’s lips moved wordlessly for a moment. “H-how did you even get on board?”

“He was bandaging my injury and got scooped up in the chaos.” Caballeron chuckled and lay his head on his good foreleg. “Such staggering heroics.”

“I guess I just keep trying to change the world.” Button Mash sighed and let his eyes trail to Sweetie Belle. He hesitated on a bruise on her shoulder before snapping his attention to the wall. “One way or another.”

To Button’s surprise, Sweetie Belle touched a hoof to his forehead. She looked over his injuries, her face falling. “D-did you come all this way for me?”

Button chewed his lip. He had lots of reason, most of them jumbled up and confused. Where could he even start? What would be the end of it? He supposed it was just best to say what was in his heart, even if his heart didn’t quite know. “I guess… that’s one reason.”

Sweetie half-laughed, half-sighed. “Just one, huh?”

“I wanted to save you and Scootaloo.” He waved a hoof at the doctor. “To give Caballeron a big ‘screw you!’ To help Spike and Rumble out on their quest. I guess…” He petered off, his eyes unfocused. Dare he go on? Had he rambled? Did Sweetie really want to know? Maybe it was best to shut up about it.

But then, he saw her eyes. Kind eyes. Attentive eyes. Glistening green emeralds of far more value than the greatest treasure. She was listening to him. She. Was listening. To him.

“I guess I wanted—” He breathed, and took the leap. “—to feel like I was worthy of doing something important.”

Sweetie smiled softly and shook her head. She rubbed his forehead, careful to avoid the injured areas. She opened her mouth to speak.

She was interrupted by a dark, cackling, wheezing laugh. Caballeron stood up and staggered his way to the bed. “You wanted to feel worthy, eh? There are none who are worthy, only those who take a stand. Who move forward. You dove in over your head and changed the world. Now, you find yourself drowning in a change you weren’t ready for.”

Sweetie pouted at him. “If you’re so knowledgeable about changing the world, why don’t you tell us the last time you did something, doctor!”

Caballeron’s smile, as bitter and fake as it was, crumbled in the face of her words. He curled his lips at her, turning a dark eye on Button as well. “Oh, I could tell you a tale, alright. It’s been a while since I taught, but the lessons are fresh.”

He nodded, and when he spoke, Button felt his heart drop. “I just need to start with the night my son died.”