Lullaby for Midlight

by Blankscape

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, Queen Chrysalis, Adventure, Pinkie Pie, Human, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 108524

When the fading entity cries out, the world shall know its plight. Won't you come and sing it a lullaby?

Agatha had always remembered Mergo fondly, as did Mergo in kind. Their time together was brief, but that made it all the more precious. Even when a tragic accident tore them apart, they somehow found their way back to each other. Then came a special night. It was supposed to be simple affair. Though by night's end, it was clear to Agatha that somethings just don't stay the same.

In fact, nothing will ever be the same.

When a mysterious figure comes to take Mergo away, it seems at first that Agatha and her friends are collateral. But the chains that bind Mergo tug at their fates as well. Obscured by past and muddled in present, the chains wind, split and tangle many more fates. They need only the will to see where those chains lead and seek the truth out, for better or for worse.

AN[170815]
*If the errors still seem obvious in later chapters, that's because I write the story on tablet at least half of the time, and the auto-correct is a nasty prick. I also do all my editing, so projecting how long this story is going to be, I can only as everyone to be patient. I will get to the mistakes in time. Also cover art still pending...

AN[170915]
*Temporary cover art, extravagant basis for Knight Undaunted.
*I'll be revising the description soon. On advice, it's a bit too long.

Published 2017-06-10 12:50:06 UTC
Last updated 2017-09-30 16:13:37 UTC

Prologue - A Lullaby

Those fleeting melodies recalled in my memory.

It was the dead of the night when I sat up in bed. Their twilight harmonies rang out deeply and profoundly in my heart when no one else remembered them. By their soothing peaceful tones, my heart stilled, calm and clement, yet resolute to suffer neither storm nor tempest. A feeling rose in my chest. It was warm and fuzzy, and I couldn't contain it... I had to get out.

The cuckoo clock on the wall chimed just an hour before midnight. It was already so late, yet hearing those two downstairs bickering over trifles actually meant the night was anything but dead. The correction made me chuckle as I reached for a rusty xylophone, the meager scrap they had scrounged from the dump for me. It was a battered and nearly broken thing, and yet I couldn't thank them enough for this one gift.

Lifting the window open with a hoof, I shimmied up over its sill. The drop from the window was not too far in spite of my height. Touching down on dew-dropped grass, I hastened my little hooves up the hill by our house on the edge of Ponyville.

Cresting its peak, I sat myself on the low-lying bow of the lone tree that grew there. A beautiful rural township, it was, and it opened up to me over a great deal of my sight. The view I gazed upon was aplenty with the heart, unity, cheer and all of the muchness of its residents, rustic as they were. Up above, the stars were arranged in numerous arrays and the moon casted a warm glow as it hung the cold evening air. With naught an obscuring cloud in its expanse, the night mare's sky was even more so beautiful...if only a twinge forlorn. My only companion now was a genteel breeze that hung in the air, rustling the leaves of the tree I sat under with its gossamer touch. As comforting as it was, a slight sorrow in the night sky was palpable...at least to me it was.

It was her, wasn't it? The night mare had been through so much herself. A solace would do her good, do the both of us good. It was ever so good to share. Sticking my chest out and straightening my back, I steadied my fetlock over a rusted key and cleared my throat to prepare.

As faithfully as I could recall and as sincerely as I could play, I began and hummed along...

I offered for us, this evening, a lullaby.

Author's Note

AN[170610]

*Putting the Prologue in the long description was a 'testing the waters' move on my part. I don't have a good enough long description ATM, though I could manage the tagline, which I thought was pretty sweet. The rules/guidelines say I'm not supposed to do that, but I've read a lot of shit that's slipped through their nets. So I'm checking if who ever approves this will let it slide. The Prologue isn't too long after all, so yeah...

MEA MAXIMA CULPA, KYRIE ELEISON!!! :fluttershysad::scootangel:

*So it's been approved and they were fine with the Prologue being in the long description. If enough people request it, I will transfer it into its own proper chapter. And thank you, all of you who come to read my story. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.

AN[170709]
I might change the prologue and transfer it to a proper chapter. Looking for a reply from the author whose story helped inspired this in some small part.

AN[260717]
So after consulting a friend, I've written down a proper description and moved the prologue into its own chapter. Sorry about the false update guys. And planning has mostly been going well. Chapter 4 should be out within the next 2 weeks at most.

Chapter 1 - A Dullard

That’s exactly what she was. All so rambunctious without a care in the world. She ran and frolicked through that meadow with the wind pressing against her as she passed one curtain of light after another. She really didn't have a clue. Yet all seriousness aside, I felt the urge to join her.

In fact, I wished I was more like her, yet why couldn't I...when I already was?

That lackadaisical grin breaking her face to the point it almost hurt to look at. Her barefoot jaunt through all that greenery in spite of the bruises beneath her feet. Blades of grass and confetti of petals clinging to her dress along the way, with the flecks that didn’t stick to her all taking to the breeze in a spectacular flurry. And yes, that cool breeze. It was a gust with more oomph than she was rowdy. One that only seemed to want to butt heads with her, had it ever a head to butt with in the first place. But its billowing force only had the opposite effect on her, refreshing and egging her on rather than weighing heavy and tiring her out. Such was the effect of nature on her. The myriad scent of spring and the brisk tang of salt drifting in from the sea wafted together in a lively waltz all over the place, and to not feel a twinge of emotion as much as it bled out from her, one would be mistaken as heartless and cruel...or for a corpse.

It really did look like she was enjoying all that. Even from afar as she fit in palm of my hand, I could tell that she did. She had been beaming that wide open grin around left and right, laughing the air out of her lungs for a while now… Was it wrong of me to want that for myself as well?

At the front, the meadowed grounds fell suddenly into a dark sea. And she kept pushing against the wind that blew in from the sea. The wind still blew strong as if coming off the tail of a raging squall. Even from where I stood, its howls felt as powerful as the waves below, crashing in and pushing us back as it told us, 'It's too dangerous here. Away with you from the edge!'

But from the winds behind me, I could hear it whisper a sigh, one that sounded exasperated at that. At this point, the wind seemed as though a hassled guardian, annoyed at the unruly bairn nipping at its heels. To think she managed to get a sign out of the winds itself no less! How much more unbelievable can a person get?

“AAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH!!!!!”

And then she jumped… like what the hell!?

"Mergo!"

The dread that took hold of me squeezed the wind out of my lungs in this frantic run down the slope of the meadow. While the way was short enough, the angle of the slope made it a treacherous trek for me. The stones that lay hidden in the grass made sure it was no easy-going promenade either. A barefooted one at that. And while the rocks jutting forth from the ground were thoughtful enough to catch me, they did so earthily with their toughest of loves. How she had managed to get down there so blithely without a scratch in the first place!!...oh, I could worry about that later. Much, much later.

I touched to the final boulder and it greeted me with a thud. The last of over a dozen same greetings on the way down. Hindsight begun to nag at me for that reckless dash, but the thought was pushed aside, as was the tall grass brimming the cliff. Coming down to my knees I peered over the edge, anxious of what harrowing scene might pin my eyes open and grip my heart in a vice…

“It's ok! I'm alright, Midlight,” she yelled.

Her voice was barely audible through the howling of the wind that held her aloft and dry above the water and jagged rocks below. I let out a sigh of relief.

But then the pain came back at me full force, turning that relief into agony. Not that I was in much pain at all, no. It was just such a strange sensation to me, I could only seethe through my teeth at the experience. As I leaned against a boulder, it came in splotches of different sizes radiating all over my body, foretelling the tender black spots they would become later on and my regret for having ever worried over her. No matter how much I rubbed my skin, it remained incessantly. In fact, it only exacerbated the sensation.

"God...I hate pain." I had never wanted to leave such a beautiful place like this so quickly before. The sooner we get back home, the better. I was better off fluttering just over her shoulder anyway. Why oh why had I agreed to this in the first place?

Then a tempting thought slithered into mind, a slight consolation for me. If only I could reach over and wipe that smile off her face with a good slap, enough to make her cheeks throb red. It would finally put these hands to good use! Not to mention the lesson it would teach her, a dullard like her deserved it. Then again with the wind in her proverbial sails, my mistake was ever worrying about her in the first place. In short, we were both idiots. But for different reasons. Like I had any reason to worry anyway.

“Hey,” a voice called from over the edge.

Accompanying the voice was an outstretched hand peeking past the cliff, waiting for contact. “A little help would be nice, please?”

There she stood as I warily peeked over the edge once more, standing on a gust of wind that deftly saw to her safety. Astonishment struck me as hammer and the moments passed by.

“Well? The wind can’t carry me forever… well, it could, but that’s beside the point. I can't stand here forever, Midlight.” She waved her hand to punctuate, yet I couldn’t help but stare at her audacity.

"I wished you would. Maybe then I'd get some peace of mind..."

"Come on!" She puffed her princess cheeks at my snarkiness. Not wanting another peep from her, I pulled her back to solid ground. And for good measure, I pulled her a few more paces away from the relative possibility of falling to her certain death again.

"Thanks," was all she meagerly offered at which I shook my head before falling back into the lush.

Mergo panted as she fell on her bum, tuckered out amongst the grass and flowers though clearly not as exasperated as I was. And she gaffawed out so loudly for that lark. The thought of giving her that good slap she deserved crossed my mind again, and I willed my hand to do exactly that… But then again, I was too winded from my own trek down the slope and in pain from running into several boulders. So I didn’t bother. I would rather just take this time to rest. Yes, rest before she got her second wind, literally.

“Oh, looky-looky, I see hooky!” She exclaimed, quickly rising up to her feet as a ‘hooky’ something caught the glint in her eye.

All too soon, my moment's reprieve was over. I could almost cry. Where in the world was she getting this energy!? It’s like she never ran down he hill or fell down the cliff in the first place.

Mergo walked past my line of sight from where I lay, eager steps taken in strides over to whatever had caught her fancy.

“What is it?” I asked with what spare breath I had, yet she didn't bother to answer.

That was a straw right there fraying, but it wasn’t the last. There was still a bit of patience left in me, though I couldn’t help letting out a low grumble to drown out my words of complaint. Turning over, I patted the grass off my own dress. Taking note of it though I was no expert in fashion, I could tell that it was designed and made well. Maybe next time, I should ask her to throw in a pair of slippers too. Speaking of which, my feet ached immediately as I took to stand...

Hmm, why not now then?

With a yell, I called to Mergo, who had somehow covered half the hill in the time I took to turn around. “Hey, Mergo.” She turned to face me. “Do you mind?” I asked, gesturing to practically all of myself; a sorry collage of grassy mulch strewn over a disheveled head and a ruffled dress that hid the blemishes that would only deepen in blacks and blues with time.

She tilted her view as if the simple action would help make sense of the display in front of her without needing any explanation. Damnit, she should know what I mean by now!

“Mind what?”

Apparently she did need one. “Could you do something about this?” I clarified while again gesturing to my tousled appearance. To make it even more apparent, I lifted my dirt caked foot and wiggled my toes as they held grass and pebbles uncomfortably between them. Wouldn't want to go back up that incline barefoot again.

“That’s it? Aren’t you a big girl now? Like you need my help to fix yourself up,” she nonchalantly tossed before returning to her hike back up the hill.

The flippant response caught me off guard. With my stare turning so intense, I wished it could scorch her skin where she stood! No! Keep it cool...and calm. Straws were a trivial matter and I could always make more. A breakthrough was due anytime soon. Though one would think a person literally so close to me would make good guesses of my meaning. A twin thing, as Agatha would put it. Though if she had any idea, she'd know it was something entirely. The shock on her face if she did!

The thought calmed me down some, fumes dispersing in heavy yet hearty chuckles. “Just keep calm, it will pay off soon enough,” I whispered to myself.

As I caught up to her, my efforts to tidy myself up were middling but well enough. At least it no longer hurt that much to walk. Upon cresting the hill and leaving the aching barefoot trek behind me, I set foot on cobblestone road that cut across the place. Old broken pillars and equine themed statues lined the road left and right. The path was worn rough by the elements and time, though not so rough as to be too unkind on my bare feet.

Over by the long hedge that ran along the road, Mergo had stuck her head in, still looking. When she didn’t find whatever it was she was looking for, she took her head out and stuck it in the next section, all the while indifferent to the branches and twigs tugging on her clothes and hair.

“Can you help me?” She asked upon hearing me approach.

Her face scrunched in pensive thought with a hand to her chin when she pulled her head out of the bush. An errant twig stuck out from her hair with something else entirely hanging out from it. “I think I lost that thing I just saw… or was it someone…”

Doubt pulled down as a weight on the corners of her lips. She began to pace back and forth with a hand to her chin, completely missing the pink strands frayed and clumped up on a branch sticking from her head. It was almost like one of those old cartoons we had used to watch.

“Oh, so now you’re talking normally, aren’t you? Or maybe because this place isn't all it's cracked up to be? Nothing but stone, a nice breeze and a fall to certain death!” I quipped while taking notice of the oddity on her head. Making my annoyance apparent should help calm me down some. And after what just happened, I figured she deserved a bit of sass. “What was that thing you’re looking for again, some kind of hooky-hooky?”

“I will take that gladly on account of someone not having there fill of fun, even though the Breeze was kind enough to invite both of us. And that means you, if you didn't get that. Now will you help me look for it?... Or is it them...” Even trying to heckle her took more effort than it was worth. Could she be any more unapologetic while keeping up that vague front?

“That's it, Mergo. I’ve been playing lady-in-waiting to you since we got here--no, since I got here. From the very beginning!” I snapped at her while pulling her away. Still she was more concerned with finding whatever that thing was, rolling her eyes haughtily as I spoke. “We wouldn’t be here if I hadn't found that door, and you couldn’t even get up that hill without my help in the first place. So at least show some appreciation!”

Wincing and pressing fingers to her temple, it seemed my words finally found a chink in her armor. She turned to me looking miffed herself. “Only if second guesses count as intentionally finding lost magickal doorways, Midlight.” She chuckled at her riposte. “And maybe if you'd take the time to help me look for that thing, I’d appreciate you a little more!”

There was my chance, and I get to rub it in her face.

Reaching over her head, I plucked the twig out and showed her the small clump of pink snagged around it. "Oh, you mean this?"

"Where did this come from?" She was such a dullard. The fact she only stood there, scratching her head as she took the strands in her hand proved it.

Tracing her steps a few paces back, I soon found the bush where she had picked this up. Parting it's foliage was not effort, though its branches and leaves still pushed and pricked against my face. The hedge was thick and I stuck my hand in blind. Surprisingly, it didn't take me long to find the thing either.

“Where would you be without me?” I offered quite smugly, pulling out a small bag. The little was made of a fine velvet that shimmered even in faint light. She only stood there, dumbfounded and mouth agape. It seemed the ease with which I found the object of her interest had yet to sink in. "Take it! Before I literally rub it in your face!"

“Hmm…thanks.” Her gratitude was half-hearted, carried by a begrudging tone, but it hummed as sweetly as a tune.

Taking the bag from me, she made no note of its material as she uncinched it to peer into its contents. “What is this...hair? And pink of all colors!” Tilting her hand, a small lock of hair fell out from the bag and into her palm, to which she twiddled them between her fingers in fascination.

"Look! It's all pink!" She offered the clump to me, assuming I shared her curiosity. To the contrary, I was disgusted.

“Ugh, keep it away from me. Just toss it back in,” I reacted on impulse, shooing her hand away. Shivers crept under my skin at the though I ever held that thing in my hand.

“But what’s something so peculiar doing inside a hedge?”

As if on queue, there was faint rustle from the other side. In this case, curiosity got the best of both of us, and we parted the section of the hedge, which turned out to be not as thick as I thought it was.

There we saw… a someone, skulking around some ruins quite a stone's throw away. Ruins that completely passed our notice as they stood behind the overgrown hedge. Garbed in a thick cloak of assorted tatters, they tugged a shabby cart on rough worn wheels. Wearing such drab colored attire, the soft shade cast in the late afternoon hid the someone-in-question well, allowing them to blend with little effort into the forest backdrop. And even more so against the moss-covered rubble and stone. Had the day been cloudy or gray, I would have missed them entirely and mistaken the sounds for a ghost! Furtively they snuck under shade, close enough for us to observe. All the while their head turn left and right often, bearing an expression of focus, scrutiny...and distress. As if looking for something in the dirt and foliage like Mergo was some moments ago.

I turned to Mergo briefly, seeing her own gaze rapt with attention. “What do you suppose they’re up to here?”

“I can’t say for sure.” At least she deigned to answer me this time. “Though if I had to guess, it looks like she's a scavenger.”

Now, where did 'she' come from exactly? “How did you get all that in one glance?” I could only scratch my head at her inference. Most of the time, she was the one to let details fly by her.

Mergo raised her hand to her chin with a smug smile on her face. “Well she is carrying all that junk around on her cart.” I looked to the cart which she had pointed to, now parked partly in a spotlight that broke through the canopy. It was just a few paces away from us in fact, closer than she was to us. Hmm, I didn't notice that till now. There were shiny trinkets and rusty doodads sitting on top of it, things normal people would immediately dismiss as junk. Though like Mergo said, they might be wanting to salvage the materials and—hold the brakes, that’s not what I meant!

“No, not that. I mean how could you tell she’s a she? Well, not that I care about subtext people choose to be offended by.”

“Well for one, it takes her more effort to haul the heavier junk around, like when she just set down her cart just now. And it's mostly just smaller scrap she's gathered, things she can pick up with both hands. It's like she's sizing up the worth of each pick against the burden of lugging it around. Not only that, but the size of her shoulders and her general build… and her eyes, those pretty much gave it away. Not that I pegged these details as important from the get-go.” Wow, she was right. I've gotta hand it to her this time. “But really, does it matter?”

She was right about that too, I guess. Wait, did I miss something? “You saw her looking this way? When did she ever do that?”

“Just right now actually. It seems she's looking over here now,” Mergo answered without catching onto my concern. "I think she can hear us now." At her words, I brought my hand away from the hedge to let it close, yet Mergo reached in with her hand to keep it open, wanting to observe for longer. “It doesn’t seem like she cares about being watched all that much. So long as we don't come any closer.”

This was getting out of hand. Not that I ever considered meeting any of the locals, but it was probably not good to be viewed as a stalker. “So all suspicions aside, she’s just some nondescript passerby we've no business eavesdropping on, right?”

“Pretty much. Though there's nothing wrong with being a nondescript passerby… unless that means she's just poor.” Her expression turned perplexed at the complicating thought while somehow relishing it... I knew that look.

“Okay then, let’s head back,” I told her whilst turning around and hurrying back to the field. I yanked on her arm for her to follow, but she only shrugged it off.

"No," Mergo shot back without missing a beat.

Oh, no. “What do you mean, 'no'!?”

She raised the gross bag of hair, dangling them in my view to drive her point. “My oh my, what ever shall I do with this lost item that is clearly lost and in need of returning to its rightful owner?” She yelled to no one in particular with one foot already in the hedge. "If only said owner was still around, within earshot of reaching and looking for said lost item!"

Damnit, Mergo! You were making a racket on purpose!

“Don’t you dare take another step!” I warned sternly with a finger. Instead she took my warning as a challenge, savoring the distress she caused me while slowly creeping past to the other side.

Hollering a playful whisper in outright defiance, she disappeared into the brush.

“Adventure!”

I was fuming, seething where I stood. I wanted to shout out loud and vent my frustrations, but it was no use. She was always like this, even before the accident, dragging me into her shenanigans. I had no choice but to follow.

Laying a hesitant hand on the hedge, I parted foliage to find Mergo making a beeline for the someone in question, who had towed their cart away closer to the ruins. Her eagerness resounded with a fresh crunch for every footfall, and for the ruckus she was making, the scavenger was well alert by the time I made my own way over.

In moments, uncertainty and wariness settled in our midst, cloying the air thick. Our three-way standoff was off to a quiet start while the world still moved around us. With the air as tense as this, I kept my ears peered in a feeble attempt to be vigilant. From here I could tell that the someone reached back to her cart, her hand mere inches from a handle of a sickle. Meanwhile Mergo closed the distance between her and her destination still keen on making contact. Keeping herself open and unimposing, she made it clear to any who saw her she wasn't a threat. For the off chance they saw her as an easy target, the breath that caught in my throat kept me on edge. Looking past them both I saw the ruins of a derelict estate, from which not even a peep came. Was she here alone, or were there others in the ruins? Were they coordinating this scrap dive and watching out for each other, or was this a scavenger's melee? Mergo went on step by step, regardless of my apprehensions. Whatever the case, we were going to find out soon what lay in store for us.

"Hey there, stranger! Found a nice sweet spot for scavenging, huh?" Mergo began amicably. If only she didn't start with such a patronizing line, I wouldn't be so worried...or did she do that just to get on my nerves? "Um, hello?"

...

"Can you understand me?"

...

The stranger offered no response, remaining wary with her hand still inches away from the sickle on her cart.

No use in waiting for a bomb to set off. I might as well step in and defuse it before things got worse. "I'm so sorry about her! She can get too nosy for her own good. In fact, we were just leaving!" I hooked my arm around Mergo's arm to pull her away, but she only shrugged me off.

"Come on now, I'm just trying to break the ice. Don't be such a stick in the mud for once."

"Unbelievable!" Watching her talk our way into trouble was practically a pastime for me now. When she set her mind to something, even I couldn't stop her. Me of all people!

The scavenger stood by watching our exchange, then her attention fell on Mergo once more when addressed.

"So...great forest, huh? You won't have to worry about rain or sun coming down to bear over while you scrape by. Speaking of which, how are the pickings?"

Is she trying to lead this into something? Why bother drawing this out? "Just go and get us kidnapped or killed already!"

For that quip, she kicked up a pile of leaves back at me. Good thing they only landed at my feet. Any higher and I would've dragged her sorry but the back through the hedge anyway. I wouldn't care if she hated me. "Find anything good for that matter, or are you looking for something specific?"

Still the scavenger wouldn't budge and remained tight lipped. That was until...

"Is it something you lost?" Mergo lifted the gross bag up for her to see. Ugh.

A hand stretched out and a couple of step were taken, but she relented. Finally, she peeped in askance about the bag, recognizing its velvet material on sight. "Where did you find that?" The scavenger piped up passed the rags that covered her.

"Ohoho, so can understand us! And here I thought people spoke something else altogether. That would've been bad. Right, Midlight?" She turned to me, looking relieved for the fact.

"Just get on with it so we can go!"

"Alright, alright." She turned back to the scrapper. "So, funny story that. I saw you sticking your head through the hedge not too long ago. You were trying to get in, weren't you? Why didn't you come over? You could have broken through with that sickle of yours easily, and we were having so much fun!"

"You're not really answering my question."

"There's nothing much past the hedge, is there? Though seeing how things aren't so green on this side, it's a slice of paradise over there. Bright sun, the dew on the grass, and the tang of the breeze coming in from the sea? All so divine! Hmm, now that I noticed, when did it get so cloudy?" Oh, now she was just beating around the bush. Though some of the things she said did get the stranger's interest piqued even more.

"Get it over with!" I shouted.

My sudden volume startled the both of them, the scavenger more so than Mergo. "Okay! So yeah, you dropped this by the hedge, and I thought maybe you'd want it back." Lacking any further excuse to drag things on, she tossed the bag over to her.

The scavenger caught it in her hand and gave it a once over, after which she said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." As she puffed up with gratification and pride, I could almost hear her words monologuing in her mind, patting herself in the back with lines like, 'Yay, good deed done! Time for some well-deserved hot chocolate!' or 'Gosh, it sure feels good to help people in need. I sure hope there are other people in trouble so I can feel better about myself more.'

If only she felt the same about our needs as well.

"Oh, and for the record, Midlight was the one who found it." At the mention of my name, I turned to see Mergo pointing a thumb back at me, her innocent tone betrayed by the impish grin plastered on her face. "So if anything is missing in there, you should probably ask her if she went and hid something between those shifty fingers of hers. She's so eager to use them!"

Mischief simply seethed from the words she spouted, and while the lie was quite obvious to me, it wasn't so for our scruffy new acquaintance. "Shut it, you!" I had salvage what I could of this first impression, even just to save face.

"I'm sorry if she seems overbearing, but ever since we found our way here, Mergo's been more...erratic lately. She is considerably tamer, most times. Anyway, we have to get going." I turned around to Mergo, who patiently sat back for a change. With a satisfied grin on her face, I gave her a nod and we began walking back to the hedge. "I'm glad we helped you find it, and it was nice meeting you!" I waved back to the scavenger, nearly crossing over.

"Well, that was nice," I noted duly after we both broke through back to the meadowed side. "We returned a filthy bag full of hair to its rightful owner in record time. Considering we didn't get kidnapped or killed, I'd say that was a pretty awesome side quest. Thanks for reining it in, Mergo-"

And then there was another eager rustle as someone else came through the hedge to follow us.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeyyyy, look who's here." At Mergo's words I turned to find our scavenger friend having joined us in a huff, looking past the thin veil of brush we just passed through. Committing to silence, she didn't even acknowledge us as her attention lay keenly on whatever was still on the other side.

Well so long as she wasn't bothering us then... "Come on, Mergo. It's time to go."

"Uh, hey… So is there something else you wanted to say?" And naturally she ignored me. "Or something you forgot-"

"Shhhh." With a stern finger of her own, she brought Mergo to silence with her... Who was this person, and what's her secret?

With a careful beckon, the scavenger bade us closer to her, closer to the opening in the hedge. The forceful pitch of voices echoed from the other side, throwing disgruntled orders and reports.

"Go on and check the other side!" One such order took us for a ride as three heartbeats raced with the approaching footsteps. As the rustling neared, we dove to the sides, hugging bushy walls in hopes of not being found. A pair of calloused hands wrapped in thick drab gloves parted the brush to reveal a toothy face not unlike a person's, though one firmly planted on the sharp head of some sort of reptile. His slitted eyes took scope each and every direction so as to be thorough.

"Nothing here, Tanzan," the brute reported gruffly, catching me by surprise. "Eh!?"

With a hand on my mouth as tight as a vice, Mergo put all effort into keeping a lid over me while laying as still as she could herself. Our guest on the other hand held her own bated breath as a couple of bandages came loose from their wraps on her hands.

"What was that, Sahmad?" Another gruff voice piped in.

After another cursory sweep with reptilian eyes, the one named Sahmad replied, "Nothing. Must be the wind." At his words, he brought his head back to the forested side of the hedge. "It's just a barren plain with cliff over there. A whole lot'a nothing."

Barren plain... How could he not see the beautifully overgrown meadow right in front of him, or even the vast open sea? Something was up.

"Then hurry your tail, and get over here. The night won't be long coming."

Their words receded to incomprehensible banter as the distance grew between us, though there was a lot more ruckus coming from where they stood. The sound of things clanging, twisting, and snapping... Oh no.

It was several minutes passing before we could no longer hear them and even decided on moving. Then and only then when we were certain, we crossed the hedge again and approached the remains of the scrap cart, a little more than scrap itself now. We stood a few paces away to give the scavenger room to take it in.

Moments passed one after the other, yet not too long before Mergo couldn't help but speak up. "I’m sorry they ransacked your stuff." And then she turned to me, hinting that I should offer my own words of condolence as well. She already said she was sorry, but here goes...

"It’s our fault. If only we didn’t waste your time, talking out in broad daylight. You could have gotten away." A nudge from Mergo and she glowered at my words which stung her somehow. What? I was only stating the obvious. "Who were those people anyway?"

"Sandata's chronies, a ragtag boodle of undesirables who somehow managed not to slit each other's throats yet," the scavenger explained on bended knee while examining the remains for her wagon. If she felt anything after that ordeal, she made no trace of it in voice or gesture. She was in disbelief I'd wager. "They’re essentially scavengers like me, only they've resorted to underhanded methods as you just saw. They roam the aerie, taking whatever they want rather than debasing themselves, as they put it, and working honestly for their share. I hadn't seen them in months, so like most decent folk, I assumed they moved shop."

Glancing to her, Mergo seemed to fester over her apparent fault. "How long did it take you to gather as much as you had?" I said, asking the question she didn't have the courage to ask herself.

"A week."

That long for all that junk? The revelation dourly affected Mergo even more, her gaze set down and fists curled. This time, it was Mergo who spoke up, unable to bottle her guilt. "We’re so sorry for causing all of this. If you’d like we can help you make up for all the things you lost."

As bothered as I felt for my dissented inclusion, I couldn't help but fall in with their pity. After all she needed those things to get by.

"Ah, no need for that. And to be honest, I actually have you two to thank for." She rummaged through what was left of her cart, breaking a band of metal that served as a lock. The sound took us unawares and echoed with the confusion that bounced between Mergo and I.

Mergo only looked to me with lack for words. In want of explanation as much as she was, for the both of us I asked, "How’d you figure that?"

"This thing right here." Taking a break from her salvage work, she proffered the thing we returned as part of her reason. That velvet bag full of pink hair. "Its worth is four times the scrap I can scrounge in a month. I was promised something of great value for its delivery, but then I started to panic when I realized I'd lost it." Her expression brooded briefly over prior realization of losing it, and the possibility of the mishap weighed heavily over her as a result. Then her face brightened up with a smirk. Turning to face us, she continued. "Then you two came along and pulled me away, just in time. If you hadn’t troubled yourselves at all to return it, those thugs would have caught me with my head to the ground. Then they would've wrung me for everything of worth before leaving me for dead... or actually dead. Last I heard they'd crossed that line some time ago." The scavenger touched her neck at the thought, sending a diminished chill down our spines. She visualized all that for us so well while sifting through her scrapped cart, bending warped metal and compromised wood. Her strong gestures and motions were all very helpful visual aids to say the least. "And this little thing here would be wasting away in the dirt. Its potential untapped, or so I’m told."

In spite of the mixed emotions that presentation imparted, the happy coincidence left Mergo beside herself. I couldn't help but prod just a bit more. "That..gross thing...has potential?" Janky voice actor would be proud of my inflection.

"Magick isn't my cup of tea, so I don't question what magefolk deem fit for their mumbo-jumbo." She commented in a shrug.

"And this 'thing of great value,' is it assured?"

"Well, I got to see the goods and a swell demonstration of it. So as far as I'm concerned, yes."

"But you still have hair as far as I can see. Why not use that instead?" I asked further, pointing meekly to the scruffy tuft sticking out of her hood.

"Well, the artificer I met with was especially particular about this bag. It has a spell of sorts upon that helps him verify the veracity of what I return. So if I didn't return it in this bag, the deal would've been off," she answered before returning to the work before her.

All that negativity reversed in a one-eighty and burst from Mergo in fits and giggles. "Woweewow! We are heroes after all, Midlight! We saved someone from getting mugged and got the mcguffin back safely too."

It irked me that she made light of a dangerous situation so nonchalantly. "And we nearly got ourselves killed along the way, too. Isn’t that a shame?"

"No, they would have kidnapped you both and sold you in the black market! Humes straight out of legend is nothing to scoff over."

At her clarification, I clutch myself in consolation for having narrowly avoided that fate.

"‘Almost’ being the operative word here. We’re safe and sound, and did something good!" She patted me on the back to chase my anxiety away. And as much as I hated to admit, she was right. In spite of the danger we missed, it was all so...exhilarating, and good to help someone.

"Isn’t that right…uh, what was your name again?" Now that she mentioned it, it flustered me that for all what we've been through, we at least didn't ask her name.

"Hmm? Oh yes, that’s right. We didn’t have the most conventional of introductions, didn’t we?" The scavenger chuckled and promptly stood to unwrap the tatters off her face, letting unkempt pink hair fall gradually from their scruffy bindings to relatively straight shoulder length. Just like the lizardman from before, her face eerily resembled that of a person's. Though instead of a replite, her general features matched that of a horse or...a pony maybe? Albeit a strawberry face and blue eyes more capable of expression as evidenced by that smirk. "Parnella’s the name, and don't wear it out," she said as she pulled back her decidedly more pink hair into a knot.

Just as I was surprised to hear that lizardman speak, I was nearly at a loss of words that I almost forgot to introduce Mergo and myself in return. “Uhh..my name’s Midlight. That’s just my nickname by the way, and this here is Mergo.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Midlight and Mergo." After introducing ourselves, she resumed sifting through her scrap cart.

"Woweewozaa," Mergo whispered, leaning in close.

Her volume betrayed by all her suppressed glee. I on the other hand, my own disbelief was as plain as much as my mouth was agape like a fish's.

"Woweewozaa!" Mergo repeated in a booming whisper while vigorously shaking me silly from my shoulders.

"We really are in another world, Mergo."

"Yes, we are! What was your first clue, silly. And of all people, you're the last person I'd expect to doubt things like this! Isn't it time to throw all that excess caution in the trash where it belongs?" I didn't know what was more perplexing now, the fact of our current, strange circumstance in another world, or Mergo making more sense by the minute. "Look, look, she coming round. So I'm gonna tell you what we're going to do; we're going to stop being so darn careful for awhile and go with the flow. Okay?"

I sighed...and nodded.

"Great! You won't regret this, I promise!" She finished with utmost surety as Parnella approached.

"What are you two talking about behind my back, huh?" She teased with a sizeable box in tow.

"Oh, nothing. Just a little pep talk to shake off these tourist inhibitions of hers." Mergo said on my behalf as I composed myself. She nodded knowingly, apparently satisfied with the answer. "Say, what's that you got there, Parnella?"

Her smirk widened as Mergo addressed the box she brought back from the heap. "Well, those thugs might have pinched me for all the scrap I salvaged. But it doesn’t mean they’ve taken everything of worth."

She opened the box to reveal...a tea set? "My only luxury in this world." The worn yet dainty affair clinked delicately in the wooden container as she made extra effort to set it down carefully.

"Hehehehe," I couldn't help but chuckle at the sedate and pleasant change of pace. Glancing to my side, Mergo could only restrain her disappointment behind a placating smile, which seemed enough to fool Parnella this first time round.

"Is something wrong?" Parnella asked.

Mergo kept mum, so I spoke, or rather snorted, up. "Ugh... No, nothing's wrong. Please continue."

"Mergo, Midlight... Consider this as thanks." She paused in noticing the evolving twilight, looking to the coming darkness. At the sight, a smile went wide on her face. "Mmm, auspicious timing. The night is coming to join us."

Having come back to the meadowed side, we had chosen to make camp in the middle of circular stone floor situated right before the slop, good, dry and parted from the dew sprinkled grass around us. She took a flint in hand to spark a fire with some tinder and wood she gathered. It illuminated the waning daylight as the stars themselves had yet to set in. Setting various china to their places, she took hold of those tea-making implements and began...well, making tea. She even had water carried in jug, though it looked a bit murky as she poured it in the dim light.

It didn't take long for her to finish brewing it, not long enough for Mergo to pipe in a grumbling complaint. It smelled good. The winds returned just in time, and seemed to agree with me in this case. They took the scent of mint in their breeze and carried it in a gentle waltz around the meadow. Then and there, the three of us savored the experience. A brisk and clear night opening to a glinting canvas of stars, the zesty aroma of the tea wafting in a playful dance with the scent of spring, and the lingering warmth of the drink itself running down to settle in our bellies that duly needed it. These moments were simply...good.

"Ooh...are these what stars look like?" Parnella wondered in amazement, breaking the silence and serenity.

What she said caught me off for a second. "Wait, you've never seen stars before?"

"No, not even a glint through the gray sky. It's almost perpetually dreary where I'm from... It's so beautiful..." The tear in her eye running down her face as she answered had caught me off as well. Seeing stars in the sky, it was a blessing. The thought of not being able to see them was a world one step closer to darkness, and I dreaded even being in her shoes.

"If memory serves right, there's an old legend to this place," Parnella spoke again in wiping the tear, before the silence could settle once more.

Oh, did I suddenly stop talking and make things awkward? Not that I minded talking more, but it had been dragging on for a while now.

"Legends told of these castle gardens in the cursed Pony capital, where a pact was made. A decision to forsake duty and leave behind the ways of yore..." She paused for a moment, either to recall the legend's exact detail or ponder it herself. "In any case, the gardens were special and not just anyone could enter. Might explain why the bangaa only ever saw barren grounds when they peeped through. Why I waived this place off myself in the first place. There must be some powerful wards protecting this place when you consider the stark difference of the sky. Though that wouldn't explain why it let two humes in for a fancy frolic through the flowers." Thoughts of the careless jaunt prior to meeting her caused me to hide an oncoming sneer. I didn't want to think about the grief she gave me, but listening to Parnella go on gave me some solace. "Not that anyone even remembers this place anyway, much less bygone legends. Though seeing you two here and that those lizards didn't get a whiff of us, I'd say there's some credence to those tales. All the more, I'm astonished I ever found my way her in the first place! A place lost to legend."

Lifting her cup to see it empty, she took the kettle in hand to refill it. It still struck me curious that a pony would stand on legs and have hands like us. But deep down, I somehow knew it wasn't curious at all. "But enough of that. So Midlight, how did you two end up here exactly?"

It was hard to come up with a straight answer to that, yet I managed my words so I wouldn't tell Mergo's secret.

"Well...simply put, Mergo was under a lot of pressure back home, and she just wanted to go away for a while. I suggested she leave for a short getaway at this secluded spot, supposedly sacred to our own local legend, and she ended up here. After making sure we wouldn’t be disturbed, I followed soon after to keep an eye on her." That was the gist of it, really, even when based upon half truths.

Speaking of Mergo, she seemed to have her interest in scraping rocks against the old relief on the stone, just within the fire's light. Looked like she had finally settled down to a more sedate pace.

"Is that so... Then are you two sisters? You both certainly act the part...and your faces, it's almost as if you were...reflections of each other," she commented, not short of questions herself. Her choice of word had put her off in some way, but she shook it off as she awaited my answer.

Hmm...this wasn't going to be easy.

"Well, not in the way you think... It’s hard to explain... I-I just get so caught up, trying to manage her on a day to day basis, I kinda… forget things. I guess the only one who can tell you that is Mergo--"

"Yes, we are!" The devil pounced when spoken of, butting in on our solemn conversation quite suddenly.

"Bwuh?"

"We’re sisters, and that’s that!" At her unabashed, no second thoughts answer, I couldn't help but blush. "And Mewt too!". And then she slumped back and fell on her bum, still feeling drowsy from the tea.

"What now?"

Ugh, is she talking gibberish again?

"Um, if you could repeat that please," Parnella asked.

"Ah, just some weird trendy card creature, and Mergo being weird in general. So never you mind."

Stifled levity hit critical mass, and her sniggers cascaded into robust laughter. "Hahahahaha, you two are so mundane! I like it!"

Mundane, huh… I guess I could take that as a complement. I actually preferred things that way.

The winds kept on blowing a calming breeze through the meadows. The grass rustled and swayed in the passing currents, filling the vacant night with a lush melody as only Mother Nature could sweetly sing.

"It’s so beautiful here," Parnella commented, downing the last of her tea.

"No scrounging through the wastes, no pervasive and oppressive smoggy gray, no derelict ruins past every corner..." These words didn't seem like some passing complaint about trivial inconveniences. "And most of all no ungrateful princesses to please... If only the rest of the world were like this too." While I didn't catch on too well to any of those things, everyone had some on-going hardships and struggles they wanted wished away. I could only fleetingly relate, yet still I had nothing to say.

"It’s going to be."

We turned around to see Mergo, hunkered down cozily with another cup of tea. It seemed she was answering Parnella's train of thought, so she asked, "Come again?"

"I just know it," she simply responded.

"Now, Mergo, don’t say things you don’t know for certain."

"Oh yeah?" There it was, her headbutting face. "Well I just said I do. What are you going to do about it?"

"Well first off, I’m going to laugh my face off when you prove yourself wrong! Then I'm going to put in a order for some high quality aloe, on account of you burning yourself!"

"We’ll just see then, won’t we?" That sounded like a challenge. This place was really getting her all riled up for some reason. But then she simmered down, finished her tea and stood. "It’s late now. We better get going."

At her words, my own legs tensed at the ready, eager and poised to stand. "What, are you joking?"

Parnella set down her cup. "Leaving already?"

"I guess we are. I'm just so surprised that Mergo’s the one to get up and go first. I'm the one who usually has to do the coaxing." As much as I scratched my head on her change of heart, there was no helping it. We hadn't been here that long, and yet already we'd been here long enough. Mergo was right, it was time to get going now.

"Oh, ok then... Will I ever see you sisters again?" She asked as we all stood up and patted grass off ourselves. Sisters... The word struck me odd, yet tickled a fanciful sentiment I never knew I held.

Mergo beamed with confidence, and beelined into the pony person, taking her in an unabashed hug. Her impertinence caused a slight ache to my head and I brought up a hand to pinch at the offended area. Though I really should have expected this, so I relented my annoyance and released it with a doted and knowing sigh.

"You can count on it, Parnella!" Both of them smiled, if a bit sad at this sudden parting.

Hand in hand, Mergo and I made for the meadow's edge, following directions as whispered to us when we first came here.

"Next time then," Parnella bade with a wave.

“Goodbye,” I said.

Parnella flew up along with the meadow in a blur as we fell headlong down the cliff. In the stead of unforgiving jagged rocks and turbulent waters, a shroud of darkness enveloped us.

A shroud of darkness pervaded around me as far I could see. It became dark around me so suddenly, I almost forgot the picturesque afternoon. The low-hanging sun that dipped in the the horizon and gave way to dazzling starlight. That beautiful meadow ending over a vast and dark sea below. The oddball stranger with the pony face... Wasn't I falling off a cliff just now? Weren't we falling off a cliff just now, Mergo and I? Of all people to see standing up, I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed it was her.

Was I dreaming all that, or did I just die?

...

Of course I wasn’t dead. I imagined death would have been a lot colder and more silent than this clambered and disorganized void. No, not a void, but it was certainly black around me. I could make things out moving in the cover of dark. Not just indiscernible shapes and masses, but figures, silhouettes... and sounds. Two figures moving up and down as if walking on stairs. The rustling of paper and clothes, and the clinking of cases shut to a close.

Hmm, kinda boring. If I ever was still sleeping, then this definitely was nothing I'd be dreaming about. Nor would I be so aware.

A sharp clanging sound cracked into my ears, causing my world to tremble terribly. And in a wayside echo, brief sobs and the trickles of tears made their faintest way to my ears. Boredom wore away as I processed their meaning and felt the beginning of concern take root, but it was too late. Hidden seams made themselves known by coming apart and letting bright light flood in. It chased the brittle darkness, forcing it to recede, crumble away, and reveal the things it hid.

Now there was only sand, gross itchy sand. Ugh.

It clumped in the corner of my eyes, taking only an absent-minded scratch to flick away. I was sitting in bed, alone in the middle of my cluttered room. Light filtered through the curtains, and past the ray of sunshine cast over its reflective face, I was still able to tell the time from my digital clock. It was eight-thirty in the morning and the air was cold but only briskly so. I could have sworn someone came in earlier. I even remembered having closed the door shut last night, but now it peeked a slight crack open. Did someone come in before I woke up? Whatever, so long as they didn't touch my stuff. Now, first order of business of the day, relieving myself in the bathroom. With that out of the way, the second order of business came to mind.

“Mom! Dad!” I yelled for my parents while scratching my head. While our house wasn’t that big, all I got in response was an echo. Good thing I freshened up just now or I would have never been able to pick up on the car subtly humming to life in the garage.

“Hello! Hello, hello! Real mom! Real dad!” I yelled some more and playfully to get their attention. The things I do to stay awake.

After idly wandering downstairs and into the kitchen, mom popped out from the door that went into the garage. Her veined eyes and the bags under them betrayed the spick and span suit she had put on. “There’s no Beldam in this house, honey. Stop shouting like that.” The folder resting in her arms flew open in her slack grip, spilling out important looking documents on the floor. Maybe we shouldn’t have watched that movie so late.

“Oh, are you two leaving already? I thought that wasn't until tonight,” I wondered.

“Didn't you catch the note we left you in your room? Well anywho, our supervisor phoned in this morning. Literally on the crack of dawn, the savage... I mean who does that!” She recounted with a low growl. Going down on a knee to pick up her files, she went on talking. “The idiot mistook the departure time for evening when it was really scheduled at noon, so we barely have a couple of hours to make it in time for boarding. And this trip might take longer than usual too. Your dad is close to sealing the deal for the company.”

Coming out of the garage with an empty glass in one hand, Dad chimed in while securing his tie. “What your mom meant to say is that deal is as good a closed. I've got it all figure out, so nobody needs to worry about anything. And getting this new investor in means a raise for both of us. Smart people like us can always use more money, right?”

He was…exuberant today, if nothing else. That wide-eyed gaze and near pearly-white smile on his face exuded a confidence that contrasted mom’s and my own morning disposition. We were never both morning persons.

“Poor choice of words, Jerry,” Mom told him off with a pinch to the bridge of her nose. “You’re making us seem like neglectful corporate gears in front of our own daughter.”

“Well, it’s still true. After this raise, we’ll be able to afford so much more. We'll even have enough to afford trips to Balfonheim and visit Connie for a change.” Thoughts of the seaside resort state evoked a tangy invigoration mixed in with the salty breeze. “We can even bring Kirk with us if you want,” he went on to add with a know-it-all chuckle.

"Oh. Sure, whatever," I merely replied while crossing my arms.

It was a very emotional and sensitive time for me, for all of us, but it annoyed me whenever he poked fun at my side of the ordeal! Ugh!...deep breath, deep breath, Agatha. You didn't have to deal with this in the morning, and Dad hadn't really meant anything by that. Just a playful jab. In any case, all this talk about raking in dough and family vacations, I had forgotten I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet, which manifested as a low rumbling from my tummy.

"Are you sure you'll be fine without us?"

“I'm sure, Mom. More importantly, you two work super hard to bring the bacon. That means all I have to do is hold down the fort, and everything will be fine. Speaking of Kirk, he doesn’t get out of town much so he’ll jump at any chance to along for the ride,” I said while rummaging through the fridge and grabbing a carton of orange juice.

“Then go invite him. I’ll be doing one last check, honey,” he told me before addressing mom. I guessed dad was just in the zone today.

Mom huffed a tired sigh to shake off her usual morning dispositions. She turned to me with an appreciating smile. "It means so much to us that you understand. We’ll have Davis drop by once in a while to check on things. Take care of the house, honey." She kissed me goodbye on the forehead.

"Did you say something?" Dad asked popping back in from the garage.

"No, not you. The smaller honey, our daughter?"

Barring the hum of the car as it rolled out of the garage, that was the last I saw and heard of them. I was alone at home now. And it was boring! I stood there for awhile, at a loss for what to do with the free time I found on my hands. Then I remembered I actually had a schedule to keep today. It didn't make the goings any less dull though.

With a commencing sigh, I started off for the bathroom, hopeful that a cold shower would fully wake me and get me revving for the day. As I slipped into a casual white-t and fit jeans, I kept reminding myself not to lie down in bed. Mom was notorious for sleeping through damp hair in her younger years, a habit she occasionally fell back to when work would come down hard. Apparently a trait that was passed on to me. With hair soaked and skin cold but not shivering, I watched the bits of bacon and tomato swirl in the beaten egg, omelette it became sizzling into a golden brown while the heat wafting off the stove dried me off further. The drier had broken awhile back anyway, and I was already pressed for time, so this was quite a way to multitask. Kirk would be here soon. I just hoped he would smell this breakfast food coming off me. That would be kinda gross. With the addition of toast, some strawberry jam and a bit more orange juice, breakfast was checked away. Though as I left the dishes and cooking implements to soak in the sink and made way over to the TV, I recalled that I had yet to make my bed. Oh well, there was probably nothing on that I liked anyway, and so long as I didn't sit on the bed, it would be fine. It didn't take long to make my bed, and I figured since I'd be the only one here for half a week, I might as well give a damn and tidy the rest of my room as well. This didn't take long either, but the final scrap I found crunched underfoot.

Picking it up, I would've thrown it in the bin with all the other trash had I not glanced on the messaged scribbled on it. It was Mom's sticky note. The letters were smudged and felt faintly wet to touch... That's right, today was the day. A tear welled in the corner of my eye, though I convinced myself it wasn't wrung from sorrow. At least Mom didn't bawl over it so much anymore. If she was moving on, then so could I. Wiping the errant tear away, the bell at the front door rang out. Taking my jacket in hand, I hurried down to answer it, knowing who was here.

"Anyone home? Agatha? Mister and Misses Midlight?" A voice called as I neared and placed a hand on the knob.

"They already left, Kirk," I answered, swinging the door open. There Kirk stood, unabashed with that same cargo pants and green 'en garde' shirt combo I had seen him wearing when he updated his profile after a late party with his club last night. The only thing missing was the windbreaker he wore to stave off the cold, which I guessed he had just left in his car. And if that wasn't enough, his bed hair tousled up even more just to cover up the fact and the...musk both drove it home that he didn't even take a bath. Ugh, jocks.

"Oh. I thought it that was them stopping by my place a while ago," he added with an obstinate yawn that exuded morning breath. God, cover your mouth! "So you ready to go?"

"Uh, give me a minute. Need to make sure," I simply stated with a thumb pointed back, to which Kirk nodded.

After locking the house down, I rejoined Kirk and made mention of my parents' whereabouts as well as a bit of the earlier conversation. "This business trip is a big deal, but apparently my dad has it all under wraps now," I told, locking the front door behind me. "So much so, he told me to go ahead and invite you to come along."

"Wow, that’s really generous of him," Kirk noted with an earnest grin at the prospect of mooching off us. "Of course, I’ll take him up on that offer. The food, the beaches, the babes. A free trip to Balfonheim is just too good to pass." Hook, line, and sinker. I expected no less from this moocher.

"Ugh, boys. Come on, dummy. It’s time to meet up with Connie," I told him, leading the walk to his car.

The ride was relatively silent bar the passing of other cars, the backdrop noise of the beautifully sunny yet partly cloudy day, and the static of the buggy reception as Kirk tried to home into a station. When he finally found one, Kirk broke small talk...or what he considered as such anyway.

"I almost forgot to mention. My dad said he'd be dropping by sometime for the next few days. I guess that's what they were talking about when they dropped by, eh?"

I had almost dozed off when he chimed in, and it felt strange to reply almost automatically while coming out of my daze. Still, did that only click in his head now? Wasn't a fencing jock like him supposed to have a sharp mind? "My parents already told me about that. Doesn't your dad have work?"

"He sprained an ankle during one of his jobs, so the security firm is giving him a few days to keep off it. Though it looks like he's better for the most part. Yesterday he walked Clarence around for a few blocks, and after your parents went, he left for his shift in the neighborhood watch," he clarified, coming to a stop at an intersection, the one that marked the city limits.

"Ah, I see," I absentmindedly replied.

In my semi-conscious state, it took me awhile to notice we had just entered downtown Cyril. The place was as filthy as it usually was. Like a piece of modern art that had lost most of its shiny finish with some of the plaster chipping away. Not a complete mess like Sphrom next province over, but this was home. Not only that, the facade of this steadily growing concrete jungle was a source of pride for many Cyrilians. The city had its historic yet humble beginnings in the late golden age of Ivalice, but that wasn't the story you came to hear, was it? Don't whine, don't whine! This won't be too long.

Anywho, Cryil had been a small town ever since its founding and had only begun to catch up in the last eight decades or so. Back then, there had also been heaps of surrounding rubble, once old houses and castles at some point, all sitting where the city stood now. Not only that but tradition long held by elders told of the underground ruins the town had been built over, claims which were never proven yet still remembered fondly in legends. Regardless everyone agreed it was for the better. As the town and the surrounding landscape were swept up in a wave of modernization and became a city, its face had changed many times. So much so, not two decades after, everything was a jumbled mess, all scrunched and mushed up together. It wasn't pretty looking at old pictures. New buildings on top of old ones or next to each other, sometimes twisting, turning and even melding indiscernibly. At the time, seeing a demolition or two every month wasn't uncommon.

Those were the days, Dad would say. When he'd go and get in trouble with Mom, Uncle Eli and Aunt Bronagh, exploring the condemned buildings like the rascals they were. He even said they stumbled upon a spooky old timey gate complete with a seal! Neither of them remembered much about it though, and I doubted whatever they saw was still there now.

In any case, back then they had simply taken the rubble laying around and used them to build new structures, all of which were old now. Every brick, stone and tile churned and shaped from the refuse was unimpressively drab and of a brittle grey hue, looking like they were about to give and crumble in a matter of months. But somehow they lasted longer than anyone thought, in spite of the fears and lawsuits. They had even tried tearing down one recently, but it had proven more difficult to demolish than some 'better' buildings. And so, proudly as the old legend's claimed, Cyril kept those drab and grey building, earning the place the nickname 'Phoenix Downtown.' Some fogeys in the city council even had a vote to make every other building look take up the aesthetic. Not that I paid much attention to that. And not too ironic either given the fact that this place, uptown and the whole region in general kept to a stick-in-the-mud mindset. From the historic ashes of the old came a new old with far less flair and more corporate jargon, hence my parents' jobs. Not to mention the sort of trashy streets I've come to know in my younger years. Nothing too exciting ever happened here, but we were all still so proud for some reason.

Still pride accounted for nothing if nothing really happened. As poised and developing as this place was economy-wise, it was just as boring as the rest of the province. Even as thoughts of its apparently rich history zoomed through my mind, all I could really think was 'meh.'

A commercial plane roared just a few hundred feet above us, reminding me that the airport was close by. Thoughts returned and pondered over that earlier conversation with my parents and I realized something.

"You know, hearing them talk about the business trip and the vacation to Balfon is kinda depressing in retrospect," I mumbled over my slouched position, almost sinking into the seat.

"How so?"

A crick in my back threatened to snap, so I righted myself. "Well, it's only been a month, but it's almost like they've forgotten."

"About what?"

Come on, Kirk. A month is a month, but somethings just... "Well you know..."

"Oh, that." He finally remembered. "I know it's not easy dealing with both their younger siblings suddenly passing away in a freak accident, but isn't that ancient news at this point? Maybe working harder is your parents' way of channeling her loss."

Way too blunt for my liking, you dummy. But he still had a point. Tonight was the eve of 'that' anniversary, and of all days, Mom and Dad just so happened to leave for business today. "It's been six years to the day, Kirk. I suppose mom's been coping well enough, but she still cries at night. I heard her crying when she slipped a note in my room. And Dad's also been working his butt off picking up her slack when it gets too much for her. I guess he's just better at not showing it. But it's not just Uncle Eli and Aunt Bronagh I'm talking about. It's just that all this talk about vacations, Balfonheim, and inviting you along especially, you'd think a certain someone would cross their minds..." And sometimes even talking just didn't help with the healing. "You know what, nevermind."

"Uh, okay," Kirk acquiesced, not following my train of though at all.

The bozo. He'd been a fencing jock for most of the time I knew him, but he should know by now! It was almost like he never saw things my way. Even after my disastrously embarrassing introduction back in fourth grade... I guessed it couldn't be helped with these dense types. Man, was it tiring with only Kirk around. Wish Connie was here already.

The relative silence had now turned even more so as we crossed the intersection and joined more traffic. Noises came in from everywhere. It all congealed into an auditory mess that sounded muzzled from within the confines of the car, only to be topped by the soothing Chocotune jazz coming from the radio. The garbled mess of input and the lack of anything distinctly eye-catching gave reason for my breath to turn shallow and my eyes feel heavy-lidded, so I took the opportunity to take a nap.

There I slept lightly but dreamt longingly. A smile broke on my face unbidden in the brief and shallow wade through memory, though I indulged it nonetheless.

"Mergo! Wait up, will you?" I called to my cousin who ran into the forest eagerly and wide-eyed. We had only just met an hour or so ago, but it already felt like we knew each other for...a long, long time. And it was so tiring to know her.

The day blinked and turned gray as the biggest cloud I'd ever seen rolled in and overcast the sky. It drenched everything in a sudden downpour, yet she forged on without a care in the world. Like any good girl, I listened to my parents, who told me to keep well under the umbrella and not wander farther than the gazebo. Mergo on the other hand, she had another idea. The brick path that lead to the woods behind the house was too tempting for her, and I just couldn't leave her alone. And I did say I would look out for her, but the audacity of this girl was too much to not ignore, zooming and slipping and running circles around me, not caring about staying clean even after our parents explicitly told us otherwise. Well, it's her own fault if she got a stern talking-to later on!

Keeping myself clean here in this dirty backyard forest was already hard enough. But the moss that crept on the bricks and the slippery incline made it difficult for my dainty footing to find purchase. One misstep inevitably found me and I was impelled to tumble down terribly, probably into some rock or log, or perhaps all the way down the hill and hurt myself even more. Briefly the thought crossed my mind, that I would have to crawl my way back up the hill, covered in cuts and bruises while Mergo lackadaisically went on, leaving me to cry and sulk in my lonesome back at the cottage for the rest of the day. But then she came out of nowhere, holding my arm up with an entranced grin on her face before I could fall any further. The bottom half off of her raincoat was covered with mud. I swore I saw a worm crawling round her leg just now, and I cringed back at its sight.

"Come on, Midlight! It's not much further," She let go of me and jumped straight back into mud, sliding down the hill so recklessly and happy-go-lucky... It all looked so fun.

"What are you taking about, Mergo? And I have a proper name, you know! We're both Midlights!" I was eager to clarify, if only to get her to slow down for a second and listen to me.

"No, not you, Agatha. I mean Midlight, as in midlight," she yelled from the bottom of the small hill with her hands off to the side like she was presenting something or someone...with quite a bit of pride too.

It was a miracle any of that got through over the pouring rain. Speaking of which, I still had to be careful, as I was only just halfway down after all. "Well, if you don't mean 'Midlight' as in our dads' names, then what is a midlight?"

"She's my best friend in the whole world! It's what I named her!" Oh, this again. I had overheard Mom and Aunt Bronagh talking. It was one of the reason they came all this way from Bervenia. Everyone at her school had been picking on her for this. "I named her after the reflection of light."

"Hmm, a don't you mean that science word, 'refraction?'" I asked, finally touching down to the bottom and joining her.

My words caught her right before she was going to jump into a puddle. "Well sorta. But that word is boring so I chose better name." And with that, Mergo indulged, splashing muddy water all over me. I should have seen this coming, it was right in front of me! Oh well, at least I had a raincoat on myself. "That's an awfully big word for a six and a half year old."

Wiping off the water from my face, it honestly crossed my mind to push her back into the mud for getting me dirty! But thinking about, she would have liked thatanyway. And I really couldn't stay mad at her, seeing her own face covered in goofy muddy makeup. Dropping my umbrella, I giggled and joined her in the puddle, which caused her to tumble back into the mud with a splash. "Silly, we're both six and a half year olds!"

"Sister, you have no idea!" She sassed with a wag of her grimy finger.

We laughed our heart out in that muddy puddle, tiny voices drowned by the rain that poured down in the old forest that loomed all around us. The leaves falling off and sticking to out raincoats, the dirt clinging to our hands and feet, the smell of the rain on the ground, and the specks of midlight fluttering between the raindrops. I couldn't tell her she got me to use her lingo just like that, but it was just so fun being with her. Looking back, I hadn't given details of it notice then, but this single moment had become precious to me without my knowing.

The scene etched itself in my memory and here it remained in my dreams.

"Gah!" I braced myself, feeling my rump leave the seat a good inch. Had I not held my hand to the roof of the car in time, I would have bumped my head too. "Hey, easy on your clutch, will you? You've got a passenger here!"

"Oh, a thousand pardons, your highness! Please find it in your heart to forgive this lowly student driver!" Kirk even did that ye olde wave with his hand, the dork. "We've arrived, by the way."

In any case, that nap was well-deserved, and it felt I had caught up on another night's worth of rest. After a pleasant dream like that, who wouldn't? Though I wished I could have gone on sleeping and continued the dream. Hmm, maybe that explained why I wasn't a morning person.

Pulling on the handle, the amicable facade of the old Lhusu-Centurio train station opened up from behind the door. As the sun eased into the middle of the sky, we quickly strode in to avoid its harsh gaze. Stemming from one of the earliest established railroads in all of Ivalice, the station was already hard at work accommodating trains and passengers alike as diligent staff went about operating like clockwork. Unlike bigger cities such as Eagrose and Bervenia with their crowded and efficiently busy transit metros, our burg's humble station treated itself more like an airport, catering to a rustic and boisterous ambience that imparted progressive industry and the sentiment of journey. Just being at arrivals and departures was enough to evoke wanderlust. And it was here at one such arrival gate, that I spotted our dear friend, bearing the patience of an island in the middle a current of station goers coming to and fro. A chic-looking island that is.

It was hard not to spot her anyway. Seeing the crispness of her trendy red tailored coat, and the lack of ruffles on her baby blue turtle neck top and beige capri pants, it was as if she pulled them right out of her bags just before she stepped off the train. To top it off, the beret and sunglasses she sported on only made her stand out even more amongst the collar workers, students and station staff. Balfon may have changed her on the outside, but a painted stick was no less different when stuck in the mud. There were layers to peel. It was almost funny to watch her be so aloof in such a moving crowd, only to turn a one-eighty the moment she would see us.

"Oh my gosh! Aggie, Kirk! I’ve missed you guys so much!" And turn a one-eighty she did.

Her face practically lit up and so did ours, though more reservedly. The ruckus she caused caught the attention of everyone immediately around her, and following her line of sight, their gazes fell upon us as well. Putting two and two together, they all parted--in an almost biblical fashion, a straight path between us to avoid the bowling ball of energy that was Connie and unfortunate pinheads that we were as she beelined right for us. It didn't even occur to her that her hat had fallen off in her mad dash, and she nearly toppled me over on contact too, as Kirk caught the sizeable luggage she had in tow.

Regardless of the scene she made, we shrugged the glances off. Her embrace was almost vice-like, and though I returned the gesture, I couldn't quite reciprocate its intensity. "It feels like it’s been years, how've you been?" She asked, her face still buried into my chest.

"Pretty much the same, you know how it is here. Umm, is something wrong, Connie?" I asked as her hug tightened.

"It's nothing, just had a bad dream on the way. And it's just really good to see you." Though her hug grew warmer, her grip tightened again, and for that, a cracked snapped right in the midst off us. Lifting her head, it seemed the sunglasses she wore had suffered greatly for our intimate display and broke clean down the middle, half of it falling to the ground.

"Are you kidding me?" Kirk chimed in, picking up half the glasses and returning it along with her hat.

Realizing the beret was off her head, she blushed and shied away, tidying the bed head she had worn it for.

"And I'm here too, if you didn't notice. By the way, any tasty treats they served you along the way? I haven't eaten breakfast yet." Ugh, Kirk was practically grovelling in my eyes.

Her fluster forgotten, she rummaged through her backpack and pulled out a bunch of iffy-looking train branded bars and nut snacks. "Got’cha covered. And don't worry about those. They do have thrift shops over there."

"Aw, sweet. Thanks, Connie," Kirk replied, not minding the broken eyewear any more. With his large hands, he pocketed the treats in his jacket like some gerbil before heading back to the car with her luggage.

"That guy never changes, does he," Connie mused smugly while zipping her bag. "If I could sneak them over from first class, he'd be stoked to have cold day old train food, wouldn't he?"

"He's a simple guy who thinks with his stomach. He'd be pleased with whatever we bring him." Being friends for years, she would have known that about Kirk. Though considering she had moved away three years ago yet still bothered to keep up with us since then, I should cut her some slack.

We talked about many things on our ride away from the station. Being in a developing city out in the country, the still water traffic of the late morning had caught us in its current straight away. The cars in front of us billowed trails of exhaust, giving Connie cause to make some on and off comments about the smog. Mostly about tasting smidgens of CO2 in the air-conditioning. After awhile they seemed less like comments and more like complaints, ones specifically about air pollution and emissions, things I couldn't give a crap about out of nowhere. Kirk however cared more to entertain her on the matter with his own thoughts as a student driver with more hours in. Looked like Balfonheim did some other number on her too. Though seeing as she still went out of her way to keep this much in touch, there was no denying where her true roots lied. Like the saying goes, Cyril at home, Cyril at heart.

We were halfway out of those slogging lanes by the time Connie finally lost some of her steam and dozed off. I on the other hand, having had my own nap earlier, couldn't really fall asleep at the moment, so I lazily watched everything inch by as indulgently as the traffic lights would allow. And to my annoyance they were egregiously generous about it. We sat in traffic for almost an hour before we were finally free to head back to the suburbs.

Trees and hills rolled by, coming to a crawl as we slowed down to turn into our subdivision's main gate. "So I was thinking, I did make express trips coming over and I'm really tired for it," Connie began after announcing her wakefulness from the back with a loud yawn. "But you know, I feel like I can just perk back up after a snack. Then we can go out on the town. How's that sound?"

"Sounds good, Connie. But we might have to take things slower this time round. We’ve got someone else pick up," I answered, peeling my gaze from the window to check my phone. It was a little more than half past eleven now.

"Oh…so when did we become a quartet?"

The little comment of hers got me to quirk my head. What was that supposed to mean...

"About a month ago," Kirk answered while making a turn.

"Is that so... Umm, isn't old Migelo’s place around here?" She asked not particularly interested as we made another turn into the old lone road, seeing we had passed my house.

"Well on paper, the property wasn't his for years now. He was only staying here as a tenant and moved out just awhile ago. The folks who bought the place, relatives of mine, had plans to spruce the place up. They had wanted to move here down the line." I can still remember that rainy day, meeting her for the first time. She had only waved back as I walked by the car with her, sitting idly in the back seat with an indifferent stare at whatever she looked. Then the mood had changed when she stepped out of the car and I had gotten to know her.

"So what, are they here now? I just hope they aren't those annoying relative types..."

"Yeah, about that..." I trailed off in a sheepish tone for the uphill battle I realized this encounter would become. I would have went on, but it seemed she didn't hear me. Oh well, they'll be meeting soon anyway. Whether they'd hate or love each other, I'll just have to see how the die would cast.

We exited the car and took in the sight of the homely two story cottage sitting in the middle of the woods. Off to the side was a plain shed with a shanty attached for cars to park under. The recent memory of helping clean that place out when old Migelo moved out crept up in mind. Even when he didn't own the place anymore, he still acted like it and lorded us over. The endearing geezer always knew how to push my buttons. Not to mention all the crazy stories he told us. I wondered where he was now...

Walking up to the cottage, I knocked on the front door while Connie and Kirk waited by the car. "Hey, it's Agatha. You up?" There was no answer, so I tried jiggling the doorknob, to which it resisted. Even the windows didn't budge. Strange, she usually doesn't lock up in the day...

"Mergo's not in, but she's probably over by the back."

Connie stepped forward. "Hey Aggie, I don't want to sound antsy..." Really now. In fact, you already did. "But if she isn't here, why don't we come back later?"

First she had wondered about this fourth addition to our tight knit circle, and now she was suggesting we bolt. Seemed my work was really cut out for me, undoing all the kinks Balfon's done on her. Again. "I'd rather not leave her alone. And besides we're already here. I promise it won't take long!" I pleaded to her with my hand clasped together.

"If you say so," she huffed, seeming placated before turning to Kirk. "Who's this Mergo again? She seems like a big deal to Aggie," she said to him in a haughty whisper as I rounded the corner, which I still heard anyway.

"She's Agatha's cousin." I could faintly hear Connie gasping over the little detail Kirk only began to tell her. "Apparently they were super close when they were young, even before us three were, well, a trio. And reason she's going out of her way is..."

Boy, to see the look on her face. But that was far behind me as far as my ears were concerned. Their words turned indiscernible as what traces of their voices I could still pick up were smothered by the ambience of the surrounding forest. Though the road that lead here wound several times around some very old trees, I always figured this place only lightly tucked into the forest perimeter, not too deep in. I guessed the familiarity of the cottage had always distracted me from the trees that loomed all around. It felt so dense standing in the middle of it all yet felt so open and at the same time... beguiling. I guessed I'd always known it but I only cared to process the thought just now. That if that gazebo didn't stand there a stone's throw away and I stared at woods for too long, I'd forget there was a house behind me at all. Skirting the edge what amounted to the mouth of the forest, the Rozarrian phrase 'call of the void' came to mind.

Looking toward the gazebo itself, there was no one there. Surely she couldn't have been much farther. Then again I should have checked the back door first. Though seeing as eventhe side windows were locked, it would've been locked too. Mergo never locked anything before night.

Nearing the rickety gazebo, the crackled paint of its facade was still welcoming inspire of years of neglect, and on touch the columns were yet sturdy and steadfast. But in passing through it, the creaking floor boards that groaned underfoot were telltale of the termite infestation that gnawed its foundation. Nothing I could do about that. That aside, simply looking around, it was obvious why she gravitated to this place. Quiet, unoppressive and far removed from any interruptions, just as Aunt Bronagh loved it. But I couldn't help but chuckle at the passing memory of the unruly rascals we had been, romping around, ripping up plants and trees, rolling boulders down the hill and disturbing the relative peace. Those times had been a long time ago now, and nothing ever happened here anymore aside from the seasonal mudslide. The moss-covered trail of bricks that lead to the old gazebo had unnoticed for a long time, and so did the trail that lead away from it. Both paths laid obscure beneath a light cover of leaves that crunched underfoot as I made my way. If it weren't for her comings and goings and my own frequent visits, this dipping path into the forest would be covered entirely, a dangerous camouflage for harrowing slope easily slipped upon. From here I looked down to the deep gully that often slicked horribly with mud. In spite of the dangers that nearly had the both of us that distant rainy day, I smiled.

Following the last of the moss-covered bricks, a short wall of bushes came up. Beyond them was a nearly fallen oak that loomed large across a small creek. Looking at its aged and awfully wrinkled bark, I briefly wondered what had almost toppled it over. It must have happened a long time ago when it was still young. Yet seeing the vines crawl along its bark and drop as a curtain over the entrance to its hollow, and watching the tree itself resile in its predicament, thriving even now to cast a lush awning over the creek--it was such an amazing sight to behold no matter how many times I saw it. It had been one of our secret bases when we younger.

Dumb Mergo, why would she ever think to come here in her condition? She wouldn't fit unless she got down and crawled up inside, and the simple act alone would be killer on her back. Dad would freak over the medical bill, and Mom would just freak. Peeking my head into the hollow of the tree, I found no one yet again. Which meant she was either out, which was highly unlikely, or she was further along the forest. Ugh, seriously. God be damned if she actually got the neighborhood watch to leave her alone here, that is if they ever were the ones who brought her here in the first place. They did put it in their schedule to checkup on her sometimes. But 'fun' as they were, Uncle Davis and his crew wouldn't be so brash as to humor her...would they? All this speculating didn't change that no one was here. Looking around, the place was relatively undisturbed save for a trail of footprints from across the creek that lead further into the forest.

From here, it was a light trek along an uphill path from this point. She couldn't have gotten farther than this...unless that princess ordered them to parade her across. Man.

The leaning oak was previously the farthest I had gone before and from here the walk and sights was completely new... Yet, why did I faintly recognize these steps? Or at least some inkling of familiarity in my legs told me so. If I did ever remember this place in the off chance, that meant that Mergo had brought me here before and gave me such a scare that I had forgotten all about it.

Cresting the hill, I came upon a line of incredibly rotund trees, ones that loomed much larger than those behind me. Thick bramble tucked themselves between their trunks and made passing through risky and painful. Looking left and right, the impasse they marshalled seemed unending until I found a break in their stalwart line, an dim entrance that lead deeper into the woods marked by an elder arch that formed from adjoining branches. If the area by the gazebo was the mouth of the forest, this right here seemed twisted and gnarled teeth. The fact that all the branches in the vicinity vaguely pointed to this entrance made it all the more strange. The mere look of them gave me chills. The air seemed to turn thick where I stood, and the warm breeze that drifted in only bade me to come inside. Then came a distant wail that faintly rung my ear, echoing from within as if whatever sat in the darkened shade eagerly awaited the fortuitous traipse of a hapless fool. The more I thought about it, the more I fitted the bill...

With a shake of my head, I set my delusions aside. This was just how things looked like in this neck of the woods, right? Allhad to do was check if Mergo was here. If she wasn't here, then I'd just have to check somewhere else... Or call the neighborhood watch. In and out, over and done with like a flu shot. That's all there was to it.

So...In I went, though the simple task of taking the first steps did necessitate several moments to muster courage on my part. The crunch of leaves, the chirping of birds and the lack of rustling in nearby bushes told me nothing stalked me or seemed out of the ordinary. But as the stretch between me and the entrance behind me grew, the atmosphere turned denser and felt more lived in...or rather it was these woods were alive as I was...in a way. There even was a discernible thrum in the air, along with the static or spark to go along with it. The more I focused on the sensations, the more it felt like I was in a place where I wasn't supposed to be, a world beyond me...

"Snap out of it!" I scolded myself with a wake up slap to my own face

This was ridiculous. I wasn't even that far in yet and I was already letting paranoia gnaw at me. I could still see the way in from here, partly obscured by the foliage down the winding path behind me, but the eerie thing of it was that I distinctly remembered having walked a straight line. The longer I stayed in these neck of the woods, the more I feared the trees themselves were closing in on me, funneling me into a corner. It didn't help at all that the shadows and the shapes that lurked in them were playing tricks with my eyes. My walk through these woods turned dimmer and dimmer with every step, and it came to the point that I was almost mistaking swaying branches for arms, deep hues for darkened eyes and faint moans in the wind for whispers. All these fears on top of my earlier paranoia gave cause for my pace to quicken, as adrenaline impended on trickling into my system.

In a glance back I realized I couldn't see the entrance anymore. It was dim wherever I turned. I was deep in these woods now. The possibility of being lost racked me anxious as I shifted about in search of something familiar. That was when I heard voices--not the wind howling in the distance but actual voices talking, and they were coming from up ahead. With every hesitant step closer, a conversation became discernible though the word were not quite so just yet. Part of me was glad to hear the voices, to meet someone who would tell me I wasn't lost at all. But chalking it up to either a gut feeling or the onset of paranoia, something told me I didn't want to be seen. Whichever it was I fell to my knees and settled into a crawl. Sneaking my way in the bushes on the side, I crept through the undergrowth, doing my best to not mind the scraping branches and stone's and the dirt. Minutes passed by, and I was beginning to tire in, but finally these last branches I parted opened into window at the edge of a furtive glade.

The place was well hidden by the high crowns of the trees which filtered out much of the midday light, and the small path of light in the made for a picturesque scene. But what caught my eye and my undivided attention stood by the light, walking along it. There in the middle of the glade, I caught sight of something unbelievable.

There were two girls taking a casual stroll this deep in the forest. I didn't recognize her at first, but after a good long look at them, there was no doubt she was right there in front of me. It was Mergo. There she was...standing, almost glowing in the light beside someone I didn't know. Surprised as I was, I wanted to shout, to scream over the ridiculousness, the sheer impossibility of what I saw. But seeing her laugh and smile, sharing a nice stroll with a stranger--a stranger who seemingly drew out this side of her so effortlessly as far as I knew, a feeling grated at me. Withstanding her subtleties, I could tell the mask she wore was completely different from the one she had shown in front of Uncle Davis and his buddies, in front of Mom and Dad when they'd come to visit...in front of me. No, not a mask, she wasn't wearing one. Mergo hadn't been like this since we were much younger, since before the accident. For all the things I wanted vented and off my chest, I couldn't make a fuss. I didn't say a peep. I only sat there, watching and wondering, what all this meant and why...why her, and why not me?

"Doesn't it hurt or even bother you in the slightest? We've been running and walking around so much for most of the afternoon." Her companion came to a stop and asked of her. Her voice was familiar yet somewhat distorted. As much as I squinted, I couldn't see this person's face, owing to the dim light that barely broke though swaying canopy high above.

"You know, just because we think alike doesn't mean I can guess your every thought, Midlight," Mergo answered, sounding annoyed.

She called her Midlight... We didn't have any other relatives though, even within Ivalice. Or at least ones our parents didn't tell us about. However I did remember she played around with our surname when we were younger. Who was this girl?

"Just tell me what you want plainly for once."

"Nevermind. It doesn't matter anymore." The girl sighed tiredly, resigning from pursuing her inquiry.

"Come on, you can tell me," Mergo egged on. "There's still a bit of time left."

"No, there isn't. You know there isn't much time left. She's coming tonight, and there are things that still need to be done. There's no running from this anymore." The girl turned away, taking a few steps away from the light. At her words, gloom cluttered in to stifle what cheer their conversation had, slumping Mergo's demeanor as a small dolorous weight.

"Listen, Mergo. You don't have to worry about me. I don't have to worry at all myself. I've thought this through over and over, and you!" She turned and came close to Mergo. The girl held her hands tight, yet I still couldn't see her face, cast dark by the shade. "You've been mulling over this for the longest time, but finally we're making the first steps. We're all moving forward. When she comes, she'll have her way but..." She paused for a moment, either looking for the words or hesitant to say them. "But I'll simply return to where it all started. I'll be there waiting for everyone to come."

Mergo fidgeted away from her hold, looking unsure. "What about Aggie? And Connie and Kirk?"

What the...

"I just told you, didn't I? Everyone is coming!" The girl shook her head, slightly frustrated at Mergo's own hesitance.

How the hell did they know about Connie!? Mergo hadn't even met her yet, let alone this stranger. As beads of sweat fell from my face while I sat in this stuffy bush, the deepening mystery carved another itch in my mind that I desperately wanted scratched.

"And Parnella, she'll be there too, won't she?"

And there came a name I didn't know, flying over the top of my head. Who's this Parnella now...

"She's already there, you dullard! She's been waiting on us for so long now and helping us for even longer. We just need to get up and go!" She held Mergo by her shoulders. "It will all fall into place, so long as we keep moving, and when the dust settles, everything will be better off."

Her eyes shifted around looking for anymore excuses. Mergo found none as she let out her own tired sigh. "We just know it... don't we?"

"It's going to be."

They stood there motionless as statues, ruminating on each other's words while the world moved around them. Moments passed one after the other, and it was only when they moved into a warm embrace in the shade that I realized I was just as stiff myself. The world yet moved around us, smothering us in its sonder. The birds chirped their singsong melody, greenery all around us rustled in the slight breeze, and thin streams of light meagerly filtered through the thick forest canopy, touching down around the two girls in a tactful display Mother Nature could only rightly arrange. The world moved around us and gave no care for neither their exchange nor the meaning behind it. But I wasn't. I wasn't in the know and it gnawed at me terribly.

"Hahaha, listen to you. It's like you're talking to a wall," Mergo broke out in laughter, dispelling the somber moment.

The girl joined her with a chuckle. "You know that doesn't apply to us."

"What about proving me wrong, huh? And all that talk about seeing me burn? And being in another world, huh?" It seemed the seriousness had bled out, this exchange now levelling down to playful banter.

"Oh, you will. I just won't be there to see it. Not like this at least," she replied, holding herself for a moment and shuddering at the thought. "And you know I couldn't help it! I've only ever seen other worlds in your dreams, and I almost didn't believe you..." Trailing off, she closed her eyes and listened to the breeze. The pleasant whispers of its passing put a smile on her face, prompting Mergo to follow suit. "That place was quite something, wasn't it?"

They both turned their heads back at the direction they came from, a wistful sigh escaping both of them one after the other. It was almost like hearing an echo. "It sure was... Hmm, more company would have been nice, to share the moment with. Wouldn't you say?

"Mhmm. Agatha would've liked it."

That mystery girl did it again. How did she know me exactly...unless Mergo told her about me. But why did she speak of me like she knew me?

A mild pout pursed Mergo's lips, replacing the smile on her face as she turned and crossed her arms. "Uh, you know how well that went! I told her to come, but she left us hanging! That flaker...should've asked someone else to come"

So Mergo had planned on letting me in on this? On the day I had to pick Connie up at the station? Of all times to go on an adventure, her timing's the worst!

"But you know very well why it can't be anyone else. And she did come anyway. Haven't you noticed?" A lump caught in my throat and nearly choked me.

"What?"

What?

The girl raised a finger at my general direction, causing me to stumble back into the bushes. "She's right there." How did she know I was here?! Oh, figures! If some stranger suddenly knew my name, she just had to have a sixth sense too, wouldn't she? So unfair!

"I guess we really don't have time left. Not for this at least." Mergo sighed. They continued to talk as I caught my breath from inside the bushes. "No worries. I'll get that sneaky beaky back for that before it all starts... For you."

The mystery girl chuckled before answering back.

"For us."

"For me."

The conversation fell silent from there. The more I thought about what had been said, the more confused I got. I was rightly frustrated now. How, when did they come to know each other? Where exactly did Mergo and that mystery girl go off to? What they hiding from me? Was she ever going to tell me about all this? I leaned back to peered into the glade, but they were gone. A cloud of dust blew over where they had stood, shimmering in the filtered streams of light.

"What? It's over?" I whispered with barely a voice, gritting my teeth and clenching a bunch of leaf in my hand vexingly. I missed it!

"There you are, Agatha. You're more than just a bit late you know," Mergo yelled out of nowhere, catching me by surprise as she dunked her mischievous mug right in front of me from an unexpected angle. "Fall asleep with your eyes glued to your phone again, didn't you? Though I don't think I need to tell you not to do that in a bush. You generally fall asleep in a warm bed."

The volume of her carefree guffaw just inches from me sent me to tumbling back into the bramble. But even as its prickly branches poked and prodded me all over, they were all ignored, taken as I was by her audacity. Mergo was giddy and bubbly, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Reaching a hand out to me, she was indifferent to the leaves and branches that snagged on the fancy dress she wore, attire straight out of fantasy.

"Come on, Agatha. You can't stay there all day. Well, you could, but that’s beside the point." I was awestruck, speechless for what happened, and absentmindedly I took her hand. After helping me up, she patted the leaves and dirt off me, not minding her own disheveled state. As she did so, I took note of the dress, vaguely similar to what the mystery girl wore now that it came to mind. Her toes wiggled just beneath her dress, and I couldn't help but be stunned. "Well, don't just stand there, hanging your mouth like a fish. Say something!"

"Uhhhh..."

"Can't you even manage a hello?" She shrugged and walked past me. "I know you're not a morning person, but it's already midday. Might as well wake yourself up for lunch now, you hear?"

Mergo turned around to the way back. That was my opportunity right there, walking away. It had outright dazed me to see her so indifferent to something so bizarre, even when she herself was so bizarre now. But this wasn't the time to be just standing around. After a bit of air to gather my bearings, I went on after her.

"Wait just a minute," I yelled as I turned to catch up. She was walking so fast, by the time I caught up to her, we had crossed the line of rotund trees and left the neck of that woods behind us.

"Out of the blue, you're suddenly taking a nice stroll in the forest and making plans with an absolute stranger, and you're acting like that wasn't a big deal. What's with you?!"

"Now where did I leave that thing?" She muttered to herself, flat out ignoring me. Mergo was acting as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, which frustrated me even more!

As I moved closer to get her attention, a light shone into my face, and I stopped to rub my eyes. Banishing the speckles that pestered me, my vision cleared... For a moment my confusion seemed far away. Yet glancing into the murky corridors behind us, a voice from the back of my mind screamed, and those questions that demanded answering gnawed at me once more.

"Not only that, but y-you're...you're..."

"I'm what now?" She finally bothered to give me a passing moment of her attention.

Why is it when it seemed I could finally get my question out, my voice would just seize up? "That!" I could only point down to her bare feet. She took a few moments to ponder on my words, wriggling her toes as though they were a clue.

"Oh!"

This was it, she was finally going to spill.

"I get it now. She wanted some shoes! Midlight should have said so in the first place."

... No I wasn't.

"Who's Midlight exactly? Didn't you call me that back when we were younger?"

"Didn't I introduce you to her already? Shame on you for forgetting her!" Mergo tsk'd in disappointment.

I reached for her shoulder, maybe to get her to settle down with a firm hand. But she simply walked out of my reach. "Can you just stop being so confusing for one minute and explain what just happened!?"

"Where was it again..." She said, concentrating with a hand to her chin.

Just like that, my word entered one ear and flew out the other. Still I was in the dark as much as when I first laid eyes on all that just happened, and Mergo couldn't be any more unhelpful. Holding hands tight to my head, I felt a dozen straws fraying at once.

"Ah! Now I remember, I hid it over there."

Completely ignoring me again, she went on ahead to the fallen oak by the small creek. From the other side she pulled down a cover of branches and leaves, wheeling out the thing relevant to what I had just asked her earlier. How in the world did I miss that!? "Come on, lazy bones! I can't possibly cart myself back up from here!" She called while crossing the creek.

Meeting her from around the oak tree, I saw sit herself on her wheelchair without a care in the world. She had even changed out of that dress and put on her usual get up. How did she change so fast?! This was reaching levels of ridiculousness beyond what I could handle. "Well? Get to it! Mush, mush!"

Not knowing what else I could do about her, I let out a tired sigh. I remembered she was always like this when we were younger. She'd get my curiosity roused and lead me on for hours on end, sometimes even days, but I always got her to spill eventually. I knew this dance. It was just a matter of time. "Alright, I'll play your game--"

"Yeah, that's what I want to hear!" She interrupted, pumping a fist.

"But only if answer me this first. This one question." Mergo didn't say anything, silently nodding for my to get my words out. "You can stand now. Why don't you just walk by yourself?"

Her face lit up, not against answering my question entirely. I had to take baby steps. If I asked about it too soon, she'd just keep mum and lock me out. "Oh, you mean this? Well, you'll see soon enough," she answered, wiggling her feet.

...

I know I said I would go along with it, but it was only more vexing hearing her kite this simple question... "Is that a general answer, or are you just being cryptic?" I returned, pinching fingers to the bridge of my nose.

"I don't know. I'd have to go with both...and also neither. It won't matter soon enough."

Gah! More insensible answers. To think I once felt drawn to this playful and mysterious side of hers back when we were kids. More like lackadaisical and obscure.

"Well?" Mergo called my attention. "I answered your question, now mush!"

Baby steps were for naught, and I grumbled as I took hold of the handle bars and pushed her along. The way back was short enough and a relaxing walk by one's self, but the same could not be said while I carted a supposedly invalid--the most uncooperative person I knew along an uneven path that ran on an inclne. I had almost slipped from the moss a couple of times, and Mergo couldn't help but squeal excitedly. That smile on her face... There was no mask. It was almost as if she never left...as if she never changed.

Memories and daydreams aside, with a heavy huffed, I had finally carted her up within stone's throw of the gazebo. The cottage was well within sight now, but my patience was wearing thin at this point. And if it weren't for her speaking up, I would have heaved her off the wheelchair and told her to go walk on her fully functional legs.

"You know," Mergo said suddenly and my ears perked at her words, listening closely to what she had to say. "I did ask you to come early. Eight on the dot, I said, but you didn't show. You even promised you would." If only she could stop moaning about my tardiness, and focus on what really mattered, I wouldn't still be this clueless.

"So I did. But what was that promise when you had adventure right in front of you?" I begrudgingly replied. If she was opening up now so soon, it was too good to be true. "You went on ahead, running around who knows where with a complete stranger and had the time of your life. Why would you wait for me?"

"There wasn't much time, I couldn't wait anymore." She turned a looked me in the eye. With that childlike look of hers. An innocence and sincerity without compare, as obscure as her words were.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

I could only give in, even as I looked away. "Whatever, so long as you set the record straight later."

"I will." Were those words genuine, or merely said to set me on a loop? Either way, this was was how she was before. Better than moping around in her place all day.

The last leg of our hike ended silently save for the forest ambience echoing around us and the sound of leaves crunching in our wake. If only she would tell me what was going on, I would help her through it all whatever it was no matter what.

"Here's the threshold. Looks like this is as far these bones can go," Mergo said as we neared the old gazebo. Then her tone sharply changed from gloomy to giddy once more. "Look at them scatter, Agatha!"

Seeing her perk up so quickly, transition from one emotion to another so deftly, I wondered if I was dealing with the same person. Then again she was always like this. I let a small chuckle escape me, for the faintest glimmer that things would be better from now on. But I knew well, things would only get weirder from now. Boy, Connie and Kirk were in for it. Not to mention what shady plan she and her new friend had in store for us.

A breeze picked up and came our way, picking up leaves and scattering them about in a marvelous flurry. It was dazzling to look at, and I would have looked at it longer too, were it not for the wind pushing a cloud of dust toward us. After swatting the dust away with a wave of my hand, I nearly did a double take as I noticed Mergo rolling her pants sleeves up. Her legs had disappeared and were back to their stubby normal selves. Right then another round of speechlessness took hold of me, as I realized where the dust had come from, and I coughed and hacked at the thought of aerosolized flesh entering my airways.

In my fit of disgust, I barely caught sight of Mergo past the tears welling in my eyes, rustling in her seat and going up on her stubby legs to meet me eye to eye. Hacking at her flesh dust, I didn't care enough at the moment to ask what she was doing, and in a cursory motion she laid a light tap on my forehead, eliciting a static jolt.

"Oh geez, Mergo. You just can't help getting on my...nerves...can you..." I had trailed off, finding myself in a slight daze. Hmm, what was I doing again? Why was I coughing suddenly...

"Here, Agatha. You should really wipe that off your face," Mergo suggested while offering a small towel.

"Wipe what off my face, now?"

Mergo pointed up, and I only just recalled now that we were under the old gazebo.

"Wood grains are raining down. Those termites must be having a ball up there in. Now I don't know about you, but catching their by-products in your mouth? Ugh," she clarified to my horror, causing me to take the towel and vigorously clean my face.

Mergo laughed at my expense as she wheeled back into me from the slight incline. "That's what you get for not paying attention. The house is right in front of us, and you're making us lunch for flaking out on earlier, you hear," she imposed on me without my consent.

Flaking out on what now? This girl, she just loved to make things up.

"Quickly, Agatha. the game is afoot! Mush, I say! Mush!"

Her choice of words tickled me pink, even as I still reeled from breathing in termite crap. "Afoot my ass," I managed past my hacking and coughing.

"You're such a dullard, Mergo."

Author's Note

AN[170610]

*This is an overhaul of my first story, Zodiac Brave Story. I've been steadily improving my writing while also going through at least a dozen premises, all worth at least 100k words in total. It was a heart breaking 3 years.

*Putting the Prologue in the long description was a 'testing the waters' move on my part. I don't have a good enough long description, though I could manage the tagline, which I thought was sweet enough. The rules/guidelines say I'm not supposed to do that, but I've read a lot of shit that's slipped through their nets. So I'm checking if who ever approves this will let it slide. The Prologue isn't too long after all, so yeah...

MEA MAXIMA CULPA, KYRIE ELEISON!!! :fluttershysad::scootangel:

*So yeah, like any piece of (fan)fiction out there, feedback is greatly appreciated. Seeing as how my previous stories are deserts in the comment section, I'm actually much more keen to appreciate comments. Regardless this is a story I plan to finish completely, so a dose of shout-outs, talking and good vibes would totes help me along with writing. Don't forget also to comment wrong spelling/grammar when you see it. Pointing out wording/phrases you find weird or off would be greatly appreciated as well.

AN[172108]
*Latest edit, changes to a few minor details.

Chapter 3 - Gray Morning

The greeting rang out as I heard. There I laid barely awake in bed in my quarters, the specks of dust fluttering up and about in their own drowsy waltz. They were scions to the dream I had just woken from, telling me to do my best not to forget them. The floating specks whispered softly yet with gravity, that I make the memory tangible, lest I lose them to the cloying doldrum days.

"Gray morning," another voice called from outside, in reply to the first. One by one, they stirred out from gentle coil of sleep's embrace and joined the growing chorus in calling out the good-mannered words. It almost seemed sonorous.

"Gray morning," I muttered to myself...what was so good about that anyway? In what world did gray mean anything good or happy?

The early morning thought wound me perplexed with a scrunched brow. Beffudlement gnawed incessantly on my brain for the moment, then the sobering reminder came to me as naturally as I drew breath. I was a meagre doll, another slightly less significant blip in the Aerie. Sitting up from bed, I loosed a pronounced yawn, having come a night's goodly rest. I knew I had been dog tired the moment I had flopped into bed last night, but I simply didn't want to think about the why.

First thing's first, some water. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. By my rickety nightstand, I took hold of a glass halfways full as it idly stood by a candle that had snuffed itself some time in the night. With about a third left before it was spent, I was thankful the candle did not run out. I had only two other candles for the rest off the month, and it was barely a fortnight. Better be careful. After taking a drink, I took passing observation of the water. Its slight turbidity churned in my swiveling hand, and the sight of the specks that floated in it gave me insight into a lingering sensation that rubbed in my mouth. Its coarseness caused me to stick my tongue out. Ugh, what I wouldn't give for real clean water. Still it couldn't be helped, and at least the first item in my morning routine was checked off. To abide by the day's first swig of swill. Setting the glass back on the table, my eyes fell upon the things by the candle. Sheets of slightly crumpled scrap paper, a quill rummaged from the garbage and a broken bottle's bottom that served as an inkwell. The trio stared back at me expectantly, knowing at times I would reach out to them first thing in the morning. And it was well enough I kept them there handy. I had a dream to log.

After turning to sit more comfortably in bed, I pulled the nightstand closer to me with some effort, causing it to drag its splintered legs on the rough floor. The noise used to be grating to my ears in the past, but no longer.

As I took the quill in hand, a lithe yet resilient craft cobbled from a chipped bone, passing fancies of ghostly remnants came to mind. Was the creature it came from just some lumbering beast, or a hapless soul with the wherewithal to ask for mercy? Countless bones like these were found in the Aerie every day, nondescript and untraced. I shuddered to think this bone had come from someone once alive...someone like me. The ink in the well was decidely less morbid in origin, a runny paste mashed together from mud down the street, pieces of coal, and a splash of water whenever the paste dried. That's another item off the checklist. Pondering the morbidity of my everyday possessions.

Grasping the quill firmly, I readied my words as I dipped it in the inkwell.

"A dream none too far removed. A dream nonetheless" I mouthed as I touched pen to paper, heading the title. It was a habit of mine. Not like anyone would listen to the musings of a doll.

"There were ponies in my dream this time, only they were on all fours like we used to be. I had never had a dream centered on them before. There were so many of them, running around in the woods." Those words should have brought a smile to me, as all my other dream had before. "...carrying torches."

The detail had just come to light in my mind now. It was a dream, and the memory of it began to spoil. Just as I paused with the quill still on paper, the small blotch that threatened to well reminded me to hurry on and not waste paper. "And pitch forks and nets. It all happened in a pale wooded forest beneath a towering mountain. It was the dead of the night."

I stopped to dab the quill in the well and refresh it.

"We were on our way to some town, and I think I was a traveller to some extent, though I couldn't remember if I travelled alone or with someone else... Someone or somepony? I wonder how they would have said it..." Dabbing the pen again as I pondered the tangent, I half wondered if I should scratch it off but decided to keep it. "They probably would prefer somepony, I think. And I probably did travel with some...pony else, or at at least that how it felt in the dream."

Saying it that way rolled awkwardly off my tongue, and I pondered on the strangeness of the new word before going on. Even more strange was my dismally small penmanship. No one would be able to read it!

"We were coming in from off country, a caravan of drab looking unicorns, ground pounders, pegasii and a few griffons. Of the winged ones, none of them clipped! They could fly! Everyone and everypony living in this country looked so vibrant and alive. At night, the soldiers came upon our caravan and woke us up. They called for us to help them, and as we formed into smaller parties I learned from hearsay that the capital had been attacked earlier that day."

I stopped to ponder the right words to describe aptly what I could remember. Best to keep in concise. It wasn't like anyone would get to read this. For my eyes only.

"A changeling invasion had been thwarted." I couldn't help but pause there, making another small blotch by accident before continuing. This entry was getting messy, and I was a half out of page.

"Before asking I had no clue, but right then it was clear that the soldiers had rounded us up to join in their bug hunt." A skittering buzz blew a draft into my window, nearly snatching the paper from under my pen. It made another splotch on my page, taking up more space left of my thoughts.

"Hey! I'm writing here!" I hollered with a disdainful fist.

"Well, excuse me, esteemed egghead! Some of us have actual jobs!" The reply echoed from up above, the speaker now a small black blob in the distance. There was no use in engaging him at this point, so I returned to writing.

"We had to search through miles and miles of the forest we were assigned to. It had gone on for a few days and nights, but the search proved fruitful as few had found over two dozen of them. They were drones with barely any strength to stay awake, and the ones that did, they ordered us to beat them back into unconsciousness. If that wasn't enough they even encouraged us to rip out what was left of their torn wings. It was...barbaric. I wanted no part in it any longer. So on the last night I ran away, telling them I would check on something that caught my eye. But then it happened."

The exact detail of that part escaped me, and I cursed the daybreak for coming at such a crucial moment. Steady contact of the quill caused another blotch to grow on the paper, and I quickly retracted my hand, cursing myself this time for my inattentiveness. Even less paper now, great.

"I heard someone crying nearby. I looked under a large root and saw her there. A changeling queen." I had to end it there. There was barely any space for for the entry stamp. For that I groaned under breath over the crummy start of my day. Regardless, my thoughts wandered back to the changeling queen from my dream. I had never seen one before, and I barely recognized her when I saw her. What was she doing there? Why did she order an attack on the capital? What was she after in the end? I would have asked her all those questions and more, were in not for the daybreak...or was it graybreak? I kept forgetting. Some lingo never really struck a chord with me.

Counting the spare pages left, I huffed another groan realizing this amount wouldn't last me through the week. Below them was a measly stack of five pages, from a dear friend in correspondence. The papers she had sent were pristine, it was tempting to wash off her writing and peddle them for a pretty penny. Even more temping, to use it myself. But I staved away those thoughts. Well, there was my reason to work. It was time I got ready. Taking the basin leaning on the wall and the slightly dank towel laid on it, I left to head for the commons washroom.

On my way through the derelict halls, I met the usual house help, an old drone named Kreen.

She was unlike the changelings from the dream who walked on all fours...or rather the changelings in the dream were unlike the everyday changelings I dealt with. For they stood upright. Some were average drones, ranging in sizes and heights close to mine. Scouts and infiltrators were much smaller, reaching only to my waist. A bit uncommon in number. They were blessed with larger wings though as well as strong flight muscles and a light carapace, which allowed them to fly, as was the changeling that passed by my window earlier. Now Kreen was a drone, and I saw them everyday. There isn't much to say about them though. They were normal, I guess? Then there were the changelings of a higher blood. Soldiers were a rare sight in Garriene, larger than the average drone. I seldom saw them around, the vast majority likely now into the greener pastures of Verdandeil, rendering their services. On the other hand, I had only ever seen a chevalier once before, and they all had departed for Verdandiel by now, likely under similar circumstances. Now Queens were mystery to me, yet the changeling I saw in my dream gave off a queen majesty even in her downtrodden state. Maybe if I drew out her details down later, Kreen could tell me if she was a queen. But that would mean saving enough money to buy a pencil!

"The future is turning ambitious," I whispered with a chuckled.

An ear swiveled on Kreen's head, and she turned to address me. "Well, gray morning to ya, Parny. What was that you were mumbling about?" Ever the nosy character, it had always been on honest-to-goodness curiosity.

"Ah, it's nothing. Just this really strange dream I had. Set the gears in my head turning, it did."

"Well, just make sure you don't dawdle and lose another haul, especially so soon," she reminded me with a waggle of a broom in claw. "Off to start the day? Marn just finished his shift last night, said he got ya folks an extra forty gallons today."

Good news and bad news to my ears. Scratching my head I mustered a smile for her. "Gray morning, and thanks. I'll be sure to give him a discount next time he wants something scrounged."

Morning wash had gone about as usual. Wordless and uneventful, as grimy steaming pipes and swill bath water went, which at the very least was warm. And pretty great all in all, considering the others with me in wash today. A lumbering pair of a minotaurs scrubbing dirt from their night shift at the mines off each other. A sultry pone washing her clients' filth with the exotic scents and soaps they gifted her. And mangy griffon hen who had been here longer than anyone can remember, washing today's load of laundry in her very own corner. It wasn't too crowded. No mishaps, no assaults, no brawls, and especially no nasties. It was a good wash. The sight of the hen and those nubs though. Seeing them squirm on her bare back never failed to get a gawk out of me, even in the face of the more revolting sights the Aeire had to offer. Poor griffon, her dreams as plucked as her wings.

Now back in my room I only had to slip into attire before heading off. Stinky tatters wafted stalely when I opened the drawers, and when I put them on, it caused my skin to itch. I would have liked shower every night instead if I could, even in swill, but Marn didn't solely work on the boilers of our alley. Their were dozens of others than needed his attention. Arguably his job was the most tiring of us all.

On my way down, I met Kreen again as she tended to morning meals. Today's highlight was last week's moldy bread. And not just crummy and stale ones, but ones with bits of mold growing on them and freshly gnawed at by evicted ants. Either that or the early birds got the good bread on their way out.

"Oh ya aren't eating today too? You know meals are covered in your rent," she pointed out, a million lenses in her eyes pondering my paying arrangements.

The sight of the moldy bread put my appetite off, but I wasn't about to tell her that. "It's all fine, Kreen. I'm a fat sloven pone who needs to work more anyway."

She shook her head. "Nonsense, you work just as hard as anyone else in the alley. So here's a little something from my personal garden."

Peering inside the small bag she handed over, I was surprised and humbled to receive such a fine batch of peanuts. Not one of them looked spoiled...not on the outside leastwise. "I don't know what to say." Actually I did, but I just didn't what her to know. I learned my lesson the hard way that changelings had hardier consitutions. But that didn't mean her odd gift didn't have its uses.

"Then don't!" The carapace around her mandible morphed into a wide toothy grin. Good intentions soaked in a broth of rotten eggs and spoiled milk, that what Kreen was. "Just go work yet flank off, okay?"

Rather than gawk there and look stupid for longer, I took to her suggestion, chuckling warmly at her kind gesture before returning a wave then heading out the door.

My commute through lowtown was a long and winding route, but when you learned the shortcuts like I had, you wouldn't have to suffer through the slogging crowds. Here at the port area was where the crowd turned dense and slogging. I had to be careful and keep my hands to my pockets, lest some ruffian pinch my purse off me. Arriving at the port proper, I presented my tag and acquired my raft.

Seeing the dingy thing moored on drab shores, I was so eager to set off and return to that island again. But I caught notice of its runty dim crystal underneath glowing pathetically. That meant I had to go have it change. If I didn't, I'd run the risk of it turning full rock on me, and falling into the abyssal seas. The delay only egged on my enthusiasm, and I scouted the horizon for a telltale silhouette. My spirits were laid low when I realized it was gone. Vanished among the other island that drifted aimlessly over the abyss.

"Oi, where's the new shore that popped up a fortnight ago?" One guy asked another behind me, both likely scrappers themselves. Their faces were hidden in the same tattered masks as mine.

"Well, don't look at me as if I had somethin' to do with it! Got me just as surprised as you are now, seein' I arrived at such ungodly hours." He was smoking a pipe when I turned to check my raft. "The shame of it is the port authority just released this new map on the island after surveying it."

The other scrapper threw his pick at the ground in frustration. "Damnit, I should've gone in when I had the chance. The biggest shores in forever and ripe for the pickin', gone!" He shouted, kicking up dirt in the air. If only he knew what it was really like over there, he'd learn it would be the farthest from what he expected.

"And risk roamin' its plains till you got good and lost? Don't be an idiot. You know the old adage about certain opportunities. Now why don't we go over to one of the shores on the Brink, eh? Better than sittin' our flanks here and wastin' the gray light."

The younger, smaller scrapper sighed. "I suppose you're right, pops." Both in agreement, they headed for the opposite end of the port, dragging their rafts in tow.

I was surprised. And here I was thinking they'd break out into a fight. Scrappers in a scrap if you would. Then again, I hadn't expected them to be related. In any case they were right. The Brink might have been picked dry at this point, but it was the largest island and had all sort of nooks and crannies tucking treasure away in paths less tread. Said paths were also likely more dangerous, needing forethought and cooperation, a scarce combination ever sorely needed in times such as these. Oh, well. Better to divvy up loot than die alone. I had better catch up to them and join in. Changing the crystal could wait.

I walked and approached the pair from behind. But before I could speak up, someone else had approached me from behind first, a tap on my shoulder garnering my attention.

"Fat sloven pone, I presume?" A muffled sly voice whispered smugly in my ear, followed by friendly dagger's edge not far from caressing my throat. "Sloven maybe right, you've dulled considerably. Let's see how heavy the fat weighs down on your feet, shall we?"

As a scrapper with a fair amount of confidence in my own wits, I was loath to oblige. Fingers squirmed through my clothes, in and out at a speed. It had been so long since I had been swindled myself, that I swung my body in a quick turnaround, eager to capture the perpetrator where they stood. And yet the anxiety of emptied pockets flooded my hands, causing me to cross the aforementioned actions in a haphazard mess. As such I fell to the muddy ground, dazed from the impact as I watched the thief scurry off.

"Appreciate the charities, love!" The masked thief hollered with a wave and a kiss goodbye.

The birds, rather than chirp, cursed profanities for me as they circled my head. It took me a second to gather my bearings, but the instant I got foot, a detail gnawed a familiar bite with irate clarity. This setup...I've seen it before.

"Hey you!" They had already rounded the bend before I could address them. There was no choice left to me but to give chase.

Passing the same corner, I spied a telling tailcoat whisking down another corner just enough for me to catch a glimpse. Rounding another left turn, the minute detail caught my eye again if only on its tail end of its nifty high-end leather, now that I noticed. The goose chase went along as such for quite a few turns, leading further away from the docks and transitioning into the Aerie proper. A ragged breath caught my winds as the crowds began to thick. The plaza where I now found myself was ripe with the scent of labor, booze and dirt. A perfect place to lose me. If only said braggart of a thief didn't underestimate me and literally wear their earnings! Hiding in plain sight, I've gotta hand it to them. But this only puts things in my advantage!

"Gotcha, you--"

"Thief! A thief!" My prey cried out when I pounced! It was a different voice now, sounding gravely and old. In the thick of the bustling crowd, the call was quick to gain attention, and my action came under scrutiny by all within immediate earshot. "Someone help! I'm being pinched!"

"What's this about pinching purses? In the middle of a gray day?" One minotaur constable puffed, lumbering his huge self past a mumbling crowd. "A scrapper hitting rockbottom, now that is a sorry sight, if I've ever seen one." He commented, t'sking away his indignation as he held me aloft by the scruff of my jacket.

"Get off me!" I shouted, a disconcerting tear making its way to my ears from behind my head. "You're ripping up my gambeson, you oaf!"

"Then you'd better think things through before stooping down to lowly thievery! I know scrapping's not the most fulfilling of jobs, and quite the farthest from glamorous. But decent wage is decent regardless." He may be preaching righteous words to get into the crowds good graces. But I've seen his modus before. Having gotten him to turn a blind eye several times in the past, the crooked constable's face etched a familiar impression in my memory. But it seemed the reverse wasn't mutual. Another thing in my favor. I didn't know whether or not he's turned a new leaf but he was still in my way. Time for a diversion.

"And you call yourself a constable, passing blame before due evidence is presented! The real thief is over there, you idiot!" I pointed toward the thieving actor playing the victim, but the whistle blower had already gone.

"You're not pulling the wool over my eyes--"

"Not there, over there!" I pointed again.

Still as dumb as ever, he didn't catch my second bluff. "Where!?" The crowd, riding his rhythm, tagged along in his gullibility.

A subdued rip barely rang out last my own ears as I tore into my coat. Well, there goes my hood. Slipping past the crowds, I was in the clear for now, and with a second wind to boot. Good thing I had an extra head cloth to wrap my hair in, or its pink pastel hues would have given me away. Catching a glance of the telltale nifty leather coat tail, there was no doubt to it.

"You're toying with me, aren't you?!" I yelled in a run for the thief, who leaned against a corner, yawning.

Seeing them round another corner, I entered a mad dash, resuming the goose chase. Their plan was to tire me out. Too bad for them, they were dealing with a scrappy scrapper! I had my legs beneath me, made strong and hardy, owing that to working my bones tired out on the abyss for a living! I knew I had endurance on my side. What I didn't know was the stack of crates precariously situated round the bend, ready to careen down on me as I made the turn. The top of the stack barely stuck past the corner as I entered it, and just as barely did it graze me as it toppled down. While having largely evaded it, the brick wall nearby caught me in my roll unyieldingly, returning my recklessness as a painful impact.

"Great, more bruises for the night," I gruffly complained while shaking my head and picking myself up.

"And bruises mean mistakes. Hopefully that crash lodged that lesson in your thick skull this time, eh?" The thief scolded, relaxing by the wall while playing with a lock of pink... Wait a minute.

"It's such a shame, love. You've really let yourself go. Maybe if I sped things up, the proper chord would strike in you?" Chuckling victoriously, she started off again! This was the end of it, time to wrap this up!

I gave chase only for a short while, matching her speed rather than trying to catch up to her. When the next turn came, I stopped short, foreseeing another stack of crates she sent falling in anticipation of me. This time, I shimmied up a pipe and made for the roof, wanting to cut the thief off. We had entered the warehouse complex of the Aerie now, and an idea took root. Following the sound of havoc in her wake, I tossed off shingles down to the ground to emulate my footsteps. The crates and barrels came down, a telltale trail clear from my vantage point. I only had to follow that trail, and throw her off certain turns with my shingle bluffs.

"Oh, shoot," the thief cursed, looking winded herself. There it was, a dead end catching my quarry.

Jumping down from rooftop to rooftop, and finally down on the ground with a vindictive stomp, I eyed my target, vigilant for shifty moves. "You've no place to run, love," I shot back in a scowl, noting the high warehouse walls. Even so, the thief kept calm, carrying pompous confidence in her stride. That there was a shifty move in and of itself. Being sure of one's self was the first step to fooling others.

"Okay... So you got me, love." The shrug in defeat and quaver in her voice was a complete one eight from her earlier air and tone. It was oh so enjoyable watching her squirm. "In fact if you check your person, you'll notice I didn't take your wallet in the first place. Haha, surprise! Wild goose chase!"

Seeing her shrink away as she always did, it was both endearing and grating at once. But more of the latter, considering what she just put me through. She definitely deserved this! "And you're just as sloppy as ever!" A quick slug to the face was enough to shake her down, unmasking her as she took to a knee.

"Hey, Parnella. Always good seeing a familiar face, isn't it?" Familiar face indeed. A face that, to the uninformed, inextricably matched mine. Right down to the pink pastel hues in her straightened locks in her pony tail and even the carefree skyblue in her shifty eyes. Folk none the wiser would assume we were twins. But the circumstance was more complicated than that.

Flicking her on the muzzle, she winced more so than when I had slugged her. "In your case, Piper, it could go either way."

Sleep's soft embrace cradled me in a blanket of darkness. I could just stay here and keep ignoring the waking world. Here I'd remain, safe and carefree, away from all troubles.

No, I had to get up. I needed answers.

The darkness receded at the lazy afternoon's amber glow and my eyes fluttered open. The sand in them briefly irritated my eyes as I blinked in the afternoon light. With a flick of my hoof, I whisked the sand away with...a hoof?

"Gah!" The sight of a purple hoof where my hand would have been took me for a shock.

Before panic could set in, another migraine set itself snuggly in my head, and I waited for it to pass. Arms clutching my head, and legs tucked into my belly, this headache proved brief and benign compared to previous ones thus far. I had a feeling I've been having one too many headaches in recent times.

Then and there, a rush of memories flooded my mind. A warm and hearty meal shared with friends. The surge of pain that explained my transformation. Mergo cradling me in her arms. A pair of piercing red eyes that seems to prod and pry at my soul. No cries in anguish, nor shouts of anger. I only shuddered and stared blankly into space as the memories came back to me. But that wasn't the end of my recollection, no. There were more. An unwary stop by the cottage. My innocent jaunt in the forest. And my unwitting happenstance upon the Mergo, her companion and the portal that manifested there...and flesh dust.

The memory caused me to gag.

"Oh! She's gonna get it the next time I see her! And not just a stern talking to either. Just you wait, Mergo. Just you wait!" I shouted, clenching my fist...we, hoof.

Seeing it so clear and vivid for the first time, I pulled the appendage in for closer inspection. No digits, no stubs, not even the ghost of my knuckles. Just a dull horseshoe slab of nail sticking out from the bottom of my hoof. Giving the rest of myself a once over as well, there was no denying it. I had been turned into a purple unicorn.

"Kirin glow!" I loudly uttered the old call from myths with a raised hoof, hoping to get any reaction.

"Kirin glow!" Still no response. Maybe I had to chant it?

"Kirin glow, Kirin glow, Kirin glow!" Nothing. Not even a spark. Throwing myself back in disappointment, I whined in frustration. "Man, he's supposed to be boss! Why can't I do magick like the Kirin?"

There was no point in staring at my hooves. My empty stomach grumbled and wretched for my neglect. I needed to fix that. But before I could, the first immediate hurdle presented itself. "I never thought I'd have to go through this again with conscious effort."

One steady hoof on the floor, I pulled my upper body over my legs...and fell flat on my face. "Ow."

I nudged myself on the head with a reprimanding hoof. "Idiot, you're a pony now. You have to go on all fours." The idea dropped an unfamiliar weight in my belly, having to stoop down to an animal's level.

Right arm hoof, up. Left arm hoof, up. Back legs, at the ready. It propped myself up like a table, but the unfamiliarity of the position and height threw me off, making me shake at the knees. One-up'ing their example, my elbows gave in and buckled down.

"Okay, okay. Try that again." With a little pep talk, I was on all fours again, surprised and emboldened that I wasn't so shaky this time. "Alright, one hoof forw-"

I had slipped again but caught myself right before falling over completely. "It's fine, it's fine." With more words of self encouragement, I retracted the errant hoof and settled back into a stand, one more stable than the last that filled me with good vibes. "Alright, let's try again."

My hoof went forward...and I fell again. And again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again.

The cycle went on for almost an hour. Tears welled in my eyes as I huffed frustratedly at my lack of progress. "Come on, just go already! Why won't you work!?" I yelled at my hooves.

Amber hues turned dull and drowsy as the yawning sun neared the last leg of its course. I was hungry, alone and on the brink of giving up.

"Just go already!"

Fueled by aggravation, impatience got the best of me and sent me in a push forward, courtesy of my back legs. "Hah, I'm running!" I realized. But not for long, as a wall proved all too eager in halting me to a sudden crash by the low dresser. "Ow."

Hoof finding purchase on the dresser, I pulled myself up in view of the mirror. "I was walking, wasn't I?" Looking at my reflection, I tried remembering what I saw on the mirror before I crashed, the little details and subtleties that made that run possible. Joints on automation, one hoof after the other...the ambling rhythm in my legs. It was all so complicated detail for detail, yet so very simple when put all together... "That's it, isn't it?" I whispered uncertain. No one could tell me I was right or wrong. I had to see for myself.

I pushed myself off with one back leg, wincing in anticipation of the ground. But my hooves had my back, quite literally, because I didn't fall. I was walking now, not thinking about the process and its details. Making a right by the bed, then left and finally, rearing on my back legs. I was in full control!

"Alright, that's what I'm talking about. Almost like riding a bicycle!" The crude comparison made me chuckle at its simplicity. Then the realization struck me. Or rather, it struck me again as I skidded to a halt. I was in control. This was my body. I was a unicorn now.

"No, no, no, no! I am not a unicorn, I'm a human. And when I get Mergo back, I'll have her turn me back and introduce her face to my fist. You hid something from me for so long and you're gonna get it so bad! You hear me!? BAD!!" I couldn't exactly tell if she was watching me somewhere, somehow...but she had better heard me!

"Hmph! Now then, I better eat something before it gets dark." Riding on newly found confidence and my recent remastery over my limbs, I strode into the hallway, quite full of myself. The feeling was set aside though, when I noticed the deadened silence pulled over the once cheery confines of the cottage.

There was no one here. The couch laid bare and unoccupied and the door on the second floor hung ajar. The door creaked slowly as the wind pushed it to a close, as if to drive home my solitude even more. "They must have ran from all the commotion...or when they saw me. I know I would."

From sorrow to hysteria, hysteria to frustration, then frustration to confidence, and finally back to sorrow. Within the span of a short hour, my day had been veritable roller coaster of emotions that had come full circle, and it dug a pit in stomach that overshadowed all other emotion... Suddenly I wasn't so hungry anymore.

A sudden stir from the blankets on the couch gave me a scare. I nearly tumbled back into the kitchen table. The couch wasn't bare, no...there was just something smaller in it.

"Kirk?" I called for my friend, pushing the sheets to the side. He was a pony now, just like me, minus the horn...and still sleeping. Typical.

"Come on, Kirk! Wake up! Wake up!" I tried everything to wake him up. Shaking him, clapping my hooves at his ears, slapping his face silly and red, even dragging him off the couch. Nothing worked, he was out like a light. "Why won't you wake up?"

Hold on a second...if Kirk was still here... "Then that must means-"

My hooves raced into flight from under me, drawing me up the stairs to the master bedroom. Without pause I pushed the door open, breaking the knob and causing it to bang against the wall. Between the blankets and the bed, a lissome body laid there undisturbed through the commotion of the night and hush of the day. Pulling the sheets away, Connie lay there as still as Kirk was, now a horse along with both of us. "Oh, Connie. Not you too..."

One complication after another. A telltale scent caught whiff in my now sharp nose, overshadowing my surprise of Connie's inclusion in the predicament. An overpowering smell. Robust, fuming...and rotten.

Warning bells rang out in my head.

I grabbed hold of Connie by her scruff, throwing her body across my back. Going down the stairs, she fell off and I had to resort to dragging her out of the cottage by her tail. I should have been surprised how she slept through her head banging on each step, but safety came first. Setting her by the lamp post, I remembered the storehouse close to the shed. Zipping around the cottage and past the shed sheltering Kirk's car, four hooves gave speed to my step faster than my own two legs could than ever before. In the open storehouse behind cobwebbed tanks sitting in the dust, the valve jutted up, rusting in its angled anchor on concrete wall. It took me some time, fumbling digitless wrists on the handle, but I finally managed to squeeze it between my hooves and turn it. No more gas, no more danger.

"Connie," I called to her as I came back. She still lay there on brown leaves, not a peep or twitch. As stiff as Kirk was when I found him... "Goddamn."

In another gallop I rushed back inside the cottage. There Kirk still lay at the foot of the couch on the floor, snoring and sleeping like a baby. Like I had any reason to worry about him in the first place! "Damnit... And damn you too!" I yelled, pointing a cursing hoof at his snoring form.

"Keep it down, will you? People are trying to sleep," a voice replied past a mighty yawn.

With hesitation or delay, I threw a slap on Kirk's smug sleeping face. "You idiot! The gas was leaking and you slept your lazy bum through a potential disaster!"

"I slept through what now--woah! Gah! Gaaaaahhh!" His indignation subsided in favor of abject fear and apprehension. "Gah, a talking horse! Tiny talking horse!! I must be dreaming! I must be dreaming! Someone wake me up!" He shouted, the panic that set in him sounding all too familiar. In his growing fit of hysteria, he resorted to pretending he didn't see me, hiding beneath the blankets. All the while his disheveled auburn head peeked a tuft of hair as he fumbling with his newfound form in his impromptu panic room.

"Get a hold of yourself, Kirk! It's me, Agatha!" I shoved the coffee table away to give him some much needed space to breath and move, but the only direction he wanted to move into was back against the couch. Hearing him blabber himself further into hysteria started to grate on my ears, so I gave him another dose of my hoof. "I said, get a hold of yourself!"

"The tiny talking horse hit me twice, and it ate Agatha!" The couch clattered as it hit the wall, causing Kirk to wince in pain for some reason. "Aaahh, that smarts!"

"Hold on a second, okay, Kirk!? Just calm down!" To better help him actually calming down, I breathed in and out in long intervals, motioning for him to follow with my hooves. "Calm down, okay? It's me, Agatha. Breathe in, breathe out."

Fortunately me, he took the cue and chose not to further exasperate himself, winding down his panic and now focusing on his sudden transformation and, to some extent, the pain on his back. "Ow, ow, ow, what's happened to me!?"

"Here, let me get that for-"

He stopped me with a frantic hoof, surprising me for a second that the fact he now had hooves instead of hands now didn't surprise him just yet. "Wait, wait, wait-ow, wait. I didn't say I trust you just yet." He tapped the floor rapidly as he collected his thoughts. "If you're really Agatha..."

"Oh, geez." A particular memory came to mind, one I knew he'd most likely resort to proving my identity.

"Then tell me what happened on the fourth grade, seventeenth of November!?"

"Easy. Vice Principal Gandha was arrested for brokering and organizing a underground disabled midget fight club-"

He stopped me with another hoof, but not before he stifled a chuckle in his throat. "Between us."

There was no helping it. "Hah... I asked you to meet me after class...and I confessed to you.."

"And?" He insisted I go on further.

"Oh, come on, Kirk! I said-"

"And!?"

"And I kissed you...and there was tongue... Happy?"

"And!?"

Oh my god, this was never going to end unless I outright spilled my guts for him, wasn't it? "And then Connie and some other girls caught us together, spread rumors around and eventually, Andy Przewodnik hear about it too, but not before her puritan father, our P.E. coach, also caught wind of it. He heard how you let me down, and that you had your sights set on Andy, so he put a restraining order on you, had Andy homeschooled for the rest of the term, and moved away first thing when the school year ended... Are. You. HAPPY?" I twitched in that one breath delivery as Kirk still writhed in pain.

"You really are Agatha, aren't? You sound too tough to be Agatha, though. What happened to us?" Now relatively calm and not squirming on the ground, the pain on this back subsided greatly.

"Just what are you mumbling about?"

"Exactly what I said--Owowow!! God, that smarts..."

"Quit your mumbling, you idiot. And before I answer that question, let's have a looksee at what's making you hurt so much." I nudged the couch away, opening a crack between it and the wall. Seeing him seethe, I lessened my efforts ever so slightly. Eventually a tuft of feathers stuck out, having been pinned against the wall, and obviously lead under the couch. We were both ponies now, so the hunch that popped into my mind didn't seem far-fetched. "Uh, Kirk..."

"What is it?" He replied with a hint of fear.

"If this means what I think it means," I questioningly began, showing him one of the larger feathers that had fallen off. "Then you might not be just any normal pony."

My hooves grasped the bottom of the couch quite easily, to which I was amazed that these wrists had more flexibility than I thought. "On the count of three, I'm going to lift the couch, and you're gonna hightail your lazy bum off the floor. Got it?" He nodded at my instructions.

With a firm grip on the couch, I upended it from its submission hold on Kirk, and he got up on three legs with less difficulty than I did on all fours. The blanket on him fell to the side, revealing the golden summer wings that sprung out of his back.

"You're a pegasus," I uttered disbelievingly.

"I'm a what now?" He asked, still massaging his back with one arm. Only after feeling himself up a bit more did he notice the two new feathery additions to his total limb count. "I have wings!?" The surprise weighed heavy on him, and giving his knees a shake as they buckled under him, much to my satisfaction, I admit.

"Okay, okay. This is great," I chucked, staring at the tangled mess he bound himself into.

"What do you mean, this is great? We've both been turned into horses! This is no laughing-owowowowowowow!!" His wing jerked upward when he stood on it with a hoof by accident, causing his two shoulders to dig into themselves. I almost felt sorry for him.

"First off, I was being sarcastic. Second, ponies. We're not big enough to be horses...and we aren't the only ones that got turned into ponies," I clarified, pulling him up with one arm and pushing one of his wings to a close with my head.

"So Connie and Mergo, too?" He asked, attempting to keep himself upright. Afraid as his elbows and knees rattled under him again, Kirk elected to sit back down instead.

"I'll get to that later. Right now, we need to get you comfy in this new... perspective."

Propping myself up against the wall on my back legs, I nudged the light switches on with a hoof. The place was still so tidy in spite of what happened. "Heh, you really did give her what for, didn't you, Mergo?" I whispered under breath. The thought only made me more curious of what had happened last night, but right now, there was the matter of Kirk learning to walk again which I needed to address.

With the TV and other furniture pushed away to make room, there was now more than enough space to get Kirk acquainted with his new body. It was decidedly more spacious than the guest room where I had first come to. "There. With this much room, you should have it easier than I did. But to get things going a little faster, here's a little demonstration to give a rough picture of how you're going to be walking." I walked-or rather, cantered in circle, made straight passes, going left and right, coming to a stop in front of him. All the while, I remained silent, unsure how to explain the details to him. So I added a bit more to the performance, risking a hop on and off the couch, in which I surprised myself at how deftly I had done so. It had been a little over twenty minutes of all this walking around now, and I took notice of the purple hues creeping across the sky out the window. "Okay, I think that's enough. You go get started."

That shifty gaze of his, biting on his lip and that shaky hoof. He was still too rattled. He just wasn't going to budge an inch without some more encouragement from me. "Alright, what's that matter?"

"I don't think it's enough, maybe you could explain it a bit more?" Kirk weaseled apprehensively, making it quite obvious he wanted me to hold his hand through this.

"Look, I'm not really that good at explaining stuff. I only ever do." Cross teacher and life coach out of my career prospectus.

"Then how about some pointers from when you started?"

"Alright, but the best I can do is three," I insisted, counting with my fingers. Then I remembered I didn't have fingers anymore, which made the gesture moot. Taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I chose my words and kept it concise. "Keep that demo in your head. Don't think too much about the details, just the general gist of it. And treat it like your learning how to ride a bike."

"What about these?" He shook his head towards a wing, opening them slightly.

"Do you see wings on me? They weren't part of the demo, so just keep them closed and don't mind them for now." The advice I gave him threw me back to recent realizations, which would probably help him too. "This is your body now, not some costume." Even if saying such things was wise in our given circumstance, it was strange to hear myself say those words.

"Okay, okay..." That last piece of advice seemed to sink more deeply than the ones before. He took a deep breath as he tried getting up again. "Here we go-"

Struggling right off the bat, he planted his face on the floor with a thud. I couldn't help but snigger at his blunders, mind resting easy as he started off on the same wringer I put myself through awhile ago. With his pride clearly jibbed, he shot me a disdainful scowl. "It's fine, Kirk. I went through this just like you did." I assured, waving off his negativity.

"Well, excuse me, Miss Make-it-look-easy. How'd you get the hang of it so quick?" He asked, sounding quite annoyed as his picked himself up for the umpteenth time.

"I dqon't know whether an hour is quick when it comes to learning how to walk again, but it sure beats crawling on the floor. So if you want to stop looking so pathetic, get back on your feet and hop to it." The night was fully upon us now, and the nearby street lamp where I had left Connie had just flickered to life. "I'm going to bring Connie in. Don't slack off."

"Like I have a choice," he grumbled.

Shuffling of hooves clattered behind me as I fumbled with the doorknob, though recent experience with the gas valve at the back helped with that. Outside under the cold light of the street lamp, a small snowy pony with steel grey hair laid unmoving with errant leaves having fallen and settled on her. Wrapping an arm under her, I laid Connie's limp body on my back. Now free of the threat of a possible explosion nipping at my heels, I measured each step carefully and took extra effort to keep her from falling.

"What? She's still asleep?" Kirk wondered for the both of us as I brought her in and placed her on the couch. He no longer shook standing on all fours, though still had trouble taking his first few steps.

"It could have been the gas," I tossed without much thought.

"Then shouldn't I still be asleep, since the kitchen is just a few steps away?"

"It could be this whole transformation taking a toll on her. She is pretty small for a Cyrilian, and she's smaller than me as a pony. Or maybe sitting for days on end in a train is more tiring than we thought. Speaking of tiring..." On cue my belly grumbled to remind me I hadn't eaten since dinner last night. "I should try to see if I can manage the microwave, and maybe check the stove while I'm at it. Hopefully it won't be as difficult as I think it will be in dealing with it like this."

Prying the fridge open, I nosed my way in to find most of the spaghetti and stroganoff pilfered. But with a bit of shuffling, I found some sitting at the back untouched. The problem now was getting the lids off. Bringing the leftovers to the counter, I noticed the dishes piled in the sink, spotless and dry. "What for, indeed." At this point, it seemed fumbling would become our standard means of getting by and learning our way around things. The thought irritated me like nail over chalkboard. Thin plastic covers proved a greater challenge, but they were duly overcome. I transferred the food over to plates down on the ground, careful not to make a mess as much as I could, and I threw them into the microwave. Behind me, Kirk worked up a sweat bumping against furniture as he learned to walk on four legs. Enthusiasm shown on his face as a grin and shooed away his earlier inhibitions, picking the motion much quicker than I did. Looked like my advice did him wonders, shaving a good ten minutes off my own time when I got started.

"How's it going over there?" He asked while flexing a hoof, intrigued by its strange flexibility as I had been.

Opening the cupboard by the stove, I found the offending gas pipe that came from the shed outside. It ran from a hole at the back of the cupboard space, breaking into a gash just before the outlet that fed into the stove. Pulling the window took a bit of effort, but I had wanted to check if it was tampered with on the outside too. Landing on the other side, I swept the leaves away and found the gas line intact. Jumping back up the window proved to be easy, likely thanks to my transformation. "Looks like the line was torn into, which explains the gas."

"Still doesn't explain all this," he gestured to all of himself with a cantering pose. "After all the sweat I just worked up, I can't say I'm imagining this anymore."

"Well at least you've gotten the hang of it now. I just hope it'll be just as quick with Connie when she wakes up."

Speak of the devil, and she screamed on cue.

"Oh my gosh... Oh my gosh!... OH MY GOSH!!" Connie shot up from the couch and shouted all of a sudden, sitting up like a human where otherwise her skeleton shouldn't have allowed. Then again, my wrist were as good as they had been before the transformation, so I shouldn't really question it. "Your voices!" She gasped.

It took Connie two seconds to make the longshot connection that Kirk hesitated to make. "Y-y-you're Aggie and Kirk! You're both ponies!" She kept on yelling one observation after another, slipping on her front hooves and falling off the couch.

"Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! I'm a pony too! You're both ponies! We're all ponies!"

Kirk and I couldn't tell what spectrum of emotion Connie was projecting. In a glance to each other we both agreed to assume it was fear, and we both shot Connie a wary and concerned stare. "Yes. We've been turned into ponies for awhile now. So why don't you calm down--"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!"

My ears nearly cracked at that scream and I covered them quickly, afraid I might lose my hearing at such an early age. Kirk soldiered through it somehow, and he went over to talk Connie down. "Hey, hey, it's alright. We're all in this together, so don't be scared."

"Scared? Why would I be scared? I'm stoked!"

"Come again?" I asked with Kirk echoing my confusion, uttering the same sentiment.

"Why would I be scared?" She began as if it should shouldn't have been obvious. "Don't you guys remember me going on and on about ponies and horses back in the day? And unicorns and pegasii! Sure the last two are mythical, but they're all so beautiful and majestic. One of the reasons I'm coming back to Cyril for school is because it has one of the best medical and veterinary universities in the country, duh! Or would you forget your own friend's dearest hopes and dreams?"

Though in honesty, I had briefly recalled her rambling about horses and one annoying show that had started airing back in the day, though I also remembered shutting her voice out when she'd talk about them. "Sorry, Connie. Doesn't ring a bell." I said for both Kirk and I, to which he shook his head in agreement. Our blank responses put her off quite a bit, causing her to cross her arms and pout indignantly. Just then, the microwave dinged, pinning the excitement in the air with the smell of hot food. "Look we're both sorry we forgot, but I'm sure it's reasonable to say that we have more to worry about now than our future plans and such. I'll be bringing our food over. While I'm on that, you should help Connie get on her feet, Kirk." They both nodded, Connie begrudgingly so.

Balancing plate after plate between my teeth without spilling anything laid quite an crick in my neck. Meanwhile Connie got along well with Kirk as he got her acquainted with walking in her new body. Even I was still prone to the occasional misstep, but she was pretty much fine now after a short half hour. It made me envious, though I did my best to hide it. What was left of last night's dinner was carefully laid on the floor, and we all dug in quite ravenously.

"Hey, guys," Kirk called, having finished his food first. "Look at this."

He had pinched the TV remote in between his hoof and wrist in a hook, effectively grabbing it in spite of the obvious lack of fingers. "Shame we didn't know about this. Kinda sucks eating with our mouths, right?"

Connie and I imitated his efforts without much difficulty. The revelation all made us feel quite stupid right now.

"You know what we need now? Some mindless TV to get our mind off things." Letting it fall on the floor, he gingerly pressed on it with a fat hoof, pressing the power button by chance. The TV flashed to life with a local news channel set to its screen, but the subject of the report had already caught our collective attention before Kirk could change the channel.

"-But as you can see, the crack is quite pronounced. Satellite images show it opening up as far as the Rhidorana coast, stretching all the way across the Lutia Mountain range and ending just a few hundred meters from this small house just out of the way, you see right here." The announcer was pointing on a fuzzy picture of a cottage in the middle of the forest. As he went about reporting, it was clear to the three of us where this house was in Cyril. "While experts have told us they've predicted the crevice to be a benign branch of the Funebral fault line, the immediate future will definitely prove itself a trying period for Cyril, considering the damage it has caused to the old Lhusu-Centurio line. Which is not only a means of transportation and a route for commerce, but also provides a major source by means of electricity for the region. The few local power stations that precede the region's adoption of the Lhusu-Centurio power agreement have all been recommissioned and put back to work, but have alsonotified the city and surrounding areas that day long blackouts such as the one that ended a few hours ago, will become more frequent in the months to come. Regardless, scientists are heading over to begin studies and surveys of the crevice, along with police who have been dispatched to cordon the area and evacuate residents in the surrounding suburban areas if necessary. They are on their way as we speak. "

A stifling silence descended over us as we continued watching the news. The part about scientists and police coming over laid a particularly heavy weight on us all. Unable to stomach any more bad news, I stepped on the remote and turned off the TV.

"Well, that was a pretty lousy pick-me-up. This is why I never watched news," Kirk butted in, breaking the tension with his blunt and dry sense of humor.

Beams of light glinted from the edge of my vision, coming off from the dirt road that wound around the surrounding woods. The sounds of engines faintly hummed into our ears, causing them to perk up and stand on alert. The sounds drew closer with the light, and at this point it was clear to all of us the police had come to check on the cottage.

"Kirk, help me turn off the lights!" I barked at him.

"We can't let them see us like this! They'll freak out!" Connie yelled, pointing out the obvious. "They have scientists coming with them too. If we hand ourselves over, they could dissect us for all we know!"

"Those scientists are probably geologists and seismologists coming to study the crevice, so they probably won't dissect us. The police will still probably take us into custody and save us later for folk who'll be doing the actual dissection."

"Thanks for clearing that up, Kirk! The first thing I've always wanted to happen after becoming a pony was to get dissected!" If Connie wasn't agitated from her transformation, she was definitely venting it all out now. "I don't want to end up in some secret government facility!"

"I guess we have no choice." I said, catching their attention and looking both of them straight in the eyes. With the police closing in on us and the memory of the portal past the fallen oak, we were caught between a rock and a hard place. And honestly, the hard place was starting to seem more reasonable. "We're going on a road trip."

"But what about Mergo?" Kirk asked, bringing her absence to Connie's mind as well. They both looked to me uncertain.

"She's...actually already ahead of us," I sheepishly explained.

"What?"

The cars were already rounding the bend as their headlights beamed into the house ever brightly, coming to a stop at the driveway. "There's no time, I'll explain along the way! Go gather what stuff you think is useful, and pack light!"

"How are we even supposed to pack stuff? We don't have hands anymore!" Kirk shouted as the sound of car engines died down.

"Stop complaining or they'll find us! Past a line of trees down the path back, there's a fallen oak not too far from here. We'll meet up there!"

Everything after was a rush of movement as my heart raced. Connie beelined for the second floor, while Kirk grabbed his knapsack in his mouth and jumped out the window by the stove. Muffled voices barked orders left and right as the police began securing the premises. By the time I ran back into the guest room, one of the officers was already at the porch. His hand knocked gently on the door.

"This is the CCPD. Is anyone there?" The officer asked. "We've been asked to have the premises evacuated."

He kept on spouting the same line over and over, slowly pushing me along the brink of panick with each word. I hadn't brought any bags myself, and to rummage through the closet in my state would likely make a ruckus, giving police legal foothold to force their way into the house. I couldn't let them find me like this. I had to act quick, think quick. My eyes darted all over the room till they came upon my black pullover by my bed, sitting under the light of the street lamp from outside. That's it! I slung the garment around my neck and wound it tight. I then grabbed what items I could get a hold of, slipping them into the impromptu pockets on my neck. I hadn't even checked what I took over the sound of the cops banging on the door. Though I was ready to go, however ready that meant, I stopped short of the light that shot through the windows into the main living area as the police began checking the premises. That was close. Pulling myself back into the guest room, I weighed my options. It would be too risky to make a run for the kitchen, so I opened one of the guest room windows as quietly as possible and came out the side of the cottage. Behind me, I could hear them breaking the hinges off the front door as they broke down with a crash. The figurative noose was tightening, and I wanted to run, but I wasn't sure if Connie had gotten out yet.

"Connie! Connie!" I yelled softly in a whisper, looking onward to the second floor and anxious for a response. "Come on, there's no time!"

A tap landed on my shoulder and if it weren't for Kirk's voice, I would have screamed and jumped. "Agatha, let's go." He said, coming out from the bushes with his knapsack around his neck.

"Where's Connie?" I asked as I turned and walked over to the Gazebo with him.

"Making her way to the meet up. Crazy girl jumped from the second floor all fine and dandy! Even brought her luggage with her too."

As much as I wanted to share his sentiment on our friend's reckless actions, I was glad and relieved that we were all in the clear now. And considering the police swarming around the cottage now, I couldn't fault her for doing so. With the old rickety gazebo behind us, and even further back the police conducting a careful and cursory search, we took our time navigating the moss-covered trail in the dark. The path dipped in a shallow angle just as I had remembered, but I had to guide Kirk along so he wouldn't slip. A lonely light shining some ways ahead of us caught my eye.

"What's that over there?" I asked, worried some other search party had cut us off.

"That must be Connie," Kirk clarified as he took hold my hoof. "I gave her my phone and set it to the flashlight app."

Having made some headway from the cottage and the eminent possibility of being found, my stress levels deflated enough that I could engage in idle banter. "Managing a touch screen and a dozen tiny button icons with these fat hooves? How did you get past the lock screen?"

"Well, the strong possibility of winding up on a dissection table was good motivation for starters. I did fumble with it for a moment, but after I sent her off, I was just as surprised. I guess fat hooves are more precise than I thought."

To my relief, I was thankful Kirk had managed things well under pressure. That was one pint of him I admired. "In hindsight, choosing that fallen oak as the meet up at this time of the day was pretty stupid. When I got out myself and saw how dark it was, it only occurred to me then that there was a good chance you two could have gotten lost."

"Well, let's be thankful things end up the way they did."

My grip on his hoof tightened ever so slightly. "I already am."

However, owing to the uneven terrain and darkness, it was arranged that Kirk should simply bite down on my tail and follow my lead, so as to avoid slipping on the path any further. I was glad it was dark out... so he couldn't see in front of him. The rest of the walk went on in relative silence. Making our way past the line of trees, we spotted Connie who had settled down by the roots of the fallen oak. She made the careful decisions of sitting away from the general direction we had come from and keeping the light the phone from reflecting off the stream beside her. The stream itself forged on the same, offering a small solace its relaxing babbles and a drink of water. She was visibly exhausted from jumping off a second floor window as well as hauling her luggage by her teeth. Exhausted as she was, she still looked fairly well off. Not just home and heart, Connie had Cyril well in her body.

"You know, Agatha," she started up as Kirk and I drew near. That was a sign. She always used my proper first name when addressing me seriously, kinda like how parents word out your entire full name to get your undivided attention. I had it coming anyway. "As much as I'm stoked now that my childhood dream has come true, it's obvious to both of us that you're hiding something."

Kirk let go of my tail, and it was his turn to voice concerns that he held back since this all began. "She's right. You said that Mergo went ahead of us. Odds are, however far-fetched it may sound, Mergo has something to do with our transformation."

I wanted to butt in and correct him on a few points, but it was clear that both of them had been holding their concerns back since this began. So I let them finish.

"Oh, I am so with you on that last part, Kirk," Connie added with a hint of disappointment. "She was a cool girl and all, and I was really starting to warm up to her. But she was hiding something. It was written all over her face. And not just her, you too. Don't think being in Balfon all this time has softened my intuition."

Connie had been a life-long friend to me. I always found her close by, like thunder to my lightning, positionally speaking. She had been there from the start, before Kirk and even before Mergo. I couldn't keep this from her. Kirk too…as a good friend. I was furious at Mergo for keeping me in the dark, so it was hypocritical of m to string them along without telling them either. I had to tell them, this much was a given.

"Okay, I'll tell you what I know. But I'm warning you, it isn't all that much to go on." We dimmed the brightness on Kirk's phone and aimed it to the ground to doubly make sure we wouldn't be spotted. Police searchlights swept and hovered dimly far behind us, and whenever I thought their lights caught as a glint in my eye, I was afraid they were closing in on us. But they never came. And so I spilled. I told them everything, what I remembered from yesterday in the woods. The portal Mergo came out of, that girl she was with, and making me forget about it. The pain that woke me up, finding out I had transformed without warning in the middle of the night. And that...being that came for Mergo. What she said to her, and to me. And the rush of memories that followed my groggy awakening. It was all so ominously vague.

"You're right, that isn't much to go on at all." Kirk concluded with a hoof to his chin. "Still even after saying all that, I can't imagine though, what they'd want Mergo for in the first place."

"If you ask me, it's obvious that Mergo's part of some magickal pyramid scheme!"

.....

"That thing came, gave her back her legs, and only that? She obviously has magick powers now, so it's gone and taken her back with them to make her work in their cult or whatever. Lay a left field debt so huge and unreasonable, they'll have her slaving away for the rest of her life, and then some!"

A measured silence passed over us at Connie's dubious speculation. Speculation that seemed less and less dubious the more I considered it, at certain details at least. Kirk however was having trouble buying her theory. "It still doesn't explain what that thing meant about playing a part, though. Isn't your guess a bit too specific, don't you think?"

Connie crossed her arms, annoyed her theory had been deflected by him yet turning gleeful down the line. "Well you can't fault me for coming up with my own explanation. I hate being in the dark as much as either of you, but to be frank, I'm just so giddy I've turned into a pony!"

"Speaking of being in the dark…what do we do now, Agatha?" Kirk turned a serious gaze to me, Connie following suit.

"Mergo's got a lot of explaining to do, hasn't she?"

If three days ago, someone told me I was going to turn into a magick horse, I'd have recommended them to get their heads checked. The weekend had been an ordinary prospect in mind back then. Meet up with Connie at the station. Introduce her to Mergo and have a good time with everyone. Rinse and repeat till the week was over. Then chat for hours on end over social media till school started up and busied our schedules once more. The last leg of that prospect had changed quite fortuitously for Connie and I, upon her decision to return to Cyril. But somewhere along the middle, I had lost track of Mergo. She hid things from me, because she knew it would all be too hard to believe. She suffered alone. But now disbelief was set aside. All that remained was anxious intrepidity that stood on the edge staring down an abyss of unknowns. Kirk and Connie, they had nothing to do with this, yet the look in their eyes told me otherwise. Kicking and screaming, they were just as displaced by this sudden change as I was. Dragged into this mess with neither consent nor control. They deserved answers just as much as I. And hopefully a means to return to normalcy.

I took a deep breath for what I was about to say. "Yes, she does, Connie. We're going after her."

"And then he said he was going to have me reported! The nerve of him, trying to swindle me two fold by dodging my fee AND having me arrested! Next thing I knew, his sorry mug came up on the bulletin a few days later!" Piper guffawed a hearty laugh while downing another swig off her pint.

"Poor sap didn't know safe goods from contraband, so he virtually ratted himself out!"

"Ahaha, hilarious!" It really wasn't. And I wasn’t really paying attention either.

After the stunt she pulled earlier, I couldn't shake off a lingering annoyance. I was never one for merrymaking in the tavern, usually finding it hard to keep social facades up. But where otherwise she would have, for the moment Piper didn't seem to care all that much. Maybe it was the alcohol dulling her senses. Or maybe the mere presence of listening ear contented her...or both.

"And then what happened?" I asked keeping up feigned interest.

"He was an upper crust boy, so his rich lord of a father in all likelihood posted bail. It was a given turn of events considering his entitled and condescending tone. Now were I his mother," she wagged an all-knowing finger as if in her halfway inebriated state she knew exactly what that woman would do. "Were I his mother, I would have let him sit there in that cell and fester a goodly week or two...or maybe even disown him outright!"

I only laughed then receded back into thought as she downed another swig. I hadn't even touched mine yet. Times spent with Piper were times often exasperating, something that made me put my own mental integrity to question.

After that tiring game of cat-and-mouse, she had brought me over to this nearby tavern as both a treat and an apology. Though it was clearly her purse on the table here, I was starting to think more and more that this wasn't really an apology for that fiasco anymore, and was just an excuse for her to imbibe all along. The booth we had acquired was a small and private cubby spacious enough for the both of us. Darkened save for the few candles providing light and what amount of the gray day tumbled in from a small window above, and fenced off by thin rickety dividers, requiring a turn on beer-sodden floor to enter. So for the first time in years, I had removed my mask outside the alley, with Piper having done the same. This privacy was for that precise intent and not some shield to chortle and make a ruckus behind. I just hoped that no one was really listening in on us.

"Aw, don't look so glum. I said I was sorry," she prodded, finally noticing my true disposition. "Oh, I know what'll cheer you up!" If only she had known that about coming here in the first place.

I knew where this was going. Even back then some of the others still had found it difficult to break away from old habits, habits that were never really ours to begin with. "Please, Piper. No more knock-knock jokes."

"Here it is!" She announced after reaching into her backpack, slamming a parcel on the table and giving everything on it a shake. So I didn't know. Burn me at the stake.

"You oaf, they make you pay for damages in this booth--"

Piper cut me off, pushing the parcel towards me. "Aw, aren't you even one bit curious as to what's inside?" This wasn't the first time curiosity overshadowed my anger. It was a commonplace turn of events whenever she was around. She knew how to push those buttons. "Go ahead, have a gander!"

That look in her eye dabbed a twinge of regret in me for following her lead, but the moment the lid came off letting me peer into its contents, that budding regret wilted as genuine surprise sprung forth in its stead. "A horn?"

"Yes, yes, love. One lovely unicorn horn as promised! Don't be so coy, lean in and look closer!" Piper proclaimed with arms crossed and her head held high.

It took me awhile to shake off my disbelief and grasp the reality of it. The spiraling relief ending at the tip. The glossed texture of its surface. Its regal purple hue. The details of the horn locked vividly under my scrutiny. Just like my pen and ink, thoughts invaded my mind as to its origin, but I gave it a nudge to dispel them. The objective implications of having a horn being far more important. It was here alright, bright and lively, as if cut from the unicorn itself not too long ago…but I wasn't too sure just yet. "I don't want it."

Piper threw her arms up in protest, nearly tossing her pint up with it from my blunt comment. "Oh, come on, you're seriously not doubting a genuine unicorn horn right in front of your eyes!"

"That's not for certain though. I know I live in a dump, but rumors of fakes have reached even here. Most of all this wasn't the one I was promised though," I said in recollection of that drab and gnarled thing that more resemble a dying branch from a stunted tree rather than a horn. "Sure, that one had seen better days, but it was one he was willing to part with. And seeing this piece here makes me wonder if that artificer had something up his sleeve..."

Locks of pony hair were invaluable as an ingredient for all sorts of spells and potions. In general parts that could be harvested and grow back, such as hair, feathers and nail clippings too. Ponies were a race favored by magick. Though quality still wasn't guaranteed and largely depended on whether the pony it came from had magick potential to begin with. That was no problem for me, considering my existence as a doll. But horns were a different matter entirely. Garriene and Verdandiel have been hungry for magick well over a millennia now, and that hunger slowly drove the unicorns away out of fear. Demand had only risen since Garriene's decline and the sudden influx of faux horns in recent times only exacerbated the voracious appetite. I wanted away from that scene, that shady market. Which was why I wanted that beat up horn in the first place. A horn that had clearly been floating in market far longer than I lived and breathed. A useless antique by many standards, yet something that pathetic surely had no strings attached. And in spite of its unattractiveness, it would make good as a stepping stone towards better jobs for me. And more importantly a matter of grave safety. Since he would've been getting the better bargain in this deal, it would have been assured he'd have kept his mouth shut about me and listed me as a supplier. More income, more's the happy. But with this fancy looking one, I wasn't sure at all. Was it one of the faux horns floating in the market? Like the elder had told the younger scrapper back at the docks before Piper lassoed me into her rhythm, some opportunities were too good to be true.

"Can I request an exchange? Tell him that I want what was originally promised."

"Can you be anymore unreasonable? I'm just the courier! I've no say in what I do at the sender's behest!" Piper sighed, pursing lips and pinching the bridge of her nose. She had a point though. It was unreasonable of me to have her risk face in the Upper Yard unnecessarily. "Look at it this way. You get to test it first and see if it's the genuine article. If not, all you've lost are a few locks and that you'd have to lay low for a week or two...maybe a month." Another good point. It had taken nearly a fortnight for the package to get to me after sending my hair in that sealed bag, but if the artificer chose to send this instead, I wasn't in a position to make deals. Verdandiel merchants ever rarely interact with lowfolk from the Aerie, or a gutter schmoe like me for that matter. But the latter part of her statement was had been the forefront of my worries, the moment I had sized up this horn.

"Which means that I have to skip work and lose all my potential picks!" It was my turn to get upset, hang my head low and scrunch my brow. “The foreman would have me fired!”

She didn't say anything back at first, only rolling her eyes in a knowing way as if this outcome were obvious from the outset. A grating gesture on her part. "Oh, don't give me that look! Of all the people I know, the last person I expect that from is you. You've fallen for far worse and look where it's gotten us! You know that better than anyone!"

The words struck deep. She cringed back in disgust for a spell, a sullen expression coming and going like a hand through a flickering candle.

"Doesn't make me wrong though...the possibility you've drawn the shorter straw," Piper returned in deadpan, waving a hand toward the horn lying in the box.

"I'm sorry... It's just..." It was my turn to rock the table with an angry fist. "But it was a simple plan...how could it fail?"

Piper reached across the table, laying a consoling touch on my shoulder. "Pones have the worst luck in all of Garriene. Even worse off are us dolls. So even the most well thought out plans can blow up in your face. After all, I know that better than anyone."

I hated how she knew how to talk around me. But when she was right, she was right. "I suppose," I answered, head held low for my uncalled lash of words.

She stood up and cricked her neck, arms and whatever bones she could crick. A habit of hers that sorta creeped me out. The worrywart face I cast over her disappear with a self-slap, replaced by an eager grin. "So, what's say we have you give it a burl?"

"And where do you suppose we do that?"

"The colosseum grounds, where else?" I had figured as much. Though as much I had kept my distance from that place, I couldn’t deny her a visit there. And in all honesty a part of me had become curious. We made our way out of the cubby booth, and true to her word she footed the bill. I had almost thought she would hightail it and leave me there, sandwiched between the tavern's menacing bouncers, a hefty minotaur and a burly griffon. But she didn't, much to my relief. Having finished paid the bill, she told me to wait outside which was odd. I waited nonetheless and she eventually came. Probably wasting her time bargaining an unreasonable discount.

It was mid afternoon right about now. Though with the eternally gray sky up above, it was hard to tell. In all honesty, I would rather have stayed in the Aerie and soldiered through my day job than slog through the cloying landfill of a path we had set out to trek through. But were I to somehow blink back into the middle of work at this hour, the foreman would not only dock my wages but surely have me penalize for not making my quota for good measure. Something he would likely do anyway the second I show my face tomorrow. As ganked as he was with the reek of alcohol and the vice of rigged die, he was polarizingly no-nonsense and strict at work. And at such a mood he found himself especially so the day I returned from the island that popped out of nowhere on the abyss. The island whose uncharted ruins draped in that beautiful maple afternoon sun I wandered nearly lost a fortnight ago...that day I had met them.

No matter now, it was too late to turn and punch back into the clock. Might as well take leave for the day and see this through to whatever outcome. The colosseum was a long way past the slums I called home, easily four times the distance of my commute to the docks. So rather than bother ourselves and head off at a quicker pace, we decided to take a more sedate stride to our going.

It was an old moldy road as destitute as I had remembered, one of the main arteries of the city, now covered by layers and mounds of filth flanking us on either side. Since the decline, people had become virtually superstitious of these parts through which our road cut across. So much so that even cutthroats and vagabonds dared not come and make havens of its empty streets. However, what people did use it for was as a long and winding dump. Hearsay and superstition granted their legs haste whenever they came to discard their rubbish, and when they finished, as quick as shadows they would leave. Partly for the unbearable smell that had settled in the few years this dump had grown, but mostly out of fear. The smell was manageable through our masks, but no fear struck me nor shivered up my spine as we walked further down into the heart of the Aerie, only morose ponderings. For I had no fond memories coming down this road...a march that began a long ways out of the city, a cruel, tiresome one lead in indifferent chains and egged by a unfeeling whip.

Making past the telltale half way point marked by a large once extravagant welcome sign that fell to the wayside, one that no longer saw visitors, the trash began to peter down from high mounds into small piles. Eventually it receded completely giving way to empty streets once more. Cleaner and easier on the nose, but it didn't make the walk any less destitute. The rest of the way was a silent walk through abandoned thruways of a once bustling section of the city. Fifteen thousand people used to live here. If they only they could see it now, the ghost town it had become. Oh, they would cry rivers for it. Cry for the city their kin happily lived and busied themselves in. The ivory streets they once ran through and laughed in, returned to their once decayed state yet ever more moldy and haphazard than that. Cry for the derelict shops that turned golden and filled with light at the wave of a wand. The wares and coin piled in avaricious hoards, wasting away behind broken windows that shielded them from the elements no longer. Cry for the amphitheatres that sprung out tall and majestic from empty lots overnight. Its halls, where once regaled epic of grandeur and comedy echoed on for days on end without pause, now sat empty and mute. Cry for the colosseum whose expansive design and scale bloated with their pride. Its structure having crumbled into a horseshoe and left to hang as an open wound with a barren scab of a sinkhole in the middle of its field, accented by a pervasive scent of iron and rot that lingered faintly to this day. Cry none for the unwitting dolls they had fooled into their demise. Not even a dewdrop in the corner of the eye for their unwilling sacrifices, those who had so elevated their lives and brought about the city’s mayfly golden age.

Melancholy thoughts once locked tight and stowed away by the passing of doldrum days crept out distastefully as each sight sidled into view on our way to the colosseum. I did my best to suppress them. I was past all of that now… I was, truly.

“Hey there, everyone!” Piper greeted out of nowhere.

We approached a high mound of rubble by the base of one of the large broken columns halfway past the field, opposite the large sinkhole on the farther end. Her words surprised me. I almost thought that some people had settled down here, but none came forth as a silence greeted us with a drawn out reply instead.

“Look who I’ve brought with me!”

To my subdued surprise, hidden behind the mound, which was actually a thick facade wall, was a makeshift shelter coming into view as I rounded the column. “So this is where you’ve been living, alone in the middle of squalor and ruin?” I asked in a pitied demeanor, glancing over the place and taking it in.

It was a nubby-looking hole size-fitted for the largest minotaur in my memory to walk in snuggly. But to petite-sized folk like Piper and I, the spaciousness was luxurious. It had been carved out of the huge column that held the roof of the colosseum. Planks of wood had been cobbled to form the shelter's own smaller roof, hastily stuck to each other by way of rusty nail. Propped up by three bundled beams of creaking wood, it covered the small yard afforded by the enclosure and two evergreen herb bushes sitting by the base of the facade which hid the shelter from plain sight. In the company of stained cooking ware, a doused fire pit greeted us next shortly after the entrance with an ashen cough, while a simple clothesline fit to be anywhere else stood meekly by the herb bushes, swaying gently in an addled breeze. The shelter itself was an open room, furnished with a ragged cot fit for the petite. As such that left room for other things to occupy. The likes of which included a small worn shelf and dresser set by the cotside, set with endearing-looking trinkets on top, and a notched bowl holding a bundle of incense sitting atop a rugged-looking strong box kept shut by a rusted lock that miraculously held together. Its strong aroma hung in the air as bits of ash fell to a lazy sputter on the ground, masking the faint yet sluggish smell of wax that snuck in from I don’t know where. The place was a spotlight of respite in the vast and desolate necrohol that had become the center of Garriene. Yet a sorry sight, nonetheless. I knew she had been coming here for years, but I didn't know she actually lived here.

“I thought you had gone to join the courier’s guild based at Ronsenburg… What exactly have you been doing all this time?”

“Well to the first question, that stint quickly fell apart along with the guild shortly after I arrived. One particularly nasty raid was all it took to do it in. The guild masters had been implicated of treason and possession of sensitive contraband,” she answered, making light of a distressing revelation with a chuckle.

She opened a barrel by the fire pit and had herself a refreshing splash of water. But as mundane as this all was to her, I was both concerned and reluctant to learn how things had come to be as so.

“And I'm still a courier by the by. Well, most of the time. I just work with someone else now.”

One step forward and three steps back. Normally Piper could try to run circles to confuse me, and I would just shrug it off, not caring. But three years of who knows what, I shuddered to think what she would go on to reveal. “Someone else? What contraband? You didn't mention these in your letters!" We had kept in touch with the grand total coming to one hundred thirty seven letters against five in my favor.

Piper tsk’ed as she picked up a few garments that had fallen off the line and tossed them on the bed after patting them of dirt and leaves. “You really weren’t listening were you?” She turned a disdainful look at me. “Ah, no matter. Now why don’t you say hello to everyone else? They’ve been wondering why you’ve been ignoring them and keeping mum.”

“What do you mean, everyone else? This is no man’s land! We’re the only two here!”

“It’s really disrespectful.” She crossed her arms, shaking her head in disapproval.

“Gah! I’ll go see for myself then!” I turned and turned, looking for the things I didn't catch. I even ran over the entire field to verify her claim. The sinkhole was a caved-in chamber forever fluttering with dust from the debris. The other columns were vacant apart from the rubble that collected at their bases, lacking anything that resembled furnishings or that which hinted to a lived-in presence. A quick duck into the interior hallways that lead to the field revealed they were as ghostly as when we had walked through them not ten minutes ago. There really was no one there. Her sudden strangeness took me for a loop of paranoia, and I had winded myself own in the process. “That’s…that!...We’re…completely…alone!” I managed between breaths with finger pointing to distant evidence.

She snortled at my obliviousness. “You really didn’t have to do that. You could have just asked me, you realize…” Piper caught hold of my arm as I was halfway from collapsing to the ground. She made efforts to keep the corners of her mouth from curving up. The subtle act made apparent the pleasure she took from seeing me run around like a headless chicken.

“Buck…me,” was all I could manage.

Stepping beside me to steady my stance, she took my head in her hands and pointed my gaze to the stones of the facade wall. Just as she did so, an odd tumbling of pebbles sounded off behind us. However, her sudden jerking of my head far overshadowed my curiosity of that sound with annoyance, one even more so amplified by my exhausted state. So rathe that turn to say my curiosity, I humored her instead. “You think these stones stacked themselves by this column so meticulously, love? Go have a closer look at the ‘wall.’”

Was it something I had missed, like a riddle or a punchline? I never did take well to either those or jokes anymore.

Taking in the ‘wall’ with a little more scrutiny in my gaze, I had finally realized the blended details that sat in plain sight. I had only been paying attention to her domicile and the furnishings, not noticing anything else till she pointed them out. Blocks of stone cut in roughly similar in size stacked upon each other like the bleachers of the colosseum. Doused candles made from dirty wax adorned each one of them, their gray color blending into the rock. From them their sluggish scents wafted, no longer feeling as formless shackles and weights, but as warm and cold undertones to a picture that emerged from the haze of my mind. It was a scene set by a scruffy band of unlikely hoodlums gathered around a small roaring bonfire. The flame roared and danced as they ate and talked, and when they slept, the fire smoldered as cinders from the brittle wood it consumed, fading quiet in the cold night. Running my hand over their surfaces, I could make out names scrawled onto the slabs at the bases.

“Petra, Paz, Penelope, Pilliane, Pearl, Petula,” I read out loud, the names sounding affectionately from the crude etches and off my lips.

“Pyria, Parda, Pleajune, Priscilla, Palomina, Paige.” Tears welled in my eyes to roll down my cheeks, bidden by memories long forgotten and buried. Dear memories close to heart. My friends…my family. They were all here.

Piper drew near and placed a hand on my shoulder. “After all this time…this is how they end up?” She didn’t reply at first, silently recounting the names herself in her own bout of nostalgia.

“Such was a bother sifting through tons of rubble all by myself. Ah, well. Them’s the breaks!” She turned to look at me, as if an invisible weight had been lifted…and a new heavier one had taken perch on her shoulders. She was hiding something. “You have no idea how long it took to find them all. The scars and broken fingers under these gloves, all worth it,” she recalled fondly, letting out a sigh. With a kick to its door, she opened a nearby closet to reveal the worn out shovels, pickaxes and other digging implements that lay within, all covered in dirt. The ones in front maintained a so-so condition, while those at the back, clearly of cheaper make, had their metals warped and mauled by relentless work on the hard stone of the magicked arena.

That explained why she had been coming here so often. Then I turned back to one more grave, the last of the slabs at the base, and saw another name. One more doll whose name I held just as dearly as theirs. "Piper!? What's the meaning of this?" I yelled in askance after reading the name aloud.

She didn't say anything first, an unfocused gaze looking for something latch onto. Piper shook her head. "As I've said, you've no idea...what troubles plagued my waking mind as I dug everyday...what nightmares haunted my dreams...the dark thoughts that whispered..."

The words she spoke sent shivers down my spine, and I covered my mouth with a hand.

"I had nearly given up...and then..." She trailed off.

"And then what?"

She look at me with the most sincere smile I had even seen. An unmistakable smile I would have seen on anyone of us...on myself. I was taken aback. But that shouldn't have surprised me, as we all shared the same face.

"Some kind passerby gave me words of encouragement. They told me to think of the loved ones I had put to rest...the ones who were still with me. They gave me hope...and peace."

The thought alone, of her carrying such a yoke by herself. I found no words...but then, these untouched graves that bore no names, “Who are these others, the stones stacked above them?”

“Ah, them.” Piper ran a hand across their unadorned surfaces with a hand, her brow scrunching together and a wistful curl pointing the corner of her lips down ever so slightly.

“They’re the others, basically. Dolls like us.”

“If they’re dolls like us, then—“

“Then, it took more than just a measly dozen dolls to rouse all of this from nothing!” Her arms raised and spread wide open, the exact meaning of 'all of this' being apparent to me. One revelation after another, yet not a single one of them happy. And by the tone and expression Piper struck, she wasn’t done just yet. “You think only twelve of us crawled out of that blasted pool? There were hundreds of us! And we didn’t even know they were here before us! That they were—!”

She held words back with her hands, unable to speak any further on what she found. The weight of this particular revelation struck like a boulder, though I reasoned that such implications weighed more heavily for Piper, who had suffered it all alone. On my own shaky feet, I approached her, taking her into my arms and comforting her as best I could. “I’m sorry, Piper. I should have come with you. I shouldn’t have let you shoulder this burden alone.” We stood there for a while not saying anything. In our silence, more memories crept out from the back of my mind. A desperate escape led by a kind and courageous hero. A fevered quarrel amidst the wrecked outskirts of the heart of the city. And an angered parting whose finite words drove us apart. Dust and time settled over all of those things. Even… even I eventually came to grips with the decision made and the outcomes that came of them. But it was clear that Piper herself wasn’t.

“I seem to have doured the moment. We came here to test something of yours out in the first place,” she perked up to say, ending the embrace. Now we were talking! Whether or not my sly deal on the side was a bust, we were going to find out. “Some simple ballistics will do. You remember how to do those, don’t you? I’ve prepped you some practice dummies beforehand.”

“Of course, I remember. I pinched those scrolls off that mage myself. Didn’t sleep a wink till I got one sigil right!” I pumped a fist, feeling stoked. “So where are they? The practice dummies?”

“Well, one’s right behind you, love.”

At her words, another voice butted in, its gruffer tone joining the conversation and sending a chill down my spine. “Practice dummies… Ehehehe, right.”

Turning around, a bangaa had appeared out of nowhere, having somehow perched himself on the wall of gravestones behind me without a sound. And not just any bangaa, it was Tanzan, one of Sandata’s cronies! A lanky example of his kind, he was tall in many proportions and certainly taller than the average bangaa.

“The lot of us, we’ve deliberated for the longest time and we’ve decided. You’re it.” As she spoke, the sound of pebbles shifting underfoot caught my attention.

“I’m sorry, Parnella. But this is for your own good.”

Tanzan tensed feet in preparation, and at the drop of a pin, he sprung into a pounce straight for me. And he would have caught me too, were it not for Piper and her theatrics. All it took to dodge him was a simple duck of my head. He had also overshot his jump, flying right over me as I took to a knee. The bangaa crashed into the cot, but began picking himself up quickly as if the impact was nothing. Without pause or second guess, I got up and made a beeline for the exit.

Piper yelled at the bangaa behind me as I passed the sinkhole. “You idiot! How could you waste your chance!?”

“Shut yer trap, you doll! We’d have had her, were it not for you sentimental spiel. But that won’t change a thing,” Tanzan replied confidently. At that middle statement we both were at an agreement, and I still had a chance to run. However the banga himself had entered a run of his own after saying his piece, quickly closing the distance on nimble yet supple legs. For someone of my stature, I placed a great deal of confidence in my running, but try as I might, in a chase of speed and endurance, he bested me in spades, or any bangaa of his build for that matter. It didn’t matter though. The gates leading into the colosseum was just a stone’s throw away, and while he was decidedly faster than me, its interior was a wreckage, riddled with all sorts of nooks and crannies to lose him in. If I could just reach it.

Just as I ran the last leg of this sprint, I skidded to a halt, spotting another figure who showed himself past the corridor. A looming and bulking outline belonging to none other than Sahmad, another bangaa but a head shorter than Tanzan. Hauling a rope net with weights dragging behind him, he tossed it over me. Too high in fact, or was it because he had overcompensated for the weights? Either way, his efforts sent the net soaring over me and ensnaring Taznan who had entered a course to pounce on me again from behind. Needless to say, I was able to roll out of that impending mess just in the nick of time. Another chance at escape handed to me by their own overestimations. With Tanzan caught in the weighted net behind me, the only thing standing between me and the exit was Sahmad. The brute was too big for me to handle and would decisively win confrontations with anything not approaching his size. Fortunately for me, he wasn’t as agile as his partner and his hulking arms proved sluggish enough for me to evade as he swung them around with the intent of catching me. In an opportune moment, the bigger bangaa lost his balance, and that was my chance to make it inside of the colosseum.

“Idiots, both of you!” Piper shouted as she caught up from behind Tanzan, still struggling in the net. “Quit your dawdling and just catch her already!”

“Don’t you worry your pretty head off, doll. Like Tanzan said, this one is as good as caught,” Sahmad declared triumphantly.

I went on running without a care, not thinking what sort of plan they had in store. If I could put enough distance between me and them, then there were all sorts of hiding spots I could scurry off into. With this colosseum being as huge as it was, I could wait them out and sneak away in due time. But running far enough down the hallway, the reason why the two bangaa both held great confidence in catching me so easily made itself apparent. They had walled off the hallway completely with a wooden blockade hastily nailed together. Forget the windows leading back to the arena, they were barred shut by metal, the gray light passing through it casting a dismal outlook on my hopes of escaping. My back was against the wall as they drew near.

“You won’t get away this time, doll!” Tanzan spouted, visibly upset about the recent blunder from which he picked himself up.

“Give up. There’s no escape this time,” Piper said as she approached with them, leading the two bangaa in cornering me.

I didn’t want to give her dignity of a reply. I was just too mad at the moment to talk to her. I only wanted to get away. But like she had said, there was no escape. Unless…the horn. I still had the horn! Pulling it out from my pocket, I pointed it at them, causing the two bangaa to reel back as I did.

“She has a horn!? Where did she get that from!?” Tanzan cried out, taking a step back for once in this encounter.

Sahmad looked equally as panicked, shielding himself with his hands as I pointed the horn at him. “You didn’t tell us about her having one! The boss will have your head if she escapes!”

Piper on the other hand looked as calm as ever, a neutral expression on her face with arms crossed. It was almost as if she was daring me... No matter, they wouldn’t catch me. I wouldn't let them!

In days long past when the others went to sleep, I spent many a night instilling the shape and mark of sigil in memory. The task was arduous beyond compared to neophytes without talent, yet I proudly wore the badge in mind for memorizing a handful of symbols from the scroll when it was yet in my possession. But I had only just gotten the horn from Piper recently. Using a horn was a whole different matter, and I would need lessons from a local mage to properly utilize it. I had garnered what I could from that scroll, but manipulating magic without the proper experience was whole ‘nother bag of spoiled beans, a reckless and foolhardy endeavor likely leading to injury in the best of cases, and at worst… I still had to try if I wanted to stand a chance.

The horn was warm to my touch, fitting snuggly in my grip. I could feel the magick deep within. If I could just tap into it—

At the mere thought, a power surged out from the horn and fed into me. Filling my body and pouring out from my fingertips, I was ready loose a torrent at them. The mere sight of me was enough to contort the faces of the two bangaa in fear. And I would have grinned ear to ear for how quickly the tables were turning too, were it not for Piper still maintaining a stoic face belied by the worry on her brow. When she was right, she was right. It was the reason I still had the horn. She had known it would come to this. Rather than give me the power I needed to overcome my pursuers, the power that surged from the horn gave me the shock of my life. My senses fizzled and blurred as the pure aura from within the horn radiated as blinding light and seared as an ethereal fire. When it ended, breath left my lungs entirely, my legs gave under me like pudding, and my vision swam in a black tunnel.

Piper approached me in her sweet time with the two bangaa in tow, surely taking in the smoke that rose from the smiting I gave myself. The two bangaa stood behind her as drew near me, guffawing at my sheer stupidity. “I didn’t want it to come to this. But there was no other way, Parnella,” Piper consoled with gentle hand caressing my charred cheek.

What as sick joke. I had lost the bargain of a lifetime, gotten lured a place with no chance of help, and been betrayed by family, all in one day. What's more was fat chances of me dragging my well-done remains back to the Aerie and salvaging what was left of my sorry career as a scrapper.

Gray morning… A fine gray morning, indeed.

Author's Note

AN[170709]

*So yeah... this chapter took way longer than expected and turned out 7k longer than it should have been. The last segment of an earlier version was a lot more direct, but something about it felt meh. Also I had an epiphany and created Piper's character out of inspiration. The next chapter might take a bit longer too, so sorry in advance.

*The gimmick with the last words matching the chapter name seems to be getting stale IMO. I might drop it sometime in the next chapters if I can't keep it up, unless you guys think it's fine.

*As usual this in not the final edit, I'll be going over it for any hiccups in the next few days.

*Mugshot of Parnella.

AN[170802]

*Made some changes, adding in new snippets of detail/dialogue after having a realization. It will ripple into future chapters.

AN[170826]

*Changed the time between Parnella meeting Midlight and Mergo in chapter 1, from 3 days to 2 weeks.

Chapter 4 - Distractions

One could only juggle so much of them at a time, before getting lost in the clutter. The others didn't condone distractions. So clear cut and no nonsense. I on the other hand loved a good distraction once in awhile. Maybe I loved to have them too much. It had--in more than one occasion, reached a point I needed help getting things done. Needless to say I wasn't like them, not an inch of me curious... No, that's not right. I was just as curious, just not curious about the same things. An inquisitive mind drawn to the things around her, not one egged on by an insatiable urge to know or an unfathomable need to be right. I was as every bit as curious as they were, but I was content to let things be and not tug at them to an end that satisfied me. Sometimes it was okay to wonder. Sometimes it was good, even better, to not know. And for that I was sure they would rail at me if they had heard those words come out of my mouth. But it couldn't be helped that theirs was a steadfast and impatient pursuit for knowledge, while I simply was of the mind that all things would be revealed in due time. In that I was certain. Beyond the shadow of a doubt.

However what was well within both a literal shadow and the figurative one now was myself and the fact that I had...misplaced my bearings.

Looking around, nothing was familiar and no one was in sight. I was loath to admit I had let habits get the better of me...again. I had strayed too far ahead of the others. Good and lost, and rightly so. Anxiety began looping into an aggravated cycle as the realization sunk in, but I staved it off with a steady hand on my chest and a long calm breath. The sensation felt strange…but this wasn't the time for that and neither was it time to panic. All I needed to survive was the knowledge in the field guide. I had grabbed it in a scuffle, not really knowing what I had brought with me.

In the shadow of a small oak that stretched over a tiny trickle of a brook, I struggled to make due of the scarce light that shone past the leaves. The oak, still a sapling itself, was shadowed by the canopy of the ever-stoic elder wood I found myself in, one that seemed vast, sprawling and filled with surprises to a babe lost in its borders... A babe such as myself. The waning afternoon held no regard for my need of illumination, steadily going about in its course and eventual cedence to the coming night. And as it paid no heed to my needs, I returned the sentiment and continued reading a section of berry bushes commonly found in the area. The others would surely grill me for this as well if they saw me reading in such inadequate light. Berate me about treating my eyesight so badly at such a tender age and spook me with a bag over my head when I napped.

I went on reading, the guide enumerating a list of fruit-bearing bushes with each page. Now past the first section and vaguely wary of the flora it specified to avoid, my mouth began to water as I glossed over the words and laid eyes over the familiar reds and blues of berries I once saw as commonplace.

Moving on, I nodded in fair understanding of each paragraph, low hums resonating in my throat as I did my best to instill the information. But they would have known, that these were telltale signs of me struggling. That I was a hair's breadth from giving in to my penchant for distractions. Were they here, they would definitely have given me a good slap on the noggin to make sure I focused. They weren't here though. No one was. In their stead, the flickering sunset light was kind enough to stay with me, even for only a bit longer, even as dusk settled in the horizon and had let the night creep in. It was a good thing too. For the pervading cold and dark hues that shadowed the night were already settling in, so the warmth the light provided was very much appreciated.

...

...

Hmm… That was odd. Everything else was already dark and cold, but it was still bright and warm behind me...

"Trespasser," an old voice crowed, like pebbles scrapping between ground and foot.

It sounded off from where I shuddered to turn. The warmth felt comforting no more, now seeming as a radiating hostility tangible to sight and palpable to my nerves. When I finally turned my head, there I saw him standing, dressed in a well-worn tunic and trouser affair, its fabric accented by mending patches here and there. His wrinkled face and balding hairline, vividly visible by the torch he held up, made apparent his immense displeasure, reasons for which I was both figuratively and literally ever still in the dark.

Words caught in my throat, yet I did my best to manage even a small utterance. "Umm...hello?" I whispered meekly in a fittingly meek turn. I had to say something, lest he presume over wrong grounds.

"Trespasser!" He shouted with an angry scowl and an accusatory finger pointed at me.

Too late.

He continued to shout and point that accusatory finger at me, coming off as more threatening and unfriendly with each repetition, and punctuating it with a stomp forward on the end. This sudden flex from him took me by surprise, and in seeing me retreat, he found footing to continue and took steps forward with angry stomps. I had doubled over from his actions, now I only wanted to get away.

Scraping at muddy earth and a web of roots, I entered a run like never before. A run for my life in an unfamiliar place. A cold shriek rose from my belly and my lips pursed in fear.

A cry for help escaped me. "MERGO!"

"Agatha! Wake up, Agatha!" Connie's incessant jostling roused me from fitful dreaming, leading me to sit up with an arid heave.

Having just risen from sleep, and quite groggily so if I may add, I had forgotten where we had chosen to make bed for the night, and thus hit my newly bestowed horn on the hollow yet still healthy confines of the fallen oak. One would think that a horn, being made of keratin, would not chip as effortlessly as a nail would, nor feel a twinge for its lack of nerves. I was mistaken on both accounts. A conclusion sorely backed by the flare of pain around my forehead followed by a thin rivulet of blood trickling down my face.

Connie winced with me, seeing the damage done more than I ever could and grabbing me by the shoulders…or was it withers now? Ah, horse terminology. “I’m so sorry, Aggie! It looked like you were having a nightmare,” she offered with self-depreciating frown.

The tearing of fabric ripped from behind me as I held my head, a little more perturbed at the pain than surprised by the strange sensation at a strange place on my body. In a moment we had both crawled out of the oak with no one else around. The stream babbled about its watery business nearby, and the parched air in my throat called for me to quench it with a drink. But Connie would have none of it, wanting to take responsibility for my injury.

“Ugh, look at all the splinters sticking out in the red stuff. Almost looks like the other night’s spaghetti,” she noted with a quaver in her tone. Then she repealed it with a hearty breath in and out. “At least it doesn’t look too bad. Sorry again, Aggie.” It had just returned to mind that Connie had always been the queasy sort when it came to these situations. This brave front she put up endeared me a small smile as she set to work plucking the splinters off my horn.

“No worries, Connie. It’s just a scratch,” I assured her, in spite of my wincing as she picked another splinter out.

Her eyes widened and she blurted, “Just a scratch? A scratch?” I turned to her at the reiteration, and nodded gingerly with a flat line on my face. Its face value seemed to satisfy her. “Well I guess you could call a four-inch long gash peppering your horn and forehead with splinters that. But still, WOW!" Her sarcasm was apparent.

"You're exaggerating, it's just a scratch."

She didn't mind what I had said and stuck a tongue out again as she picked out more of them, holding her faint of heart predilections in with quite some effort. “Geez, why did you even have us sleep in that hollowed out cactus again… Almost poked my eye out when I woke up myself.”

“Well because it was out of sight, in case patrols would come around by chance,” I replied.

That much was obvious, but the words went in one ear and out the other. Connie was too busy trying to stomach the sight of my wounds and stopped picking at it, while I had to do the actually suffering. The rashness that gnawed on my forehead and…the base of my horn was an incessant feeling that gave me no quarter of idle peace, so I forced my eyes wandered around in search of a distraction. The first thing it latched on was the fallen oak we had just crawled out of. The aging wood that loomed above us nearly as big as the gazebo leaned a precarious angle over the stream that fed water into the portions of its base that still anchored it down. For what little support it got from the stream, it relented from falling and continued to grow, and it would likely maintain that precarious angle with an almost serene stubbornness till the end of its days or some ass came over to chop it down. It was here Mergo first took me exploring the day we had met. Back then we discovered the hollow in the tree and camped here for the night till our parents had organized a search party and we heard them screaming their lungs out all over the forest. We were only six back then, but it was the most fun I had in a no-nonsense town like Cyril. The memory came to me as a daydream that seemed to last a good night’s rest. But when I came to, Connie hadn’t even resume plucking the splinters out of my head. She only stood there, silently regarding what to do.

I was just about to say something, but she aha'd with a hoof in the air. She must have forgotten she didn’t have fingers anymore, which made me smile. “I know just the thing that would make this easier on the both of us. Go dump your head in the stream.” I followed as she had told, and at least I got to drink some water along the way.

Returning to her with a soaked head, the bit was chomping at me to get a scope of our situation. But the mild pain was starting to get to me as the water had set in, and Connie shushed me down for my incessant fidgeting. She still stuck a tongue out for the sight of the wound, but she continued on picking the splinters out, not as easily fazed by thinned and runny blood. Once the last one was out, she covered the wound on my horn with a wrap of fabric, stopping the bleeding to great effect. She still held a gag in though, for the blood that soaked a blotch in the fabric.

With a cursory hoof feeling her mending’s handiwork, I turned to Connie. “Thanks for that.”

“No problem. It was the least I could do.”

The surrounding illumination struck a perfect balance, owing to the shadows casting a cool shade over everything beneath the canopy and light that shone past the breaks in the crowns of the trees. In the same manner, the cold and brisk air beneath the canopy mixed with the warmth of the sun rays that made it in, lending a get up and go perkiness to me the more I breathed in the forest air. On any other day I would have called Kirk out and then taken Mergo with us on a nice relaxing walk through the woods. And with Connie’s recent addition to our ensemble as per her visit, I would have very well strung her along such a walk as well. But this was not any other day. Mergo was not here…and neither was Kirk now that I noticed.

The realization surprised me more than I would have liked, and Kirk's absence gnawed me to no end. “Where’s Kirk?”

Connie was now rummaging through her luggage, humming a tune one makes while doing chores. Going by the torn blouse she tucked into a pocket as she held a resigned scowl to herself, I guessed that was where she got the cloth from. I hoped that wasn’t expensive. When my question finally registered to her, she reluctantly answered. “Ah… Well, you see…he went to check your cottage if the police were still there.” There was a slight jitter in her voice as she told me where he had gone off, and I echoed that sentiment several volumes more in my own worry.

“And how long has he been gone?”

“I’m not so sure really.” Connie fell to silent thought for a moment, counting mentally. “Maybe an hour or two by now? It was early when we woke up and he offered going back for a looksee.”

“Offered? Offered!?" She winced at my volume. "That idiot… If he gets caught, then I don’t know what we’re going to do at this point!” With a hoof just skirting the bandages wrapped on my head and massaging my temple, I sighed an anxious breath I didn’t know I held back. My distress only bounced off the sporadic itch coming from my bandaged head, agitating me even more.

“He said he would be careful!” She returned in his defense to placate me. “And if he does bring back something useful, then it would be good that he went back, see?”

“But that’s the problem right there, Connie! IF! If he gets back.” The outburst came out of nowhere, one I didn’t know was coming. Seeing the look on her face, I had noticed that my voice had grown so loud, and I restrained myself before continuing. “You should have stopped him.”

“I did try…” She said nothing more and returned to minding her belongings.

A tension came between us nearly enough to make a wall, and no longer did she hummed sweetly as she looked through her belongings. If only she knew how important this was… But If’s were the worst luxury to take for granted when something was at stake. And something definitely was at stake here. Mergo was out there and the chances of finding her were up in the air. I hated ‘ifs’ with a fervor. I hated how unsure they made me and how they always threw me for a loop… I hated being in the dark.

'If you must speak of the devil, do so well and hope for good tidings.'

The words slipped into my head unbidden. I didn’t know where those words had come from, but the ethereal quality lent to their utterance had an effect over me. It was…soothing. Its echoes resounded in my ears and knocked at my consciousness for a short spell. For a while the world became blurry and stepped a short length out of arm’s reach. The anger that brewed in me so quickly simmered and felt far away now. But seeing Connie sit there so close to me yet feel so distant, I only briefly recalled what we were talking about and why I had become angry. The spell ended and things were clear again, but now that I could think straight, it only made me even guiltier.

At this point, the apology felt moot compared to bandage she fastened to my head. But I had to try anyway. “I’m sorry, Connie… I shouldn’t have yelled.”

She offered no reply, not even looking away from what she was doing. But still she wiped away a sniffle with a hoof and kept a stiff upper lip. “It’s alright. You’re just worried about Mergo and Kirk.”

“It’s still no excuse for my attitude… You’re right. Of course, he’ll be alright.” Connie turned to look at me and returned my apology with a regarding look than keep up a cold shoulder. The sudden optimism that crept over me felt as some welcomed intrusion from far away, but it was right all the same. Now wasn’t a good time to dwell on things I couldn’t control. Not all faith is baseless.

“Was someone talking about me?” A voice in the distance hollered. Coming down the foot of the hill with steady footing, Kirk made his jovial way rounding the oak and rejoining us. “Phew, you wouldn’t believe how crowded the place is. It’s as if some celebrity came out of the blue and dropped a deuce there. Definitely smelled like it though. It was probably the gas.”

His arrival was both mollifying and unnerving at once. On one hand, I was just glad he was safe and sound from his little escapade. On the other hand, I was also angry he had gone back in the first place. Kirk set down his knapsack in front of us and was about to show us what he had found, but he stopped when he saw me.

“Uh, what’s with the head injury?”

“I had a nightmare, and scrapped my horn on the inside of the tree,” I replied dryly. He stood there dumbfounded for a few seconds, but a snigger soon wiped away the worry from his face.

“Hah, really now…what are you, eight?” He chuckled. Kirk uncinched his knapsack and readied to showcase his findings, but had trouble undoing the knot with his teeth.

"I'm glad you're still talkative in spite of our situation," I replied in deadpan. "Anything else you'd like to talk about?"

"Yeah, about these," he said in passing, splaying his wings open for a while . "They nearly gave me away when they cramped up and got snagged in some bushes as I stretched them. I tell you, I'll never get used to them. "

"I don't think that's what you want to talk about, Kirk."

He shrugged off my words and continued talking anyway.

"And when you mentioned your horn, it took me like a second to make the connection--"

“That’s not it either!” I yelled, making my annoyance more apparent. I brought up a hand to pinch the bridge of my nose. Fumbling a bit, I recalled that hooves lacked fingers to begin with, so I put it back down. “You went back to the cottage without us. What’s more, you said the place was crawling with police! That was plain reckless!”

“I was exaggerating. I counted about a couple of officers and scientist. They weren’t even on the grounds of the cottage. They'd setup camp a few ways off closer to where the crack had started up. And believe you me, that crack was huge!”

“So you followed them around for kicks?” I tried my best to hold it in. As much as I disliked getting angry again after having just cooled off, it seemed that was likely to happen, depending on his answer. What were those words again, and that voice out of nowhere that calmed me down... If only I could get that to happen on command. “What if they spotted you, or worse—“

“No, I didn’t not follow them around for kicks.” Kirk sounded appalled that I would think of him as the reckless sort. Though in my defense, he quite was that type of person a lot of times before. “The police were coming around in an on-and-off patrol. I followed them from the bushes, and found that they set up camp close to the crack, like I said.” As he went on recounting his story, the scowl on my face slowly relented. “Sometimes they'd go to the cottage to watch TV or take a bathroom break, running water and all. But they eventually went back to their camp though. When the coast was clear, I went in and out, only for the essentials...or whatever I could grab with hooves anyway. And judging by the smell, it seemed they fixed the gas pipe too. Pretty nice of them I think.”

“Well..." His hashed out explanation rather surprised me, and my anger mostly dissipated. I had better pull out the leader card so he doesn't get full of himself like he usually did. "It doesn't change that you were supposed to keep morning watch. Not parade around for someone to find you!"

"Come on, Aggie," Connie cut in, siding with Kirk who grunted in exasperation. "You should give Kirk a break, seeing he made it back safe and the stuff he brought back. We should check what these are."

Kirk leaned over to Connie and said, "Thank you!"

"Ugh! Again, guys, that's not the point!" This was starting to get out of hand. I had to drive it home so they would see things my way.

"Kirk, you were supposed to keep watch and only that. That's what we decided on last night. Now I would have been all for going back to check on things and scrounge up other supplies we could possibly bring, but you didn't run his through me. This isn’t one of your video game, or fencing practices where you can waltz around, just because you’re one of the top jocks. Mergo is out there somewhere, and we have to find her. Every second we waste piles the odds against us in finding her and—”

“Enough already!” Kirk shouted, swatting his knapsack away.

The air became sullen and heavy, and moments passed where none of us said a word. This was the first I ever heard Kirk sound mad at me and wear that angry look on his face. Connie complemented his disposition, only instead of anger she wore a disappointment scowl. I looked at both of them, their eyes downcast and unwilling to meet mine. It had finally sunk in for them, more gravely that I had imagined, more than I had intended. They were more afraid they had let on.

Kirk was the first to break the silence. His voice was weighed down by something he wanted to vent. “I get it. I really do... Mergo is all this and that right now, and she's so goddamn important…but I signed in to crash at Mergo’s place and eat some of her cooking! Not some life-changing transformation! Bet you my future career in fencing that Connie feels the same way.”

At the mention of her name, she shied away slightly, but Connie still had that disappointed look about her. It was too late for her not to be involved in this tirade anymore.

Kirk went on. “We are way in over our heads! I can’t even begin to imagine how completely screwed I am… how screwed over we are!”

He turned over to Connie, nudging her just enough to shake her from her daze. “Kirk’s right, Agatha,” she began. She had that same look Kirk had about her now and she forwarded her piece.

“The plan was supposed to be to spend a jolly week with my friends, sign up for a transfer back into St. Ajora’s in the meantime, and eventually come back to end my senior year in Cyril with a bang. Then Mergo comes along and throws a wrench into everything by turning us into these! I was warming up to her too, I really was. But there were things she hid from us and it blew up in her face, roping us into this sick funhouse joke. I’ll admit it seemed like a dream at first, and I tried to water it down considering that I’ve always loved ponies, but this…this is too much!”

Connie let out a sigh that was drawn out and tired, tears running down her face. She shook her head as she spoke.

“This is not the plan.”

Doubt had turned its heavy gaze and weight on me now, bearing down with such pressure, it took all my self-control to stop myself from lashing back at them. But my anger diffused right then and there, because they were right. It was supposed to be a happy week of fooling around in good company, and then another week of idle mundanity till school came back up and Connie came back into my life. This wasn’t supposed to happen to us at all. I was collateral. They were collateral... We all were. This was all Mergo’s fault…and mine.

I did my best not to stutter as I spoke. “I’m sorry, Kirk… A-and you’re right too, Connie. This is not the plan. We have to think this through.” There was a dam crashing behind my eyes and ready to burst, but I managed to hold it in. Not in front of them, for I was in the wrong this time.

“I-I just need to cool my head,” I told them, a tremble in my voice. “That’s it... That's all.”

Neither seemed to notice it though, or they simply had to cool their heads as well, the likely case. They said nothing as they returned to their own business, Connie securing her luggage again, and Kirk picking up his bag from where he had thrown it. They didn’t even turn to look as I rounded the bend. This wasn’t their fault. They weren’t even that close to Mergo to begin with. Kirk only ever maintained a friendly air whenever he was around her because I had always gone up to check on Mergo when she moved in. And judging by how she carried herself, Connie really was warming up to her. But with all these secrets and this sudden transformation, all chances for a steady and meaningful friendship between the three of them had been cast in the wayside. This was a bridge coming right up. I knew where I had cast my lot, but…but it didn’t make this any easier to do.

The wind, somehow fancying itself an accomplice, blew a mild breeze through the forest, rustling leaves and branches in its wake. With everyone all so heated up, the noise was a perfect cover to sneak away. By the time I got behind the gnarled trees it was too far away for them to even make out the sound of my hooves tousling fallen leaves in the wake of my gallop.

I shouldn’t have forced them to do this with me. I couldn’t… I had to find Mergo myself.

“Keep it together, Levy. Keep it, cool,” I said to myself. “Keep it cool. You’re new in town, and this town is all new. No need to be so on edge.”

Thinking back to how I had scoffed at Purple Croissant out of nowhere, I definitely shouldn’t be leaning so much towards impulse anymore. After her short visit to the Sugar Cube Corner, I had decided to go in and purchase a drink, but stopped short of hearing voices gossiping by a window stall in the café.

“Ugh, I can’t believe the riffraff that’s come into town,” said a glossy mare with a pointy nose in a hush voice. “Did you see what Rarity had to put up with just now?”

The stallion with the slicked back coif across her nodded, though he proffered his own perspective to round off the opinion of his wife--I assumed. “Well, the world is a big place, honey. I used to think the same, but not since that business trip to Griffonia last year, thank Celestia for the safe journey. The griffon’s there often say that Equestrians and Equestria born griffons think quite insularly. And now I’ve thought about it, it is quite naïve of us ponies to expect others to be as well-mannered and kind.”

The haughty mare scowled. “But wasn’t she a pony too? It’s one thing to ask for privacy politely, but telling off an esteemed member of our community—why that coarse sandy ignoramus!”

I guessed she meant the color of my fur.

“Now, now, dear,” the stallion assured placatingly “You can’t expect outsiders to know who’s who either.”

I had heard enough from them and didn't want to hear anymore. At their words my skin turned a season colder and a weight settled in my stomach so uncomfortably, I had nearly hurled my lunch for it. I didn't though, I wouldn’t have liked to waste what little bits I had left for the week. This was supposed a fresh start. New town, new faces, and a new leaf. But I had already messed up my first impression. What’s more was that Purple Croissant is supposedly this town’s tailor, a damn fine good one who had a lot of sway in Ponyville at that. The clothes she had on display looked so nice. Far more elegant and pretty to look at than the wardrobe I'd become used to. Stupid me, why didn't I keep my mouth shut in the first place? If ever at some point I would get chased out of town, at least I had contingencies in place. To not be careful, not be vigilant or on edge round the clock, it was all so new to me. Then again, all of this was quite new to me too… more than any pony here can imagine.

“Get it together, you!” I scolded myself with a slap to the face. No more thinking about the past, only moving forward. “New leaf...neeeeeeeeeeeeeeewww leeeeeeeeeaaaaaaafff.”

I had told Evee I was on my day off awhile ago, but that didn't mean I slacked off either. I had to keep the bits coming, and that meant waking my 'partner' up. Right now the oaf was currently napping blissful hours away up in the clouds. Even though Ponyville had a law against the harmless enough act, it seemed they were lax about it so long as no ponies napped on the actual weather clouds per se. But napping outside of town limits, that was another thing entirely. That was uncharted legislature for me.

It was a short leisurely walk to the park from the Sugar Cube Corner, and I had to cut across dozens of afternoon park-goers while keeping to myself. I saw them all around me. A neon-haired pegasus flitting around with her tall dark coltfriend. The nice dentist unicorn mare who had checked our teeth upon arrival, enjoying a nice day with a kite in the air. That mountain of a buff pegasus peddling his wares with a cart in tow a stone's throw away. The well-travelled business pony and his snobbish wife from the café, following me by happenstance in their own easy going promenade. And that rambunctious trio of fillies I've heard so much about, running to and fro across the park for some reason. There were many other ponies in the park, but those were all the faces I managed to retain. Simply passing through the peaceful scenery, even after a week of living among them, it made my own walk feel so surreal...like a dream. A dream I didn’t want to wake up from.

I had walked far enough that there were no ponies within immediate sight. I was now at the far edge of the park. The path I treaded was hidden well by grass long neglected and allowed to grow tall. I wondered if any of the locals knew the place was here, like this.

Walking down the path, it eventually led to a thin line of trees that delineated the boundaries of Ponyville clearly. There I pushed through its brush, making my way just out of town. It was a field of grass in its own pocket of the region, a good tenth of the park by my guess. It was dotted sparsely here and there by hardy unkempt bushes. Immediately around it stood the untamed hinterlands of the E'er Friede. Its ever defiant woods fenced the region in and stood an auld testament to the tenacity of 'wild' magick. Quaint of them to still refer to it as such. Beyond the forest and my sight dipped the vast and deep dug Gessela Quarry. The former lush valley it once was overlaid as a ghostly image on its current gutted state, where rocks tumbled and quarray eels lurked. Even further still, snow ever capped the now meager Mac Lír Hill range. Its once proud orange peaks marked the beginnings of the Edgelunds and still managed to rise indistinct and blurry above the E'er Friede canopy. All their names had changed over time and so did the Equestria behind me.

Everything was so different, even the view had changed... Was it too late for me?

Of course, not. There was always time, it only took some getting used to. Speaking of time, it was high time my partner woke up to do an honest day's work.

Wandering this remote part of the park, it took a while before I spotted a stray feather that clung to the tall grass. Sure enough in a gander up, a cloud with a particular belly caught my attention. There you were. "Hey, you up there?" I called to the sleepy head in the clouds directly above me. The question was rhetorical, if you were wondering. But I still expected answer of some kind.

There was nothing.

"Wake up, you lazy bum! You better not make me wait till I get a crick in my neck!" Still no response even after a couple of minutes. "Gary, you feggin' featherbrain, get up!"

Luckily for the both of us, I didn't have the patience to wait till I got a crick in my neck, meaning we'd be getting to work on time. Glancing left and right, there was nothing but tall grass around. Good enough for me to mean the coast was clear. I then picked up a stone and rubbed it with a stray feather of his from the ground. Light radiated from two places, a faint glow from my flank and a flash from my hooves that dwarfed it. Having cast the spell away from prying eyes, the stone was primed and ready. All I needed to do was send it on its way with a good toss up.

"Let's see you pick yourself up from this!" Confident it wouldn't be seen, I hurled the stone flying straight and true. At the point where it would have entered an arc down back to the ground, it continued to rise, and rise, and rise. Before long or even medium, it found its target up in the clouds, making a dull yet satisfyingly loud knock on the thick skull of one Griffgarrion Gamgè. Tumbling off his cloud, he fell as a flailing fluffy comet with a shriek before eventually steadying his wings. Third way through his fall, the griffon managed to catch himself by entering a glide. He landed shakily in the tall grass nearby.

"Loyal Levy, ya maniac!" He angrily started as he fumbled his way out from the tall grass. "Give me one hell of a fright first thing in the morning, will ya! What if I stalled, what if I didn't catch myself!? I could have broken a leg, or a wing! Or worse!"

"Actually, it's early afternoon now, soooo... A good afternoon to you, Gary. Have you taken a liking to the Equestrian sky?" I greeted with a playful wink and smirk as I helped him out of the tall grass.

"O'course, I've taken a liking to it. The climes are meek and mundane, clearly not as exciting as it was back in Squallfront. Can't complain. But what I don't like is taking a rude awakening and potentially turning it into a serious injury!" Letting go of my hoof, he managed down his brown ruffled grass flecked plumage with one claw while standing on his other three legs. A scowl as craggy as a dry desert plain evolved on his grey head while he beat the ground and stomped towards me quite upset. "Just because I fly well now doesn't give you an excuse to test it against me within an inch of my life! Ya crazed ground pounder!"

I motioned him to ease off with both hooves. Man, it was scary to see him so angry like this, but it was also quite fun getting under his feathers.

"Now, now. Don't get your feathers in a bunch. Tell you what, we're nearly late to work as is. So why don't you," I said, gesturing convincingly with a hoof before going on, "punch in with me, so you can make Evee proud about having a working bone for once in the time she's come to know you?”

He still wasn’t biting, so I went on and greased his wheels. “And if you still feel ruffled at day's end, I'll treat you to something nice in the E'er Friede. Whaddya say?"

He bore down on me for a tense moment before answering.

…

…

"Hmph! I do work, every day of my life in fact! We both know very well how that's worked out for the two o' us before. And I'm holding ya to that promise regardless!" He said with a wary talon pointed at me.

"So I'll take it that's a yes?"

"O'course, it's a yes, silly bollocks! Now if you’ve no more deathly shenanigans, I’m off." He took to the air and turn in the direction of our designated job sight.

"Selfish griff. Why don't you walk with me on the ground for a change?" I coyly suggested.

He turned to me as if I dishonored his family and his cow. ""Selfish griff. Why don't you walk with me on the ground for a change, like we used to?" I coyly suggested.

He turned to me as if I dishonored his family and his cow. "That's the thing though. Flying is the change from having ya drag me around all the time. And more importantly, would I give ya the solace of clocking in late together? Nah, love. Take a hike!" He yelled pointing sharply with a thumb before setting off with the breeze.

A small part of me felt chided that he just up and left. But I did have it coming, and he was oh so fun to tease. Maybe in some other life we were brother and sister. Anywho, it was a long walk from here to Sweet Apple Acres. Speaking of which, I had just noticed the squall line of clouds encroaching from the E’er Friede and hiding the nice sunny day behind a cover of gray. It wasn’t roiling with rain or booming with crackle and thunder yet, but they still looked heavy and packed. I had better get going before they started up.

Destination set with a glance, I marked the route to the farm over the map of Ponyville I had gotten town hall. Mentally reviewing all the twists and turns I had to make, only then did the scale of my route register. Gary was right. Even if this was a shortcut, it was still a sizeable hike. On wings, he'd be getting there in minutes. On the other hand, walking would mean I had to cut back through the park, a three minute gallop, head off from there passing Sugar Cube Corner and into the market, another thirteen minute gallop, and then make my way past town hall and down the long dirt path that lead to the Ponyville's farmlands. With nearly a thirty minute gallop ahead of me, I was starting to regret ticking Gary off. I could have asked him to fly me there. It didn't matter though, because it was still deserved. Huffing and puffing, I zoomed past ponies on the street, thankful that the impending clouds cleared the usual thick of pedestrians off the road. By the time I made it to town hall, I was out of breath and my legs throbbed for the strain I had put them through. That was the fastest I had ever run. Maybe I had run for five minutes instead of the projected sixteen at this point of the route, but that didn’t change the fact I was a mare of endurance, not speed. If I eased into a light canter, perhaps the gentle earthy breeze that blew from the farmlands into the dirt road ahead of me would be gracious enough to send a second wind my way.

Dust basins were strewed along the dirt path, having dried themselves off after the last evening shower. Some still held small pools of viscous mud in them, and I took steps to steer clear. Eventually it would rain again according to schedule and turn the mud into slosh completely. Ah, the things they did with the weather. The crazy arrogant things. Several farms saw me come and go as I passed. Their signs tickled in memory with their nice enough sounding names, but the ones that stuck more were those I had worked on earlier in the week. Carrot Cradle Patches, Zesty Vine Groves and Tuber Mile Tunnels to point out the better ones. And then came Sweet Apple Acres, the most notable farm in Ponyville. As I approached, the proprietor's name came to mind, or at least the pony whose name was on the flyer.

Speak of the devil and hope for good tidings, mother’s age old adage came to mind.

There the devil was. Applejack I recalled her name, and she had raised a hoof, sending Gary on his way. And boy did she look miffed. As I sidled past the gate that hung ajar, I briefly wondered if all the ponies here were named after the plants they grew. The stray thought did wonders for my nerves and winded lungs, but that wouldn't shield me from her ire.

"What are ya doing comin' in so late?" Applejack began with angry hitch in her voice. She was already started to sound like a devil! I chuckled at the thought.

In a more speedy recollection, it came to mind that I had seen her around at market before. She had worn such an amicable face back then, and the samples she had given away were divine. But seeing her mountain of a stride and hearing her drawl riled up like an angry minotaur shook me something fierce.

"The ad clearly said to come in around dawn, and look what time it is!"

A meek red bow ducked behind the corner of the house at her volume, but I paid it no mind as Applejack's voice only grew louder.

I approached her, head held low. "Sorry about that, Mam. I did get up bright and early, and came straight first to the bulletin. But seemed the evening showers did a number on your flyers. The paper was soggy and the ink was runny, it was barely legible by the time I got my hooves on one."

She shook her head when I finished saying my piece, making it clear she had heard it before. There was this look about her that said she was at her last thread of patience. "Yeah, yeah, tell that to the other two dozen ponies who got 'ere early. We're behind schedule with the barnraising enough as it is. You do realize I won't be stampin' your tag, right? On top of dockin' half your day's wages, that is."

My eye twitched involuntarily at her words, and I was glad my head was too low for her to notice. "B-but what about Gary? He--"

She cut me off, knowing where this would lead to. "Now don't you go draggin' that nice griffon into this. He has his own arrangements, and was here long before you showed up. So as far as I’m concerned, he's right on time."

I had to do something, even wheedle. I needed the bits. "But I started working here just now--"

"Now see here! I ain't hearing any more excuses from ya," Applejack interrupted me again, this time erupting with finality and a glare that demanded attention. "It's all mighty saintly of Princess Celestia to take in nomads such as yourself without a second thought, but don't think for one second I can't tell when my apples are missing. I run a tight ship with my regular help as it is, and I think it's fair I help your kind out with some place to start at. Ain't a big bother either if I go through a few baskets feedin' y'all over work, but sneakin' two dozen of 'em and a barrel of cider behind my back ain’t how we do things in Ponyville! And I know one of y'all is behind this!”

She was practically fuming, but managed to keep it in a whisper. It did draw some attention from the other volunteers, though one step in from Big Red was enough to send them back to work.

“Now I can't kick you out without proof, lest I lose face on false claims. But what I can do is make an example of ya.” You’ve got to be kidding me. She then pointed to some ponies out on the fields and a few on site. “See those fellas there? They’re here to keep a close watch on y'all during work hours. And if I do catch any of ya varmints stealin' my apples again, I'll make sure Mayor Ivory has every one of y'all hoofin' it out by the next moon! So if ya still wanna get paid, you better mosey on to the back and start workin'! Is that clear?"

"As crystal can be, Apple Mam. Right away!" I chimed in quick attention, forcing a smile before scurrying off.

Her accusatory tirade came out of the blue, it sure did give my legs a good shake. In any case, this didn’t sit well with me at all. If I didn't get my marks for the week, then they wouldn't be sending me the stipend to cover the cost of living! These ponies meant business in the most darnedest honest way, it made my fur stand on end. This was almost unfair.

More importantly, this rash of thefts. It was the first I had heard this rumor. I stopped to wonder when this all started when a line of insects marched their way to and from the beams we'd be using in the barnraising. "Uh, Apple Mam? There's this scurry of--"

"Oh, so you don't want to get paid now?" She shot a glare at me.

"No, Mam, no. I'm off!" It was one thing to have me work unmarked and dock half my wages, and it was something else to vent all that anger on me from nowhere, but threatening to withhold my pay--ugh, that yutz! Well it's not my problem if she doesn't want to hear my two cents! Not my barn anyway.

"Uhmm, 'scuse me?" I looked around both saw no one. "Down here!"

Didn't I see her at the park with her buddies earlier… How in the world did she get here on such short legs and not look haggard like I did!? Hmmm, well that didn't matter too much at this point. She was Apple Mam's kid sister, so I had better pay her mind. "Oh, sorry. Didn't see you there, Lil' Apple. Need something?" I offered craning down to her.

"Uh, well ya see," she fidgeted with her bow swaying as she spoke. "Please don't think bad of Applejack. She's just under a lot of stress lately with the storms bein' so bad on out trees. And this barn should'a been up at least two days ago. So please don't hold it against her!" She offered an apple with those final words.

Even in the dull gray light of the cloudy afternoon, a sheen reflected well off the succulent apple on her hoof, which I readily accepted and wolfed down in a bite.

"Oh... Wow, that's real good," I mused will savoring its flavor. She must have seen me running my way from the park somehow. "It's no trouble, Miss. Your sis is obviously upset for good reason. Say, why don't ya go and help her by scoping out potential suspects? Can't have any more baskets and barrels disappear from under our nose now, can we?"

"Way ahead of ya!" She hoped with a salute. "My friends and I are already on the lookout!"

She then scurried off to resume patrol, joining her friends who I now noticed we're waiting for her nearby. They looked so pumped to find the culprit. Such a nice fillies.

Approaching the work site, I looked for a toolbox to work with, but they had all been taken. It seemed I had lucked out, and would have to put up with grunt work. Not that I couldn't handle it, but I had preferred to delve into more skill based work this time around. It couldn't be helped though. I picked up a short wooden beam and glanced at the blue prints to where it was needed. I vaguely noticed some other workers picking up that pile of timber that piqued my interest, but now I had forgotten what about it interested me in the first place. It was as Miss Bloom said. The concrete foundation reached into the ground, having been there since last week now. I had seen them building it while working on neighboring farms, but the storm that spilled incessantly from the Everfree as they called it now had set them back several times since. The foundation needed fixing from the rains, the grounds became unbelievably slippery, and the chilly draft did no favors as they set up the new silos and other tall structures. Not only that, but some of these ponies probably never had experience building anything. Things were only more difficult as the wild showers spilled hard on the freshly set concrete without notice, catching the workers by surprise before they could cover it up. Even the farms I was working on then weren't spared. From across the fence, I had overheard during her orientation that barnraising was supposed to be a day long affair. But considering the things that have happened I understood where her irritation was coming from.

Nonetheless, threatening to dock my pay was not cool at all. 'In Griffon culture, this is considered a dick move,' I could almost hear Gary say in deadpan, were he roped into this along with me.

It was a bit past noon with a cloudy outlook for the rest of the afternoon's sky. I could see the weather team from here, doing their best to contain the storm clouds coming in from the Everfree. It was far from an uphill battle for them, but with the likes of Everett Fandango helping them, I didn't worry all that much. But I had better move along though, before Applejack tore a chord from yelling at me too much. I approached my fellow workers and asked around vaguely as I helped build the barn up, but they were just as clueless as I was. Sure they looked like thugs being as drab as they were, which made them obvious targets of suspicion. Seeing the trio of fillies skulking them without their notice only proved my point. But wait...where was the small pegasus? Oh, well. In any case, there was no helping it since they didn't grow up in Equestria. That there was the main difference that no one else knew...no one except for Griffgarrion and I.

Work went on for several hours without a hitch while the farm hands kept such a vigilant watch on us, eagles would be proud of them. There were a little more than half a dozen of them in total, and Big Red looked especially vigilant. I pitied the fool who crossed him. Another storm was looming on the horizon though, and it was coming in pretty close. Almost too close for comfort. I could almost feel the gust and drizzle from here.

"Looks good from here! This should be a good point to stop at!"

It was close to late afternoon now, though the gray sky didn't help my estimations. I was going over the blue prints, looking where to haul timber next when Applejack hollered to the ponies working on the loft of the larger unfinished bank barn. Gary and the others came down from the structure as our Apple foreman called quits, but the worry painting her face pale told me she wasn't satisfied at all. I guessed the storm off in the distance spooked her from whipping us into overtime.

"No, this isn't good at all. The long cabin fruit barn's all done, but the bank's still a toothpick skeleton!" She grumbled with her hat tipped to cover her face and concerned hoof up to her chin. "The old one's already brimmin' with apples in it and its hinges are so rusty, they look like they're rarin' to give! It might very well burst open on us over the night!"

The other workers had already gathered around the cart towards the front of the farmhouse, where Big Red distributed snacks, daily wages and stamped their tags.

"Don't you go thinkin' I forgot about you now, you troublemaker!" She warned me with a sharp glare, after seeing me eye the others clocking out. "You'll get your day's wage, but only half like I said. Ya ain't getting yours stamped either. That should learn you and your buddies here from any future misdeeds."

Ugh, again with the accusations! This was getting out of hand and I was suffering for it. If it weren't for needing the bits, I would have left anyway because she wouldn't clock in me for today's work! Well, at least Lil' Apple was kind to me earlier.

"How's the barnraisin' this time 'round, Applejack?" An old lime green mare called as she slowly walked from the house behind us.

"Don't you worry one bit, Granny," Applejack assured. Not wanting her elder to overextend herself, she met her most of the way. I could still hear them talk a little bit though. "The wild storms comin' in from the Everfree got us in a bind for a while now, but we'll finish it soon."

Those words were a mask of fortitude that hid the fears she spoke of earlier. Eventually they returned to inside their abode, just as the wind picked up. The storm was getting closer and closer. This bind really was no joke. Then again, it was foolish of ponies to control the weather in the first place. As much as she ticked me off for laying blame on me without evidence, Applejack wasn’t a bad pony as far as I reckoned. Pressured and malcontent but definitely not belligerent. Maybe I should check those blueprints again first. Do her a solid.

Running my eyes over it several times, I noticed something peculiar as a recent memory of the pile of timber beset by insects came to mind.

“Applebloom, wait up!”

I heard a petite voice call as I scrutinized the plans on the table. Glancing up, two fillies came into view one after the other from round the unfinished bank barn. The young white unicorn with lavender mane wore a worried expression on her face, but something about her seemed familiar… I just couldn’t place it.

“No… No, no, no, no! Say it ain’t so!” Lil’ Apple cried low with frustration.

“Wait…just…a second,” White-like-lavender huffed as she came to a stop behind her friend. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. We should wait for Scootaloo to get back. Maybe we should ask her about it first?”

“I know what I saw!” Lil’ Apple yelled at her friend, causing her to shrink back. She eased on her glower seeing how the unicorn reacted. “You were there with me, and we saw it clear as day!”

White-like spoke up again with a careful quaver in her voice. “But that makes it all the more important! We should clear things up first.”

Unable to concentrate anymore over their arguing, I closed in on them to diffuse the situation. “Uh, hey there, Lil’ Apple… Friend.” I tipped an imaginary hat as I approached, a gesture Friend seemed too shaken to return. “So I take it you found some clues about the thefts?”

The yellow filly wiped away a sniffle and scrunched her brow at me. “Why would we need clues when the culprit is right in front of us?” She said, point an accusatory hoof at me. The second one today.

“Huh?” Needless to say I was dumbstruck.

Friend Whitey approached cautiously. “Come on, Applebloom. We should let her say something first.”

“Sweetie Belle, there’s no denying what we saw!” She yelled back. The wind picked up, evolving in intensity with her anger. “You should be ashamed for what ya did!”

The trees around us swayed vigorously and the unfinished back barn nearby creaked in pain at the wind’s passing. I almost didn’t hear her words over its wolf-like howls. I approached to coax them inside the house. “Come one, little misses. It’s getting a bit exciting out here. Why don’t we finish this inside the house?”

“Get away from us!” She yelled as I drew near, causing her friend to back away with her. Then Lil’ Apple shouted at the top of her lungs. “Applejack!”

At her call, the weather peaked in form. We were awestruck at the noise that whirred into our ears from the air behind us, forgetting the what of things briefly. Turning around the three of us saw it. A tornado freaking out into existence. A rainbow blur rounded the tornado from a safe distance, assessing it with careful scrutiny. Something else caught my eye though, something far less graceful as it struggled in the gale.

She was there too. I could faintly see her wrestling wings against its current. Everett’s yellow coat stuck out like a sore thumb as she skirted the dangerous thing…and she was losing.

“Everett!” “Everett!” I called and heard an echo in the wind.

Another voice cried out as we watched the scene in front of us unfurl in the distance. Griffgarion Gamge rose from the huddle where wages were handed out. Maintaining his altitude with some effort, his sudden rise to a lofty height drew all eyes, while the name he uttered directed them to the windy demon that had spawned over the Everfree. The regular farm hands were alert and waiting on Big Red, but panic was setting in the volunteers who clamored in chorus with their hooves shuffling beneath them. The climax was an explosion, and the bank barn behind the three of us groaned.

In a short period of time, the tornado picked up a sudden and deadly speed then receded and dissipated into thin air. But it wasn’t as simple as that, no. Every pony there would have been breathing sighs of relief and talking about the sight, if that were all. But they all shouted in horror, pointing hooves up as the great swell of the freak dervish swallowed the yellow speck that was Everett. Round and round she went in its current, and after a several dizzying revolutions, it sent her careening in a mighty launch straight towards—SWEET BABY FAUST!! She was coming right at us!

At any other time I would have said it was beautiful. The trajectory the tornado threw her into was amazing to watch even to the artistically disinclined such as I. The others over yonder definitely let out some gasp, which collectively broke through the noisy gusts. The speed was almost unbelievable. It was almost like watching a circus act, a dubious one with all the risks and zero safety. Completely mesmerizing.

Not for Griffgarion though. Having the eyes of a practical hawk, he kept close watch of the accident as it unfolded before us, its audience.

“EVERETT!!” He rose up high even more with a mighty flap of his wings, putting himself between the damsel in distress and her projected course. He caught her in his embrace squarely right above the farm, but the momentum was too much. That was when I snapped out of my daze. The foreboding thought of losing both of them or seeing them irreversibly injured smacked me sober and alert, allowing me to zip into action. I didn’t care if the fillies saw me, if any pony saw me.

I clutched the feather I had picked up earlier tight and beckoned to Griffgarion’s plumage. There was a brief flash as I raised the feather in my hoof, setting a charge to it that commanded his plumage to follow. That was cutting it too close. They soared right above us and crashed straight in to the toothpick skeleton of the back barn. But the griffon’s feathers had puffed up into a fluffy ball that cushioned their fall just in the nick of time.

I sighed, they were safe. But that wasn’t the end of it. It all happened so fast.

Beams of timber screamed in a grating cadence of destruction as they broke at the impact of the brown fluffy comet. “Applebloom!!” Big Red boomed in a voice that made my hairs stand on end. The skeleton of the barn fell like a house of cards but was happy to see us there, breaking its fall.

For Applebloom, Sweet Belle and I, the feeling wasn't mutual. Not at all. The fillies screamed. I did what I could.

“Girls--!”

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In and out… The world swam around me… In and out… In and out…

There was a drizzling haze and a wetness… My face was wet, but…not rain, something else…

Beams creaking and there was crying near me…voices calling for me, faltering in sobs… And beyond too, outside the thicket… cries muffled and distressed...

There was pain too… but it was numb and distant… from points almost like... Big needles… cold, so cold...

Two faces… they hugged me with pale faces that pleaded… "You're safe..." I managed... But there words...hard to hear...

I turned but difficult to move… I saw all of us beneath…the canopy of timber and splinters…and nails…too close for comfort…too close...

The two fillies held my face as I struggled… I could only wheeze…chuckle. “That's all that matters…” Warm wetness dabbed my lips...it dropped down...

“That's all that...that's all that matters…”

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Hello, Moonlight, my old friend. Come to talk?

Turquoise eyes stared back at me affectionately… Her voice was ethereal.

Yes, I have, dearest Lavian… It's good to see you. How have you been?

One hoof in front of the other, echoes darkly tumbled back and front as I slowly forged on.

Not long after leaving Connie and Kirk, I had found a crack in the ground, a scar in the earth that led down in a gradual descent. The air had been thick with a tension I knew I hadn’t just imagined. It was almost like electricity, making my hair stand on end. So I had entered and never looked back… okay, maybe a few times… I regretted running off back then, because I had left my things with them. Now I didn’t even know what I had picked up in last night’s scuffle. I didn’t even think to check in all this time. Perhaps my phone was in there? I could have managed to unlock it somehow like Kirk did. But that didn’t matter now. I was here, had nothing with me and there was no going back.

“One hoof after the other…that’s the rhythm, Agatha.” I consoled myself. “Just keep walking…walking, walking, walking… What do we do, we walk, walk, walk…” The bare facsimile of the song from a movie I had just seen was supposed to be cheery and amusing. It had the opposite effect, only making me more of nervous wreck.

The air was humid and dank with the last sliver of light having long stayed behind me. Only smatterings of its reflected rays made it in with me, but I might as well be blind.

“Great idea, Agatha,” I began in self-rebuke. “A major earthquake rocks the continent, causing enough damage to cut the power to the third largest province of Ivalice, and you decide to go spelunking! Spelunking in the earthquake crack of all things!”

Even in whispers, echoes rebounded off the walls of the cave, giving voices to the imaginary jury of my consciousness, all of whom condemned me with every waking thought since. “Stupid, stupid, stupid! Worst call of my life! Might as well start chiseling the wall for my gravestone and write, ‘Here Lies Agatha, Foolish and Foolish. She had a Death Wish!’” I punched a hoof to the wall in frustration. Irony replied to the knock in the most ridiculously apropos way.

...

Aftershocks…

I ran in a panic as the walls trembled. Cracks trailed me from beneath their surfaces, but I wasn’t about to put my ear to the wall and wait for a cave in. The ground was uneven and slippery, often catching me unaware and causing my footing to slip. The tremor was now lasting a good minute or two. It was just a guess, but the thought of an earthquake lasting longer than a few seconds terrified me at every step. It was still going and I couldn't tell how long it had been now. I just wanted it to stop. On top of my terror, I was slipping on the rocks too frequently and my joints ached at the exacerbated—

“AAAAAAAAHH!!!”

My hoof caught on a rock and I fell. Not to the ground, no, that would have been mercy. Down to the level below. It was a sheer drop some twenty feet or so in height, maybe even more. The landing didn’t sugarcoat things either as it roughed me up with a good ol' fashion earthen greeting. There was an incessant ringing in my ear that blinded me in one more sensation, and I could only faintly tell the cracks that crept n my bones. But whether or not they were actually there, there was no point wondering. It was all just too much. It was no use. I couldn't see, I couldn’t hear...I couldn’t get up.

I cried, and cried, and cried.

Sobs echoed back and forth along the tunnel, likely sealed from the following earthquake. Deaf and crippled I couldn’t tell how long I lay there. This was my tomb, a dirty cave that sunk deep in the ground, and no one knew I was here. Connie and Kirk turned into ponies? Mergo galavanting in another world? The fuck I care!

I bit down on my lip til it bled. I didn’t care anymore. I only wept.

I was coming to. It was a hazy start, but eventually the picture became defined and steady. There was a light shining from an item across the way. A tremor took the tunnel for a buzz, causing specks of dirt and stone to fall through the light. The tremor came and went.

“Hey, looks like the runaway’s up,” a voice nearby called. I looked up to see Connie's face half lit, regarding me with her steel blue doe eyes. They were huge. I was lying across her…back? Leg? Flank? “How are you feeling, Aggie?”

Hoofs clopped on the ground as another person approached and spoke. I barely managed to turn my head to see who neared. “Better be lousy. She practically left us hanging.” Kirk hunkered down to get a closer look at me.

I said I would never cry in front of them. Never before had I let myself slip in front of them, not even once. There was a first for everything.

They said nothing and let me weep for a long time. My weeping rode on echoes off the long tunnel, and it seemed a dozen of me were crying all at once. They had turned off the flashlight to conserve it and turned it back on when the tremors returned. They rocked the tunnel in the hours that followed, but it seemed they were all benign, almost like gentle rocking of a cradle. That thought had popped up by the time I had run out of tears, and I let out a weak chuckle. My lower lip flared in pain, and I reached down with my tongue to find it had been bandaged along with my chin and neck. Now that I squirmed a little bit, I could feel the other bandages on my body. The pain was still there though, so I decided against moving anymore. All the while Kirk eased up against the wall to catch on some sleep after taking morning watch as Connie laid a meek caressing hoof on my head. Eventually she too followed Kirk and fell asleep.

One particularly rocky tremor shook the tunnel, and neither of them woke up. I was scared. But for its trembling, something tumbled out of Kirk’s hoof, settling by the flashlight and touching its lens briefly. There was a small spark on contact and its circuits began shorting, turning it on for a brief spell. The thing that fell out was a piece of a dull green charm Mergo had showed me once before and kept with her all these years. I must have picked it up without knowing when we made a break for it. When chance impelled the flashlight to flicker on again and shine, the wall across me looked like a canvas of stars in an enchanting, if not murky, green sky.

I had cried for a long time, and we sat in the dark for a long time. The fanciful thought came back, only this time, it wasn't amusing. It was appropriate. It was so much like a scene of new parents comforting their child during a thunderstorm. Only, there were dull grey stone walls likely untouched for centuries, instead of bright playful images and colors painting all over a newly furbished room. The tremors no longer scared me, seeming more like a drastic melody—if you could call it that—accompanying the unmoving mobile of stars on the wall. Eventually I fell asleep again. We all slept a restful sleep.

No distractions, no worries. Only deep sleep, sheep and dreaming.

Author's Note

[073017]

*My heart literally clutched up with an incessant buzz when I was writing the end of the middle segment. I couldn't write for 8 hours and ended up staying up all night watching cats and playing video games. 私の心、私の魂 :applecry:

*I'll be drawing up a draft for the cover art. The next update might take longer, but I might make the chapters smaller by a thousand words or so. It depends. I originally planned this to be 9k long. And the 3rd chapter ended up 7k longer!

*Also;

*~~The gimmick with the last words matching the chapter name seems to be getting stale IMO. I might drop it sometime in the next chapters if I can't keep it up, unless you guys think it's fine.~~

Nah, love. Gimmicks all the way! :pinkiecrazy:

Chapter 5 - Alarum Abound

I could feel the emotions radiating from here. Something had happened, an accident in all likelihood. Not a month ago I would have slathered and lapped at such a shower of energies, even if it wasn't as flavorful as elated emotion or as strong as base panic and fear. But now I was disgusted by the mere sensation of it, and I did my best to ignore it. In fact, I no longer needed to feed in such a way, not since that day.

Nevertheless, the ruckus behind me was of no concern to me anymore, and this part of my senses would now be geared toward intents and endeavors decidedly less base. But something else caught my attention, enough to illicit a very slight turn of my head. A particular hue in the spectrum was absent, or rather had faded. It was that pony. She was...

I paid it no mind any longer. I kept walking... My ear flicked at a strange sensation…an incessant sensation.

And yet its ardor was an unblinking sun, lidless and unrelenting. It tossed pangs of distress my way with every wave that pulsated, the incessant emotion knocking at some far away doorstep in the back of my mind. I thought it ironic, that one such as I would be beset by such an invasive thought, but the feeling would not relent in its glare. Even as I walked through the midst of Ponyville, even as its heat bore down on the back of my neck and on the tips of my ears, I did not let up. I was as cold and unfeeling as the steady drizzle that trickled from the fickle Equestrian sky, not giving thought to where the winds blew me. Just as indifferent as the dark that once welcomed me in solace and comfort...the dark where I no longer found such sentiments. I'd be damned if I were to spare these entitled scums a sliver of a kind thought!

The dirt path I treaded along was packed down and fairly dry, but the coming rains would see it soften again and turn into a runny loam. Looking up it seemed the climes were being fed by weather that came from the nearby Jagd. The static in the air gave me reason to believe the incoming rains would fall harder this time around, even harder than the early morning shower. I had better pick up the pace before that happened, lest I let my hooves get dirty. For those inclined to look, it would be a dead giveaway for me, and every pony would know who I was.

I had spoken too soon…and there it went again, that strange sensation. I did my absolute best to block it out.

On the last leg of the dirt path, a stampede of ponies zoomed past me from town square, taking me by surprise. The small mob was headed off by pegasii who hollered to the few trailing ponies following them by hoof. I stood stock still and let them move around me like a rock in a stream. As they passed, I turned to glance back at Sweet Apple Acres, its farmhouse a little more than an indistinct block in the horizon. With my eyes and a bit of magick, I could see from here that the barn still under construction had fallen over, likely from the sudden winds. But my business there was done. I had fed myself and no ponies had seen me. I could care less, and so I would.

"I said go home, will ya, squirt?" A voice hollered within earshot.

"Honest, I'm fine! I can make it up to everypony. Even if I have to make my cutie mark say sorry," replied a small orange filly, meaning every word as she rounded the bend on a squeaky scooter. She headed off another pony--it was her!

It took all the self-control I had to keep myself from fuming. Magick in Equestria was strangely more impressionable and literal that I would have burst into flames if I let myself seethe for even a moment. Just let them pass. Things would be fine if I just let them go their merry way.

The prism pegasus regarded her words carefully. "It's plain to see you're fine. But you've done enough damage as it is!" She returned, causing the filly to slow her pace a peg.

She made the turn in a bandaged hobble, one on a front leg, the other on a wing, and a third on a back leg, all on the same side. They stopped in the middle of the road as I approached. With the mob behind me too far to matter now, no pony was close was near the three of us. The ghost of a smile crept onto the corner of my lips. The temptation was tantalizing to resist! Oh, it would be too easy to put her out of her misery right here and now--AAAAAHH! Fire, fire, fire!

I fumbled in a little jig, dousing the tiny flame with a hoof. The show I had put on caught their attention.

"Ugh, what are you doing, Vinny?" The walking prism called to me.

Vinny, who was...oh, she was the ground pounder mare I had impersonated on my way out. Crepe Vine I heard them call her. "Oh, nothing. Just spit-balling moves for an impromptu act I was planning. It's a musical, you know..." The deadpan in her face was obvious. I didn't need that tumbleweed to comically drive that point home, thank you very much. The filly on the other hand, she was curious.

"You mean for the farm? I've never heard from Applebloom that Sweet Apple Acres was hosting a play. Kinda isn’t their thing... Don't you work there?"

"Well, obviously I do. I'm a farm hand there," I answered, going with the flow as they would say in these parts.

The prism pegasus came forward in a slight hobble, her deadpan replaced by dubious cynicism. "Then what are you doing over here? Look right behind you!" She pointed a hoof to the farm.

"Oh...Ah!" I turned and squinted, mustering half a believing voice enough to convince them. "When did that happen?"

"Oh, you mean you didn't hear all the screaming and commotion, and not see the mob of ponies passing you by to boot?" She exclaimed with that sass I came to hate about her back at Canterlot. "What are you doing here anyway…"

The two of them came closer.

"Well, you see..." What was her name again? I needed to think quickly! Try and remember--ah, that's it! And don't forget that country twang, either! "Apple Mam sent me on an errand just now. But there were so many things to pick up from the lumber shop, I guess I just blocked everything out trying to keep it in mind. She didn’t give me a list, see."

By her looks, it seemed she didn’t have time to deal with my excuses. "Eh, whatever. In any case, we're headed to the farm. You should come with, in case they need more hooves," she said with a blue hoof pointed at their destination. “Applejack will be fuming when we get there, I’m sure.”

"Sure thing!" I returned, stifling a grumble.

Either way implied risks. If I had just walked away regardless of any excuse I proffered, it would have given them reason to grow suspicious. I had better tag along and simply sneak away when a window presented itself. So long as I didn’t place myself near the actual Crepe Vine, things would be fine. I peered into myself and found her aura. I was in the clear still. This detour was just a minor hitch, but it made me want to see these ponies crushed into a smouldering chasm, the both of them. I stifled that thought away too, lest I risked catching fire again.

The way back was a short gallop, if I had galloped the way in the first place that is. The two pegasii trailed behind me with the older one limping on a hoof, while propping herself up as the filly pushed her along with her scooter. It would have been even more suspicious if I ran ahead and just ducked into the bushes. The little one was eyeing me as they went along, and I couldn't have that. The prism mare fumbled in her footing, her wings opening up at unbidden memory to find purchase in the winds that came our way. The ground was getting soggier by the minute. Seeing her struggle lent me some small solace, but the little one continued eying me ever vigilantly, as if I had crossed her at some point. Ugh, I had better go help her then.

"Ah, thanks for the help, Vinny." She opened her good wing and laid it over my withers as I approached her from her side. "You know, I normally wouldn't be so quick to take a helping hoof if there were more ponies around... You won't tell anypony, will you?"

She had asked as I caught a glance of the orange filly rolling along on her scooter and giving me the stink eye. I returned her gesture with a raspberry, which she also returned. Though, if I had my way with her, I would have caved her head in with a strong hoof down in a swift moment, a speck like the lesser bugs that crawled around us. A chuckle echoed in me for the thought. Thankfully, the prideful mare propped up against me didn't notice, her head held low for stepping out of her comfort zone. Well, like she could notice my emotions in the first place!

"Oh, um... I won't if you don’t want me to. Though does it really matter that much?"

"Of course, it matters! She's Rainbow Dash, Element of Loyalty, Wonderbolt in the making, the only living thing on wings to ever perform a sonic rainboom! Not even the Princesses can outfly her on good ol’ wing power alone!" The little filly exploded in a gush of fanaticism, bearing such an audacity that radiated at me as if the mere thought of doubting this mare was to doubt the rising of the sun. Her words echoed a slight warmth in the prism pony as well. "She has to keep up her reputation! She’s practically the leader of the Mane Six, when Twilight not around."

The mare, Rainbow Dash as I have just learned her name, cocked her head to the filly. "Is that what they call us? Pretty catchy, ‘Mane Six,’" she repeated with an incredulous smirk and a chuckle.

"Well, that's what Diamond Tiara said that her Canterlot friends called you guys, anyway. They even said you guys might be getting a Power Ponies spin-off!"

The mere mention of being featured a spin-off, whatever that was, elated the prideful mare into a grin. "Heh, well, Scoots," Rainbow began with a jovial tone that transitioned into one more serious, shooing the smirk the news of a spinoff that had plastered on her face, “Let’s just pin that thought up for later, okay?” Her gaze focused on the ruined structure in the distance, a little more than an oversized haystack at this point.

“Something tells me you’ll be doing more than just making up.”

The little filly followed her gaze and her emotional color flushed a shade bluer, anticipating what awaited us in our destination. But we were only a third of the way. And it would make for quite a tense silence if I let it go on like this.

The prism mare then directed her attention me. “You’re awfully untalkative today, Vinny…”

Oh lords, this was exasperating. I didn’t anticipate this. I had to say something to keep façade! Something whiny, or cheerful maybe? No, I didn’t know this Vinny well enough to act that way in certainty. Perhaps a neutral response would be middlingly inconspicuous.

“I was just thinking, Dash,” I started up before she could suspect me. “Maybe you should nip this problem in the bud?”

“Oh wow, you thinking outside of work?” She turned her head to me, and let down her jest in seeing how seriously I regarded this talk. And I had to, unless I’d be discovered.

“What do you mean exactly?”

Just say something meaningless! Spout nonsense, she’ll extract her own meaning from it all. “Well, you’re propping yourself up like some hot jock that craves attention every waking hour. You’re going to get knocked off your pedestal one day. I just hope that getting knocked off doesn’t drain all the color from your rainbow, so to speak…”

Rainbow took to my words and looked inward as I helped her amble down the road that slowly turned muddy. “Why don’t you do yourself a favor? Level things for a while and take it down a peg before this becomes too big for you to handle?” Needless to say, I had only ever known this mare from the other side of a hostile engagement, a brief one at that. So I chose to embed a little bit of speechcraft in my words, goading her to believing them if she didn’t already, harmless in the long run, but just enough to keep the illusion lasting for a bit longer. It was a simple enough spell for one such as I. All I had to do was blink and there. The spell was cast. Her eyes tinted in a shade of green ever so slightly…and quickly dispelled. That was odd.

“Pfft, yeah right. The last thing she needs to do is take things slower. That’s like the opposite of being 'Rainbow Dash!' And that's why she has Tank. Right, Rainbow? ” The filly turned to the limping pegasus so sure of herself. She even raised a hoof awaiting a high-five, but the pondering look about the countenance of the mare she admired lowered her forearm down and quickly wiped her haughty disposition off.

“Hmm…you say some pretty level stuff, Vinny… What grass do you put in your crepe’s again? Or is it some secret egghead juice in the dough? Don’t tell me you put meat in it…” She half-joked as far as I could tell and I threw some words whose meaning escaped me and only me. What did she have against meats?

“Well, most of the usual and the rest is a secret, personal recipe,” I answered, playfully winking.

The response made her chuckle, but then the rains began to pour down as she regarded my earlier words with more thought. The little orange filly said nothing as she buzzed along on her scooter beside us. We continued our walk in silence.

‘Hmmm, it seemed I hadn’t a thing to worry for,’ I thought with my ears flicking at something odd… There it went again! And it was making them stare. Just block it out…

We had a third of the way left before us by the time the rains picked up and loosed its downpour upon the town. And by downpour, it was right and proper rain. But considering the intermittent spells of soft showers the ponies kept to a remarkable schedule, these were close to stormy climes along scales of their concern. Perhaps they just loved the whimsy of the pastel sky and the insufferably bright sun. None of those were here at the moment, and I was calmed by the hues halfway to the shade I was used to…where comforts and solace awaited…and silent treachery… Shaking my head, I skidded to a halt with some effort as a particularly big pool of mud nearly slipped my notice, and I pulled Rainbow Dash out from relative danger. That didn’t spare Scoots—a name which sounded like an ekename to me—from that fate however. Rainbow had a chuckle as she stood on the side, looking on as I pulled the filly out. Not wanting to waste time, we had let her walk it off and the rains wash the mud off her for the rest of the commute. That was the last of their cheery disposition though. For the more we closed in on the farm, the more happy emotions bled out of them to make way for a whole palette of anxiety and distress, a scene completely surreal to the likes of them sliding into view.

Sweet Apple Acres was the farm’s name, now that I had the time to deign a read of its welcome sign. The farm itself was anything but sweet this late afternoon. Though I remained stoic inside, I did my best to reciprocate the faces of Rainbow Dash and Scoots as we entered the property.

Last I recalled they were breaking work by the time I decided to indulge and feast. It had been a strange sensation eating solid food and guzzling drink again, but my hunger had overshadowed the peculiarity of digestion as they then cleared the barns and huddled for their day’s pay. It shouldn’t have collapsed any time soon, but it did, much to my own dampened surprise. Lesser bugs of Equestria were even more incompetent. No one should have been hurt by the barn’s collapse, and the way these ponies carried themselves pointed to the likelihood. But this spectrum… I had been ken to many a sight far more desolate than these ponies will ever know, but what I saw made me wonder. Such an ambiance and the looks on their faces…the ponies were dumped as they would say, of that there was no doubt. But filtering out all the ponies who had passed me awhile ago and the farm ponies, it was as if the workers were no strangers to ill tidings. The crying in the air, their sounds and motions mirrored a familiarity to that place closely. That gray plane…the dreary place that they so despisingly called the Aerie. A droning doldrum of survivors that sidled through the debris, looking for scraps. I had ever only chanced upon the place once before on my march to Equestria, but the shades of emotion that loomed there were so murky and cloying, a changeling would find better chance of seeing the sun in my home. Now recounting the sunless place itself, the thought made me laugh, but I stifled it to maintain the gloomy air. Who were these ponies? The air they put forth was an air not out of place in the Aerie, a defeatist’s hue. I had wanted nothing to do with its people and I had whisked my retinue from that place as fast as our wings could take us. The Aerie was not place to be for anything, and I could sense it in their emotions, a veneer of normalcy that belied the sorrow and discontent of the masses. And perchance their desires were handed to them in an instant, I reasoned the voided black of their want would only grow. Magick was a substance of irresistible wont outside the Jagds, a deep rooted vice for over a millennium. Had they their hands on some form of magick from here where the stuff seeped like no one’s business… I shuddered to think how things would have escalated for them, only to go the dogs as quickly as it came. The vision was a smattering of the havoc that beset my people…when that demon proffered a deceitful salvation, so very long ago.

A brush against something hard knocked me out of my tangent daze, and the scene of the now turned to focus in my eyes again. I looked at the thing, the table with soggy blueprint strewn across slightly ripped on its surface. I was right though, it shouldn’t have collapsed so soon. The bugs ‘round here were incompetent indeed!

Rainbow Dash was looking at something else though, gasping at the sight in front of her with Scoots joining in.

“Granny Smith!” The small orange filly yelled, leaving us behind. She ran up to the large red stallion near the old mare, letting go of her scooter for the first time since I had seen her. “What happened, Big Mac? Is she hurt?”

The stallion nodded with his head held low, replying between sobs well-masked by the rain. “No, Scootaloo… Granny’s fine, she just done fainted is all.” I had hobbled my way with Rainbow Dash in tow, but she didn’t have the words yet. Neither did I, for it was clear to me this just wasn’t it.

Scootaloo, as I had now learned to be her proper name, she cocked her head confused. “Then what gives? Ponies are all acting sad, like somepony got hurt or…” There was a blip in her hue. The filly wanted to go on, to ask if the worse had happened. But she caught the end of the thought before it came out. The possibility was alien to her. The hesitance on her face spoke of the weight the words would impart on her tongue and the warmth they would briefly steal from her should she finish the thought.

“Somepony did get hurt,” he answered, somberly pointing to a trio who sat by on a beam of timber set at the corner of the farmhouse.

Our collective gaze turned and the two ponies in my company turned a shade paler again. It was that blasted cowpony, Applejack and two others. The three of us drew near and I was allowed a closer inspection of them without having to squint my irises. She sat there with arms around the two fillies who bawled against her. The fillies were less than fine, but she herself looked even worse for wear. And that was saying something. The fillies on her lap were covered in cuts and splinters, none of which were too severe for such young ponies. Their half-lidded eyes were webbed red with veins, the bags under their eyes having freshly turned dark, while the rain concealed the rivers they cried, but only just. Applejack herself was a phantom, her coat having visibly turned a pale sandy color while she herself neither spoke nor moved and only stared into vacant space. Not even the hooves she had around the barrels of the weeping children on her lap moved. Her mouth was agape…her hue a dark pit. As I read her countenance, the voices between us clamored. The two fillies, a light yellow one with a red mane and tail accented by a crummy pink bow that sagged in the rain, and the other a pristine white unicorn with two toned hair. Their features crumpled into a mess as they pressed their faces against her.

“Applebloom, Sweetie Belle! Oh my gosh, you two look horrible!” Scootaloo zipped over to them in a hurry, addressing her crying friends.

“Applejack,” Rainbow Dash began amidst the filly trying to talk to her friends, trying to find the words. But the farmpony didn't answer. Rainbow and Scootaloo continued to talk over each other, but the words they spoke were as clear as day to one such as I.

“I can’t believe this all just happened! Did the barn really fall over you two? Look at all those cuts and splinters… Please stop crying!”

“Applejack, you okay?” Taking a hint, I took a few steps forward to let her nudge a hoof at her friend. Her eyes moved slightly at the touch and sound of new voices up close, not batting her lids as the rain wetted them sober in the place of coddling salted tears.

“We were supposed to catch that thief red-hoofed,” Scootaloo went on, hoping her recounting of her blunder would make her friends feel better. The present hues were not a good selection, not good at all. They were contrasting each other, and if this went on, one hue would…I chose to let it play out in front of me, as curious as I was. “And I went over to get Rainbow Dash, like you said so she could help us catch them. But I got caught that freak whirlwind and it took me for one heck of a ride! It was amazing, but it was terrible also. Then that brave mare who isn’t as cool as Dash dove into it all and pushed me out! It was amazing, but also kinda stupid now that I think back… Is that mare okay? I hope she isn’t too—”

There it was…the slip, a twain.

A hue had bled out and burst in anger, and it was Applejack’s. For a split second, it had turned a furious red. Her hoof fell down, caught in mine before it could land a swift blow on the babbling filly’s face. As her spectrum doused from a red back into black, we all stared blankly at the development, even the crying fillies.

“Applejack! What the buck!?” Rainbow Dash yelled, limping over to her friend in a hurry and shoving her hard from her spot on the log. The cowpony tumble back but didn’t resist the fall. She meagerly propped herself up by her elbows after.

“You better explain yourself fast, or so help me, Colgate’s gonna be getting one heck of a surprise appointment for tomorrow!” The blue mare threatened in spite of her own injuries with a hoof cocked.

She winced in pain, nearly reeling back as she did her best to keep her bad wing from flaring up with her emotions. The fillies stood by me, frightened beyond anything they had seen until this point, their emotions literally painted on their faces in my eyes. Upon my own lips, yours truly only ever deigned to grace a thin line, unfeeling and stoic as can be. I knew, for this just wasn’t it either. I was just thankful no pony had noticed how out of character I was for my disguise.

Moments passed and not even a peep came out of Applejack, her eyes listless and mouth still agape like a fish out of water. “Say something, you bucking rotten apple!”

At her unresponsiveness, the pegasus let loose a backhoof that knocked the stetson of her friend’s head. The action caused the fillies to reel, particularly the yellow one, whom I assumed was the farmpony’s sister, being held back by her friends.

“Applejack! Rainbow, please--!” I cut her off with a hoof.

“No,” I said, locking my gaze with hers. “Let it happen... This needs to happen.”

At my words, the fillies hushed their voices, anxious for what they might see. If only they could see what I saw. Turning back to the bandaged patchwork that was Rainbow Dash, her hue was a fuming red. Next my eyes settled over the sorry pony on the ground. A dark green slowly pooled out from the black hue that loomed around her. That was a good sign. The hue then evolved into a dark blue, then into a middling blue, and then finally a dreary indigo. Applejack shed her first tear unnoticed as the rain continued to fall, but I saw it clear as day, a trickle down her face brimming with indigo. She turned to the pegasus who was still fuming at her. When their eyes locked, she cried a torrent not even the rain could hide.

Rainbow relented, her own anger simmering coldly with the pitter patter around her as she lowered her hoof. “Applejack…just say something, will you?” She shied her eyes, ashamed that she had raised a hoof at her friend in earnest hostility.

The cowpony sobbed and sobbed, but she managed to speak between them. “Blood, so much blood…” She cradled her head in her arms, casting her shell-shocked gaze to the ground.

“You mean the girls?” Rainbow asked to clarify with a hoof waving to our general direction. The unicorn filly and the younger Apple only held each other as their tiny-winged friend could only wonder, still in the dark. “It’s just a bunch of cuts and scrapes! They’re not bleeding anymore, they’re totally fine! And you overreacted, buster!”

“I’m sorry I pushed ya…” Applejack kept going on between sobs. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I’m sorry!”

Rainbow scrunched her brow, her hue assuming a frustrated yellow as she eyed her wailing friend. The fillies huddled closer to me, Scootaloo still confused and only growing more anxious while her friends managed to wring out a few more tears. I could feel every drop of it. Even the ones over there just past the corner.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I’m sorry!”

Rainbow had had enough. “Stop crying and try speaking Eoch properly like a grown mare! You’re not making any sense!” She pulled Applejack up by her shoulders and shook her back and forth.

Applebloom, whom I assumed was the yellow one, swooped in and put herself between the irate pegasus, unable to see her sister treated like that anymore. “Rainbow Dash!” She yelled as the mare dropped her sister and let her continue bawling, sprawled on the ground. “It’s not her fault!”

“What!?” Her frustrated gaze fell upon the yellow filly, . "Just tell me what the buck happened!?"

She pointed in a general direction, towards the barn that had fallen over at the back. “See for yourself!” The unicorn filly drew close to Applebloom and laid a hoof on her withers, both still crying. They rejoined Applejack in sorrow and sobs as we made for our next stop.

Past the turn, there we saw it... We had yet to see the full picture but their hues already evolved into an icy blue.

A yellow winged mare stood there blocking the sight as a griffon stood close by, looking on. They were a short stone’s throw away, but the ground around them was vibrant as if it had drunk from a fresh spring of blood. The mare and the griffon were covered in it. Even in the short distance, the simple act of making our way there was a weighty and taxing affair with these two ponies in tow. Coming halfway, the cold sentiments of Scootaloo and Rainbow Dash gnawed at my focus too much, I had let her off and settled the bandaged mare to sit on the ground.

“This is far enough, she’s much too young to see,” I said in somber monotone.

We both looked over to the filly beside us. She stared blankly into space and quavered at her limbs, bearing the same listless expression as the cowpony before she had broken into sobs. Hers was a small blotch that centered right over her little filly heart, an aureole of deep icy blue that approached pitch black. Rainbow Dash held the filly close and spoke in a hush voice to her. I would have listened in, but there were…other matters at hoof.

I approached and saw the griffon who wallowed on the side in despair, beak gritting and gnashing with regret while a talon covered his eyes. The yellow mare had flushed her own disposition in hues of denial. Hers was an ugly and dizzying swirl of dull and murky colors, an octarine deprived of its luster and left to waste away in the dust of some forgotten cave. She kept to a desperate rhythm as she pressed hooves on her friend’s barrel, keen against reality to have her breathing again. And when that didn’t work, she pressed her lips down to breath air into her lungs.

Neither efforts were fruitful, nor did they acknowledged me as I approached. It was unbearable to watch.

“It's futile…”

The yellow mare turned around, finally noticing me after having said one word. “…What did you say?” Her glare was force crashing against me, but I did not falter neither at her glare nor her radiating hues.

“You’re in denial…”

This last bit I threw quickly churned her ire, and the octarine evolved into a furious red. She rose up and turned around to gave me a swift buck, sending me in a short tumble back. While she had more pent-up rage and desperation to let loose on me, Rainbow had somehow put herself between us in spite of her state. Her griffon friend quickly came to as well, and he held her back. Getting back on my hooves, I passed the griffon and the mare with Rainbow herself taking it all in with a passivity completely unlike herself when she bravely fought in Canterlot. Scootaloo had somehow snuck past all of us and stepped before the body that laid cold and unmoving on the ground. Her slip was surprisingly less extraneous, and she cried looking down at the results of her mistakes with a face of stone.

Restrained by the griffon, the mare behind me raged on, spouting expletive after expletive as I approached her friend's corse and the filly who regarded it with silent tears. Her words were arrows upon the shield I held up in my ears. They flicked and swiveled incessantly at the noises that plagued me, and they fidgeted even more so in this rain. I rested a hoof on the stock still Scootaloo.

“We all are…”

I then nodded for her to rejoin Rainbow Dash who stood a stride behind us. The action somehow registered through her despair and her foal hooves shuffled and dragged on the muddy ground along the way.

"So am I…”

The admittance escaped me when I didn’t mean to…

Here it was…my slip, a snap. The twain in my resolve to never get involved and let these ponies rot away in their indulgence. I had forgotten myself…

I had set it all up...I was partly responsible for this…and yet there was something I could do.

I leaned down to the lifeless body, lips slightly ajar and frozen on her face in a parting smile. Whispering into her ear, a tiny light flitted from me over her body, fluttering here and there before settling in her bosom.

“Don’t go…” I began, with more sincerity than I thought I had left.

“Don't go gently…” The voices around me dissipated and turned silent as they listened and watched on. “Don't go gently…don't go gently…”

My hooves rested on her chest, and then I raised one up in the air.

“This…this is not your good night!”

Her head jerked upward as my hoof landed squarely on her chest. Her friend threw profanities for my actions with the other three quickly approaching, wanting answers.

The answer was a cough…a retching throat that spewed small drops of blood.

*cough…cough…cough…

The sound was a miracle to their ears, and all drew near to take it in. Even Scootaloo. The resuscitated mare let out a few more coughs, dispelling anymore doubt that she was well among the living.

“Loyal Levy! You’re alive!” The griffon rejoiced, tears more apparent in the rain that began to subside.

Smiles were abound, but none more wide and relieved than the yellow mare who held up her friend back from the fade. “Loyal Levy, you idiot…the daftest idiot in the Edgelunds ya are, in all of Equestria! Don’t ever do something that daft again!”

Loyal Levy said nothing in response, only breathing softly in her arms. Though, the words were more of a comfort to those around her than anything else. Rainbow herself openly shed tears of joy, albeit quietly and reserved. Scootaloo had released the dam she had held back and cried into the prism mare’s chest. She only ever broke her sobs to glance at the mare whose near death experience butterflied from her recklessness.

“So that’s her name… Loyal Levy…” I stated in a blasé voice.

At my words, the yellow mare’s ears swiveled at my direction. Her eyes darted left and right, hues telling of her mind that buzzed with a disarray of questions. The others followed suit and they all turned to me.

“Just who are…you…”

I wasn’t there anymore. Not really. Out of the light and out of their sight. In between the curtain or corridor of sunbeams that broke through the grey, whichever way you would prefer. Though if one looked closer, the hoofmarks still leaving a clear impression on the ground would have been apparent to notice. But thankfully they didn’t have time to notice, as a crowd of ponies ambled carelessly from the front of the property. I simply and quietly stepped aside as they lumbered over the last evidence of my presence. What impeccable timing.

“Heavens to Betsy…” Applejack was beside herself, unable to grasp her relief for a second as she came up behind the prism mare. The fillies near her were more receptive and smiled in light of the turn of events.

“She’s alive!” The red stallion beside Applejack exclaimed to dispel any doubt. “She’s alive! Somepony call Ponyville General quick--!”

“What the hay just happened here? What's with this ruckus?” Another mare cut in, coming forward after she forced her way from the back. Her hair was a murky green while her coat was a sweetly faded tangerine. “I’m gone for the afternoon on an errand for Applejack, then you slackers up and let the bank barn collapse—“

Her eyes fell on the delicate scene before her. Crepe Vine vomited on sight, losing the hay fries and daisy sandwich she had partaken of while away. And then she fainted.

My, what impeccable timing indeed!

What followed was a surprising development. At least to me it was.

The ponies present rejoiced as the casualty count retracted to zero. An ambulance carriage came by the property to collect the critically injured mare. Invisible, I watched them as they wordlessly assessed her shortly before carrying her off to their infirmaries. They were all surprised at her apparent case, and they did their best not to show it, lest they cause further commotion. And then a few journalists arrived at the scene to interview witnesses for their respective papers. They went around, tallying groups as they interviewed them, most notably the proprietors of Sweet Apple Acres themselves, and the four who had been there when the mare of interest had defied all odds and first came to, three of which had also been at the scene of the freak dervish. It was close to a field day for them.

Afterwards, they were all attended to by other paramedics who saw to their wounds as well as their traumas. Arguably Applebloom and her unicorn friend were worse off than any pony else in the farm, yet any discomfort they felt was supplanted by the relief of knowing their savior had survived, a fact that greatly relieved every pony present that is. In any case they weren’t too injured enough to admit, so they were let go. Scootaloo on the other hand still bawled into Rainbow Dash, even as they both received attention from their attendants, further attention in Rainbow’s case. The griffon was a little roughed up, not deserving much attention other than for some aches beneath his plumage. Relatively unharmed herself, his marefriend shadowed him closely as they accompanied Loyal Levy into the carriage.

Most of all, they said nothing about me. Not a peep about having seen another Crepe Vine pop out at a totally different place after disappearing from just a stride away. The other ponies present were too caught up by the gloom in the first place to even notice that I had donned her visage as a disguise. No pony remembered aside from those four who had seen me cast the shiny red down over Loyal Levy and bring her back from the fade. I could tell they remembered. The tiny persisting turbulence on them was clear to see, even though they had forced their questions to the back of their minds. They were keeping mum on purpose... I didn't know why exactly. But for that I was… I was…

It was commendable of them, to omit the truth in my favor.

The crowds dissipated as the workers and weather team made their way home. The Apples had gone in to cleanse the grime of the day’s tribulations and invited Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo in. Shortly after, that pristine unicorn who had a hoof in thwarting my past plans came round as well. At this point, I might as well assume that those six were a tight-knit group and save myself the surprise! The unicorn, Rarity her name was, had come to collect her sister, Sweetie Belle, Applebloom’s unicorn friend. The three elements talked briefly and then adjourned, after which Rainbow went off to escort Scootaloo back home. The farm was a now a quiet expanse patiently awaiting the passing of the twilight.

I had done enough damage here already. I had better move along myself.

Skulking the pristine unicorn, Rarity, and her sister, Sweetie Belle as they left the farm, I lifted a few bits from her saddle bag without her noticing. Underhanded sleights of hoof were beneath me, and it left a weight in my gut to resort to such methods. I didn't want stoop any lower than I had recently, but this was to be the last of it. There was no going back for me, and no going forward either. Head held low as I stood there with bits in hoof, I resigned myself to a failure’s fate. The rest of my life to be spent exiled in a paradise whose residents reviled me. But at least I would live with dignity, no longer a mongrel queen at a dark voice’s beck and call…however lonesome that would come to mean.

I wandered the town in an aimless dolor well after the sun dipped beneath the horizon. There were fewer ponies on the streets now, given this hour of the night. Then my eyes settled upon a peculiar sight. It was a popular café, the Sugar Cube Corner, as its sign so gaudily advertised. Normally packed during the day, I was somewhat pleased that it was still open when all other businesses around it had already closed. My stomach had the gall to churn and growl at the temptation of stepping inside, even after I had already ate, even after I had been eating all week! This was ridiculous. Perhaps that spell had drained a lot more out of me than I thought. It was never intended for use on beings other than changelings. Or it was my injuries healing in record time from simply being in this Equestrian air?

Either way, there was no use thinking about it at this point. I could only obey my grumbling tummy, so I approached the café in hopes that a quick bite would be enough to stave my hunger for the night. The establishment had been exorbitantly embellished with loads of sweet-themed decor, that I had almost thought a Verdanniem confectioner had been commissioned and had his way with the construction. It was appalling at first glance and grating to linger on. The interior was decidedly more sedate and quaint than the exterior, and I was thankful I wouldn’t have to suffer such distasteful design choices while partaking of the services.

Having long donned a new disguise as a nondescript off grey earth pony with lush chartreuse hair and beige accents, I strode into the establishment and approached the counter. It was helmed by that insufferable Pink Menace, but she was asleep at the counter, obnoxiously snoring at that. Ugh, could I possibly not be confronted by those who had thwarted me in the past? Karma was a cruel watcher on high. Well, at least I was alone in the shop…or I had come in just as they were about to close. Quite rude of me to—the saloon doors creaked as it opened behind me. I spoke too soon again…Ooh, the timing was once again impeccable…impeccably against me, that is.

“Oww, watch it!” A familiar voice grumbled, her wing grazed by swinging door.

The prism pegasus, Rainbow Dash, hobbled her way into the café as a tint of blue aura held open the doors for her. Following suit was the pristine unicorn, Rarity, letting go of her hold as she walked in.

“Ah, I apologize, Rainbow. I let my mind wander off for a bit there…” Rarity apologized, walking beside her injured friend and keeping watch of her gait. “Oooh, do forgive me…if I come off as light-headed again. It's just…this is just a bit too much for a lady to take in one sitting.”

The sullen look on her face was enough for the pegasus to relent. “Never mind. Let’s just go get something to eat while we wait for Applejack.” The pegasus took a spot at a booth close to the entrance, while Rarity fell in line behind me, ever bearing a pensive look.

Not a scream nor cry for help, yet half the ensemble was already bearing down on me with another on her way! This was a cruel joke, watcher. Oh well, might as well get this over with.

“Um, excuse me?” I greeted the pink mare, manning the register. She didn’t budge, continuing to snore even as I rang the bell not five inches away from her ear. “Ermm, miss?”

Again, she remained unresponsive. That was when Rarity came up from behind me.

“Excuse me, dear. Allow me.” She prodded at the Pink Menace on her shoulder, and when that proved fruitless, Rarity gently placed a hoof on her withers and coaxed her to rise. “Pinkie Pie, dear. You have a customer, so would please kindly wake up?”

The sleeping mare didn’t even stir.

“Oh dear,” Rarity exclaimed, turning to regard me.

“I am aware that Pinkie occasionally closes the café at odd hours, but perhaps coming in at a time such as this was not the best of ideas.” Her eyes shifted between me and herself, partially addressing herself with those words as well.

“Here, let me have a go,” Rainbow hollered from her booth. She took in a lungful of breath and—

“SOMEPONY BROKE A PINKIE PROMISE!!”

My ears rung with her echo at her sudden scream as did Rarity’s, but none more so than the formerly sleeping Pink menace.

“WHO—WHAT—WHERE!?”

Rarity and I consoled our ears with a massage, Rainbow guffawed as much as her bruises allowed her, and the now wide awake cashier glared daggers at her…or in her case, candy cane stakes. “Dashie, that was mean! You know how seriously I take Pinkie Promises!”

Rarity shuffled coyly into her view to catch her attention. “Do forgive Rainbow’s crude methods, but Pinkie Pie, you have a customer,” she mentioned before returning to the booth the prism pegasus occupied.

“Oh—OH!” The confectioner’s drowsy gaze drifted over to me after rubbing the sand from her eyes, or at least I assumed she was a confectioner. Sugar simply emanated from her in waves and assaulted my nose. Her lips curved down in a miffed expression that somehow felt misplaced on her face as she onced me over and glanced to the wall clock.

“Oh… This is kinda cheating, you know. I know, I know, it’s a Tuesday, but we close in five minutes!” She told me off with a wag of her hoof. After turning around to comb her mane and regain some of its puffiness back, she readdressed me with a smile sort of still looking haggard. “So what will it be?”

My eyes hovered over the menu as an indistinct flicking sound registered in my ears. As if I didn’t already feel annoyed from that incessant ringing that had been pestering me all day. At the flicking sound’s queue, the lights showcasing the listed confections flickered on an off until only one remained on. I could tell the Pink Menace had a hoof in this, judging by her hoof subtly articulating beneath the counter, the smirk she held back and the mischievous pink hue about her. This was getting annoying.

“Ha…I’ll have a daffodil sandwich and a Pinkie Cake special, please,” I sighed, taking the hint and hoofing over some bits.

Quite full of herself that her ruse was a success, she turned around to prep the counter behind her.

“Will that be to-go or dine in?” She asked with a chuckle. But her ears swiveled up when she realized what she had asked me.

“Dine in, please.” Her mane deflated somewhat at my answer and we swapped expressions in a brief playful staredown. It was amusing to say the least, and she poked her own eye in unfazed and then pointed the hoof to me vigilantly… This mare was strange.

The confectioner opened a nearby fridge, took out the ingredients and began making my order. She buzzed around at a speed I thought impossible for ponies, not slipping once in her dizzying pace. I had to hand it to her though, because I didn’t have much longer to wait for. And at the very least in following her sly suggestion, I had my order in a matter of minutes.

“Here you go. One daffodil sandwich and Pinkie Cake special.”

I eyed my order as I clenched the tray with my teeth and brought it over to a booth. Steam that came off them wafted into my nose, and while any doubt over its taste and quality was dispelled, I still wondered if this was enough to sate me when two dozen baskets of apples could not.

Seeing Pink Menace now free, Rarity cantered over to make her and Rainbow’s order, both items the confectioner was able to prepare even quicker than she did mine. Did this mean she was going slow in making mine?

With food out of the way, Rarity levitated their meals and brought them over to Rainbow as Pink Menace joined them with a cupcake of her own plucked…ugh, out from her mane. I had better keep my eyes from wandering over her while I ate.

“So Pinkie, do you have the stuff ready?” Rainbow asked as I bit down my sandwich.

“I have them right in the back, though I really hope Levy and her gang are okay with them being not so warm.” She scarfed the cupcake down so loudly as she spoke, I heard her from across the floor. I could still hear them clearly over this distance, owing that to my skills as a master infiltrator, and my interest couldn’t help but be piqued at the mention of Levy’s recovery.

“Did she look that bad?” The confectioner went on to ask, her voiced weighed down.

“Honestly, Pinkie…” Rainbow briefly hesitated, causing me to catch a bite of my sandwich in my throat and hack a cough. In a few moments, she found her words and replied in a somber tone. “Worse than you can imagine. If the medic ponies came in any later…I don’t know if she could’ve made it.”

The abject lie echoed in my ears as I finished the sandwich and started on the cake. Why would she do such a thing on my behalf? I couldn’t ignore this conversation. Chancing a glance, I saw a pink mane deflate again somewhat from behind a booth divider. After a passing silence, she spoke again. “Applejack should be here soon. Why don’t you go and get the stuff, Pinkie?”

“Sure thing,” she answered with a half-forced smile before scooting off her seat. “Be right back.”

Passing me by and making her way to the back of the café, I chomped at the bit as the window to confront them began to close. With the Pink Menace out of the way, I hoped this would pan out easier in a way. She just plain creeped me out.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” Rainbow noted addressing Rarity as I hurried to finish my cake.

Rarity sighed, massaging her temples with a hoof before speaking.

"Dear Rainbow, it has been a trying time these last several hours…" Tears peaked and welled in her eyes as she spoke. "Receiving news that Sweetie Belle had nearly perished in an accident, an accident over at Sweet Apple Acres no less, I-I-I was fuming and quite ready to collapse at the same time!..." Her hooves landed on the table in frustration.

I had stopped chewing as I regarded the morose hues emanating from her. "Rainbow, my mind wandered to dark places... I was on the brink of unjustly placing all my anger and blame on Applejack enough to end our friendship. Our stations as Element Bearers aside, I just don’t know how to come to terms with these emotions that very well held a firm grasp on me…and the thought scares me to no end...” The unicorn sobbed, barely able to hold her emotions.

A tense moment passed before Rainbow patted her on the withers and Rarity stifled her sorrowed altogether. Seeing her friend calm down some, the prism mare took a spoon in hoof and clinked it to her bowl. “And awfully deep, too,” Rainbow jibbed in a playful tone, gulping on her order of hot soup.

I was only a few bites from finishing my cake, sensing Rarity flush a coy pink in hues. “Oh, shush you.”

“Oh no, I’m serious,” Rainbow quickly replied, not missing a beat. “You’re talking about it and that’s the first step to coming to terms with those bad vibes. So that’s good.”

“Hmmm...and you’re quite ponderous yourself today, aren’t you?” The unicorn chuckled. “The others would be surprised.”

“Can it, Rarity!… I’m just trying some offhoof advice, is all…from a new friend…” Rainbow flushed at her prodding as I set my plate and utensils neatly on the table.

“Oooooh. And pray tell who might this new friend be? Darling, do spill!” The unicorn giggled in her seat, eager to leave her melancholy for the familiar respite of gossip. Her reaction imparted a small warmth in my ears and a flutter in my chest as I stood up and approached them… Regardless of the circumstances, I have never heard myself being addressed in such a way. Bar the detail I had been in disguise at the time, hearing their words only made me more curious.

“Um…excuse me,” I meekly opened, ears flicking incessantly all the while.

“I’m holding you to that later, Rainbow,” Rarity ended with enthusiasm before turning to me. “Yes, dear, can we help you?”

“Forgive me for eavesdropping, I couldn’t help but overhear…you ponies were talking about a Loyal Levy?”

Their faces crumpled with worry in mention of that name. They looked to each other then back to me. “Oh, dear me…Is she a friend of yours?”

“No… But we did share the same caravan coming in from the far west, and I am indebted to her a great deal.” A white lie in any case but still, these words…this unease in my voice…I wasn’t going off a script I had written off the top of my head, nor was this the mindset of a master infiltrator. This was sincere concern… Sincerity...I thought I had lost it. There in the deep pit of my soul, I found that tiny precious thing and clutched it tightly.

“Tell me… is she all right?”

Ooh, my head. An unpleasant pounding blasted away in my skull, stealing me from a long restful sleep. There I laid barely awake on the floor of my quarters, and yet it was still dark out, not even a peep of gray light peeking through the filter of the eternally cloudy sky. I must have fallen off of bed, which in part explained the ache that not only wracked my head but also pervaded my entire body. No matter that, this was not the time to wallow on the ground. It was still dark out, but I knew they were there just like before. Specks of dust fluttering, scions to the dream. As they had so whispered before, they whispered again even in the dark. And they were right. I had to get up, pick up my quill and pen the dream to paper before it slipped from my memory in the routine of the doldrum days.

Only there was no quill. There was no stack of papers, no inkwell, no uneven rickety nightstand that scraped legs on the rough floor. In fact it wasn’t even my crummy quarters.

A rain of sparks flew out briefly, landing on the floor before fading as the short-lived memory of stars I had seen that night. The ground was a smooth finished marble that had been matted by layers of undisturbed dust, outlying the shape I had impressed on its musty surface. The faint pervasive stench of swill water was absent, and while change was refreshing, the stagnant air that replaced it was oppressively unfamiliar. Drawing a quiet gasp, the air rasped my throat. I tried reaching for my throat to massage it, but couldn't move. My arms had been bound tight behind me, as were my feet. What I wouldn't give for swill water even now. A scratching sound flicked into my ears more distinctly from nearby, followed the sputtering of a flame that lit up the immediate halls and fended off the dark. My eyes fluttered open at the brightness, but I quickly closed my eyelids to a peep of a crack, hoping he didn’t notice. Beneath the orange glow of torch light, tight leather greaves collared a pair of lithe and strong legs above the ankles, ending in two scaly cracked feet that stood with blunted claw nails before me. Bangaa feet to be exact...and they smelled.

The memory quickly came back to me. It had begun as a pretense of an invitation to an unassuming drink. A merry drink over a simple trinket that would ensure my future in Garriene, and the shifty promise of it had been noodled before me tantalizingly. I took the bait none the wiser. She led me to their snare disguised as a tearful reunion where they cornered me like a rat and wrangled me like some prized hunt. The way I had been bound certainly made it feel that way.

Piper, that bastard, she had planned all this from the start! Was everything she had shown me just a facade? An elaborate lie...no, it wasn't. It was telling of our little family of dolls, a trait that stuck no matter how far we roamed or whatever trials we faced. We could never be insincere to each other. It was how we survived as well as we did. But what was she capable now after not seeing each other for so long? What if she had crossed the line and was now using her sincerity as a ploy? Threads of betrayal lead away so into the dark, a sign that also meant how much I had been left in the dark myself.

A furious resolve sparked inside me with the intent to escape and track Piper down for answers among other things. As anyone would have felt after finding one's self on this end of treacherous deeds, vengeance clouded the forefront of my mind. The audacity! Her depravity! She had used her own family as pretense to ensure my capture! I was not going to let this treachery go without pursuit. I was going to escape, and one way or another I would end things between her and I, even if...if…Yet there was no helping my current predicament. I couldn’t escape, at least not now. I could only pray I would be free soon enough and that my feet would be fast beneath me when the time would come to run.

"Get up you, slacker doll!" A gruff voice bellowed with a swift kick to my gut. The act had knocked the wind out of me, and he continued his assault when I still offered no answer. "Can't you hear words anymore?"

Tanzan hunkered down on lanky legs and playfully held a callous hand to his ear.

'You're mother was a lizard!' I would have tossed the insult at him and spat at his feet to punctuate. But having been kicked too often that it was a struggle to breath, I could only retch and spill bile from my empty stomach. The smile I saw on his face told me he was enjoying this.

"Haha, I'll take that as a maybe. The lot of you dolls are expendable anyhow." His hearty laugh reverberated down the cramped empty halls and seemed to continue on and on in either direction. I briefly wondered how long the tunnels went on for and where exactly I had been taken to, but in my current bundled state, my odds at escape hovered at number near nil. Soon enough, the hovered even closer to nil.

His amusement subsiding, footsteps echoed heavy and broad from the direction I couldn't see. It pained me to turn my head as I tried, but the telltale sound of the meaty end of a tail dragging behind a trudging encroacher told me it was a bangaa, likely the bulking Sahmad. His reptilian head peeked over the corner of my eye as he held up another torch. "You've had your fun, Tanzan, now rein it in. Sandata said this doll is going to be our new runner. Can't have a proper runner without a healthy set of breathing pipes now, can she? You know this more than I."

Tanzan sneered, tensing a foot in Sahmad's direction. "Why would you care though? Slacker dolls have always been slackers! A proper beating is what they need to etch some discipline into their memory for good and all. Makes sure they don't fall out of line anymore!"

"That's your vendetta," Sahmad shook his head. "And I would care because this is a job and this doll is goods." That was the despicable thing about these smuggler types. Nothing was object in their trade, even if one had the wherewithal to speak up and ask for mercy. I was just another asset, hence their cruelty.

At his words, Tanzan harrumphed indignantly at the show of reason, growling as he headed us off a few paces.

"And people say I'm supposed to be the brutish one," Sahmad jested as he turned his attention over to me. That little quip from him was surprising enough, but the way he carried himself made me curious... I wondered.

"Hey," I called to him. "Where are you taking me?"

"Do you really want to know?" He looked sort of surprised, that I wasn't scared to speak up to a hulking bangaa like him. Pulling out a flask of water from his satchel, he returned the gesture by surprising me in kind as he held its open mouth to me. "The answer might scare you witless and seal away your courage when you need it most."

I stared down at his offer dumbfounded. "Is this joke? Why are you doing this?"

"What, so a bangaa can't be decent without getting shifty looks? I'm here for a living and that living right now hinges on your delivery to Sandata. Nothing personal." He cut my bonds and handed me the flask, which seemed like a jug as he held it up to my small stature. Touching the mouth of the flask with my own, a cool refreshing splash crashed onto my lips and I widened my mouth to gape at the thing. Oh my stars, fresh clean water! The clarity of the water was sublime, but I did my best no to show it on my face.

"Why cut me loose now?" I asked after a hearty swig quenched my parched throat. "Why not carry me the whole way, if only to ensure I don't run?"

"Because hauling you would be a hindrance on the way ahead. You’ve got good legs on you, so I’d see you use them," He answered while cutting the bonds round my feet as well. Stowing his knife, he continued, "And suppose you do make a run for it…well, we've come far down long enough anyway. What’s more, it is pitch black all the way through to either end." He pointed over to Tanzan with torchlight handy in one direction and then over to the other direction, where only a blackness stared back. "You'd be wandering these undergrounds for days til you starve. Not a peep of miserable graylight for comfort."

While I was keenly against those of Sandata’s thrall, there was no malice or sleight held up by his words, not ones I could readily tell anyway. Repeating them in my head, I saw fewer reasons to doubt him and would have to take his word for the moment.

"Why does Sandata need me anyway?"

Tanzan stomped up over to us looking upset. "Oi, no talking to the captive!" He called, diverting Sahmad from my query.

"What do you care anyhow? She'll probably die within her first handful of runs, aha!" This Sahmad was starting to turn out a real blunt character. His words churned quite a fear and some strangely misplaced hearty abandon within me at the same time. Mixed feelings indeed.

"Time to stop dawdling, dimwits. The way has drained, but not for long. So start walking!" Tanzan huffed and hollered in a stride ahead, causing Sahmad to groan.

"No rest for the wicked, as they say." He motioned with a push at my back.

Catching up with Tanzan down the dark hall, we eventually came upon a dead end that hid a rough stairway chiseled into the stone. Falling into line, Sahmad headed the vanguard as Tanzan took the rear, sandwiching me in the middle. It was a tense silence for me as we went further down and down, the air turning colder. I decided to break the silence with a question. A question that had been gnawing the back of my mind, that is.

"Where is Piper?" I spoke coldly.

The hulking bangaa before me turned his head back, regarding me with no surprise as if he knew the question was coming. “Ah, that. Well, you'll see it soon enough. Best not spoil the view with my meager words."

“Humor me…I’d rather much have you spoil whatever surprise—“

The more I talked, the more a low vicious growling made itself known as it snuck behind my ears. Not wanting to be the focus of Tanzan’s ire any longer, I elected to keep mum for now and focus on our surroundings. “Keh, that’s what I thought…”

At his partner’s words, Sahmad chuckled and we pressed on.

I had never been underground. Indeed before the decline, I had scavenged my share of abandoned baknamy holes and Yensa nests, but never had I done so alone, always in the company of trusted family to watch my back. During the decline of Garriene, my captivity rooted a riveting unease in me and after the harrowing ordeal had passed, I never ventured back underground even in all my years as a scraper. Needless to say, I wanted out of these blasted tunnels, long forgotten routes and passages that ran through the unknown underbelly of the former heart of the Aerie. Having a vigilantly cruel taskmaster like Tanzan nip at my heels gave me no comfort, but with Sahmad taking the helm, I strangely had no qualms. That bangaa was…okay in my books.

We went on further and further. At this point, churned concrete and natural rock had melded, having been pressed so despairingly into each other, it became hard to tell where one ended and the other started. Now everywhere torchlight shone, bizarre details were revealed as they came to light. Rotten wood, rusty pipes and all manner of jutting protrusions stuck out of every surface, as if parts of the underground had been pressed into each other. We passed through a hall where I thought I spied a long bone jutting from the wall. I stopped to double take but Tanzan impelled me to move on with the threat of a beating. The protrusions were hazards pointed in our direction as we made our way deeper into the bowels of the Aerie. Some unknown ooze dripped from some of the hazards above, while some on the ground were so long, they edged our necks menacingly, threatening to gouge, slice and impale the careless. Eventually the hazards gave way as the ground angled down into a slope.

A huge open chamber presented itself before us. Rivers of filth poured forth from their cracked surfaces and abandoned the dank confines of the corroded sewer channels that bled as ruptured veins in the walls. It was a cyst in the earth, a cascading marsh sloping deeper underground. The smell was so unbearable and the fumes noxious, that we had to don masks and cloaks. Not only that there was barely enough footing for the two bangaa to walk side by side. I guessed this was what Sahmad meant back then. But the more time we spent spelunking into the bowels of this cavernous cyst, the more I feared the impossibility of the place.

Again, the place was a cascading marsh, with barely enough footing for the two bangaa to walk side by side. If memory and sense of direction served right, these caverns should have been extending further below the ruins of the Easton Slums. But that would mean we were veering off shore into the deep seas. Deep waters were not wet like actual water at all. They burned and scalded as an actual fire or fetid poison would on the skin, and to even be grazed by its fumes was to jape at death’s maw. How much more underground could Garriene have had? It felt like we were walking circles in a pus-filled welt fit to burst at any moment. Surely by now we should have hit a cliff side opening into the deep abyss. The worse that could have happened was the whole of the Easton ruins collapsing on us, crushing us like skittering insects who sought refuge beneath a loose tile on the floor. But nothing came to pass, not even a tremble. The cavern held the cascading marsh in a belly, sturdy and withstanding beyond my understanding. We kept on walking, following the disagreeable and improbable swamp down into the ground.

Then Sahmad pulled up a hand telling us to stop. We had reached an island at the butt dead end of the sloping marsh in the cavern, where the filth ended its run down and pooled to seep into the ground. Tanzan took careful scope of our rear in case we had been followed, his sharp reptilian eyes and ears keen to pick up the slightest disturbance. Certain we were in the clear, the bangaa nodded to each other, and we waded to a wall. As we came before a tight nook in the wall, Sahmad doused his torch light and sidled into the tight space first which took some effort on his part. Tanzan egged me to follow suit from behind and soon we were all in a tiny nook in the dark.

When we came to a dead end in the nook, the heavy grinding of stone sliding on stone echoed in front of me. An entrance opened up into a tight corridor that wound us hopelessly with twists and turns in the darkness. Its charred walls were not keen to the cheery jaunts of light, stifling even the radiance of a blazing torch to a subdued glow as it sat waiting at the sharp hidden turn of the labyrinth’s end. Without their guidance, I would have surely gotten myself lost, doomed to wander the corridors till starvation take me, a fate that awaited me anyway had I chosen to escape the bangaa in the first place.

I was mesmerized. That at the end of that cavernous vesicle of defilement in the flesh of the Aerie was all of this clandestine architecture. There, also awaiting us was a spartan antechamber with a rickety ladder in the middle of its space, leading further underground. A gentle draft blew in from the opening.

The bangaa nodded to each other and we followed it down step for creaking step. Its sounds hammered into me the possibility of it breaking under our weight, giving me cause to fear for my life. The fears were proven unfound as we descended, dismissed by curiosity when the cloying air of the swamp behind us gave way to a topsy yet wholesome chilly breeze. Touching down we came upon another antechamber, a smaller one punctuated by another torch whose light was also stifled by the same charred walls. Tanzan approached the heavy stone door this time, sliding it away as before.

There I was met by an incredible sight, a land draped by soft curtains of moonlight.

"What is this place?" I whispered in abject amazement.

Sahmad himself sighed, taking in the air. “Praise the gorgeous view while you can, little doll. This maybe the last you see such a sight.” His words were a little more than distant echoes, and were he not right in front of me as he said it, I would have thought the wind was speaking to me.

To say I was mesmerized as I had been with the secret labyrinth now seemed like an understatement. Seeing all that was before me, I was enraptured, enchanted. Even as Sahmad bound my hands again, this time with a leash attached, I lost all thought and presumption to the sheer wonder that gripped me.

"Gawk all you want, but dawdle a single moment and I’ll see you tumble over the edge," Tanzan reminded me with a tug at the rope. I nearly tripped at his actions but I didn't care. Sahmad might have rebuked him for his actions but I didn’t hear over the wind picking up and the sheer feeling of wonder.

As they lead me down a very long flight of hastily cobbled stone steps, I was able to take stock of the new world I found myself in. Behind us, vestiges of Garriene and its Aerie curled a jagged oozing spout from a rocky underbelly, out of which we exited. It had funneled down from the middle of the blackened murky sky, landing a ginger touch on the face of the snow-capped mountain we now found ourselves on. Beside it was a small waterfall of marsh filth, filtered by earth and falling as tainted drizzle. Ignoring the gnawing cold and the fumes of the Aerie that wafted downwind along the path, it was a beautiful, a gloriously fresh change. I wished I had a pen and paper to get a sketch of this down. Around us was an expansive mountain range, their snow-capped peaks walling the mountain we descended in and keeping the shy horizons of this new land away from my eager view.

On and on we went down the steps. It had been several hours since they first brought me to this world. By now, my amazement had subsided as hypothermia began to gnaw. It was then I spied a dense cover of green beneath the thinning veil of cloud and mist. It expanded farther than my eye could see, ending at the distant feet of the mountain range. Again I was mesmerized.

The winds howled a bluster over the bangaa’s cries as I stopped to gawk. “I never knew there was so much green in the world…”

And so much purple…

...

Wait a second…

...Purple?

The cries of the bangaa only managed to break through the howling winds as I regarded the light that shone. A purple light so bright…a light headed my way.

It missed by several dozen feet above us. The shockwave that followed was jarring and shook me to my core. The mountain we stood on trembled and it let loose a shelf of snow for the sudden jolt of energy that gave it a fright as would a nightmare cause a child to wet the bed. I did not see where the two bangaa went. My eyes laid solely on the rush of snow and debris as it swallowed me whole.

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

Pain…it ran in my veins…hard to move…

...

My blood idle…and nearly stagnant…so numb…so cold.

...

Snow crunched in the distance…but…so dark…so sleepy…

...

Just…keep dreaming…

...

...

...

I had taken a seat as Rarity skootched over in the booth. Her eyes drifted left and right, looking for the words to explain the events as she understood them, events I was already privy to. Hearing them again from different perspectives was…interesting to say the least. No, it was more than that. I was staring into another palette of emotions, another individual’s grasp and recounting of the same event.

Not long into her retelling, the Pink Menace rejoined us and I was properly introduced to her, though her hues were quite telling of some emotional restraint. Wasn’t she a party planner who welcomed every new pony in town or something? The exact detail escaped me, but the vague and ludicrous description only made my opinion of her lean more strangely.

In any case, she held herself back to listen to Rarity with the rest of us.

Her recounting was heartfelt and concise yet somewhat partial and uneven, which was understandable because she hadn’t been there for any of it. When she ended, the unicorn deferred to Rainbow for a first-hand account. My ears had been flicking incessantly at some blasted ringing I couldn’t place, but they did so more nervously for what information the prism mare might go on to divulge.

Rainbow’s version was accurate to say the least, albeit slightly embellished by her blunt choice words as opposed to the unicorn, and through her own prism perspective of things. But it was also accented with cheerful tones that gradually fell to somber hues the closer she drew to the end. The climax came two fold in her story. The first round of gasps came when she told the group of…Applejack’s meltdown, a meltdown in which she intervened in my place according to her account. Following a short silence, she continued to recount how Everett Fandango, the yellow pegasus close to Levy, slammed a hoof on her dead friend’s chest in a fit of denial. And that the final act of desperation—as disclosed by the paramedics in a slip of tongue breach of patient confidentiality as Rainbow received further attention—had miraculously dislodged a nail that was pinching a major artery to a tight close. Her detailed recounting of this part elicited the second round of gasps, followed by sighs of relief. But behind my façade, I knew better than to buy into her fabricated lie. Yet in the end, I was also relieved she had lied. Nevertheless, her recounting was more…complete, an enlightening sketch of the events that unfolded as opposed to my own tunnel-vision reminiscence.

Right then and there, Applejack came upon us. She was a bit sweaty from her walk, yet bath scents and soaps wafted from her faintly. Though her friends bought into her façade, there was no hiding her true disposition from me, a dreary twilight indigo hanging over her. We collectively regarded her as she approached the booth, waving the heat off her with her stetson. Vaguely aware of the eyes on her, Applejack shook of the wariness by greeting her friends. Then turning her attention to me, I reiterated my intent to join them in their late night hospital visit.

“Oh, am sorry to hear. You’re an acquaintance of Levy, aren’t ya, Miss…um.”

“Eldena,” I answered, as I had introduced myself to her friends just now.

“Hmmm, well it’s a pleasure meetin’ ya, Miss Eldena,” she returned quite dryly and drained, but managed a tip of her hat. “And as much as I like meeting new ponies, I think it’s best we get well along over to Ponyville General to see Loyal Levy. Visiting hours are almost up, and I’ve my own…matters to sort in the morning. So I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, Miss Apple,” I replied, the formality earning a chuckle from her and imparting a brief orange warmth in her hue.

Getting up and out the door, the five of us made our way to the hospital. Unsurprisingly, the pace was set by Rainbow Dash as she lagged behind us with Rarity assisting her from time to time. Applejack offered to help Pinkie Pie with her rather sizeable carry-on, but made no effort to hide the antsy and slightly exasperated look on her face. The walk was relatively silent most of the way, but that was until the hospital’s roof peaked over the cover of buildings.

“Come on, Dash!” Applejack cajoled, her sights quickly glancing between her hobbling friend and the hospital in the dark distance. “Never thought I’d see the day you’d be settin’ the slowest pace in the group. Sign o’ the times, I guess,” she scoffed in annoyance.

“Hey, don’t you start with me!” The remark caught Rainbow in an off-put mood, with her brow scrunching for it. Applejack merely harrumphed and walked on, hearing her words with half a mind. “You’d be bruised and limping too if you tried maintaining altitude in front a tornado that spun faster than the dizzitron at the Wonderbolts academy." Seeing the Apple pony continue walking and not even deign to give her a passing glance, the prism mare brought up more words, ones she was sure would get all heads turning. "I got these catching Scoots at breakneck speeds and crashed into some real stubborn hardwood trees to boot! And you nearly hit her back in the farm!”

Applejack halted and Rainbow Dash nearly tripped. The convoy stopped as Rarity and Pinkie Pie regarded the farmpony with apprehension, now that it had been brought out in the open. The tension was palpable.

“How’s the little rascal, anyway?” Applejack asked to break the silence, tilting her stetson to hide her eyes.

“Short version, she’s shaken,” the prism pony answered, with Rarity and Pinkie turning to her. “She has a few bruises and those will be gone in a week…but the scars, Applejack. Those will take time, a lot of time.”

Another tense spell of silence passed with Rarity, Pinkie and I regarding them in alternating glances. Then she answered back. “I see… I’ll be sure to set things straight by her soon enough.”

The weight in her voice was apparent, and Rainbow eased with a sigh. “You’d better…”

“You have my word,” Applejack ended, raising her hat and looking the prism mare straight in the eye.

After a short moment to let the tension diffuse and catch a breath, we continued walking over to Ponyville General, but stopped again when we realized another pony in our posse lagged behind. Turning around, the four of us spotted Pinkie Pie in the back a few strides away, dozing off. Applejack closed in on her while balancing the well-wishing cargo she carried for the confectioner on her back. For a moment she stood listless and unresponsive, only snapping out of her daze as the farmer drew very close in proximity.

“Sorry, sugarcube. Was it somethin’ I said?” The farmpony asked, not immediately realizing her friend had fallen asleep on her hooves.

One tense moment after another and the next one was already upon us, this time with tears welling in the confectioner’s eyes. She slowly rejoined the group with Applejack in tow. “I’m sorry, girls… It’s nothing, really.”

Rarity and Rainbow Dash’s hues melded in a pensive yellow as they resonated the same feeling. Rainbow was about to speak, but Rarity headed her off.

“Now, now, Pinkie Pie. Don’t be so quick as to dismiss your troubles to a thought,” she started, meeting her friend after shortly making sure that the prism mare could stand on her own. “We all have our feelings about this whole incident, but bottling them up is unhealthy. So please tell us, what’s bothering you, dear.”

Their eyes met in a sincere moment, and she nodded after wiping her nose and drying her tears… There it was again…sincerity. It was a bright hue, a momentary flash that staved off Pinkie Pie’s sorrow... momentarily.

“Alright…but can it wait till we get inside? I don’t want the cookies to get any colder in this air…”

“Yes, yes, of course, dear.”

A gloom hung over us all as we entered the hospital and settled in the lobby, drawing concerned looks from other hospital goers and some of the staff. Applejack left us briefly to address the receptionist and inquire of the room we were looking for. It wasn’t a big hospital, but in picking up on the telltale scent of furnish in the air and a glance at the floor plan described on the shiny new emergency map, it was a reasonable guess to say the building had seen recent renovation. Applejack then relayed the room number to us, and my eyes quickly scanned over the floor plan. It was on the second floor, a windowed room towards the back of the building. The hospital didn’t have many walled-in rooms.

“Well, then,” Rarity began after a cough to warm herself up and garner every ponies’ attention.

“While we sit here and wait patiently for their say so, Pinkie Pie, dear…would you be so kind as to open up now and speak your mind?”

The mare in question fidgeted in her seat.

“This incident has left its mark on us all, and these feelings will likely linger indelibly so for some time… So please, do share it with us. After all, we’re here to listen…”

Pinkie pursed her lips in an anxious moment and Rarity quickly corrected her words in consideration. “Oh, I’m so sorry, dear. Whatever matter is weighing on your mind, whether it be the recent incident or some other storm cloud looming over you. Please do share.”

She looked to each one of us as we gave her the floor before our half-circle audience. First to Rainbow who leaned on the wall with rapt attention, then Rarity beside the pegasus doing her best to look supportive, then over to me as I reigned in my fidgeting ears and met her gaze with a cordial nod, and then settling last on Applejack who offered her own short encouragement.

“Go on, sugarcube. We’re all ears.”

She let out a deep sigh and her mane fell. Then Pinkie Pie spoke.

“It’s really sad, hearing all of this from you girls… It all happened so fast and all in one day... Rainbow got injured in a freak tornado from out of the Everfree forest, you two nearly lost your sisters, Applejack got so mad that she almost hit a filly who didn't know any better,” she addressed the mares one by one, their gazes shying away slightly in hindsight of the recent tangle of serious events. Her attention then fell upon me. “And you, Denee,” she addressed me with a sudden familiarity. Her pronunciation of my supposed ekename nearly drew a misplaced grin out of me. “Your friend saved two terrified fillies from a collapsing building and she nearly…she nearly died.” Her voice hitched at the utterance of a word she thought she would never say in austerity.

Pinkie Pie’s eyes pooled with tears that ran down her face, and she held back sobs as she continued to share her troubles.

“But I’m just…I-I’m just a self-absorbed, hyperactive, doo-doo mare who can’t spare a second of thought for her friends…because…because…” Our collective attention on her grew even more rapt with each stutter, but none more so than mine. For the first time in a very, very long time, I was neither cold nor indifferent to the plight of others. Intently I listened to her pleas, and I did not shy away. “Because…none of those things are why I’m like this!”

I was confused. We all were, but we didn’t interrupt her. We let Pinkie weep there for a short while before she eventually picked herself up and continued. She wheezed and sniveled all the while. “I-it's all because…because…I’ve been having nightmares…”

“What were the nightmares about, dear?” Rarity said, asking the question on all of our minds.

“It’s about them… all the others… the other ME’s…” Pinkie managed to answer us through her hesitation.

“The other Pinkie Pies…from the Mirror Pool?” Rainbow Dash took a moment to recall the incident, an incident buried beneath more recent hubbub among the other things. As an outsider who had furtively snuck into Ponyville among the immigrants of the caravan from the far west, I honestly had no idea what they were talking about. But maybe that was why I was so curious to begin with. “But that was over a week ago, two weeks in a few days. We sent all their cloney flanks back to the Mirror Pool, and Twilight made sure of that…Why would you be having nightmares about them?”

“That’s just it, Rainbow… It’s just so hard having these nightmares every single night. Dreams without cake, no smiles, no family or friends aside from themselves…aside from myself. Sometimes it feels like I had been dreaming for weeks, even months in just a few hours. I haven’t had even half a good night’s rest since, and I’m running on fumes! But…but that’s not the worst part.”

“What is it, Pinkie? Tell us.”

“I don’t know…I just don’t know any more if these things I’m seeing are nightmares!”

The exhausted mare collapsed into her hooves, bawling. Her unicorn friend drew near to console her in an embrace and the other two shortly followed. The implication of what she said hadn’t sunk in yet, it was out of my realm to consider. I left that for her friends to ponder on and did the only thing I could really do at the moment. I simply laid a hoof on her back. It was the least I could do, but it was the most meager of efforts compared to the effect her friends had on her. Theirs was a somber palette that evolved more beautifully and wholesome the more she cried. The swirl of deep sorrow centered on them as a cloying mist, evolving through an assortment of dreary hues before settling into a bright azure patch not out of place in a clear pastel sky. My effect on her was but a small accent that had long been swallowed by their whorl of emotions.

The azure hue settled well among them and Pinkie Pie stopped crying for the most part. She still sobbed and hicked at times, but she listened well to her friends as they each offered their thoughts as best as they could. A hazy purple settled over each of them as they did. A haze of regret, I was certain.

“Whoa, Pinkie. I didn’t know you were going through so much.” Rainbow said nothing more. She looked away, having no words as she earnestly thought of putting herself in her friend’s hooves.

Applejack looked quite concerned herself, the revelation boggling her more than she could express with words. “Gosh darn it, Pinkie Pie. And here I thought you were the one pony in Ponyville who wore her heart on her sleeve day and night. It’s been nearly a fortnight since and given the fact we see each other the most often what with the market being just a short ways away from Sugar Cube Corner, I didn’t notice a thing, not even a peep!… I don’t know… I got nothing. Pardon me kindly, let me get back to you…”

I didn’t notice anything myself! Being the only changeling in Ponyville, that was not a thought perceived in idle passing. Only hair of frayed resolve kept my mouth from gaping open in disbelief as a landlocked fish gasping at air would. “Dear Pinkie, that must have been terrible,” I offered as she looked over to me. But that was all I could say.

Another silence settled for a good half-minute before it was broken. Rarity spoke up this time to offer her piece.

“I didn’t want to be the mare to start with this tone, but you should have said something, Pinkie.” Not breaking her embrace, she spoke over her as an elder would, almost as a mother would. “I know this is not our field of expertise, but dear, you have been suffering for a goodly week now! I’m surprised how you’ve kept your mane so poofy and your complexion fair that I hadn’t caught a trace of your plight just by the look of you! And you all know me, I'm a mare who can tell things at a glance. I'm as sharp as the scissors I shear cloth with every day!” Rainbow and Applejack rolled eyes at their friend's self-centered tangent, a tangent that they were thankful didn't last long. “Regardless, you have suffered so much already and done so alone! We are your friends, Pinkie Pie, and we are here to support you through whatever troubles come your way. And again while this is not our field of expertise, we do know one pony who specializes in a specific problem such as dreams.” She had ended her speech in such a knowing tone, but Rainbow Dash was quick to pick it up.

“Oh, right! Why didn’t I think of her before?” She aha’d with a hoof raised, and when Applejack met her gaze, the idea connected.

“Dear, Princess Luna. Why didn’t we think of her in the first place? The solution was as plain to see as the honest-to-goodness cutie mark on my flank. And Rainbow realized it before I did!... Now I just feel dumb,” the farmpony shared, reflecting the unicorn and pegasus’ thoughts.

Rainbow went on to scoff at the cowpony for the off-putting comment on her implied intelligence, but I didn't hear the exchange as another pony approached us, tapping a hoof on my shoulder in particular. He whispered words in my ear and I turned to them, eager to relay the message.

“Yes, yes, girls. Luna can definitely help, and she is but a written correspondence away. See, Pinkie Pie? You have no need to worry. We are here for you, come what may,” Rarity assured with the warmest of smiles that matched the greeting of a sunrise. They all did.

“Hear, hear!” She concluded and the other two concurred with hollers and a hoof pumped in the air.

Their joy bounded and leaped in arcing strokes and cascading hues as though it were an elated foal frolicking through a meadow at the first thaw of spring. I could only offer a smile silently as I watched on, a bystander...ultimately an outsider to their jubilation.

I was still alone.

The doleful hues that loomed over the confectioner receded as the night would give way to the day, and she took them in a warm hug. “I’m so sorry, everypony! I should have said something sooner!” She shed a few more tears of relief for the reminder of having such devoted and loving friends by her side. But none shed more tears than her friends themselves as they turned blue with the impending asphyxia. I shed a good amount of tears myself, having been caught in the improbable strength of her vicegrip.

“Pinkie...dear!” Rarity’s cries went unheard. “Pinkie Pie!”

With the only free forelimb among the four of us, I had no choice but to be so bold as to introduce my hoof to her face. The pair rendezvoused in urgency and parted without notice, but nonetheless they were fully met and had become fast friends in the blink of an eye.

*Ooof!

“Sorry, girls,” Pinkie offered as she rubbed the offended cheek, giving us a moment to take our breaths. “I got caught in the moment.”

“I apologize for…my forwardness as well, Pinkie Pie…” I managed to reply between inhalations. “But we can go now… The nurse pony just gave us the go-ahead.”

At my words, they hurried on over to the floorplan described on the map. Once again Applejack took hold of half the well-wishing confections Pinkie Pie had brought as a care package, and Rainbow Dash managed to amble surprisingly fast as her battered state would allow her, much to Rarity’s chagrin.

“Hurry up, Denee!” Rainbow Dash hollered in a look back.

At her pegasus friend's call, Rarity turned back to give her own lady-like shout out. "We'll be down the hall on the left, just up the stairs. You can't miss it, darling!"

“I’ll be along shortly!” The others were already ahead for me, and I made efforts to catch up, step for nervous step. But the flicking of my ears told me something was amiss. That incessant ringing… and something…someone, watching. That was the least of my worries now though. In another deep breath, I steeled myself as best I could for whatever scene awaited me. But with my extent of culpability weighing heavy in mind, that I had implicated Levy for a crime she did not commit and impelled her into the middle of careening disasters, my resolve tremble and turned brittle at the fringes. It was almost as if I were certain something would make it so…and me cede over.

Climbing up the flight of stairs it wasn’t long before we were met by two familiar characters. On a commons bench, the yellow pegasus, Everett Fandago, leaned damp spot on her griffon friend’s shoulder, having fallen asleep in her sobs.

Both looked as haggard as they had been on the farm, their fur and feathers matted in some patches and windswept in others. They had largely washed the blood off, but apart from that, I guessed they hadn’t gone home to freshen up, or even make use of the hospital’s amenities. The griffon roused up at the clattering of hooves drawing near, having nearly nodded to sleep himself. After a yawn and brief smacking of his beak, he regarded us in a whistle and whisper, so as not to awaken his sleeping friend.

“Well, fancy that,” he regarded us past a yawn, primming the disheveled plumage of his head at least. “Never thought fresh outsiders such as ourselves would be gettin’ an esteemed crowd o’ visitors at this hour.” His hue painted a merry blue around him, hinting to me the amicable sleight in his greeting.

“Howdy, Gary. Umm, how’s Loyal Levy holdin’ up?” Applejack addressed the griffon with a name, greeting him in taking off her hat.

“Better than anyone expected, Apple Mam.” With tired eyes he looked to the room where the mare in question rested, the door leading to in only a few paces away.

“The operation went by in a flash. Not even a half an hour on the table to get some stubborn bits of nail and splinter out o’ her. What Everett did was a shot in the dark bearin’ all the risks. The doctors’ are sayin’ it was a miracle that no further complication resulted from her recklessness.” He had delivered it well and quite convincingly even to me, but it remained a lie nonetheless. First Rainbow Dash, and now this griffon… Why were they doing this?

“Ngggeeh…buck off, ya daft mare…mmmm, that was my storm cloud and ya know it!…” The yellow mare under his talon grumbled and cooed in a fit of shifting hooves. The griffon stroked her mane and pecked her on the noggin to assuage her from out of slumber’s embrace. At the familiar touch, she was restless no more as a deep sigh escaped her.

“Hush now, mo stoirin. Wouldn’t want to make a scene a’ front o’ visitors.”

The sweet gesture drew smiles out of all of us, Rarity especially who audibly cooed. Pinkie Pie stepped forward and meekly asked, shuffling in her hooves. “Is it okay if we go inside? We just want to say thank you for being the bravest pony in Ponyville. She saved two fillies we love very much.”

The griffon named Gary seemed to doze off for second before Pinkie’s words register. “Oh, well sure, go on ahead.” We motioned to enter the room, but not before letting us off with a warning. “Uhh, but tread lightly will ya? Levy is sleepin’ and she already has a visitor. A touchy little prick at that.” Beak sneering, his choice of words colored Rarity a flustered pink, earning him an indignant and disbelieving glance from the prim and proper mare at his change of manner, while others and I only quirked eyebrows in curiosity.

Entering the room and closing the door behind us, the sleeping form of Loyal Levy came into view as she lay still on the hospital bed. It wasn’t a big room to begin with, sporting only an adjacent closet from across the relatively narrow room. Besides the lone chair and a bedside table, there was just barely enough room for the five of us, which explained the courtesy of her two friends as they hoofed it out in the lounge.

Nearly covered in wraps from top to bottom, the sandy areas of her coat free of gauze had been drawn across with a stitch or two. A vision of her likeness to a pincushion imparted a chuckle from my lips, as black as the passing fancy was. There were spots of blood that seeped and pooled in some areas but they had clotted up some time ago, telling us her body was fast on the road to recovery. Yet for good measure, a line leading from a bag of fluid fed into her arm, while a contraption that buzzed and beeped funneled air into a mask over her muzzle. Taking up the chart at the foot of her bed in hoof, it seemed she was scheduled for another dressing of gauze. But the curious thing that took the group’s attention was the apparent lack of presiding visitor the griffon named Gary had just spoken of. They might have gone off somewhere, likely to relieve themselves or avail of a snack, but it didn’t change the lateness of the hour.

And so, we moved to begin our well-wishing.

However, Rarity interjected with a gasp as she made a cursory yet closer inspection of the patient. “Oh my stars,” she exclaimed with a hoof over her mouth.

“What is it, Rarity?” Asked Rainbow Dash as she hobbled to the unicorn’s side.

“This is her…that crude mare I met earlier today.” Her revelation was lost on the prism mare and I, while it elicited Pinkie Pie and Applejack to follow with their own gasps of surprise.

“You mean that churlish outsider who done what told you off? Loyal Levy is that same varmint?... Are you serious?” Applejack scratched her head in wonder.

In short notice, Rarity’s legs trembled at the turn of events. She would have collapsed on the floor were it not for the farmpony and pegasus catching her. She sobbed and sniveled at the foot of the bed, chasing any doubt away with each tear that fell. Convinced of the coincidence, the two who held her close commenced with proper well-wishing.

“Hey there,” Rainbow Dash began casually, scratching the back of her head.

“We don’t know each other, but your friend out there saved a filly caught in that tornado a while ago. She’s a good filly too, so I appreciate it a lot…A-and you did my friends here a real solid back then, saving their sisters…oh, but not Pinkie Pie though. She doesn’t have a little sister in Ponyville...and her sisters aren't little anymore. Thanks for the solid. You were brave out there, today.” Pinkie Pie smiled as the prism mare booped Levy’s rear hoof when she finished.

Next came Rarity as she sucked up the tears that bore down on her make-up and ran black streams down her face. With a wipe of her hoof, she forgone her makeup entirely and made a statement as bare as her face. “I’m sorry I ever judged you by your cover. Merit and demerit...those should be reserved for the intent of actions, and never for presumption." She shakily placed a solemn hoof on her Levy's leg, hoping the fleeting sensation would go along with her words as Levy dreamt. "For saving my sister, I am in your debt. Thank you, Loyal Levy.”

She had kept it short and deferred to Applejack with a nod.

The farmpony hiccuped in a breath when she realized her turn was up, expecting Rarity to draw it out with spiel. She stepped up to the bedside, her stetson given to the prism mare behind her for the moment. Lips pursed, her hues receded into a tiny thing, a meek swirl of faded orange that fluttered over her heart. Were I to make something of this, hoofing over the stetson was a willful lowering of her guard. She was vulnerable and no one but I was the wiser. Not even her friends.

“Ah…i-it’s me, Apple boss,” she began with a whimper as she regarded the shambled visage of the volunteer’s face more vividly. “I came to say hi…a-and give you your stamp. In hindsight, it was just deserts I took away for no good reason. Y-you still deserve that pay dock though…”

Her whimpering grew louder beyond her control, and it called her friends to attention as she fell to her knees.

“O-oh, who am I kiddin’! I’m sorry!… I’m so sorry, I lost sight of them fillies and let my bull-headedness push you all into that crossfire… I’m sorry for everything!” She bawled her eyes out as her friends consoled her with hooves on her back, caressing her in 'there, there' motions. We gave Applejack time to let it out and collect herself.

It was Pinkie’s turn now. Though her mane remained deflated and the bags under eyes clearly showed, she put on off an air of cheer about her which showed in the rich reds, lively greens and festive blues. Though against the relative dolor of her friends behind her and her own revelation of troubles earlier, her palette felt a tad subdued however cheery she tried to be. Her mane was visual proof of that.

“Hey there, Loyal Levy. It’s me, the Pink Menace.” My eyes quirked, surprised she had referred to Pinkie Pie with exact same ekename.

“I know you didn’t like me being all up front and center. You didn’t like me from the start!” Pinkie chuckled at the circumstance, that in spite of their stark difference in character, they were here in the same room.

“But I’m happy you’re here. So many bad things happened today all at once, but because a brave pony like you stepped in, we Ponyvillians won’t moping around for long. Thanks for choosing Ponyville and for saving two very special fillies. If it weren’t for you, I’d be having one more nightmare lined up tonight. I’ll have the bestest, most awesomest party ready for you when you wake up. A party fit for Celestia and Luna!”

The party mare pulled out a party popper from her deflated mane, and the four of us cringed for the ruckus she was about to unleash. Instead what came was a sound as depressed as any of us were with only a handful of crumpled confetti. Collective tensions eased.

“Oh, rats. It’s the old one from the corner of the box…” Pinkie then set aside her well-wishing gift on the chair, leaving a plate of cookies and a cupcake out on the bedside table.

The gathering of friends then turned their gazes to me. Yet there it was again, that incessant ringing in my ear....

“The nurses will be up for a check-up,” Rainbow addressed with Levy’s chart in hoof. “You’d better say your piece soon enough, Denee.”

…

“Denee?”

...

…

“Denee, you there?”

…

“Eldena, darling. Are you alright?” The pristine unicorn’s hoof fell on her shoulder, giving her a bit of a startle.

The slight crack in the door only afforded me a view of the dull grey earth pony, one of many faces she had donned as a disguise. The pony named Eldena shifted were she stood, her palette remaining that stubborn and lulled hue it had been since she had snuck into town amidst the caravan’s arrival over a week ago. It had only ever shifted once into a radiant white when Levy had nearly bought the farm on an actual honest farm. I had felt it all the way from the schoolhouse, hence my running all over the place in search of the source. Oh, the trouble I had gone through and the circles she had made me walk. She was so gonna get it.

“O-oh, I’m sorry, every pony. I was…deep in thought, is all. Could you say that again, please?”

“The nurse will be upon us shortly,” the unicorn answered, as the rainbow mare’s words had gone in one ear and exited out the other. “Would you like to say something…or perhaps would you prefer some privacy? I understand you were the one who approached us, but we are only just acquainted. It would behoove us to respect whatever relationship you have with Loyal Levy…hence the privacy.”

She’d like that very much, I could tell she would bite. This way it would be easier for me as well.

“Oh, I…I’d appreciate that very much,” Eldena answered, a cue the other took well enough to slowly file out of the room. “Thank you all.” She was so stuck in her own gloom she didn’t even notice me standing across the hall when the door opened! The dullard.

The door closed behind the four mares, and with a tap of my hoof, their eyes fell upon me. The melancholy that hung over their heads all day sloughed off to an unexpected and baffling surprise, for which they took up the most ridiculous expressions upon their faces. It made me giggle!

“Uh…what’s with the mini-Twilight?” The rainbow mare asked, a befuddled haze having settled on the visiting posse. She limped in a step forward to address me. “Are you a fangirl or something? And what’s so funny?”

“Oh, sorry about that. I went to get a snack,” I clarified, pulling out a chocolate oat bar out of nowhere with my magick.

Even the color of my aura baffled them deeply. I honestly thought they’d be wondering why I needed to go off when I could just whisk a snack over to me on a whim. There was a perfectly good explanation for that, but I'll save that for later.

"She even sounds like what I'd reckon of a younger Twi, too," the cowpony noted, eliciting suspicious murmurs from her friends.

Munching on the treat, the quartet only stared at me more. The Pink Menace eyed me with the most curiosity out of them all, giving me such a discerning squint with her face not an inch away from mine. Her inspection finished, she craned her neck back and rejoined her friends.

“Are you from the Mirror Pool? Did Twilight make you?” She spoke her question with conviction.

Her friends exchanged a shared apprehension and they regarded me with increased caution. The cowpony brought her hat down tight around her head, the pegasus tensed her stance in spite of her bruised state, and the unicorn looked at me with disgust as if my very existence was an aberration out of place on any of the Moons.

I humored their austerity for a bit and onced myself over—oh god, I wasn’t decent! “Ehehehe, I see. Sorry about that… I was running all over town after school too. Ugh, I’m sooooo sweaty!” Horn alight I swiftly corrected the problem, turning my coat from a shade of light pink to reveal the proper full shade of my lavender coat, in addition to wringing out whatever stench, sweat or mud had clung to me.

“Tadaaaaa~…Better?” I asked in earnest, arms flung open to their reactions and opinions.

“Who are you, and what have you done with Twilight!?” The rainbow mare took a hard stomp forward with her plumage frayed and spread to appear bigger. Her façade didn’t faze me one bit. Then the orange cowpony took a shot at intimidating me, again to the same effect.

“Are you a changeling!? Were you the one stealing from my stocks!?” She virtually seethed as she spoke through her teeth. The two mares were fuming at me with hues and a radiance not out of place in a kiln. It was tempered and righteous as malleable molten steel. The only detail lacking to paint the picture complete was a trail of smoke.

“Pffffffffffffttt!! Ahahahahahahahahahhahaha!” As much as I tried to restrain my guffaws, the reaction offended them anyway. I didn’t blame them. They were so in the dark.

“No. No, no, no, I am not a changeling! Me, a changeling? Do I look like a changeling to you?” I shot back at them in a sarcastic tone.

“Well, you do very well resemble somepony very close to us. And you certainly did just change the color of your coat right in front of our eyes. How arrogant of you to reveal yourself without company! Only a changeling can do that and would be so blatant,” the unicorn countered. I could feel her aura attempting to grip me at the scruff, but dispelling it was child’s play. She winced at the slight feedback I sent her way. She had it coming. And I was glad no one else was around for the moment, not ever the nurses. They were making a scene.

“Color correction, darling! Do you know it?” I responded in a snobbish drawl. “As Ponyville’s premier tailor and dressmaker, that much is expected of you.” In finishing with a chuckle, the turnabout caused her to become flushed with embarrassment. "The pastel lights of the place are too bright for me anyways, but I wasn't the one insisting I blend."

“What did you do to Everett and Griff!?” The farmpony demanded, but I shoo’d her accusing hoof aside.

“Oh, please. I’m not their keeper, I don’t keep tabs on them.” I passed the quartet as they drilled holes into me with their vigilant stares. “Maybe they’re off for a snack, or some R&R after all they've been through. They could be plonking it up somewhere for all I care, let them do what they want!”

The unicorn flushed red even more at the lackadaisical fancy, and I giggled at her for that. “Why, I never! Changeling orunsupervised uncouth filly, it makes no difference to me! Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t bear down on you now and hand you over to the authorities in power!”

Her ultimatum made no difference. A bluff to call in the coming light of what I was about to show them. At this point it was a dare, one I was fortuitously set to meet. It had all fallen into place. Their faces said it plain, and their hues only assured me of it. They wanted an answer.

Their answer was about to speak her apology.

A momentary flash escaped from my horn, and they tensed while shielding their eyes. They had turned jumpy for the chance I had used the short diversion to escape, each one of them taking up a varied stance of own take at vigilance. They only stood there gawking and confounded even more when their fears proved to be unfounded.

“One good reason,” I spoke to dramatic effect, pushing the door open in a creaking arc. “Coming right up.”

As I walked back into the room, they exchanged glances, quite unsure of my meaning. So I motioned for them to follow with a cordial bow and a wave of my hoof, gestures they took to warily. Once again, they filed into the room. The lush-eyed grey earth pony with beige accents upon a chartreuse mane, the mare named Eldena, she had taken a closer spot to the injured Loyal Levy, right by the contraption. The stance she held was as stoic as a wall, but her gaze never left the bed, not even for the hushed cadre of ponies who had quietly reentered the ward.

“I’m so sorry, dear Eldena. But this…trickster here insisted we barge right back in. She has a point to prove, it seems. But
once her charade unravels —” The unicorn’s line of thought screeched to a halt when she realized something abruptly.

With a verifying hoof, I waved a limb in front of the grey earth pony, but she did not respond. Even as I tapped hooves to the tiled floor in a little jig, she did not budge. “What did you do to Eldena, you changeling!?” The farmpony’s rusted distrust dabbed a smear on the spring in my step, and I nearly fell into the grey mare and almost ruined everything!

“For the last time, I am not a changeling! Now keep to the windows and just watch,” I instructed them as I righted myself.

“She can’t hear us,” Pinkie Pie guessed. The others looked to her, hazarding her guess was close to the mark in a few glances. “She can’t see us either… She put a spell on Denee just now.”

I walked over to the confectioner, ceding a nod to her. “No quite on the mark, but I’m impressed! So with every pony in their places, let’s just enjoy the show, shall we?”

The audience pressed to the wall closely, going silent. It was about time too.

The mare named Eldena was starting to give, starting to slip. Around the grey pony hovered her stubborn and lulled grey haze. It was bland and uninteresting for the longest time, but when she snapped, a blot of dark indigo welled from the center and oozed over her as gaping hole. A lone tear escaped her eye and fell down to a gentle drop, the first of many. To those without the sight, the teardrop left a gentle ripple of a mark on the tiled floor. Only I could see the energy for what it was, and she herself likely did too. The emotion condensed in the tear bloomed as dark tendrils of smog before dissipating in an ethereal sizzle.

The four ponies didn’t see anything but they could feel it. Their hairs began to stand on ends.

“Why?” The grey pony began, the first thing she had uttered in a while.

Her voice was coarse and shaky.

“Why did you save me…why did you let me live?” Her friends were confused, and they exchanged glances again if only to ensure they were all mutually in the dark.

Eldena continued.

“It was a lovely forest. A landscape more amicable than all others I had found myself in all my many years combined. The leaves were turning an autumn brown, and the gradual transformation was a miracle to my eyes!” The sudden recounting took them for a surprise, and the nostalgia in her words crept into our minds. There it shaped visions of a shy hinterland hiding in the cool shade of a tall mountain. There on very rare occasions, common oak on the sheltered end regions during autumn would weep the lively greens off their leaves and take up a beautiful hue as pale as virgin snow, hence the name of the forest.

“In our failure, we fell into its wood unannounced and unwanted by this country’s people. There were so many craters, and so many changelings the ponies had managed to capture!” Her head craned up to the ceiling and she laughed.

“So many captured...” She managed between laughs.

The cackles that escaped her were raucous and maniacal, filling the room with its echoes and radiating pulses of indigo haze for every throw of laughter. The sounds echoed in the onlooking mares as a darkening shade of fear.

“So many captured! So many captured! So may captured! So many captured! So many captured! So many captured!”

Her laughing ceased, only to be replaced by hysterical shrieking.

“So many captured! So many captured! So many captured! So many captured!”

Head craning down low, she clutched her head in her hooves, leaning against the bed. Her tone eventually shrunk down to a soft and frail quality as her throat rasped in pain.

“So many captured…So many captured… So many captured… So many captured… So many captured...”

Her hues no longer pulsed. They weighed a heavy drop and fell to the ground as a cloying miasma.

The mare named Eldena wept.

“So many abandoned…so many lost …” Now the energies were crawling as a thick mist on the ground, and the emotions they carried crept up the hooves of the mares who watched on. Their attention had no choice but to be rapt and their gazes would not be torn away from the scene unfolding before them by anything, leastwise not by the tears that ran down their faces, tears that welled from invasive emotions.

“So many left without hope…left alone to insanity’s embrace in the cold gnawing of the dark…”

There she wept into the bed, wailing all the while beside the practical vegetable who didn’t even stir. The mares beside me cried with her unwittingly. The farmpony had drawn her hat down to shield her face and unsee the scene, but the act was moot. The confectioner hid behind her mane, her hooves pressed over her ears in a futile attempt to block all sound. The unicorn let loose a veritable river that washed away any remaining makeup while clutching her mouth shut with both hooves. And the prism weatherpony clenched her teeth in a sneer, feathers ruffling and wings flinching at the sheer melancholy even against her pain. Their curiosity was drowning in despair and they felt their heartstrings tug to breaking point for a mare they barely knew.

“No...stop...please, make it stop…” The pegasus pleaded, but to no avail. This had to happen, needed to happen sometime. I was only along for the show, a performance that left me in want of popcorn.

“One day, two days, three days, five days, a fortnight! It's been too long!” She angrily listed off, turning around and sweeping the gift stuffs off the table, sending them to the floor.

“It’s been too long…too long for any of them to survive alone! So why...” The grey pony’s face craned over Loyal Levy. To mundane eyes, a shower of tears fell on her face, but the mares beside me knew better. The sensation was too glaring for them to not notice, the cascade of indigo haze bearing down and washing over the infirm pony on the bed. “Why did you save me?... Why didn't you leave me to those ponies?”

The mare was silent, her body faintly cold and unmoving save for the rising and falling of her chest. The faint exhalations passing through her lips in deep slumber frustrated Eldena and she grit her teeth.

“Tell me why…”

Those last words were spoken in a whisper, but they echoed louder than anything else in the room. The mares beside me shivered. Even I myself was not immune to a slight tingle.

Here it came again…

Another slip, another snap. And boy, it was one hell of doozie.

The ponies beside me did not see, but they felt what I saw. A cold rush of darkness enveloped the room and surged out in every direction with no regard of barriers either material or magickal in nature. All of Ponyville trembled for a short spell that day, and it would come to be known in their long treasured history as the ‘Gray Day,’ the day everyone in town wept. Not much would be gleaned about the phenomenon and the only damage it would deal to the town worthy of a footnote was a jolt in the circuitry of one breathing contraption in Ponyville General.

The lone machine at the bedside went haywire, screaming and shuddering before its screens seized in a multitude of colors. Then it turned black. The wake of its demise was a burst of light that sent small forks of electricity skittering in a brief and localized array. Every pony in the room was taken for a surprise and took cover. All but me that is, seeing the opportunity it presented.

She was gonna get it so bad. I smiled with the apex of the radiance, my eyes warded against its brightness.

Concurrent with the surge, I let loose a flash from my horn. When the light faded and the smoke and crackle settled, every pony in the room was coughing and hacking. Every pony and changeling, that is.

The smoke slowly receded much like how a curtain would draw away from center stage. The mares gasped at the sight before them. A revelation, an epiphany.

The grey earth pony with chartreuse mane was gone, and in her place, a changeling queen propped herself up on the floor. She gathered her bearings in front them as she had just withstood the surge of electricity from the malfunctioning machine not a hoof away. Standing to her full height, the shapeshifter coughed and hacked with a bit of blood running down the side of her crownless head. Loyal Levy laid unmoving on the hospital bed, even through all that. Apart from the dust and flecks of debris that settled over her, she was unharmed.

Said bed she laid upon had been push away diagonally across the room, having been carted directly toward us, the audience. The cowpony had put herself between the oncoming furnishing and her friends, the pristine unicorn and the injured prism weatherpony. Her body made hardy from daily toil of farm life took the brunt of the force while pink confectioner was nowhere to be found. To everyone’s surprise—even my own I loath to admit—she emerged from the lone closet in the room, sliding its door open after having somehow hidden herself in it at some point.

All heads jerked to the closet door. Though to the wary changeling, it had ominously flown open for no apparent reason. However, she set thoughts of poltergeists aside as she had more pressing matters to worry about. The changeling looked inward and focused, but her magick ignored her call. She was mute of her abilities when she needed them the most.

A bell rung out. The hospital was in a state of alert and alarms were blaring all over. A shower of water sprinkled from the top of the room to the accompaniment of hooves racing outside in the halls, nurse ponies, no doubt, anxious over the well-being of their patients. The changeling queen was quick to respond, and as the four ponies still hacked and coughed and wiped their eyes, she threw herself out the window and disappeared into the night, none the wiser we had been there all along. Her landing rustled off as she fell into the bushes, well out of plain sight. Certain the changeling was long gone in a glance outside, I lowered the ward I had placed on myself and the four mares, causing it to thrum and dispel.

“Welp, that went well, didn’t it? Good riddance, I say!” I haughtily cheered with a snort and hoof pawing the floor.

At that moment, the doors to the room swung open. The sweet and lovable Nurse Redheart ran in from the hallway and surveyed the room. “Is any pony hurt?” She inquired, unheeding to the stream of tears running down her face.

“Alarum Abound!” The party pony responded nonsensically. She quickly took her big mouth in hoof and held it shut.

Were there any appropriate time for tumbleweed to comically roll across the scene, now would have been it. Alas, this was a hospital in an idyllic countryside far from such places where said object might be roaming. What’s more was that rain had been schedule by its weather team, so the chances were ever more so closer to nil.

Nurse Redheart picked things up from there hesitantly. “I’ll…take that as a maybe.” After that she closed in on Loyal Levy on the bed, focusing where her attention was needed the most.

Three friends turned their attention to the pink mare, keeping to hushed volumes. “Aside from what…Celestia knows exactly just happened…Pinkie, what in tarnation was that about?”

“Oh, sorry about that, girls,” she apologized with a sniveling smile, her straight mane fluffing up slightly in small curls. “I was doing a good friend a solid! Even capitalized my A’s too!”

The unicorn’s patience wore thin as she brought a hoof up to the base of her horn. “Bwuh—Pinkie dear, whatever are you talking about?”

As all three of her friends incredibly considered the events that had taken place and braced for coming headaches of their own, I approached her to relay a message. “Pinkie Pie?”

“Hmmm? Oh!” She turned full body to face me, her earlier apprehensions forgotten. “What is it, scary little filly?” Well, almost forgotten.

“Blankscape says 'thank you.'”

The words cut a toothy grin across her face and her mane regained its signature bounce. Turning to face empty space, she wiped her face of errant tears, took in a lung full of air and bid farewell with a waving hoof. The nonsense act bewildered her friends even more so, and they sighed and facehoofed altogether.

“No problem, Blanky! You’re welcome! And thanks for reading, everypony! See you next chapter!”

Author's Note

AN[170815]
*Sooooooo... I accidentally wrote 10k more words... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

*I didn't plan for it to be so long, honest. But it just seemed right for the pacing, and I was really having fun writing. Also my BP went up twice. One on Thursday, the day I originally wanted to update, and again on Sunday. I need to watch myself.

*Anywho, there are likely A LOT of mistakes and slip ups in the editing, like some things needed italicization and stuff. I will get back to them in time. Also I might take a break for my health...and the cover art. That bit is long over due, and my story needs a face.

*On a last note, I know you guys have been silent for the most part, but I'm really happy about the 80% readership upkeep in the last chapter. It was a real confidence booster in the absence of actual feedback, and I hope more people drop by to read. Thanks again, and I hope you all enjoyed this one. :twistnerd:

Chapter 6 - Just Desserts

"You hear me!? I hope you choke on all you've pinched off me, that'll be your just deserts!" The angry voice bellowed as I made a run for it.

Ahead of me spanned a barren expanse far and wide. Scraggly tufts of grass gave no care as I zipped them by in their listless crumple out from the craggy arid ground, while emaciated trees that dotted the place ever scarcely with barely a leaf on their twig branches stood content as indifferent witnesses to my misdeeds. Behind me, the cantankerous silhouette of a farmer still raged with a cane waved threateningly in the air, having managed to reach that far from his shanty and meager lot of land on rickety bones. His harvest had been pathetic as a result of the prolonged famine, but a bit of skulking proved his stores were well-stocked and rigidly rationed. It was a veritable oasis in the growing graylands that was becoming of Garriene. And often in such times, desperate people would hoard resources for fear of their lives.

Now a good leech would know to take only enough that the theft wouldn't be noticed in the first place, in case for future pickings. But seeing as I had been careless to lose track of the old farmer's comings and goings, I would have to scratch this place off the prospects map for a while. I would be grilled for this blunder when I’d get back, for sure. But first I actually had to get back.

The way was sparse and desolate with a strange heat lingering in the air, which was surprising since the sky bore no glaring sun to bear down on me. Ever was it like this as I had known it, but nothing had kept me from wondering. Nonetheless desert air did its best to sap me of every wetness it could. Even my blood started to feel dry. The one thing that kept me going was a small shrub known as muscmaloi that grew in endemic clumps across these plains. Its bitter bulbs held pockets of equally bitter juice within, and to scarf the plant bile down all in one go was a sure-fire way to knock oneself out, or at the very least be thrown for a disorienting loop. Our own hardy Petra made good example of that. One thing we had to credit her for though was having the guts to be a guinea pig. Her courageous brevity had proven that taking small sips of its juices at a time was enough to get by in this desert. Albeit the taste was still a bitter pill in and of itself. Nothing one could ever get used to.

I had been walking for a little over a few hours now, skirting the edge of the desert with a few dried-up bulbs clutched in hand. My stride went shaky and vision turned hazy from the muscmaloi juice for dizziness held a firm grasp me as would stupor treat a heavy drunk.

"Oh...umm, beg your pardon...sir. I didn't see you there," I apologized to the disgruntled seeq whom I had walked into. Then again, squinting my eyes clarified the seeq to actually be a craggy boulder. "Ugh, gods. I'm in no condition to walk..."

In a couple more hours of walking, my steps had stabilized somewhat after having left the desert and ran out of bulbs to peruse. But that made me all the more aware of how tired and thirsty I was. My joints creaked and throat retched for a moment's respite, but I couldn't stop until I'd arrive. And there it was, an unmistakable sight drew near. A marker I could never confuse deep in this forest. It was a cover of leaves that draped the side of a very large old tree. By now I could barely stand as I made my way into the hollow behind the cover and down the set of gnarled root steps. But at that point I could not hold myself up any longer. Shortly after touching down to the bottom, I collapsed past a blind corner in the wooded grotto.

There I dreamt of a certain town.

It was a pleasant place draped in pastel light. Loving friends bid me 'hello' at every turn and I lived with cake quite figuratively and literally. Though the sights seemed shorter than usual, they were vivid unlike the gray doldrum days I have grown accustomed to. The taste of food was everything I could imagine and beyond. Its people—while mostly ponies—were wide-eyed and wide-grinned. They were alive and lived in a paradise...

It was paradise.

A short-lived paradise, however. The briefest of reveries for the briefest of naps, and the moment I woke, I had wished sleep took me back into its embrace. With no less than four bulbs wrung dry in my hands, I could have sworn I would have been out for longer. A wetness that pooled at my feet suggested that nap I just had might have not been so brief after all.

“Damnit…how long has it been?” The joints in my limbs creaked and groaned as I got up with the weight of my haul sliding off my back and plopping on the ground. The splash it made rang distress through my ears, and my hands quickly tugged at the sling to keep my haul from soiling further in the mud. Stupid me, I left the entrance open. And not only did I track mud in for that, the goods had fallen into the mud too. After all I had stolen from a good and honest farmer, and I didn’t want this harvest to go to waste.

After patting off what mud clung to the bag before it could seep through, I placed pilfered crop on a nearby shelf made of roots away from the muddy ground and rain. Then I rummaged through my person till my hands found hold of a trinket. A small flat card made of chipped metal. With the trinket retrieved, I retraced my steps out the grotto and out into the open, this time making sure to close the cover.

The old hollowed tree I crawled out from was nearly devoid of green leaves like the sparse emaciated trees from before. Its branches seemed like begging arms reaching out to the sky so that it might have its thirst quenched by generous showers. The forest around me fared no better. Collectively, the exhausted hinterland was as though an oversized prickly bush of barbs and spines that grabbed and pulled so others may be drawn in to join their parched suffering and misery. But it didn’t matter if the rains did come anyway. The soil was tired and jejune, nearly sandy save for the packed loam a few feet down that held steadily draining moisture and nutrients. The forest would die anyway. It would become a jagd in time. Just as Purvama did.

Right then, my tummy grumbled in askance for my neglect. That was enough sight-seeing now. I had seen this place well-enough for over a month. My gaze drifted to a certain direction, as directed by my tummy.

The brush was relatively the same whatever step or direction I chose to take, tousling a small cloud of dirt up not beyond my ankles for every footfall. Twig or dried leaf crunched underfoot, but instead of healthy crackles that told of the life they derived from the trees they had broken off from, they let out tired sighs that more resembled a burned thing that crumbled into ash. These were the usual sights and sounds of this nameless forest, apart from which was nothing of interest. Not even a cony for game or a bird to watch. Yet there was one particular place I needed to see. The one place of interest here.

Past a ditch and a few more minutes of walking, I spied a couple of feral pones grazing on a crummy bush. Damn pest, they shouldn’t be here. Kicking up a mess of dirt and leaves, I gave them a startle with a mad wailing dash whilst flailing my arms. Their ears swiveled towards the ruckus I was making, and with panicked hooves, they galloped off. In the wake of the dust cloud they kicked up, I shook the dirt off myself and huffed a breath in satisfaction. The sight of them disgusted me. Knotted manes and matted coats where lice thrived, accreted teeth crowning a muzzle that harbored a foul stench, ever present veins webbing their eyes red, cracked hooves worn rough in a life spent constantly on the move, and all virtually dumb as rock, ignorant of a single civilized word… But I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. After all, I was the same as them in a fashion.

Past a turn and another ditch by the crummy bush was the object of my interest. And boy, was it a sight.

It was a lush patch of ground fit to be the small courtyard of a well-off merchant or a busy-body noble, a small verdant oasis that would be envied even in Verdandiel. A garden paradise of our own tucked behind a mirage. A wide circle bench I had fashioned with my very hands crowned the lot in the middle, which I thought was a very nice touch, allowing those seated to appreciate our efforts. Really, the sight would be a small wonder to anyone who saw it in these gray times and days. But we had kept it all well away from any would-be trespassers.

My eyes were drawn to the carpet of lush grass that abruptly stopped at the edge of the lot. I hovered my hand over the perimeter it drew and felt its magick as though it were a greeting for coming back home, in the absence of the others.

The patch had been safeguarded by a wandering hume geomancer we had commissioned—and considering how everyone in these parts hated humes, it was a miracle he had ever taken the job in the first place! The singular ward he spanned around the perimeter dictated clearly where the grass started and ended. The ward was a trisection of three simple spells repurposed for our clandestine agricultural intents. Namely, an elementary illusion, a barrier spell and a weak yet benign siphon spell. Through the three fold interaction of these simple spells all under one hybrid sigil, it had ensured two key conditions. Anything that grew here would never reach past a certain height, and their colors and smells were conveniently masked by a mirage from the gaze of far-off wandering eyes and the nostrils of nearby concerned noses. Though, it never seemed to be a problem anyway, considering our choice of plants. They were never the smelly sort, nor were they very tall. In short, our garden was well-hidden.

The other condition it ensured to meet was the very reason the grass was so green. Even the simple act of feeling the cool and smooth blades of grass under my hands as I waved it over them was refreshing. The nutrients that nourished them were funneled from magicks of other far off plots in nearby towns as well as the leylines that fed into flourishing city of Garriene in discrete and efficient cycles. Such cycles meant no one would notice us, and we wanted it kept that way for as long as possible. They all had lots to spare anyway! What were the chance of them noticing small slivers we were leeching?

As I walked in, my gaze swept over the entire lot and the things that grew vibrant and lively in its spacious confines... It almost looked as vivid and pastel as the dream town...

Regardless of daydreams and the state of the world, so long as with had this garden, our survival was guaranteed here. Here in this small plot of land where we grew all sorts of plants in a neat and organized array.

The hardy trinity was present here. Beans, onions, and taters taking majority of the lot with some newfound roots and tubers on the side for experimentation. They could grow even in grounds that were halfway dried up, but often bore little yields with gaunt appearances and unappealing blemishes. But with water aplenty and magick feeding in from outside, they formed bulges beneath the ground and came out tasty and large. And what's more was that in a special quadrant, there were things that would be scarcely found in today’s dreary market yet still hotly demanded. Things like plump aubergines, cool tea leaves, juicy tomatoes and a low growing vine of zesty peppercorn. The tea leaves were something I had grown particularly fond of, and I had Pleajune to thank for that.

But in the center of the wide circle bench I had placed here for our comfort was another small source of pride of mine. Taking a seat on the bench, I skootched my legs over and looked inward, taking stock of the assorted clump of alba vines and cang shoots tangled in a crisscross mess in the middle of the bench. The others had been skeptical and long dismissed them as weeds at first glance. Yet after a little trial and error, their tummies had grown distended and filled with the tasty stems softened broth of its stew. Further proof of their satisfaction had manifested as off-smelling air passing out through both ends! Not only that, but I had found other uses for the vines and shoots, quickly drying and fashioning them into weaves for baskets, hats and even fire tinder for the leavings too small to make use of. In a few weeks I very well could be able to craft some rope from them, though they currently proved a tad too brittle when dried for the purpose for now.

In any case, we could possibly become self-sufficient in the future, and drop thievery and unsavory trades altogether! Such a future made me shudder with joy. A step closer to the town from my dreams!

The fresh memory of their faces for my contribution came to mind—faces scrunched and loath to admit amazement as they simply nodded their heads in passing recognition. The thought wrapped in haughty nostalgia loosed a chuckle from me as I savored a freshly plucked stem of alba. For now the quick snack abated the rumblings in my belly. I had been the last pink doll to ever crawl out from that well, but they just wouldn't hand it to me even when I had proven I was right. All for some arbitrary sense of seniority. I savored that smug smile that had cracked my lips wide well. And the ghost of that smile that came with the reminiscence was just as smug.

But this was not what I was here to see either. I sighed as I spotted the object of my visit to the garden, filling to the brim.

The reservoir tanks numbered seven in total and were arranged in a neat row next to a line of trees that skirted the edge of the geomanced ward. And they were all overflowing, spilling precious water. The rains had been enough for the gardens. The water in those tanks should have been transferred to our stores below, bucket for sodding bucket. And we had yet to find clean enough pipes in these forsaken graylands to channel it straight to our hidey hole. Seven one thousand litre tanks were barely enough to support all thirteen of us over a week. It was my assigned chore once I'd get back should the others still be away, a vital chore no less. I could already hear their yells and blames howling in my ear. They would grill me for this, I was certain.

It was then I took notice of a small warmth in my pocket, for which my hairs stood on end. It reminded me the other thing I needed to check, and my mind stood in attention. Bringing the small metal card up just above my eyed, I placed it in direct view of the graylight.

It was a salvaged sheet of magisteel, a magicite alloy capable of holding small charges of light as energy. But then one day it had been as if the very ore itself lost all will and confidence in its existence, gradually losing their ability to reliably hold a charge. In time, the amazing technology of that era slowly became a thing of the past, and the once glorious airships that yet piled the skies had all come to rust and eternally rest in the wastes, never to roar to life and fly again. At least that was what the old crochety mog had told us. As melancholy as it had been to all tinkering mogfolk like him, we had bore no yearning, for we were not of that Age. And then as luck would have it, Pyria had found some use may yet be derived of the faulty magisteel. That they could still be used to the gauge the passing of the day, a trade secret she had pried from the drunken lips of an off-guard time mages. In a country where the time of doldrum days were both scarce and hard kept by the masses themselves, such ingeniously crude device was especially handy for those who could not afford time-watching services and even measured candles. That doubly applied to dolls like us, those who were not only considered outcasts but also a commodity to be traded.

The graylight fell upon the card and seeped through as a mildly dimmed spotlight before slowly turning opaque. On the scale Pyria had assessed from zero to nine, the brightness was between six and seven… My heart sank and turned heavy as lead when I remembered that every number away from zero measured roughly three hours... I was out of it for nearly a day! This was not good, not good at all. At least the garden was fine, but I had to get back to the hideout quickly and secure—

I had spoken too late. The leafy curtain in front of the grotto had been torn down, laying as a defeated banner of a besieged castle on the muddy ground as the showers abated.

I was not alone anymore.

...

...

Deep breath.

...

“Tempered mettle, Parnella. Just as Piper told you,” I assured myself in a whisper while breaking off a sturdy branch of a nearby tree. “The others are away on a job, but this is all within your control… Yensa and baknamy scouts oft wander these parts, and that can't be helped at all! They just can’t resist all those tasty vegies we’ve safely locked. Ahaha!" A hysterical chuckle escaped me as I braced myself in the face of the situation that had suddenly spiraled out of control.

Leading with a step over the fallen cover of leaves, I stared down into the depths of the grotto expecting the worse.

Even from here I could already hear the intruders causing a ruckus as they rummaged through our things. With as gentle a touch as possible, I landed my foot on the first step down the rooted stairs, which still caused a slight creak anyway. The sound made me cringe. The ruckus below relented at my meager disturbance, petering out as off-chorded shushes sounded off in the now wary underground. A tension settled and turned the air cloying. As then another weight caught in my throat, I gulped it down to join the first one. The anxieties it bore made my feet fat in treading down the stairs, and my arms shaky even with the weighty bat of a branch in hand. What part of this was any good in the first place!?

“I should just run, I should definitely run away now,” I mouthed voiceless, losing half my spirits at this point.

They knew I was here now, and even isolated fringe races like the fidgety baknamy and wary yensa would readily make contact with others for the chance to trade a single doll off for oodles of goods . They would chase me till I walked my feet off and died of exhaustion. But the others had counted on me! I had been tasked to keep the hideout safe once I got back, and what had I done? Fallen asleep at the door and let these intruders waltz right in! My fears were cast aside by a stronger feeling of shame that I had ever considered running away without doing what I could. At the very least I had to get scope of the intruders. If I could get a count of heads, I could meet up with Piper at the Sphrom outpost and tell her the bad news. Said outpost wasn’t too far off, only a couple of hours at most by foot. After that, it was either regroup and strike back or scrounge about for another sanctuary in this slowly dimming world. Such was our dogged lot in life.

But I wouldn’t let it go just like that.

Anxieties were spurned with each creaking step down the stairs, for in the face of all our hard work being taken from us, a trembling trepidation took root with in me. We had carved out this place by tooth and nail, on our blood, sweat and tears… Those intruders at the bottom of the stairs, scavengers in our hideout…as completely alien their faces seemed to me, their lot was certainly cut from the same ragged cloth as ours. Even as I was not two steps away from touching down to the muddy bottom of the grotto, I couldn’t help but think how equally or even more so desperate these fringe dwellers were.

But that didn’t change anything. They were them and I was me. Even if it meant carving a path straight through them, I had cast my lot with Piper and the others. I couldn't imagine where I would be without them. I'd die before I let them down.

Deep breath... Deep breath.

…

All I needed to do was take one peek past the blind corner and see what I could make of the place and whoever was raiding it. Just one cursory peek and I was out of—

A strong thrust of a hand preempted my head just as I peeked into the dark corridor. Mind taken in a daze, my vision nearly blacked out on me. A bundle of arms rushed out the darkness and grabbed me in my discombobulated state. They were quick to gag my mouth and bind my arms and legs. Apart from dragging down my legs as they pulled me into now unfriendly territory, I was now completely helpless.

Had been minutes or hours now? The place was still dark but that was no surprise since yensa were dark dwellers who churned through sand, and the crafty cutthroat baknamy knew to fashion night lenses from glass-like yensa eyes. It couldn’t have been more than a day. The bruise on my head still throbbed fresh with pain. Whatever the case, I could hear them whispering, their skittering steps surrounding me on every side. They snickered and sneered with hisses, because they knew my worth in the market. There was no escape.

“Go ahead…” I whispered in defeat. “Chop me up and proffer my entrails to the highest bidder.”

They quivered and buzzed even more around me, eager to do just that. It was the most obvious thing to do... Or they could fork me over through wholesale at ten times the price. The ruckus their bickering caused turned nearly indiscernible from magickal static, but then a current of air rushed out from the spot before me. Their leader huffed, demanding silence and undivided attention. I could feel its crabby eyes regarding me coldly.

“You won’t get anything from me!” I defiantly yelled as the leader drew near. With hardened claw hands, it yanked at my hair, pulling me closer. The yensa leader held a blade sharpened on sandstone up to my throat, and with a nick at my skin, I could feel the drop of blood well, readily running down its edge.

“I won’t rat out the others! They are my friends."

Tears began to swell from my eyes, and I felt them run down my face as their sniggering and buzzing stopped.

"My family!”

This was the end for me… With trembling heart, I gave in and awaited the rest of the edge.

…

…

…

“Um…Piper?”

…

“What is it, Pearl?”

…

“Don’t you think we’ve taken this too far?”

…

…

What the hell?

The edge of the blade relented and was drawn away. A snap flicked off at the throw of a switch and the lights of our grotto flickered to life. The bright glare caught me unawares, causing me to blink repeatedly. As my vision settled and adjusted, my eyes swept over the ring of cloaked dolls who surrounded me. Behind the yensa masks they had freshly looted, all of them sported slightly different pink manes of varying length and style while some bore some scars or identifying marks on their faces. Their lips cracked in smirks, but apart from Priscilla to my right, Palomina beside her and Pearl who stood beside Piper in front of me, it seemed everyone else took enjoyment in seeing me squirm.

…

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!!?”

Their sneers evolved into chuckles as I loosed all the wind from my lungs. Why was this funny!?

“I see you’ve kept to the mantra, but not your orders, Parnella. It’s punishment, as plain as your eyes see,” Piper chimed in with a deadpan line on her face. She hadn’t even let a peep out when the others laughed, and their sniggering ceased when our leader continued speaking. “Not only did you leave the cover open and collapse right at the front door on your watch, you also neglected to transfer our reserve water from the tanks above to the stores below. What's more is that all you have to show from that old farm is this paltry sack. A pathetic return, love. Simply pathetic,” Piper tsked while holding up the bag that I had brought back.

Her delivery was a stern and cold knife that cut clean through my anger. The scrunch in my brow eased and teeth ceased to grit and gnash. My mistakes were laid bare on the table, mistakes that could have very well lead to the death of us all.

“At the very least, that sorry look on your face tells me the lesson’s been etched well and good into your thick skull. Honest-to-goodness Urutan Yensa would have done worse and skinned you alive at this point. Consider yourself lucky.” I barely nodded in acceptance of my mistakes. There was no denying my carelessness.

In a moment, Piper drew a long and tired sigh. “Well, that’s that, loves. I’ll be having a bath. All this grit and sand will need a thorough scrubbing to get off my coat.” She sheathed the blade and turned, tossing the weapon, her coat and the mask scrounged from a yensa corse onto her bed before heading for the washroom… Wait a second…

“B-but!” At my words, she cast a sharp gaze upon me, causing everyone to shrink. “I hadn’t transferred any waters to the reserves. There should only be enough water left for a couple of days!”

Piper laughed as she continued walking to the washroom, waving off to the others.

They all joined in her merriment in a round of chuckles while unequipping gear as Pearl drew near and covered the bleeding nick on my neck, explaining all the while. “We apologize for the charade, Parnella. The afternoon had passed well enough by the time we returned. You were just there all this time, and Piper simply insisted we all do this.”

Unbelievable. "What?"

"You were out like a light!" Palomina chimed in with a smirk and pat to my back before cutting my bonds loose. The gesture was lost to the shock that held a firm grasp on me. "You didn't even budge the whole time we walked over you and toiled away to get the pipes running right and proper. Which meant those sodding buckets were none for your worries at all!"

And then Priscilla peeked meekly into our huddle. "The whole chore itself was a load of clothes, don't you think? Walking back and forth a quarter of a mile to empty those all tanks with just buckets by yourself, you wouldn't have finished in time for the morning rains."

"Piper did go a bit too far, didn't she, girls?" Pearl continued while dressing my cut. The other two nodded in agreement. "But she only ever has our best interests at heart. You know this, don't you, Parnella?"

While Piper’s stern hand hadn’t knocked me out earlier, this revelation ensured that I did. My world swirled at dizzying speeds as I collapse on the floor a sobbing mess.

"Oh, the poor dear,” Priscilla exclaimed with alarm. The last faces I saw before my vision gave out were that of the three dolls who tended to me.

Damn them… Damn them all.

A wheezing…cloying cold pervaded.

...

My voiced groaned… “Oooooohh.”

...

I had come to in darkness. It nibbled and gnawed at my flesh, my very being.

“Aaahh, stop…please!”

It was incessant and unending, so painful, so heavy…so oppressive…

And then a thought came to mind. Was there anything wrong? Wasn’t this the order of things, to rest in the coming darkness and return to its depths at mortal coil’s end? Was it really all that or did I simply not want to be here… and feel all of this?

An opening of light cut through the darkness, a creaking sound preceding as its radiance unfurled. With its brightness and warmth, my groggy senses were roused from the lull of darkness and turned fearfully sober. There were haunting shadows all around, the sight of them filling my gaze wherever I looked. Hope and despair entwined as the coldness in my breast began feeling all too alien. My lips parted against mind and body in utterance.

“No…not yet!”

...

This voice...it wasn't mine, yet I had heard it somewhere before.

With seared and crackling limbs I crawled out from the cloying muck I found myself in. I was aware enough to realize I did not want to be here anymore…but it all felt so distant and far away. Fingers gaunt as bone clawed into the mire as if they’ve never felt a thing to grasp upon in ages, and a dormant ache flared with such intensity in my legs past the cold as they geared and churned along the desperate locomotions of a crawl. Every part of my body cried in agony and every fiber of my soul begged for respite the light offered…and yet, I was numb. Not only to the darkness, but to my own plight as well.

Beyond will and intent, my body moved and my voice haggardly droned on, repeating those words over and over. “Not yet…not yet…not yet!” There was nothing I could do but watch as it all coldly unfolded without me. Which begged the question…

Was I truly awake…or was this another dream?

Whatever the case, it had seemed to take forever crawling out of the darkness, toward the door of light that promised respite. The distance closed inch for excruciating inch, and the pain of it all only seemed to amplify as my eyes adjusted and the glare of the light receded. Gone was its radiance as I crawled pathetically into the confines of an unoccupied room. The meager detail of its grey stone walls and the pleasant dresser and bed affair that presented itself were lost to my addled senses. Across the half-open window that let a golden light in to modestly swathed half of the space, a large chunk of green crystal stood in the shadows by the door.

“Falsehood,” the voice groaned as I past the bed to continue my crawl. I was headed for the crystal, whose base glistened in what little rays of light meekly caressed the foot of its mass.

“Yet again…another falsehood...”

Once more the ghost of misplaced familiarity gnawed at the back of my mind. I had definitely heard this voice from somewhere before, and not too long ago at that.

The closer I drew to the crystal, the more I could make out the reflection of a face over the murky shadow became evident in its core...it was that person from that night... I as seeing what she saw!

Her face was slightly longer yet early skeletal and gnawed black in splotches dotting her face, likely for the time spent in that...that unspeakable void. She was the spitting image of Mergo, and were it not for the horns on her head, the angry red irises of her eyes and the darkened pallor of her skin, I would have mistaken her for a long lost sister. Either that or her skin had been dulled by the murky crystal's core, which contrasted the beautiful luster of its outer facets into with a dense cloud of impurities. No, wait...not a cloud. The more I looked, then more I could see the crystal wasn't just dark or murky. There was a figure floating in it. Someone was trapped inside!

Having crawled up to crystal, my arms and legs moved to pull at the crystal and prop my body up against it. Her bony hands grasped for purchase on the crystal's facets, a trembling force telling of a desire to crush the rock into a pulp where it stood. “How could you do this to me…how dare you lie to me again…Midlight!”

There it was, that off-sounding nickname Mergo made of our family name. And the mention of the name, my mind’s eye drew wide and lidless, keen to paying attention.

“You did it again!... Gone and split yourself some…other face, have you? And while my back was turned!”

Her gaunt yet ghastly clawed hands crumpled over the crystal in her desire to be rid of it as her legs shakily kept up stance. I could feel her frustration. The simple act was exhaustive beyond belief. Even as she forced us to stand to full height, our back couldn’t muster a steady stance and so slumped to a wizened and tired arc, bringing us down to eye level of the one suspended in the cry.

"Tell me, Midlight... Is this one another face...you've invented? Another ruse as Mergo runs away...or some beguiled by-stander you've dragged into our mess?" This was definitely the person that had come to collect Mergo that night. But who was she exactly? Who was she to Mergo, and who was this Midlight?

Past the green discoloration, I could make out the figure frozen in the crystal. She bore a pastel purple coat, a pair of auburn eyes resting behind heavy lids, and a horn sticking out from her head and breaking through her dark indigo hair. There as still and cold as the emerald that suspended her, my body stood lull and listless. My face was serene and unmoving in the stasis, suffering neither trouble of the mind nor disturbance of immediate angry growling.

I was here yet I was also there...

It was all so confusing…yet wasn't. Red eyes over yellow irises reflected on the green surface as my mind’s eye regarded my own resting visage. My own self was tangibly present and familiar yet distant and foreign at the same time.

For a brief moment, I saw it...it all made sense...

It was perfect.

When our throat turned coarse and wet when something wet ran down it chillingly, causing our body to shudder. I didn’t think it should be doing that. Blood stayed inside the body, yet on I spoke.

“I don’t care…how many faces you make! Even to the end of time, even after the darkness swallows everything, I’ll hunt you down…I'll rout you out from whatever hole you’ve stuck yourself in! And when I do—“

The doorknob clattered as it turned, and the door creakily swung open.

A tall elegant figure stood in the darkened hallway, away from golden afternoon light. Draped in gracefully designed robes, her emerald eyes gleamed in a predatory gaze.

“You…”

“Oh… Mewt, there you are. What auspicious timing, we were just looking for you,” she said with a condescending smile. As she adjusted the crown that shone dully on her head, all doors and windows shut to a close with bang as she entered. A low chuckle escaped her as she approached. “There is a matter that direly requires your presence.”

“Insufferable tyrant—!“

With a wave of her hand, a force beyond sight launched us into the wall, causing a crack to run across it at our impact. Clattering down as would a bag of bones, we had no strength with which to put up resistance. Barely craning our head up in spite of the pain, the graceful stranger stepped closer when she was certain I would not be getting up.

“Fret not, fret not. I've no curiosities left for your Madmoon heritage and heresy. Still, we mustn’t dilly...” With open arms she greeted us, a sinister light pouring forth from her hands. The light skittered and dance in ethereal echoes till they met in an arc and connected eagerly, forming a luminescent length of chain. “Or dally. As you always say, haste is key.”

Securing the chain around our neck, it burned and seared our flesh, yet my host had even not the strength to muster a scream. Following a quick glance to see it was on good and tight, she turned and pulled on the chain, dragging us across the floor.

“What say you, dearest Mewt,” he managed past maniacal laughter.

“How does butterfly hunting tickle your fancy?”

The fiasco had passed. When I woke the gray day was in the middle of ceding to the coming of its equally gray sibling night.

Climbing my way up the branches of the big old hollowed tree, a pleasant scent wafted faintly from my coat. An odd detail to take note of, seeing as I had come straight from bed. The others must have given me a wash in the meantime. I should thank them for that, but then again after what they just put me through, maybe not.

Refreshed, I sat a hard yet comfy seat on hard grizzled branch. Its bow stuck out from halfway up the old tree at a high enough elevation to afford me a view just above the forest canopy. As the indecisive hue that barely resembled twilight evolved, I regarded nothing but the gray murk in the sky, secretive and reserved as always of the stars or lack thereof that hung behind it, and the audacious glowing patch in the horizon that gaudily demanded my attention...well, at least that was what I felt. The twilight wasn't supposed to be this bland, this lifeless. Dreamy sunrises and sunsets had told me so. On the other hand, I didn't have much to say of the strange glaring lights that shot out from the far-off city of Garriene, even after a fortnight of seeing it so well. Aside from what rumors already said of it, that is.

Word had spread that they had found an entirely new source of magick, or that they've struck gold in some risky expeditions to the old jagds or a previously undiscovered necrohol. Whatever had been the case, the resplendent light that gushed from the city and bled into the gray night sky told of the festivities that went on without end and the appalling indulgences they partook off as if the gray days were counting to an end. Like everyone else who cast a wistful or lazy gaze on the distant golden speck in the horizon, I too was curious of Garriene's sights and sounds. The others were just as curious. The odd one out this time seemed to be Piper. She had only ever looked to the city to use it as a point of reference, a north star in the absence of an actual north star in the empty canvas in the sky. Whatever a north star was. Regardless we all had expressed some desire to come upon the city. Even just to see it at a distance, to sate out curiosities. But she would always argue against the notion.

The creaking of bark and wood caught my ear, and I turned to see Piper and Pearl coming up to join me. The former contented to leaning against the trunk of the tree, indifferently munching on a sprig of alba, while the later scooted a seat beside me, her attention rapt on my disposition.

"Ummm, Parnella?" Pearl began, laying hand on my shoulder. I turned away, not wanting to catch a glimpse of neither of them.

"Please, Parnella. Look at me in the eye at least. I can't apologize properly otherwise."

Pearl was the sweetest and most sincere of us dolls. It would be no fleeting sentiment on my part to say she kept heart for all of us. As Piper is all too aware, weathering the hardships of the trying doldrums could turn the most sympathizing souls numb. Spying a glance at our leader, she held her gaze over me with a calculating and scrutinizing eye. It was typical of her, to never switch off.

"I'm sorry for what happened," Piper offered astutely, her words nearly passing in one ear and out the other. "But it had to be done. Blunders should never be let go on the passivity of thought, lest the lessons they bear be lost to the wayside of thought itself."

Seeing the smile and encouraging looks I got from Pearl, it was as refreshing as a ritzy scented bath to hear Piper apologize for once. Ever rarely did she apologize to any of us.

Hmm, at least she was trying. "Who told you that?"

"Oh, just some words of wisdom from gem cobbler after a stint. Gave me a peculiar gem for my troubles, he did." She returned with a genuine smile. I couldn't say Piper didn't apologize, and at least I could appreciate that.

"Then all that grief you gave me, I couldn't possibly manage all seven tanks by myself before the morning showers, could I?"

Piper stepped off from her lean on the tree trunk and raised her arms to stretch out. "Of course not, love! The point was to see if you would follow orders." After speaking that, she came close and joined Pearl and I on comfy seat on the branch of the tree. "And seeing as you had passed out at the doorstep and not lifting a finger, I'd have had you thrown out, were it not for your meager thievings and help in the garden.

Pearl aptly facepalmed for Piper's reply. "Oh, dear."

"You cheeky..." I shook my head and chuckled at her stubbornness. Piper was never one for sappy moments.

"What you meant to say was, 'I sincerely apologize for dragging your through the mud like that, and I hope you'll find it in your heart forgive me for the grueling punishment.' Am I right, Piper?" Priscilla theatrically read off with an artsy hand in the air. Looking down, we saw her, Palomina and everyone else looking up from the base of the hollowed tree, having come from picking dinner at the garden in all likelihood. It seemed they had eavesdropped on Piper as she spoke her bit. Seeing them all here like this--the less time we spent doing unsavory deeds just to get by, the more it seemed that dream wasn't too far away anymore.

With a wave of her hand, Piper dismissed the sniggering lot.

"Hey, whatever works, you sorry lot. Now get your asses inside and get on with dinner! I'll be with you all shortly."

The others headed down the steps, their minds and voices keen to murmurs and idle banter as much as their stomachs were to the thought of a hearty meal. When they had all headed inside, the three of us were left gazing at the gray sky. We sat there content in feeling the whatever wandering breeze came our way. And when a particularly bright spotlight flashed an errant ray from the golden city of Garriene and caught our attention, Piper broke the silence.

"I know what you're thinking, Parnella," she said in an all-knowing manner.

"Oh, really now? If you're thinking that it's about time you all treated me with respect regardless of my 'age' then yes, you know what I'm thinking."

She stood up, not heeding the sass I tossed her way. "That it is about time we gave up this scavenger's way of life. Find a way that is honest and decent."

My ears shot up straight at the exact words she said and the idea it conveyed. I looked back to Pearl to make sure I wasn't just hearing this all in my head, and sure enough she was just as rapt as I was.

"It's always been a dream of mine since coming to this sad gray world," she admitted to the both of us as she twiddled her thumbs. I had never heard Piper speak so honestly to anyone before, much less myself. And the look Pearl had about herself told me moments like these were far and few between. "We all have them sometimes. The others speak of it in whispers, but they just don't show it. Dreams of a pleasant place."

I wasn't surprised, that the others, Piper especially, would want for a life better than this. Anyone in our scrounging predicament would want so as well. But to share a dream for a future lived in peace...it felt rallying and unifying. That we were destined to find and raise each other up together.

"To live in kindness, beget similar warm sentiments without fear of ill intent and scheming." Her face crumpled into glower as her tone turned from cheery and hopeful to bitter and hard. "But sadly...we cannot. Dolls like us are nothing but debris to the masses. Silver water given shape and form yet still so easily malleable...and dispensable. Such is the cruel reality we were thrown into. We can only live by the hand we've been dealt."

It was the thought that I had always known...but never wanted to truly admit. A truth none of us could ever completely accept. It was why we survived all this time. It was why we were sitting here at all.

"But maybe someday, things will change."

Standing up, Piper gazed upon the gleaming city of Garriene as Pearl and I regarded her. "Perhaps if we simply go off to meet it, we wouldn't have to wait for that someday to come."

Together the three of us looked on over to the golden city in the distance, not for the hearsay that floated about over idle prattle, but for the future it foreshadowed. A bright future that only awaited claiming. It seemed so far off in the horizon...yet already I could feel it in my grasp.

"That would be very nice," I replied, caressing the golden possibility in my hand.

We stared at Garriene for a little bit longer, indulging in daydreams silenty. Then we shared our daydreams on our way to dinner, eager to liken the details. The veggies cooked up were delicious and filling. The sleep that followed was restful and lacked of nightmare.

Our home was smack dab in the middle of nowhere, and our way of life was a veritable purgatory. But all in all--even after the lynching they put me through, it was a good day.

My vision flickered...swimming about in a palette of dull and drab colors.

My mind was heady and shaken. The reason for which I guessed had been the harrowing ride that took me for a tumble down the mountain side.

"Ooooh...my everything..."

Though I wasn't awake for any of the in-between, I was thankful for the nostalgic reverie of a dear memory. For which a tender sigh escaped me.

Not that I deluded myself of recent events, no. Their truths hitched on sobering brisk air, keen on keeping me awake and away from rejoining my blissful dreams. Yet their reminders hadn't made my past any less true. Her words then still held great sway in my heart, a yearning for the idyllic life of peace surrounded by friendly faces. We all had shared that dream in the beginning, but time changed people. I don't know what changed her, but I would sort things out with Piper in time. Why did she betray me? What happened to the others? And where did her determined and focused gaze go? Thoughts turned to the old myths earnestly recounted by missionaries, whose tales set this undeniable cornerstone in our want.

Landscape and riches of Equestria were tantalizing and the stuff of legends, after all. Yet the great cataclysm of Yore had wiped out all the settlers the moment they set foot on the land of temptations, lured by promises of paradise. It was the parable pharist missionaries favored and often lead into over the course of their sermons, a cautionary tale telling of the droves of infidel Pones who had foolishly taken heed to the words of the hateful Humes. Briefly did my thoughts drift over to my wriggling bound hands, my feet that resembled the ghost of a hoof, and the upright form of my body. Ironic that the term so decidedly coined for this convenient form--a necessary form following the great cataclysm and the waning of magick--was the derived word, 'humanoid.'

In any case, I was never an ardent believer of Pharism. Their tenets would do me no good now.

With that tangent concluded, various sensations began to register more vividly, and I found myself lucid in the waking world. As previously noted, my arms and legs were in a bound state once more. A discomforting inconvenience at best. What surprised me more were the sights and the sounds that surrounded me.

Having arrived in a new world that seem to come out of nowhere, I was perplexed to find myself having been chucked in a fairly new wooden cage. A mellow light shone from a lamp that hung across the room, basking everything in the room in its soft though inadequate glow. The room I found myself in seemed to be a supply tent stocked with crates, barrels and all manner of goods. All of which had been propped over honest-to-goodness healthy ground, the thing that caught my eye the most. And none of the drained ashen dirt that littered the Aerie, mind you.

I almost couldn't believe my eyes. Were the lighting of the place any brighter I would have stared at every detail that stuck in and out from the ground, every pebble, every root, every drop of dew, every blade of grass and whatever brave bug dared to skitter out in front of me. But the lamplight waned dimly for a lack of oil. And with my hands as they were, I had to settle for just the smell. It was all so wholesome and lovely just like that little garden patch we used to have. Oh I would dream of the days when I had popped by at leisure and sampled a bite from every plot for a midday snack, and the few times I had of napped the day away on that bench were a great luxury. Ah, those had been the days.

My stomach grumbled with my wistful longing for happier yesterdays. At the very least I wished that the grass was tall enough for me to graze off of--as desperate as I was--or that I could free a hand to at least rub my empty belly in consolation. Alas, neither were the case. Having not eaten in over a day, pangs of hunger were already upon me. Forget about picking the locks on the cage even if I could wriggle free of my ropes. I didn't even have my tools. Hungry and helpless, the only solace I had was a small tear in a seam of the tent that opened right by an odd sack they had left with me in the cage. Crawling up on my sides, I scurried over to the tear in the tent, not minding the sack at all.

A gentle cold light bled in from the outside. Just seeing the band of light cut a color other than gray across the yellow lamp light of the interior was enough to catch my eye. Peeking through the tear to the outside, I was beside myself for the gentle and unimposing hue it imparted over all it touched. Mind you, what I could see was mostly just another tent and some more crates across the way, covering most of my view. Oh how I wished I could reach out past the wooden bars and rend the tear larger, if only to see a bit more of the jungle that stood but a stone's throw away. Nevertheless, I marveled at the sight. It was neither stifling nor stagnant like the gray I had come to know. It seemed to be the middle of the night right now, judging by the lack of hustle and bustle from outside. And oh, it was a beautiful night. How I wished I had come upon this setting under better circumstance. With nothing better to do, I laid my head on the sack, reserving curiosity on the silky pink fleece they left beside it for later. All I could do was rest my head over it and wait for someone to come and treat with me.

'I wonder how long I've been out?' I thought to myself as I dug comfortably into the sack with the back of my head.

And then the thought occurred to me.

'What kind of cutthroats would be so considerate as to provide their prisoners with a pillow to rest their weary heads on?'

Even if this were just some sack of goods, they wouldn't be so careless as to leave it within my grasp. That was when I realized something. The sack I had laid my head on was warm and fluffy...and it stirred unbidden. The small peculiarity gave me cause to rouse up and regard the thing my head just laid on. Turning around hinged by curiosity, I nudged the sack by the skin of my nose.

There, I came upon an unbelievable sight. An unbelievably… cute sight... as far as I could see in this light, that is. I wished I could see her face more clearly.

Craning her sleepy head up, she yawned an adorable squeak of a yawn fit for a chocobo chick, not that I had ever seen a chocobo before. Her yellow coat, had definitely reminded me of the cheery fowl. In the mellow lamp light, she would have blended with the rest of the crates, barrels and sack, were in not for being in the cage with me. It seemed the trailing pink fleece her mane and tail all along. Even more surprising was the pair of beautiful wings that sprouted off her back, struggling to splay out beneath the straps that bound them to her barrel. Such a pity, it was, as had been the case of any winged creature. Those flappers were far too small and wouldn’t hold her up more than a half meter off the ground for a few seconds. Lacking the beak and talons that would have made her a griffon, a closer inspection let take note of the muzzle and floppy ears. She was definitely a pone like me. A feral pone to be exact, but not quite like the feral ones I’ve seen. She certainly resembled nothing of monstrous Sleipnir, though she bore hooves as they did. Her rear hooves in particular had been shackled to a chain staked into the ground that kept her from escaping, and another link leading to a heavy ball for good measure. She clutched the metal ball as though it were a rag doll. The hooves were the obvious giveaway that she hadn’t been given her rites yet either. But what was a feral pone doing here in this new world? Native or not, finding one here was certainly a surprise. It amazed me that she had only been roughed up as little as she had been. Was she someone’s pet? It wasn't unheard of that a noble or other eccentric type would take one in for such purposes...or was she some rare breed, her essence akin to the literary unicorns that were free-spirited, pure, and imparted wisdom to only the worthy?

I had seen my fair share of feral pones before. In-keeping with pones who had received their rites and how other civilized races regarded them, I had instilled in myself an almost superstitious loathing for them I almost never questioned. For a brief moment, my infatuation of her cutesy looks was shadowed by a sense of revilement. I honestly felt disgusted to be in the same space as her. And yet all these thoughts raced in my mind the moment my eyes caught sight of this…peculiar specimen.

It was then I realized she had taken notice of me. In a moment she turned anxious and scared. But something told me this was no ordinary feral pone. My curiosity eclipsed my disgust as I had tossed about to get a better look at her in this dim light, but even the small motion affrighted her into ducking behind the curtain of her pink mane. Her eyes still warily peeked through and kept watch over my every move. She scampered into a corner of the cage, wings eager to shield her trembling form even from beneath their bonds. I continued to fidget my way in advance, which only caused her to backpedal even more.

And then, the unexpected happened. When I was not more than an arm's length away.

There was a glint of familiarity in her gaze. Something about me put her at ease for she neither scampered nor trembled any longer. With chained wary hoof she approached and touched my face. I did not shy away and the glint in her eyes grew. Tears welled. She began to weep. Her voice croaked as she mumbled unintelligibly past heavy sobbing, barely stringing together a jumble of gibberish as she wiped her tears. Poor thing. If only she knew even a single word... Wait a second...she was trying to speak!

"I-I'm sorry, I can't understand a word you're saying," I whispered, hoping no patrol was nearby to hear me. Then I skootched on closer, managing to prop myself on my knees and settle on a squat. "Could you please speak clearly?"

Hearing my words, she stifled her sorrow then hesitantly, she spoke.

"Aehh...aaehhaeha...aaaeehaah."

I could be wrong. Maybe she was just well-trained. For her efforts, she slumped in frustration and rubbed her throat. Then she tried again.

"Eeaaaha...ahheeaaa...ahhhehaaaee...eeaaae...uoooohh."

Her groaning had gone on the same for a few minutes more, at which point I decided enough was enough. It was grating on my ears to hear, however well-intended her non-words were. "Ugh, no! Just stop!" I shouted, causing her to shrink back.

"Are you even trying to speak...or are you just some pet project of a busybody orator?"

My words stung fresh wounds. She gritted her teeth whilst bringing her hoof up again to rub at her throat, but before long she broke into sobs once more. The winged pone craned her head down in defeat, falling in a slump right in front of me. This pone...she was too sensitive to be feral. There was no doubt of that.

"Oh, no. Please stop crying," I called to her attention, and she looked past her mane as she still wept. "Listen, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to be cruel."

For the simple apology, she opened her arms and took my in a weak embrace, chains clinking as she neared. Her gentle touch reminded me so much of Pearl, and now I regretted ever raising my voice at her. But the something else caught my curiosity, a raw patch devoid of fur.

"Hold on. Can I please have a closer look at your neck?" She rubbed at again before turning her head up and bringing it closer to me. She definitely was intelligent, not just a well-trained pet. Too attentive and responsive to be one.

"These sore spots...no, not sore spots, it's a scar." In the dim light I was barely able to catch notice of the faint yet rough scab that rubbed large across her neck. The large scab was flat and looked as hard as a callous, but nothing about them seemed natural. "This was closed with magick... You've been muted?"

What reason would anyone have to mute a riteless pone, and yet the sigil was missing. Not even a trace of warmth to find. The thought perplexed me with a myriad of circumstances buzzing in my mind.

"Who would do such a thing? Can you recall when the sigil was set on you?" If a sigil had been used at all, that is.

I onced her over as she gathered her thoughts. At first she opened her mouth to answer, but stopped when she realized nothing would come of her dumb mumbling. Her listless gaze swept the ground in pensive recollection to no avail. It was then I caught sight on another peculiarity, a brand on her flank peeking from under her wing.

"Hold on." It was a sigil of some sort. I could not make out its exact detail in this dim light. But what I could infer was curious enough if not queer. Cheery fluffs of pink, a set of three to be precise, or so it seemed. They almost almost seemed to flutter even in stillness, as if their joyful jaunt over the fragrant flowers of an imaginary meadow had been captured in the branding.

"What is this strange sigil?" She kindly brought her flank closer so I could inspect it as well. How thoughtful of her.

I definitely had more questions than that, but it was all I could muster, having not eaten and literally fallen off a mountain.

She gathered her thoughts once more and moved to speak, but stopped short of a pain from her throat which she consoled with a hoof. Frustration seeped from her as she shifted her head and took breath after anxious breath. Voiceless and caged with a stranger, it was another fray in her spirits. She shook head down and let out quiet sobs once more.

So it seemed she was just another prisoner, as I was. "I am deeply sorry. There's nothing I can do."

In the midst of my own exhaustion and her sobbing, this exchange had hinted me to one clue at least. This pone had seen other pink dolls before. She must have. The others could be alive!...or she could have met Piper. Damnit all, my luck's been foul since the other day! Then again, I had no idea how long it had been since she and the two bangaa spirited me from the Aerie. Was this even Sandata's camp?

I cursed inwardly for catering that fleeting hope, and yet I clung to it nonetheless. They could still be alive. Piper must have known what fates our family met, and that was something to look forward to.

What I didn't look forward to was being taken by an uproar of a surprise.

There was a thrum in the air, subtle yet resounding. It was a faint feeling that I would have easily missed, though somehow I felt it. It was there one moment, and then it was gone. Then the next thing followed...no, stampeded. Feeling an immense weight run over and tug at the hair of my tail, a rush of wind surged forcefully behind me. The yellow pone, startled, dove into me for cover. Neither of us saw what had happened, for the canvas of the tent fell over the both of us and the light of the lamp was put out, though I could still hazard a guess. Something had crashed into the tent. It taken half the wooden cage in its wake, with the falling beams and nails thankfully missing us by mere inches. Hehe, lords... Had I still been sitting in that spot...ugh, I shuddered to think about the pain I would have been suffering.

We were both still under the tent canvas when wood further cracked, split and creaked open, followed by coughing and a set of footsteps falling and making their way over the wreckage.

"And you said I'd get myself killed!" A newcomer hacked past his coughs, just outside the canvas that separated us from him. "Well then, look who's NOT crumpled in a puddle of blood and agony, Spike! See well with your eyes who's still alive and kicking!...Spike?... Spike?"

His shadow casted on the canvas that draped over what was left of the cage. He looked around but deflated when he was unable to find the person he addressed.

"Oh, right... Well, onto business then."

The newcomer grabbed the canvas and tore it away. A moon hung brightly behind his back, casting a gentle cold light as he stood there and regarded the yellow pone in particular. The newcomer was built large and wore a light yet spartan hooded uniform that covered him from head to toe. Also he wore goggles and a mask that hid his face.

"There you are. Lucky of me to find you so soon. Now, come away." He leaned in and reached out with a hand, but I put myself between him and the yellow pone in spite of my bound state.

"No one moves an inch until you start explaining yourself!" I wasn't in a position to make demands, but fat chance was there of me sitting idly by.

"I see you have a friend." His hand reaching to his sides, he pulled out a knife and quickly struck without warning. I thought I was dead, yet I felt my neck with my hands and inspected my person to find I was completely unharmed. It had only dawned on me a second later that he had freed me of my bonds. "No matter, she come with us too."

He chuckled amusedly as I rubbed the sore spots left by my rope burns. "Looks like we've another head to count in our cadre. An emboldening turn of events if I do say so myself."

Reaching out to me with a hand, he pulled me up and I took stock of the damage he had done. There was a boulder made of metal and wood that had rolled over the crate, nearly uprooting the large tree that had stopped it. A hatch opened from the side of it, where I guessed he had emerged from. There was a large sigil inscribed on its surface, one I was not familiar with. I could feel an ethereal static emanating from it.

"Quite the disastrous entrance you made," I commented sarcastically, kicking up a piece of debris. "You know, you only missed me by an inch." My index finger and thumb nearly touched in a pinch for that egregious what-if, a gesture he took in stride. "Even ran over my tail you did! Had I been sitting right over there as I just had not a few minutes ago, you could have killed me. And who said I was joining your lot?"

He chuckled at my apparent annoyance. "'Could have' being the operative word, my dear neophyte," he answered past his mask which muffled his words. This arrogant bugger, he was so set on me joining his little club. "The count of casualties is still inextricably zero, miraculously the alarm's yet to be raised, and you both are free from that cage. I'd say the goings have gone quite well."

Oh, my poor tail, it ached. Fret not, I would have words with him later. There were more important things at the moment. "Ugh, whatever. Just help me find something that can break the chain of this yellow one here."

He only nodded as he regarded the winged pone with a peculiar scrutiny. As if she'd struck his fancy. Hmm...

After scrounging through the wreckage that had become of the supply tent, we had found a sturdy enough axe that could break the winged one's chain clean off. Though the manacle still rung around her back leg, she buried her head again in another embrace around me. Tears of gratitude trickled into my ragged clothes, but I didn't mind. They could use a good wash anyway. And we could remove the manacle later anyway.

"Oh, how appalling," said our savior as he dropped the axe in hand. Pulling a piece of cloth out from a pocket, he then removed his mask. "It's a such a lovely night, yet I've broken into a sweat!" The wavy bangs of his apple red mane bounced as he shook his head, and with the cloth in hand he wiped over the yellow fur of his sweaty face. Bringing out a flask, he quenched his steaming self with a hearty swig. From the refraction of the spritz of water that fell from his lips in a cool sigh, his green eyes glistened in the cold moonlight.

It had just dawned on me that the gentleman who had saved us was no ordinary pone. He was just so ruggedly handsome, and he was so very...awful about it! Oh, the nerve!

While the elements indeed fortuitously aligned for his little spectacle, he had definitely practiced this smoldering act. This guy was a wolf with a pone's face. Now way I would fall for this. And yet, a slight warmth radiating near my belly told me someone had... Oh no.

"Don't tell me you've been smitten by this scoundrel, yellow one?" Furiously she shook her head. Seemed my guess hit the mark, and she blush a madder warmth over my belly for my intuition.

"How cruel of you? To only ever address a beautiful creature such as her by a plain unfitting moniker such as...'yellow on,' ugh," he rebuked with a shudder. Hunkering his large frame down, he extended his hand and bid her close with a bulb of gysahl he produced from his satchel.

"Now here's a thought, why don't I call you 'Freesia?' It’s a pretty enough name for one like yourself.”

‘Freesia’ didn’t object so much as her attention laid mostly on his hand. Oh well, it was better than calling her 'yellow one,' I'd give him that. Her approach was meek yet gradual, turning from hesitant to eager at the offer of the juicy green, her bellying grumbling as a reminder. "Seems my hunch was spot on. Dear, you are famished!"

Another grumble sounded off, feeling particularly close, yet no one but I really paid mind. Oh right, offer her some food and not me. It wasn't like I was hungry myself—

“There, there. Don’t you worry, Freesia. The ever trusty Famran here will keep you safe.”

This idiot, how much longer could he keep his back turned!?

“The others shall be pleased to meet you—agh!”

The stone I tossed bounced off him nicely, though I would have to savor wiping that smug face off him later. “You…that hurt! What was that…for…” With a hand to his head, he trailed off and turned pale, seeing what I had pointed to behind him.

With radiant wings flared and aglow, the gleaming visage of armor floated down and clinked as it landed. A righteous aura emanated from its polished off-green steel, harkening to the day I first laid eyes on such fine craftsmanship. But I had no time to ogle. As the knight within moved, plates of form-fitting armor slid gracefully and perfectly over each other, not scraping once through each motion. The knight unsheathed a sword and pointed its tip straight at us. The self-proclaimed 'Famran' had put himself between the knight, and Freesia and I. Though now that I cared to notice, the winged knight didn't seem all that big. In fact the knight was smaller than Famran, perhaps even less than a head taller than I.

"Escape with Freesia! Just run straight into the woods!" He said with an outstretched arm. "I'll buy you two some time!"

The knight was closing in step for step. No words of warning were spoken, simply a furious stare that would distracted. "What makes you so sure we can get away? Other soldiers might be scouting about in patrol! And what about you--"

"Just trust me! I've thought this through," he assured in a glance back. Confidence was in his eyes, I'd give him that.

With no other choice, I had to at least try. Seeing her frozen stiff just right behind me clutching my leg, I grabbed her by the shoulders and shook Freesia to her senses. At the sight of the knight approaching, she erupted into a muttering and panicked mess, but it was right for her to be so. "Snap out of it, Freesia! We have to run!"

At my words she only panicked even more. Freesia backpedaled anxiously and broke out into a run for the woods a short sprint behind us. At least she would get to cover first, so I turned to check on Famran in a glance.

Then there was a pounce just outside my field of vision and a squeal, followed by a crunching thud to the ground. My heart skipped a beat. "Ahaha, just in the nick of time, I see! Nearly skittered from my grasp, you mangy pone!"

I instantly regretted taking my eyes off her for a moment. Tanzan had slunk out of nowhere and pinned Freesia to the ground.

"Aww, did that get you riled, you worthless doll?" He pulled her head up by here mane, a rivulets of blood running from her forehead and nose. She didn't struggle, neither did she move. I couldn't tell if she yet breathed. "There's just no leashing your petty sympathies now, is there? Even feral fodder, the likes of this sad pone is enough to get your heart bleedin,' you fokin' doll, ahahahahaha!"

Anger took over me and I was ready to lunge at the lizard with all my fury. "You bastard!"

But our savior quickly intervened with a bisque orb and threw it down to shatter. Smoke engulfed the vicinity in a smothering wave, causing Tanzan and the knight to cough. I was thankful Famran had given me his mask and goggles, though that meant he was at the mercy of the smog himself.

"This... wasn't the smart choice at all," he regretfully commented past all his coughing. "Seems I have to everything myself, as always."

"No, you don't. My blunders are mine to deal with, so let me--"

"You can't! Let me worry about Freesia," he grunted past whilst gripping my arm. "It's important you escape, Piper insisted it so if I ever found you here!"

My eyes went wide at the mention of her name. Who was this Famran? How did he know her? And what mess did I exactly get myself into? Question after question only added to the pile with no answers in sight. My gaze shifted between the forest but a stone's throw away, and the two other coughing figures who slowly gathered their bearings in the dissipating smoke. At the chances of seeing Piper face to face and getting everything sorted, I hesitantly took the first step. But that meant leaving the both of them behind...

It took a moment's hesitation, but not one more than that... I turned and ran away.

I'm sorry, Freesia.

"If I find one scar on her, I'm holding you responsible!" Behind me, Famran yelled, last I heard of him before slipping into the thicket. "I wouldn't have it any other way, love!"

...

My breath had grown haggard, leaving a raspness my throat. Sweat trickled down all over my body, and I hadn't even had a thing to drink since Sahmad's kindness.

...

Most of all, my battered body ached even more so now, this prolonged run exacerbating what weariness had already borne down upon me. The deeper I went then more the forest in turn grew ever gnarled and unknowing.

...

I couldn't tell how long I had been running, but seeing what little pursuit of lack thereof gave chase, it must have been more than a couple of hours by now. At this point, the air had turned thick and humid.

...

Recalling the hazed disarray I had pointed myself away from, I had run in a straight line and never veered off since. Now my bearings were lost as was my guiding moonlight. It was dark all around me with nary a peep of light shining through the unbroken canopy. And worse yet, I was painfully aware of how helpless I was, wandering blind in this darkness...but not for long.

I had no way of seeing it, but found me nonetheless. Not a trip over stone, nor a low-hanging branch that took me for yet another tumble down. It was impact that met my face with the force of a brick.

"Guooohh!!!"

...

...

...

...

...

The wee hours of the morning were a passing of twilight just as much as dawn and dusk were. Temperatures were quite brisk and cold for it, too. A biting cold enough to gnaw through my fur. For that I rubbed my hand to my chest, hoping it would induce even a fleeting warmth. Such were cold hours usually reserved for ghosts and disembodied sentiments to drift freely as would some pilgrims of the mortal coil wander aimlessly during the trials of the day. Not a soul stirred nor hurried, as all likely had their heads down to fluffy pillows and warm beds, or whatever fared well-enough for a substitute in parts such as these.

Not I, however. I was alone, standing just outside the infirmary.

Regarding the earlier thought, I found it strange to be awake at such hours, when all others would be sleeping, though I had largely gotten used to waking up in the middle of the night over the course of my short yet eventful life. Rather it was neither ghosts nor sentiments that kept me up now. And it was most definitely not of the peculiarity of there being an infirmary at all, considering this nature of the expedition and its...participants. Still it had boggled me nonetheless, that an infirmary was the first building that had been erected on site, carved to the side of a craggy cliff at the foot of the great mountain. It was a fancy that crossed my mind for a few moments, but still a tangential fancy to fill the gaps of boredom.

What had really bothered me so was that it was dark out still, and I should be sleeping. It couldn't be helped. A loud ruckus rocked the outpost and jostled me from slumber not half an hour ago.

My sights had lingered squarely over the curtain that covered the way in. With candlelight in hand, I had ducked my head past the door and saw smoke dissipating over where stocks and supplies should be, over a ten minute walk away. There I had stood, wary for any movement or sign of encroachers, but none had come. The ruckus had only ever seemed to be isolated to the supply station.

…

…

Had it already begun?

…

Or was it just another raid by those crazed changeling? The poor souls.

...

It had been some time. The candle had snuffed itself out in my hand, the wisps of its wake gone in the wind. There I shivered in the cold, eager to return to much needed rest, and yet the birds already were starting to wake and chirp in the trees, not long after the ruckus settled. Their sounds were a veritable miracle of nature to my ears. The woods were so colorful and vivid compared to that of the graylands. Then again now was not the time for daydreams and tangents. I needed to keep alert.

Yet the alarms remained silent throughout the camp. Knight Undaunted must have dealt with the intruders personally, so I returned to the infirmary.

However, even as I climbed back into bed. The confines of the blanket were still toasty, though falling back to sleep had proven difficulty in the face of a handful of distractions. In the midst of a splitting headache, a fresh wrap of bandages rung my head tight, and worry was an ever-sprouting weed in my mind. A subtle throbbing behind my eyes persisted, no thanks to that emotional waning star of a pone. Before treatment, any light brighter than a match had turned excruciating to look at, though I hadn’t much to worry about in that respect, thanks to Ravness’ efforts. To think even with the pathetic stub on her head, the crazed mare had mustered that much magick in a place like this. But the thing that bothered me the most was the peculiar case of my hand. Not only was it itchy, a strange sensation emanated from the space where it should have been, over the bloodied and bandaged stump that had become of my arm. At least, these two among the many mysteries that had plagued me for so long were revealed to me and made sense at last… The disappearance of...her hand and the mystery of that scar on her neck.

Yet for all these things come to light, my heart grew only more encumbered and sullen.

…

…

Silence passed cloyingly as I let the weight come to settle. Nevertheless, this fate was my cross. What I had given up to bear it didn’t matter now. It would all only come back to me one what or another. For now, I could only pray for Levy and their safe passage as I always have.

And at the very least, I was close to falling asleep now...it was oh so nice...feeling slumber's gentle embrace...

...!!

And then came another ruckus, a clatter of barrels coming down. Though it wasn’t as loud as the last, I still couldn’t help but get up to see what it was. Then followed an obnoxious sound, an obnoxious voice stifled behind a hand. Recognizing that familiar sniggering, I peeked through the door to see who it was. It was that despicable Tanzan across the way. He was skulking in the shadows with several items clutched close to his person, bearing that wily grin he unfailingly sported whenever he was in middle of getting away with something. In all my displeased years of knowing him, I’ve seen enough to be sure of this personal tell of his with certainty. He didn’t even bother to set the fallen barrels right up again. Then again, I wouldn’t either, since some golem would come by sooner or later. Whatever the case, he was the only living soul around to talk to. I would have much rather talked to Sahmad, but the gentle giant wasn’t around.

“Oi, you lizard,” I hissed at him before he could slink past a corner. “What are you doing sneaking around, eh?”

Though it seemed he was too far away to hear me, he did drop some of the items he carried. They clinked to the ground and glistened in the moonlight, rolling away a bit as he picked them up. With his precious cache steady in his arms once more, he disappeared past a corner. Though a cutthroat ruffian he may be, he was now officially under the princess’s employ, absolved of any past crime and protected from conviction by her name. And yet there he was, still sticking to shadows. What scheming was he up to now…

Leaving the infirmary a little grumpy, I made to stalk the bangaa a good pace away, far enough for him to not notice me. Rounding the corner he had just ducked into, something clinked at my feet. It was a jar he had somehow missed and left behind. It rolled out from the dark and settled in soft moonlight, its contents glowing in contact with the light.

'Moongrass? What need had he for a spice at this hour?'

Mess call would ring at morning’s first horn anyway, so why worry about food? Ugh…don’t tell me he was smoking it. The telltale glow of a bonfire painted a boulder a splotch of orange by the tree line some distance away. I approached the boulder with the lightest step I could muster. But before I could reach it, something ruffled beneath my step.

Looking down, a curious bag made itself known as an indistinct blob in the shadows. Moving it to the moonlight, I inspected its contents. Uncinching the knot that held it to a close, a fluff of vivid feathers nearly bounced from within, hued in soft yellow. Past the heavy scent of dirt and the blood wafting from the bottom of the bag, it smelled faintly of flowers plucked fresh from a meadow. Did he drop this as well? That idiot, where was he ever going to peddle off this mess? Sure, the smell and the blood could be washed off, but that risked scrubbing of its potential as a catalyst. Not to mention this was the first ever outpost in the Agrippan Jagd, there was no market! Who was ever going to…buy this from…wait… Hmm, flowers from the meadow…

My heart sank and turned heavy as lead when the sudden realization struck swift as lightning. No, not a realization...a reminder. How could I forget! Legs tensed as I entered a mad dash, foregoing stealth entirely. In spite of that, I came upon the bangaa relishing the bliss of his meal, completely indifferent to everything around him, even the stack of crates that had fallen in my wake near the end of my run. I was right in front of him too. Yet he continued to eat without a care in the world.

The slavering lizard long slathered a bone he had stripped clean, savoring every lick. “Oooh, most succulent…most savory! Why hadn’t I switched to pone meat sooner?” He ran its length all through the length of his mouth, savoring it in one more lick before biting down hard and eating the bone entirely. Tanzan enjoyed its taste thoroughly in a manner a child would a cookie, then downed a bottle of ale in one go to prolong his high. Seeing him so enraptured brought him down to a new low in my eyes, a level lower than scum. “What would Sandata think? No, he’s likely on the stuff himself already…Mmmm, the selfish bastard. If I play my cards right, maybe I can get the rest of that sniveling pone in my next wage. Better yet, I should ask for freshly butchered pone in every wage! Oooh, are they delicious!”

He started with the smaller ones, before moving onto the next bone and the next, each crunch coming off as a harmonious choir of bells as far as his ears was concerned. The smell was disgusting. It was a mix of all the alcohol he had stolen and the faint scent of dripped fat wafting from the pit he had roasted his meal over. The only thing that stopped me from vomiting was my sheer anger. When he finished the last bone, his attention finally turned to me.

“Oooh, a slacker’s come to the party awfully late. What was your name...quite easy to forget with a face like that. Sorry, little doll, I’m fresh out now!” He cruelly jested with a snort and smug grin on his snout. Tanzan then brought up a plate up from the ground, covered in sauce with the small wooden skewers pinned under his fingers.

“See this, you stupid pone? All empty! No more! Never took you for a cannibal though. If you had come a bit earlier and begged, I would have given you some out of the kindness of my heart! Hahahaha!”

His laughter was smug yet reserved at a volume that was hush enough. Most of its sound was muffled by the thick growth of surrounding forest. Had he laughed any louder or dug the fire pit any closer, the sights and sounds would have alerted our presiding Knight Undauted, and Tanzan would have a received a swift and strict beating for this all. Seemed like he thought this through to an extent.

Dabbing his fingers in the sauce on the plate, he licked his fingers clean one by one as she approached me. “So what can I do for Sandata’s dog of a doll? Didn’t your master—“ He cut himself off when he spied the thing in my hand. The bag of feathers that squarely aimed my ire at him.

Plucking the bag from my grasp, he eagerly inspected it. Hmm, he clearly thought I had taken some for myself. Next thing was he’d likely call me a thief, the predictable cretin. “Oi, oi, oi! Where’d you get this now, you thief!? If I find so much as a single feather missing, I’ll—”

See? Predictable. Yet for all that predictability, the last thread patience in me frayed. With a stern hand to his chest, I shoved at him gently.

“Ah, now this is a laugh,” he chuckled as I kept pushing, not budging him even an inch…yet.

The sigils of earth flashed across my mind.

“You've some nerve to steal from me. But if you think your scrawny self can put on a dent a bangaa like me, you're scrapped in the head!" He cricked his knuckles and neck, amused to see what outcome might develop in giving me this opening. "Well let's see it then! The best shot this mongrel doll can muster—”

"If you say so," I replied wide-eyed and smile bared toothily.

Bearing down on him with more pressure, he was forced to take a step back, followed by another and another as I gradually pushed him to the wall. His face devolved from an amused grin to stark disbelief as I performed a feat he never thought possible. “Oi, is this it?" He still doubted. "I've killed pones with more rough and tumble than--gah!!”

I ramped up the pressure and pushed him all the way to the boulder, his back going flat against it. Bullets of sweat ran down Tanzan’s face as he realized fully the force I bore down on him. Losing composure, he struggled to get free. Wriggling under my grasp proved counter-productive as my hand caught under a rib, cracking at his sudden jerking and causing him pain. He screamed in agony, and while he was preoccupied by the pain, I set my hand back on his chest squarely and doubled the pressure. His larger bangaa hands wrapped around my neck and lone arm, he desperately attempted to squeeze the life out of me as I slowly beat him within an inch of his. His efforts were futile, as the sharp pain that beset him stole strength from his arm. And so Tanzan squirmed, and screamed, and cried as I kindled all the dread and fear in his mind… He even pissed himself, the poor bastard.

He saw them clear as day. I too could see them, reflected in his gaze as he screamed. The maddening nightmare in the eyes that saw moonlight.

If I wanted to, I could kill him right here. The temptation was there and oh, it was tantalizing to resist! But I didn’t…I could have but ultimately I stayed my hand. Even a cutthroat ruffian like him yet had a purpose to serve, as far as I was aware. Though with one final push, I shoved him into the boulder in an earth trembling crunch, burying him snugly into its rock. Bangaa were a sturdy folk, and I’d even see some that had taken a saber to the arm and walk away as if it were nothing. Tanzan would survive this ordeal, of that I was certain. Now onto more pressing matters.

Tanzan’s eyes fluttered open and close in a rapid erratic pace. His head shuddered as he began frothing in the mouth. Placing my hand squarely on his stomach, I pushed its contents out and guided it up his throat. The vomit spilled in a disgusting arc to the ground. It missed my face by inches.

The hot steaming mess he regurgitated pooled as a puddle on the ground. Shredded meat, brittle bone and a hint of uncooked blood mixing in with all the alcohol he had imbibed and the stomach bile that broke it all down. Any other person would have gagged with revulsion at the look of it, but I would not shy away. Her wings didn’t deserve such a gastric end. With my remaining hand, I scooped the mess and carried it to the fire pit, taking several trips to pick up every morsel. There, I tossed meat cud after stinking meat cud into the smoldering pit and buried it in the ash of the flames that roasted its flesh.

With that matter concluded, I ran my soiled hand on the bark of a tree, and huffed a content sigh before turning back. Yet something else caught my eye, a tiny sullied thing that stuck out from the top of the ashen heap. Curiously I picked it up and regarded it in my hand. It was a length of bone chipped by the flame yet remained none too brittle. In fact it wasn’t brittle at all and even bent slightly. A lithe and resilient thing plucked from its unwilling owner who had the wherewithal to beg for mercy, mercy the cruel bangaa had none to spare. This short length of both was no longer than my finger, yet it had endured flames that only knew to roar and incinerate.

A ghost of a smile crept over me.

And here I thought I had merely taken a detour to indulge in a reckoning on the side. The outcome was ever more auspicious than I had imagined, that I would come upon this meager vestige and make it the moon’s fated vessel. Oh, their heads would turn for circles!

As for the sorry bangaa who I’d interred in the cold rock, he got what was coming to him.

Passing by his hole, I took one more glance before turning back in. The mere sight of him disgusted me, and I spat over his comatose face out of spite.

“Just deserts, you hopeless bastard.”

Author's Note

AN[080917]
*So I said there would be cover art... Sorry, but that turned out to be a lie :applecry:
Maybe I can un-lie that over the weekend? No promises.

*This chapter came out a lot later than intended. So I guess that sets up my routine update cycle, about 2-3 weeks per chapter. A month at most in the future, when I have to move to Australia for school again.

*I'd say this is a draft, but I've edited a lot along the way. But expect some later edit changes down the week. I'll also be spending some time adding some 'telling' snippets in chapter one and/or two to round out the Cyrilians more. So with that and cover art also on my plate, the next chapter might come around the same time as this one.

AN[140917]

*So no cover art yet. Good news is that I have two long free weeks all to myself come monday, so I'm look forward to making progress not only in my writing, but also getting back into my arts. Maybe a bit of 3D practice on the side too. Expect the next chapter to be at least 12k long with cover art up by then. Thank you all for your patience.

Chapter 7 - Codenames

"Ugh, not this again," Kirk said exasperatingly. We kept to a line walking down the tunnel. He held the flashlight behind us to shine the way, while in front of me Agatha followed his sentiment by the shake off her head.

"Come on, guys. It's a lot more important than you think!" I had to try to convince them, our lives could very well depend on having proper codenames!

"Sure, it is, Connie," Agatha tossed back with a turn of her bandaged head. "Just not as important as the fact the earth around us has been dancing nonstop for over an hour and the walls could bury us alive at any moment!!"

She did have a point there. Indeed the walls were shaking and trembling and had been for a while now, but not terribly more so than when we had found Agatha and settled down to rest. But seeing as they had been going on for so long, anyone would be antsy being caught in an earthquake while exploring a cave. This was strange, why wasn't I?

In any case, we had a good five or so hours of sleep, or so our phones told us. It was a peculiar sense of wonder and accomplishment that held me firmly in spite of our equine forms. We could fiddle them enough to turn the phones on and manipulate them a fraction of how we used to. It was amazing. But even more amazing that for some reason, their batteries were going in reverse! If only Aggie hadn't run away, we would have told her about it. And telling her now didn't seem like the right time. Speaking of Aggie, it was amazing and quite relieving as well that she was able to shake off the pain like it was nothing. And then I'd thought that after having treated her wounds, she'd be more receptive of my ideas too. But no, Mergo was still foremost on her mind, and Kirk just wanted to get this over with! Figures... Now I know how Gria and Monty felt when they had to deal with me when I freshly moved into Balfon.

"Uh, Connie?"

I stopped and turned as he called to me, which tore me from my thoughts. "What's up, Kirk?"

The flashlight dangled from his neck when he dropped it from his mouth to speak, and with a hint of annoyance in his tone for that matter. "With Agatha being injured and all, she's supposed to be the one setting the pace, not you. So could you please speed up a bit?"

"Oh—oh!" Looking forward, Agatha had gotten a bit farther from us, but only stopped for the lack of light, taking the chance to rest her aching body as she waited for us to catch up. "Sorry about that, Kirk!"

Quickly closing the distance, we returned to proper formation. He had argued that this was the best way to set the pace, seeing it would be easy to keep track of our injured friend like this. But then again we were in the mercy of the earth, and there was no point to any of this...well, maybe for the sake of visibility, but that was about it. Agatha herself was just so focused on finding Mergo, and both she and Kirk just wanted to get out of this long tunnel when it hadn't even cave in on us. After all, so much time had passed, and for all its strutting and shaking, it hadn't followed up on its threats to bury us alive. But most of all it was just so frustrating they treated this so seriously, that they never thought once about the fact we were headed for another world. That this was the start of an adventure!

The walls petered out of their vibration, giving us moments to breath in sighs of relief...though that was far from the end of it. As quickly as it settled, the tremors rebounded and intensified far beyond comfort!

"Oh no..." Kirk grumbled through the light in his mouth. For that mental jynx I conjured, I couldn't help but curse myself. "RUN!!!"

The pace turned into a mad dash that hurt my hooves. I didn't know if it was because we weren't used to walking on all fours yet or because our hooves needed time to form callouses, but they hurt even more as our run went on. But if my hooves hurt, I couldn't begin to imagine how much Agatha's hooves hurt, let alone her whole body!

Our run was frantic and harrowing, every second felt like a minute and in turn ever minute felt like an hour. Down the tunnels we hurried in a gradual descent, thankful that there was never any fork in the path that would split us up, or that nothing had collapsed on top of us yet. Then abruptly Agatha stopped before us. The walls still shook relentlessly, and it seemed like she had given up.

"Don't stop, Agatha!" I called to her as she calmly turned around. "We can't--"

The moment I caught up to her I realized why she had stopped. The tunnel had opened into a chamber whose roof stretched into the darkness above our heads. Here the tremor stopped for no apparent reason, so I wondered with Agatha as we stared out into the cave and then to each other in mutual confusion.

"Whoa."

"I know, right? It just--"

She was interrupted when Kirk crashed into the both of us from behind. Clambering up from the heap we had formed on the hard unforgiving floor, he crankily yelled, both for us coming to sudden halt and his wings that were pinned in our tangle. "What the hell are you guys doing stopping...in the middle..." He trailed off as the sudden change of our situation fully registered in his mind.

"Whoa..."

"I know, right?" Aggie started up again with the same words. "It just suddenly stopped shaking the moment I set foot here," she commented with a hoof to the tapering corridor that lead back into the tunnel. "I still can't believe it!"

"Damn, Mother Nature! You scary," he blurted as they locked eyes. Shortly after Agatha and Kirk both slumped down to the ground in a fit of chuckles, giddily grateful for the ridiculous and fortunate turn of events.

Meanwhile I couldn't help but bear an incredulous look on my face as I surveyed our surroundings. Even with the flashlight in my mouth though, there was nothing in this chamber to be found, all except from one detail that could easily be missed. A strange detail on the ground that preceded the entrance.

"This has to be investigated," I announced but Aggie and Kirk were too relieved to care at the moment.

Upon closer inspection of the end of the tunnel, I spotted clumps of dirt dotting a line across the way. Flicking the dirt off the tops revealed hidden stony bumps protruding from the ground. One hoof after the other I tip-toed over the line they formed that separated the tunnel from the chamber. In that moment, it all happened in a rush! The walls felt like they were closing and shook violently that we had escaped their chase briefly! Unable to keep my footing, I slipped and hit my head on the wall.

"Aaaahh!!" Before anything else could befall me, I threw myself back over the line into the boundaries of the chamber.

"Connie! What's wrong?" The two of them approached, worried when they saw me collapse.

I couldn't answer right away, for there was a splitting headache that wracked me as Aggie helped me get up. "I don't know, but the second I stepped back into the tunnel, everything shook and I-I think I tripped myself?... I don't know."

We all looked to the tunnel and sure enough it was as still as can be. Ugh, my head... "Was that earthquake even real?"

Kirk's wings flared open for a moment at my incredulous statement. "Of course it was real, we all saw the news. And that crack those scientist came to look at, it was as real as can be. I saw it myself!"

The mention of the scientists made me shudder. Speechless for the moment and unable to make anything else out of it, Agatha reached a hoof over the line. In a moment she retracted her hoof, turning spooked before voicing out her own confusion as well. "Whatever's happening, it's only happening across that line." She pointed with a hoof down. My headache intensified as she pointed it out, but then it immediately mellowed when we heard someone approaching us from behind.

"Agatha's right," another voice agreed upon joining in on our conversation. "That's the boundary right there. Quite straightforward its intent, keeping outsiders away."

We all turned to see someone standing with the flashlight that I had dropped in hand. She was clothed in nifty high end leather overcoat that fit and accented her form well, tailcoat swaying slightly. Her arm ended abruptly in a stump and had been bandaged with a bit of blood blotting, but other than that, it seemed she was fine. And she was fine, really. The smile on her pink muzzle flanked by her pink shoulder-length bangs told us it was so. Her pone face was unmistakable, even in a crowd of clones like her.

"Piper!" Kirk and Agatha yelled to great relief.

"We were so worried! Don't ever wander off like that again!" Aggie doted as she took her legs in an embrace.

Kirk only stood nearby, shaking his head and giving her a playful punch on her side. "And Agatha usually calls me the reckless of the bunch! Stop trying to one-up me, will you?"

Oh, why was I clutching my head again? No matter, Piper was here and she was safe. "You dummy!" I yelled in my dash to join their embrace. With a hand on my head she tousled my hair as our eye met.

"Don't you ever do that again!"

"Quit your nagging, loves. I heard Aggie the first time well enough," she chuckled. Then her face turned serious as she regarded the stone stubs that lined the entrance of the chamber.

"Can you tell us what that is?" She stepped forward to the line and hunkering down as she began to dig. In a few minutes, she had scrounged out a few of them from the dirt.

"Here we are." She brought them up for all of us to see. The part that stuck slightly the ground was plain and rough, while the dirt clumped and clung to shape that was buried. Piper picked one up and with a tap to the ground, the dirt fell off to reveal a carved symbol none of us recognized. "It's a carving of a sigil. And by the looks of it, it was placed here not too long ago."

"But what's a sigil?" Kirk asked further, the same question we all had on our minds.

Her brow scrunched in thought for a moment. "Well, the short of it is this. A sigil is a proxy that lets a particular spell persist long after it was originally casted. Most are made of pliable stuff like wood, metal or stone. Real advanced ones are made of magick and are self-sustaining if you can believe."

"So what does this one do?" Kirk asked again as Aggie and I followed intently.

She directed our attention to the wavy prong of the cast. "See this part?" She asked to which we nodded. With careful taps Piper flicked away some of the dirt, tracing it a finger along its edge "It's the part that throws any would-be intruders for a loop. Can’t intrude further if you don’t have the stones to go on, can’t you? I’m surprised you three even made it this far, considering humes were always made out to the cowardly flaky types in old stories! Aha!"

In spite of her well-meaning jab, we echoed 'oohs' and 'aahs' for her enlightening explanation. "So that means someone must not want us snooping around here."

As Agatha uttered those words, the faint echoes of footsteps sounded off far behind us. All of our ears swiveled, but Piper's eyes in particular darted at the direction with vigilance. "It's not safe here," she whispered, cajoling us with her hand to the opposite direction. She shone the flashlight to the ground as she ushered us into a grotto hidden behind an outcropping of stalagmites. Settling snuggly into our nook, she flicked the light off. "We should be safe here, so long as we keep quiet."

We sat there in the dark till the footsteps could be heard no more and the silence turned deafening. Though whenever we tried to speak, Piper shushed us down. "Um, Piper?" I chimed with my quietest voice.

"What is it, Connie? Whatever’s out there could still be there lurking about!" She returned in an even quieter voice that still managed to convey her seriousness and the urgency of our predicament.

I clasped my mouth to a close at her warning and time slowed to an anxious crawl as we all waited to something or nothing to happen. That crawl seemed to end sooner than expected when Piper sighed. "Sorry about that. I just didn't want us to get caught. So what's on your mind, loves?"

We continued to speak in the dark over hushed tones. "Well...about your hand, what happened to it?" Aggie asked before I could. It seemed she took notice of as well as I did, so I assumed Kirk had been curious about it also. On the other hand, Piper herself had been caught off guard by our curiosity, as if it never occurred to her that we’d ever ask about it. She shook her head slightly and stifled a chuckle, taking a moment before speaking up.

"Ah, this... Let's just say, I had a misunderstanding with a friend..."

She fell silent again before going on, the tension in the air weighing heavier for every moment she let pass. "She probably won't forgive me for what I've done, and she has every right to be angry... But she's a powerful ally and good friend...no matter how she came to be. I just hope she understands once this is all over. That is all I ever hope for."

She rested her hand over my shoulder, and addressed me directly. "Be brave, Connie...even when all others doubt, you must believe in her."

Her voice was meek and rang out hazily in my ear, but never before had something resounded in my mind with such volume, with such authority...with this much compassion... We were all in the dark now, both literally for hiding away and figuratively for going after Mergo. And even though, her words seemed to push me further into this darkness, even though the others should have said something when they would, they listened closely...I listened closely. There was no shying away from this.

"That's that then, loves. And I think the coast is clear enough," Piper concluded with a guess.

"But just to be sure, I'll scout on ahead. Here, Kirk." She passed a clinking thing over to him which I assumed was the flashlight. "Not a peep out from that thing unless absolutely necessary, so keep it off you hear?"

"Got it," Kirk answered, flashing it on momentarily as a joke. For that he received a slap on the noggin. "Oww."

"You wise ass. You better keep that well at off if you want what's best for you lot. Are we crystal?" She increased her volume ever slightly.

"Crystal as can be, Piper," I answered, with Aggie and Kirk following in their own mouthed and mumbled agreements.

"Good, I'll be back within half an hour at most," Piper said, a slight chuckle escaping her for no particular reason. "That's all I'm going to need..."

Her outline stood out slightly against the dark and was hard to make out, but for the flicker of light Kirk had loosed, I watched her silhouette as she got up and somehow navigated her way out of the grotto as blind as any of us. As the encroacher's footsteps had petered out in the distance, so too did her own footsteps echo and fade as she made her way into the darkness.

Owing to the lack of light and Piper's instructions, it didn't take long for the others to fall asleep or for me to follow.

...

...

...

...

...

...

"Attention, all passengers. We will be arriving at the Lhusu-Centurio Station shortly. Please mind your belongings."

"Gaaahh!!....Oooh, my head."

The announcement rang throughout the train car. At its blaring volume, I was rattled out of sleep but just didn't want to come out from the covers.

"Once again, we will be arriving at the Lhusu-Centurio Station shorty. Please mind your belongings. Thank you."

The announcement echoed once more, beckoning my musty and slumbered form to stir. Joints creaked and muscles ached for the uncomfortable position I had settled them into at this window side seat. My head ached for what little sleep I had gotten, though I still checked my phone quickly for the time. Over the slight throbbing of my eyes, it told me it had just turned ten in the morning, but I could care less. I was all by my lonesome in carriage, and it had turned freezing overnight as the train travelled over the misty ranges of the Lutia Mountains. So no one would've blamed me for having pilfered as many complementary blankets as I wanted and pulled down all the blinds. My bones were as cold and heavy as stone. Indurated beyond invigoration. Even as wholesome light from the idyllic Cyrilian countryside crept past the cracks and fell over my eyes, I only grumbled and turned over.

Then again, it was an uphill battle return to sleep. The cheery afterglow that lingered in my eyes playfully swept the sand away and stirred thoughts into skimming wakefulness. With half-lidded eyes and half a mind, I entertained those thoughts. Clamored visions of the weary and worn traffic in a bustling metro that struggled to breathe crowned the center of my daydream, while calm echoes of birds chirping over the suburban sprawl that rested in its shadow coerced no hurry whatsoever and so offered the most fitful of respites. The moment I would step down into the station, it would all be a familiar yet refreshing break from the fast lane that was the Balfon lifestyle. But more importantly I remembered I would be seeing Aggie and Kirk again. I'd be seeing my best friends in the whole world for the first time in over a year. And for that I was happy. I couldn't help but crack a stupid grin right there.

"Ah, here we go," a voice said, it's owner settling snuggly down into the seat next to me. "What are you smiling on about?"

"Nothing...I just wanna get some more shut eye," I groaned past a heavy yawn, digging back into the covers.

My voice had turned slightly muffled with the fabric over it, and she quirked her head wondering for moment what exactly I had said. When she figured it out, she went about her business. Namely talking to me and keeping me from sleeping. How wonderful.

"These are some ritzy foodstuffs you folk have here. Such a wide selection." The sound of plastics ruffling and crinkling caught in my ear, and as I hadn't eaten in while, my stomach grumbled. “Corn chips, rice crisps, dried fruits, and jerky, all at one stall? And that’s just what I could recognize! By the gods, you humes have it easy here.”

"Snacks are snacks, no big deal. You’d be even more surprised if we ever drop by a convenience store." I pulled the blanket over my mouth down. "What did you get for Kirk? He likes it when I bring him snacks for other places."

"I couldn't afford any more on what you gave me, so I just grabbed some no-name bars and candies they had lying around on the counter. Will these do?"

She put one right in front of me to see, and I couldn't help but chuckle when I didn't recognize the brands myself. "Hah, that guy's fine with anything. Makes it more exciting for him when he doesn’t know what he’s eating, the dolt."

"That's good then. By the by, what was it that you wanted again, love?"

"Clover chips," I managed to mouth in my bundled state.

The snack plopped onto my lap, but something was off. In fact the most important thing was off. "Open it please."

"Connie, you've two good hands on you. I have only one for crying out loud!" Already tearing into her own snack, its barbecue scent wafted out and I couldn't help but cry.

"Open the bag, Piper! I'm a zombie in the morning," I groaned terribly.

"Oh, for nightmare's sake."

Following an annoyed sigh, she took the bag of chips in hand and tore its top open, its processed flavor wafting as a cheesy goodness to the delight of my nose. Piper placed the bag precariously on my stroller bag in front of me and pointed its gaping mouth right at me. The sight of the crisp yellow chips sitting in the bag waiting to be picked at was enough to rouse a lazy arm of mine out from the heavy covers, and I reached over to grab a piece. I reached and reached for the bag, but could only grasp at empty air. It was just too far. That pone, she had done that on purpose!

"Piper." I turned to see her having finished a bag of chips, savoring the flavor powder that dabbed thickly on her fingers.

She was really enjoying those snacks now, wasn't she? How quaint. "What is it now?"

"I can't reach my chips all the way from here. Could you nudge it closer?"

Following an exasperated sigh, she picked up and opened another other back of snacks. "Crane your back, you cacooned lout! I ain't moving another muscle at your behest."

Left to fend for myself I bent over and forward, pulling the chips up from atop the stroller to my lap. With the snack in comfortable and easy reach, I began munching away while mulling thoughts in the meantime.

In the absence of a proper breakfast, these processed cornflakes had done just fine. Meager yet fine. In the place of a queen-sized bed and covers I've never cared for, this cramped train seat and all these blankets kept me warm enough through the night. Quite cozy if I may add. In the stead of a thirty-inch flat screen TV, I pulled the blinds up some to soak in the view. Having just left the foot of the mountains, quaint Cyrilian farmland after another rolled by over the uneven and hilly landscape the railroad cut through. They had remained unchanged after all this time, even in the face of progress while also contributing to that very same progress. To it all roll by when came these trips of mine back to Cyril was a treat I always looked forward to. Most people I knew in Balfon hated travelling, whether it be on trains, boats, planes or whatever. They hated travelling outside their city, even in their own province, the ungrateful bunch. Even my parents, strangely enough, but they deserved some slack. On the other hand, I found it quite pleasurable. It was an experience unto itself every time I took this trip, a little ritual that had somehow grown on me. It was then I realized, in spite of my life changing over the lottery, I could survive with a lot less and be perfectly happy for it... Maybe that was why I kept coming back here.

Soon a humble cityscape peaked over the horizon, announcing our imminent arrival. My heart turned warm and fuzzy at the sight of it, the feeling manifesting outwardly as another stupid grin I couldn't contain. So much so I couldn’t help but want to share this with my companion, however off putting it would make me seem to her.

"Look, Piper, look! There it is!" I called with enthusiasm and pointed a finger across the hills over to my once home. Still a home in my heart. "Can you see it?"

Munching away on her third or fourth bag of snacks, she came up right to the window and whistled as she took in the sight. "Wow...so that's Cryril, huh?"

"Isn't it great? I mean it certainly is no Balfon...but I just can't help myself whenever I see it." A content sigh escaped me as I leaned on the window sill.

"Hmm, it is...a quaint-looking place, isn’t it?" She regarded the city in a mild enough impression.

It was a middling observation, though one I couldn’t help but agree with. It was what I honestly loved about the place. "It is very quaint, now that you mention it."

"It certainly isn't as majestic as Verdandiel or as grandiose as Garriene had been." What she had said tickled me strange. "It kind of looks filthy and shady like a cesspool, if I look closely at some nooks," she continued, nose high atop her head arced back and a deigning tone painting her words.

"Hey, wait a second here, don't go acting you can see it all the way from here!"

I quirked my head to see her stare back at me with playful eyes. Piper continued to peer over whatever detail her eyes could latch on, as if it had to adhere to her every taste. Oh... I saw where she was going with this. She just wanted to put me down for having seen better places! Rub it in, would she...

"In fact it looks way filthier than the once immaculate Salikawood, and even more reviling than the Tramdine Fens on the edge of the Graylands!" She loomed behind me while coyly taking hold of my shoulder.

"Be reasonable now, I don't even know where in the world those places are!" I nearly rose from my seat as she kept on riding my nerves.

"A dirtier seedier place than all the water-logged back tavern stalls I've had the displeasure of finding myself in!" Her grip on my shoulder tightened as her tone swooned in feigned distress. "Possibly more defiled than the fabled Stilshrine Necrohol of Aggripa!"

"Now you're just being silly. Quit pulling my leg now, will you?"

I jerked my shoulder away and buried myself in my blanketed sanctuary once more. For my apparently childish reaction, she loosed another chuckle. Ugh, this was getting annoying!

"Mmmm…though in all honesty, Connie, it looks absolutely..." Oh great, here it came. "Perfect--"

I literally burst out of my covers in an explosion, but even then Piper looked unfazed. "Yeah, yeah! I heard you the first time. It's not the best-looking place in the world and you’ve seen better! Can't I love it anyway because it's my hometown..."

When her words fully registered, I deflated sheepishly as she smirked at my double take. "Come again?"

"I said it was perfect." She turned back to the windowsill, resting a hand on it. Her riley attitude and that mischievous grin had gone and been replaced a pensive smile and wistful longing

"For all its faults and blemishes."

"Huh." So she was joking after all. “You really mean it?”

She stared at the approaching city, her eyes not breaking from it once as she answered back. "I hope I get to see it in person someday. The girls would have loved it."

There she said another thing that tickled me strange. She was being so weird today. "What do you mean, 'the girls'? We’re the only ones here. And you're on a train boarded for Cyril, silly. Of course you’re going to see it...in person...hmmm."

Wait just a minute.

Now that I cared to notice, something didn't quite fit together, a detail—no, details out of place. She had said so many strange things that didn’t make sense to me, and I had let them fly over my head just like that. And judging by that sly grin on her face as she snacked away, Piper seemed to know something. She was hiding something from me. Then suddenly took to a hearty chuckle, rattling me from my thoughts.

"Ohohohoho, slip of the tongue there. I'd better get this over with before Crocellia throws a fit!"

"Crocellia who? Piper, you aren't making any sense," I called out to her, the last of the blankets falling off from me. “In fact now that I think about it, you’ve not been making sense at—”

Without warning, a great tremor erupted, and the whole world shook for several brief seconds. In the time it took to settle down, the train had come to a grinding halt as I curled down to brace my seat in the event of a crash. I was at a loss for words, though my mind still had the nerve to complain as I scratched my head. 'God, what’s happening now? We're right in front of Cyril! There's so much for Piper to see...'

But when I looked out the window, a weight settled in my gut that threatened to sunder it like some frail sack. The city of Cyril was falling in, swallowed by a titanic maw that split open from the face of the earth. It was a scar that tore the very foundations of the city in two and propped it up as it jutted out in the air in cataclysmic proportions before swallowing it whole. My mind reeled over the simple act of even comprehending this disaster.

“W-what the hell just—“

I struggled to speak, but that was only the beginning.

As abruptly as the place I called home was taken from me, so too was my very bearing on reality. The train seat behind me was ripped away from its place by a vicious gust of wind. The calming blues of the cloudless sky and the lush greens the Cyrilian countryside fell to reveal a foreboding canvas of darkness that had always been there. And finally, the light from the sun was gone as if snuffed like a meager candle that flickered in the night. There I stood in the void, watching all of this unfold helplessly. But even more unsettling was that Piper was there, watching it all with a smile lost in wonder. Then her eyes turned to me. Softly those eyes, twisted in moonlight, fell upon me as I cowered and shrunk. And then with a chilling quality to her voice she spoke.

“But then again, very little time passes while we’re here like this,” she recalled in a hushed and calm as she swept her bangs away to get a better view.

She gazed out into the darkness seeing something I couldn’t and admiring it with all her being. Arms open wide, it was if she stood up to be enraptured by this unseen force that flew around us. I couldn’t fathom an inkling of her reasons at all. But the detail that struck me confusedly was the fact of her arm—the arm that was gone, her left arm that supposedly ended in a bandaged stump until just now. But now it was back as phantom of sorts, a lucent limb tinged in an ethereal hue. How in the world did she get it back… More importantly, how did I know that again? Piper had come with me on the train, and she always had that—AAAHH!!

My head! It stung… The pain pierced my skull and raced down my body like electricity. Unable to hold myself up any longer, I shrunk down and curled as it surged through me.

“We could stay here as much as we want and look at the beautiful moonlight, wouldn’t you agree, Connie? No one would be the wiser.” She loomed before my prostrated form and regarded me as a merciful god would an unknowing peon, her hand reaching out to offer whatever salvation she thought I needed. In a moment, our eyes connected. It was a spark...no, a worm that wriggled and slithered into my eyes. And then, past her head I could see it, a tiny wisp, fluttering and dancing. It zipped around and through my head, plucking ghosts of long forgotten scribbles from memories I didn't recall having. A shimmering bird rose gloriously from the ashes. With its wings it raised a crown high in the air. The wispy scrawls etched their shape into my mind. They trailed away into the empty void, and yet the further they flew, they more shone brightly with a hue that stood out magnificently in all the darkness. It was all beautiful…mesmerizing to behold…

“Yes…yes, we could stay…” I mumbled as I got up, my legs shaky at first.

Looking up, the wispy trail of moonlight remained, and I smiled at the thought of holding it in my hand, as would a child admire the butterflies they caught in a field. The dream flitted and danced just out of my reach, goading me to giving chase as a sudden impulse flared out in my legs. They showed me even more things. Things I would not normally know, things I could only hope to discover, and things beyond my mortal comprehension! Immaterial and value beyond measure, I could see all of eternity looping through every moment!

“Let’s stay... Let’s stay…” I ran with all my might, as fast as my legs could carry me with no intent of stopping. They began to weather, tear and decay, and after a while it seemed I was pushing myself forward on sheer force of will. It felt like I had been running for days, week now, maybe even years…

Eons…

“Let’s stay, Piper. Let’s stay…Let’s stay!” But nothing else mattered, only chasing that tiny thing that whispered in my ear and fluttered out of my grasp. My face grinned widely, and maniacally I blurted out the wants and temptations that took root in my heart.

“Let’s stay here, Piper! Let’s stay and chase that thing and make it ours!”

"Hmm, then again..." Piper's voice cut through the darkness in a sinister pitch.

“No!...” With a snap of her finger, the moonlight faded just before I could take hold of it. The end of its tail just slipped tantalizingly through my fingers. Apart from Piper who stood there in the void with me, I was alone without want. My heart sank. Everything lost meaning.

“No...no…no, no, no, no, no!” I broke down. Tears ran down the face of my soul for having lost sight of it. “How could you!? It was so beautiful…Why?”

I turned and was briefly stunned out from my sorrow to see her standing there. She was standing right where I had left her when I had started running. However, Piper saw things differently, taken by a bout of laughter as if she expected this to happen.

“Oh, goodness gracious, I’d almost forgotten! This place always gets me that way. Why would I expect it to be any different for you?” Apart from the fit of giggles she could barely contain, she was calm and composed. She was without loss of breath, as if she had followed me all this time without even taking one step…or had I been mindlessly chasing that thing, running dreamily whilst anchored to the same spot all this time? She approached me slowly. “Now, now. We mustn’t tarry, lest we let that blasted princess get ahead of us.”

“What are you talking about…what princess!? W-what… What about that thing!?” In my cascading confusion, I seethed angrily and clutched my head tightly. All the strands in my mind were fraying and it turned agonizing to even think! Had I still hair to pull I would have pulled all of it—AAAHH!! I looked to my hand and saw the bloody lock of hair that I had plucked from me head…

The grips of my sanity were slipping in their hold. “Nothing’s making sense anymore!”

Another bout of sinister laughter took over Piper as the void half swallowed her from the feet up. “It’s funny you should say that, love.”

When it had swallowed her completely, her eyes gleamed from far above. Each of her eyes was as large as a moon, and they spied over the minutia of my every action. They were pure and immaculate, the same hue as those wisps of moonlight that danced around so tantalizingly and dredged dusty memories from my head. As sharp as the slitted irises that cut across its pupils, those eyes seared me with the gaze of its deranged light. I whimpered as my entire body flaked and molted. Suddenly I was no longer human, the hooves in front of me making it plain to see. My shed form was laid around me as a pile of ash-like snow, and when an ethereal wind flew past for a quick gander, the ashes scattered into its breeze. But before it left, it circled me as a shimmering mirror, briefly showing me for what I was. A small snowy pony with steel grey hair and blue eyes that glistened with the moonlight. But somehow that didn’t surprise me…I already knew this.

Piper’s body was gone but her voice remained. Her laughter rang out continuously and maniacally as that all had happened. “Nothing make sense? Oh dear, me...hahahahahaha!! So nothing makes sense, eh? If only you could focus in on what truly mattered in your meager existence, then everything would make sense!”

At the sound of her ongoing laughter, chains darted out from the dark and latched onto my wrists and ankles. I tried pulling myself free but to no avail. They were too tight, and simply trying to slide my digitless hooves out of them caused even more pain. When the pain became too much for me to try anymore, the chains began pulling back slowly, the sound of some hidden crank reeling them in. Without warning, the ground beneath me gave way and I fell. I screamed for my life and flailed for the slightest chance of finding some unseen purchase that stuck out from the void. Then chains yanked on my limbs as they went taut. The pain from having limbs nearly pulled from their sockets took me for the shock of my life. I was nearly unconscious. Though I wish I had been, because it seemed this wasn’t the end of it yet. The unseen crank now lowered me down till I touched to a smooth flat surface below. It was cold and made of metal. Then the pair of moon eyes high above me blinked away as they were close by a blackened lid.

Exhausted and in agony beyond my wildest nightmares, I was listless and unmoving as a chorus of clattering metal and hushed voices moved around me in the dark. Their whispers and murmurs seemed to go on forever, and in the meantime, I caught my breath. To my terror, it seemed I would be screaming yet again all the way through. Blinding spotlights flared and caught me off guard. Moments later, the haze in my vision cleared, and I was met by a line of men in white, their faces hidden behind divisive masks and thick refracting glasses. The spotlights illuminated the area as most of them carried notepads and pens, while a pair at the lead sported a cruel and jagged scalpel in each hand.

Then the realization dawned on me. I was in an operating theatre, and I was the subject of their dissection. A bolt of fear struck me like never before.

“God, NO! Let go of me, you crazy bunch of--!” It was all I could manage before one of the cold assistants gagged my mouth with a drenched piece of cloth and pinned my head to the table. A needle was inserted into my arm, and the sedatives they pumped into my veins immediately took effect. Quickly getting to work, the surgeons started with a clean nick on my belly that opened up by the finesse of their skill. They pried my insides to a bloody open and leafed through its layers like some grotesque book. Even though my nerves had been numbed, I shuddered continuously as they carved me out like a husk. For every new discrepancy of my innards, they penned careful detail to paper so as not to forget. Their eyes were indifferent and calculating, regarding me as an object rather than the weeping eyes on my face that pleaded for them to stop with every fiber of my soul. There was no reaching out to them and I could only watch in horror as they toyed with my insides. It was when the assistants took hold of my intestines and yanked them out from cavity in my gaping abdomen that something about them all changed. In the process of extracting the organ out, they had torn its length in two. There was something significant about the spray of bile and blood, and the trickles of it splattering on the cold metal table that gave them some twisted kind of pleasure. Whatever they were looking for, it made them to grin from ear to ear, their yellow and plaqued teeth showing past the sterile masks covering their mouths, as if every drop split was an evident step towards the biomedical discovery of the century. They laughed and they giggled for every drop and went on working with intensified zeal. The blood that yet remained in my veins curdled, and even the splatters on the table managed to writhe with me as well. The curdling sanguine fluid sizzled and screamed for me where my voice was lost. The surgeons and assistants were ecstatic, laughing and reveling in my woe.

“Should you really be screaming now, love? This is only the beginning!" Words echoed above the laughter over the static tone of old speakers. Even in my sedated state, I recognized that voice. Past the anesthesia my skin crawled for the utter cruelty.

There above the operating theater, Piper looked down from behind the windowed viewing booth, her eyes cruel and slitted like the moon had been. She was eating a bag of clover chips leisurely, scarfing down bag after bag of chips with indulgent caricatured churns of her jaw. She watched giddily as the surgeons steadied my head and seared my eyes with a molten brand that burned its impression into my eyes and boiled my tears away. The pain was enough to make me to scream past the anesthesia. And I would have gone on screaming too, were it not for the surgeons reaching my lungs. It was out and bare now, steaming on the table, leaving me literally out of breath.

“You know what else doesn't make sense?” It was too much for me to bear and my head fell back to the table with a thud. Terror took me in a vice-grip as the last thing I saw before my vision gave was Piper, high up the viewing booth, cackling with a maniacal look on her face and fingers dabbed in processed cheese.

"A pony that can talk!"

...

...

...

...

...

...

"No!!"

The echoes of my voice leapt and bounded about darkened confines of the cavern. Startled and frightened, I shot up past the covers.

“Connie?” Agatha inquired over a yawn, my volume and now ragged breathing having alerted her and roused her from sleep.

Her voice was muffled and distant, as if she spoke from across a wall of fog. Or that it simply seemed soft-spoken because she had just woken up herself. Had I not recognized her, I would have turned paranoid for thinking that I was starting to hear ghosts whisper or voices that weren’t there. But I did recognize her voice, and it brought me some relief. Though I didn’t answer her yet…I couldn’t. I was disturbed, unhinged. That nightmare and the things I had seen…they were but wisps in a dense haze that began to fizzle out in the doldrums of the dark. I struck my hooves to my head in an attempt to distract myself, to forget it all. Yet even as I was forgetting, I was afraid for having seen them at all. Their fading visage sent a shiver down my spine. It made me shudder and tremble uncontrollably, even when it was not…wait, it was cold.

In fact, it was freezing! Involuntarily my teeth chattered and my fur stood on ends. With sheer tenacity, a biting cold gnawed through my coat and the comforter that should have seen to the contrary. I wrapped my arms around myself like a vice and stroked my barrel to keep warm. How could Agatha just sit there so calmly when the temp was this unbearable?

“Connie, is that your teeth chattering? Is something wrong?” She leaned over to get a better feel of me in this darkness, reaching a hoof to my head. She was so close I could almost see her face. But her doting presence felt overbearing, for which I pulled away.

“I’m fine, Aggie,” I replied, shivering and chattering all the while. “It’s just so cold in here. Could it be because we’re underground? Why aren’t you cold!?” At first I was genuinely curious for the trivial matter of cave climate, but my tone turned annoyed when it was apparent she didn’t share my discomfort.

“It is kind of cold, but not enough to get me shivering, I think,” she observed quite plainly, her hand leaving my forehead. “Are you all right?”

“Of course, I’m all right. What’s a little freezing temp at this time of night?” That haughty front I put was meant to bolster my resolve and hide my weakness in front of Agatha. Though behind it, I wanted to collapse and curl into a shivering ball. “We’re here to have an adventure and save Mergo, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are, Connie. And I’m glad you’re so focused, but,” she answered back a bit concerned, trailing off for a moment. She fumbled about her person in the dark, and soon enough a dim light shone from a box surface as she brought her phone to my attention. “It’s three in the afternoon.”

My momentary loss of bearings confused me for a spell. “So I was off with the time. Sue me. But seeing how deep we’re in, I don’t think a cave would about temp on the outside.”

Agatha took another moment to leaf through my words before answering. “I guess you’re right. That was a bad comparison, but still it’s strange for you to be shivering like this.” She pointed the phone at me, and its soft glow somewhat caught in my eye. Not that it was unbearable, but it did make it difficult to look past its light and see her face, even at such a dim brightness. Somehow the chill turned slightly more so for the icing on my discomfort.

“I’m mean, you did bring us some blankets in a spur of the moment decision. And it is a little brisk, but nothing to be shivering at. Look at Kirk! He’s sleeping like a log.”

She directed the soft glow over our friend whose limbs sprawled and spread haphazardly. Snoring loudly all the while—now that I noticed, a wing and a leg of his twitched for the slight disturbance, but even for what covers he forewent, he slumbered on without a care in the world. Lucky dolt. He could sleep through an earthquake if he wanted… Oh… Tch, whatever, it didn’t change the fact that I was freezing.

“For the last time, Aggie, I’m fine. I’ll deal with this somehow—GAAAAH!!”

Ooooh…my head… A sharp pain flared out from nowhere… Ugh, I’d been having a lot of headaches lately, though I couldn’t remember why.

“Connie, what’s wrong?” Agatha quickly rose to her feet. She fumbled around for the flashlight that was beside Kirk, illuminating the cave with its brighter glare in the flick of its switch. “Kirk, wake up!”

“Ow!” Kirk yelled, having been conked on the head with a thud. “What…Agatha? Where’s the fire?”

Distress painted her tone as she directed Kirk’s attention to me with the light. “No fire, and something’s wrong with Connie. She said she’s cold as ice!”

Curled up and prone in front of them, the glare of its light shined in my eyes, causing the pain to increase two fold. I tried to reach for the flashlight in held between Agatha’s hooves and turn it away, but it was too far. The more its spotlight shone on my face, the more my senses spun and turned nauseating. There words fell on practically deaf ears, and I was starting to see double of them. All they did was banter back and forth while my vision swam even more cloyingly. What made it all worse was that the air bit down more cruelly with fangs of ice that only I could feel, for which I shivered terribly. Now wheezing seething mess myself, tears ran down my face for the excruciating pain as i shut my eyes tight and they worked around me. Murmurs were passed back and forth as they lifted my feet and placed my stroller beneath it. I felt a billow of air pass as they settled all the blankets over me. And lastly, Agatha propped my head over her flank. I dared to open my eyes in spite of the pain and I saw them arguing. My two friends looked to each other and exchanged concerned glances, not really knowing what else to do. Their faces were obscured, partially lit by the flashlight, and their mouths flapped open and closed as they bickered back and forth over what to do next, still essentially hesitating. I could barely move, delirious as I was. They resorted to craning my head up and cooing me with placating words, however muffled their voices sounded to me.

"Connie, can you hear me?" Agatha asked, he face sweating bullets in her worry.

I nodded in response. It was all I could do.

"That's good. That's good," she said with a deep breath. She lifted me up from her flank and propped me up to lean over her chest. Thanks to this fever, I was limp as a ragdoll which only put more burden on Agatha, and I cursed myself for having gotten sick at all, the first thing to ever happen to me in our adventure. "Kirk, hurry it up, will you?"

"I'm trying, Agatha, but it's not easy opening a bottle with hooves!"

"Just bite the cap off, then!"

Whatever illness beset me hit fever pitch. I was numb and couldn't even feel myself shiver anymore. Eyes and ears were all that remained yet even then, my vision narrowed into a tunnel and thick clouds corked my hearing. I was scared. "Aggie...Kirk...am I dying?"

"Kirk, the bottle, now!!"

Urgency impelled him to chomp down on the decidedly distasteful plastic. He twisted his head sharply, tearing the top of the bottle off which he then spat away. Shaky hooves took hold of the bottle and balanced it before me to keep its contents from spilling. Both Agatha and Kirk leaned in as they consoled me. I couldn't tell who was talking anymore.

"No one's dying on my watch, Connie!"

The light touched their faces as they neared.

"It's going to be alright, Connie. Just drink this." The jagged mouth of the bottle was lowered to my lips.

...

Their eyes shone...they glimmered in moonlight...

...

...

...

"GET AWAY FROM ME!!!"

The bottle of water flew up in an arc and fell on the ground. Its contents spilled over yet no one paid it mind. My voice boomed into the cavern as I thrashed and flailed in their hold. Yet even then their arms tightened around me like a vice to keep me down.

"Connie! Connie! What's wrong!?" The thing with Agatha's face spoke as she held me by my neck, coating words in false concern.

The brute that wore Kirk's face was too tough to overcome, as he used both wings and hooves to pin me down with the certainty of his weight. Still I had to try if I wanted to escape. I threw my hooves about mindlessly, not caring where they hit and doubling my efforts when they hit anything at all. I didn't care, so long as I would be free. "Whoa Nelly! It's like she's possessed!"

"My name's Connie, and it's you two who are possessed!"

As I struggled, my eyes met theirs without ever breaking contact. I could see it in their eyes! "You're not my friends! You're not Agatha, and you're not Kirk!" They exchanged confused glances all the while pinning me down.

"I know what you two are trying to pull! You both want me to fall asleep so you can put me back on that table, and then those guys with the knives can come in, cut me open and pry through my insides! Get all my blood gushing out of me!" Their hold continued to tighten the more I flailed, shrilled and growled.

"This isn't real and you're just both part of this nightmare! I won't let you or Piper fool me anymore!"

The brute in front steadied my head and forced me to look at him. "This is real, Connie! Who else could it be?" The seamless way the nightmare grafted Kirk's face on to him was so perfect and nearly indiscernible, it was disgusting to look at. So I spat at his face to distract him.

“Yuck!! Seriously? This whole fiasco turns you into an animal and you start acting like one too—“

“Kirk, don’t you let up on me!” The Agatha impostor griped me tenaciously from behind. Were it not for her, I would have thrown that Kirk impostor off balance, and I would have been free by now! Her hold doubled as the Kirk impostor reassumed his position. "Just calm down and listen, will you!?”

She took hold of my face and forced me to look at her straight in the eyes. “Look at me, Connie! It’s us! We’re here and we are real! We're not the nightmare!"

Their eyes glinted in that sinister moonlight hue, I had to get away before it was too late!

"You're lying! You're lying! You're lying! You--"

A hoof landed across my face and gave me a good wallop. "Kirk, what was that for!?"

My cheek flushed red for the impact and I turned to putty in their hold. I was nearly out of it, though skirting the line of the waking world and unconsciousness, I felt no emotion… I was…reset. "She was getting out of hand! At least it seems I've knocked out whatever crazy had hold of her." They eased upon their grip and laid me down on the ground. "Here, put her up on the wall."

The haze in my vision cleared and focused in, and my hearing perked for the lack of impediment when their words registered vividly in my ears. "Connie! Connie, it's us!" Agatha called out. Her face was soaked in a flash sweat of worry, more than relieved to see me finally calmed down.

"Maybe being away from the Balfon sun triggered some sort of withdrawal. Could she have been taking something when she was there?" Kirk offered his explanation partly as a joke.

"Oh, shush you!" He was scolded for the inappropriate jab, and their attention returned to me. "Connie, it's us! Agatha and Kirk... Are you okay?"

Tears welled in my eyes both in relief for their presence and regret for having caused them grief. It was them, my honest to goodness best friends! "Aggie...Kirk..." At my lucid response, their faces brightened into warm smiles that welcomed me back.

"Thank heavens! Connie, you're fine!" Aggie rejoiced as she took me into an embrace.

On the other hand, Kirk doubled over on his rump and sighed all of his worries on the matter away. His sights fell on the thrown bottle of water that barely held anything. He picked it up and finished it, less than a third of a glass. "She better be fine. We only have two bottles left."

“Kirk…Aggie…ugh, I’m so sorry!” In her arms, I broke into tears unable to hold my emotions back any longer. Agatha herself broke into tears of joy as we took solace in each other’s presence. "I'm so sorry, but I was so scared. I was so scared of that nightmare!"

"Oh, Connie, you must have been holding back all that stress. Please don't bottle it up like that again. We're your friends, and we're here for you. Like you're here for me."

"I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry..." Exhaustion fell heavy over my shoulders and my body slumped over into Agatha.

"Kirk, could you please keep watch?" She spoke past her tears, her request causing Kirk sigh tiredly.

"Sure thing," he answered and the lights promptly went out.

"There, there, Connie. At least your fever is gone," Aggie cooed into my ear as she hummed a lullaby and rocked me in her arms. "It's alright now. So just sleep, and we'll talk about everything in the morning. We'll even decide on codenames like you wanted. In fact, that's the first thing we'll do when you wake up."

I opened my mouth to answer, but all I could manage was a yawn. Still I'd like that... I'd like that very much...

My senses turned inert to rest with me, though as I fell back to the familiar touch of sleep's soft embrace--ever the cold and gentle place that awaited us all--I couldn't help but listen in listlessly before they joined me.

"We sure have been sleeping a lot, haven't we?" Kirk wondered, the flashlight clinking along in his grasp.

"I supposed we have, but it can't be helped…" Agatha hummed in thought. Her voice twinged nonplussed at ridiculous possibility that had just dawned on her. “First me, then Connie… Don’t tell me you’re going throw a fit, too!?”

"Who, me? No way!" Kirk replied without missing a beat, decidedly nonplussed

...

...

“Anyway, who's Piper?"

Author's Note

[083017]

* Terrible timing. So many things came up this month I've been constantly coming home at 6pm, and that's the time I usually start winding down. At least for me, 3-4 hours isn't enough time for me to write. That or I have to get used to this schedule... god.

*Anywho, this could very well be the smallest chapter apart from the prologue, and I had planned for some parts featuring Levy and Ponyville in between. But over all the delays, I felt that I've been working on this chapter long enough. It maybe kinda incomplete compared to want I originally wanted included in this update, but I've hammered things down enough to be sure things are all set where they need to be story-wise. So I'll take that in consolation.

*As per every chapter, I'll be dropping in to do some editing, but I'm mostly certain there won't be big changes. Also I'll be reorganizing my notes and outline, as well as looking into details for later chapters further down the line. ETA for next chapter should be 2 weeks... Hopefully. :applejackconfused:

Chapter 2 - Nothing Too Grand

"Nothing too lengthy either," Mergo reckoned while sipping on a mango smoothie. " And definitely nothing too frivolous. On the other hand, anything too mellow would be a total killjoy. It has to be somewhere in the middle. That is a must."

The words rolled off her tongue, one by one each painting her mouth a boring splotch of gray. They had been talking about the same two or three things since we got here. Though it wouldn't be far-fetched to say that it had been just that one long conversation all along, only they were repeating the sentiments in different synonyms. If she had a dictionary handy on her, there was no telling how long this conversation could go on for. Was this how things were done in the west? If so they certainly knew how to keep things in a predictable loop. How did Mergo know about all this?

In any case, the afternoon's itinerary had stuck to that mundane criteria, but all their chatter was getting too much to bear.

"You know, that's exactly what I've been telling Gria and Monty." Connie on the other hand was absolutely buying into what she said. Their exchange was so lively and level grounded, one could track and invest in the economics of their conversation with certainty of predictably boring prospects. "Balfon folk can get intense when they want to party. Even just trying to get them to peg things down an notch is enough to make them whine and grumble. But god forbid if Cyrilians get rough and tumble at all. I've come back to visit thrice now since I moved, and it's always an uphill battle getting just these two to loosen up!"

While I settled for a subtle roll of the eyes from my quiet corner of the table, Kirk couldn't help but toss a few indignant words into their conversation under the guise of a playful prod. "Excuse me? So we're not good enough for you now, eh?"

"No offense, Kirk, but your idea of fun is about as run-of-the-mill as anyone's in our old class can get," Connie explained quite bluntly. "And as good anyone can get in video games and sword arts, you can't expect me or Aggie to be as invested in it as you. It's pretty much your thing, ya?"

At the mention of my name, he shot a puzzled glance at me. "I'm with her on this one, Kirk. Sorry," I apologized whilst fidgeting with my own chunky smoothie. The point was valid. His annoyance was palpable.

Kirk merely huffed at the sight of his triple deluxe sundae which had finally come in after nearly twenty minutes of waiting. With an eager spoon in hand, the thought of digging into it simmered him down some. "Hey I can totally respect that, but I'd thought you guys would appreciate me being not as stuck up as my jock seniors. It is the school's number one sport. At least you could drop on me once in awhile during practice, Agatha."

And not one minute after they talked about not being frivolous too. Kirk hadn't been following their conversation at all. But just because I care enough to listen in still doesn't mean I wanted in on it. However, I digress. "And risk rumors spreading around school? I love you like the brother I never had, Kirk, but that's a line right there, clear and defined. We three know about that all too well." It was apparent in my tone who those three exactly were.

"Well you should stop worrying about that stuff, Kirk." And there Mergo chimed in, feeling somewhat left out. I had forgotten that she used to be like this, so seeing this side of her had put me off in a mix of fresh and strange. "The key to destressing on all that is you gotta be more inclusive with your plans, and open up. Maybe give sports and videogames a break for a while, learn a little from Balfon folk and be a group guy? Maybe follow Connie's example?"

"You know what? This girl gets me," Connie chuckled and brought her glass to Mergo. "Cheers!"

"Cheers!" Mergo said, clinking her own glass in return.

I can't believe how close these two got in one afternoon. Having rounded themselves in more general chatter, Kirk leaned in to whisper while scooping up the cookie that was buried in his sundae, echoing the reminder that came to me in his own query. "Since when did Mergo become this talkative?"

Taking a bit of time to finish my own drink, I took a napkin to tidy myself before returning a response in my own hushed voice. "She's always been like this, dummy. Even before the accident. It's just she spends so much time alone cooped up in that cottage of hers. I won't go on prying how she found closure. She'll be joining us in school next semester, so it's about time she picked herself up. That's all that matters"

"You really care about Mergo, don't you," Kirk stoically observed, keeping mum thereafter. At least he noticed that I didn't want any more talk of the past when she was around. Part of what I said was a lie though, and I couldn't help but think back to recent events.

Several hours earlier, I had wheeled Mergo from the back of the cottage to introduce her to Connie. Kirk she had already met when she moved here, and they got along as well as any newly acquainted folk did. Aloofly. But as for her and Connie, they pretty much connected right off the bat, albeit one minor hitch.

"Hey guys, we're back," I called as we rounded the bend and passed the shed. Coming to a squeaky stop, I began with the introductions. "Connie, this Mergo, my cousin. Mergo, meet Connie."

Kirk and I bore the same awkward expression as it was plain to see that Connie wasn't taking this as well as we thought she would. "Oh...hey, nice to meet you. Like Aggie said, I'm Connie." Quite an aloof response from someone who just came from Balfon.

"And I'm Mergo," she introduced herself with a smile and open hand. Connie only deigned to give Mergo a nod and so-so smile of her own before she turned away disinterested. Not wanting to be stood up at first impressions, Mergo nudged me to cart her over to Connie and let her finish her introduction properly.

Connie stopped short of entering the car as I wheeled Mergo and myself between her and the door. "And it's nice to meet you too!" Mergo offered a handshake, though the kind gesture was almost lost behind the pain of me accidentally running over Connie's foot. For that unintentional sabotage, Mergo shot me a scowl.

"Oh, so sorry about that, Connie!"

I could tell from her restrained expression that in spite of the apology, she was even more put off now. "No worries. It's nothing too serious that I can't walk off.

Our brief eye contact allowed me to signal my own cues. So in spite of my hiccup Connie was gracious enough to pay it no mind and go along with things for now, albeit she did so begrudgingly. So she took Mergo's hand to which they shook heartily. "Well you can thank Agatha for setting us off on the wrong foot there. Not that I have feet but I hope we can get along anyway."

"Was that a lame person jab? That's pretty level of you. People in Balfon love to play victim," Connie shrugged as she broke the handshake, flexing her fingers at Mergo's grip. "I guess we're cool so long as you don't drag things down."

"With a lackey like her around, you should be worried about me getting ahead," Mergo egregiously claimed with a thumb pointing back at me.

"Excuse me?"

"So don't go counting me so infirm right off the bat. I can keep up, cross my heart." She etched a cross over her chest. It was signature gesture Aunt Bronagh had instilled in her long ago, and its motions now lined up with the scar that sucked under her shirt. I see she still kept that story close to her heart.

Connie at first said nothing, keeping a stalwart front before the handicapped resolve. Then she smiled genuinely and returned a hearty chuckle. "You know I hate to admit it, but I'm starting to like you already."

In spite of the rocky start, it seemed things would be going smoothly. And over the course of the afternoon, things did go smoothly. We had watched a movie, gone shopping, and pretty much all the schtick of a totally loose and not run-of-the-mill day out on the town... Yeah right, these were all completely run-of-the-mill hangout stuff. Still I had to hand it to Connie. She did bring Mergo out of her shell, or at least welcomed her out of it. I couldn't be more thankful to her and Kirk for having my back on this.

Mind came back to present time, and it was time to leave. We strode easy-going steps on our way out of the mall, passing late day mall goers intent on enjoying the coming nightlife. Having staved off peckish pangs with a little more than light snacks, the brisk night greeted us with a cool embrace as we exited the mall. Kirk felt somewhat dozed owing that to the sundae he just ate, so he asked me to drive. While I hadn't gotten all my hours in for my student license, I was confident enough to fill in for him this one time. The way back had been the farthest from congested and my nerves were thankful for it as it had helped the drive come along quickly.

Now the sun had just dipped beneath the horizon by the time we arrived at the cottage. Setting Mergo carefully in her wheelchair, I was just about to drop her off for the night. But Connie had different plans.

"Hah, I'm beat!" She yelled as we entered the cottage. Plopping down on the couch, she let her stroller come to a clattering halt, letting it topple over.

"Hey, I thought you were staying at my place?" I asked while flipping some switches on. After taking stock of the place, she gave it a salutatory whistle and lost track of my question in favor of her own train of thought.

The lights flickered to life and drew back the dark curtain over the cottage's rustic interior, revealing its largely one story design. That is, save for the short flight of stairs leading up to an overlooking second floor, and the ritzy bedroom-bathroom combo it afforded. Since having been left to my parents, they, my mother in particular, still kept diligently to its maintenance and cleaning. Needless to say, Mergo couldn't make use of anything higher than a step up the stairs. So apart from monthly cleanings which was due some time soon, a good layer of dust should have settled there by now. Connie had other ideas though, judging by that glint in her eye.

"I am so envious right now," she got up in spite of her apparent tiredness. "So you have this place to yourself?"

Mergo answered after coming out from the bathroom. "Yeah I do. Though I do get Agatha dropping by regularly to keep an eye on me. Other times it's Uncle Jerry and Aunt Licia, and on occasion it's Uncle Davis and some guys from the NWA."

"So Connie," I yelled, snapping her out of her daze. "What's the plan?"

"Ah, well, I was thinking that I want to stay here for a change. I've been to your place so many times already, you know. So this place is like a breath of fresh air." Seeing her pirouette out of nowhere, my house's eggshell walls suddenly came off as stale compared to this place, now that I thought about it.

"You know what, Connie, a sleepover does sound good right about now," Kirk butted in after securing his car. "You locked your place up good, right Agatha? I could just message my folks that I'd be staying over."

He probably did have a set of spare clothes in the trunk for practice. And I could probably wear some of Mergo's clothes on loan. Some of them were hand-me-downs from myself, after all.

"Alright, Kirk. Taking a few tips from yours truly now, aren't we?" Connie cheered. He only chuckled and shook his head dismissively.

"And you know what would make things even more fresh? Some pipin' hot spaghetti," Mergo chimed in, wheeling herself to the kitchen. Connie and Kirk hollered in glee at the thought of more food. "Come on, Agatha. You missed your chance to make me some home-cooked goodness back at lunch. With everyone here, now's the perfect time to make good on that promise."

At this point, I just wanted to get back to bed and fall asleep. But amidst their optimistic rhythm, I just couldn't dour down on their suggestions and good vibes.

"Ugh, fine." If I could rotate my head a full circle I would. "Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, fine!"

I followed her to the kitchen while Connie and Kirk opened up the utility closet in search of cleaning implements, intent on tidying the second floor. Over the din of their laughter and conversation, pots and pans clanged in the kitchen as Mergo and I slaved away. Over on one stove simmered a stew of limping noodles and in another sizzled a robust zest of seasoned meats in a light sauce. As I pulled a bowl of churned tomatoes from the fridge, I couldn't help but notice how much else she had prepared for this night. A double six pack of ginger ale, and a bunch pudding and yogurt tucked away in the corner as well as two tubs of ice cream sitting in the freezer. Did she see this coming? She certainly didn't know Connie was coming.

"Hey, Mergo. How did you get all this stuff ready?"

She gave me some mind while tending to the spaghetti with a ladle. "Davis and friends, who else? I've had them help me with chores since you got busy with finals. And it's been awhile since your parents dropped in on me."

That explanation sufficed for the moment, so I returned to cooking. Though as I did so, I couldn't help feel that I was missing something here. Nevertheless I went on and thought it was about time to set the table. Carrying a set of plates, spoons and forks in my arms, I was surprised to see that Connie and Kirk settled by the TV, already finished with cleaning and laughing it out on a comedy flick they happened to stumble upon. Seems like one of those chores she had the NWA do included sprucing the upstairs.

"Not just a dullard, but a bona fide princess too," I muttered under breath while setting the table.

From there it wasn't long before we were all enjoying a nice impromptu dinner. Teens enjoying steamy spaghetti with a side of stroganoff while the TV clamored in the background. It was a hearty picture, and I was proud that we had been raised well enough to come to this scene ourselves. It didn't take long for us to clean the food out though. Kirk in particular didn't want to waste any of it, scraping morsels off the serving plates with a spoon for the most part and an obstinate finger for the corners.

"Today was so much fun," Connie commented with a belly in slight distention. Something we all shared tonight. She twirled the last of her spaghetti in her fork before finally downing it and going on. "If only I hadn't moved so far away, we could do this more often."

"It sounds like you're regretting your family winning the lottery. I thought you love it over there?" I challenged.

"I do love it and it is a pretty great place, no doubt about that. But you know what they say, Cyril at home and Cyril at heart." I was right all along. Balfonheim just couldn't get her to bend. But seeing Connie fidget with her thumbs and a mischievous smirk, I couldn't help but feel she had something else to add. Unable to hold her glee, she announced so ceremoniously. "Which is why I'm happy to say, I'm coming back for the remainder of high school!"

That meant two more years. Connie was here to stay.

"Hah, Agatha. Are you crying?" Kirk called up with a smile on his face. I couldn't tell if he was mocking me or honest-to-goodness happy himself. Likely it was half of both, but it annoyed me nonetheless.

"No, I am not crying. I just have something in my eye." It was just a couple of tears, but I'd be damned before I admitted that to him. Wordlessly Connie approached and pulled me into a hug. I remembered being the saddest I had ever been that day she moved away. I was just so happy to have my best friend back.

In a glance to the side, I saw Mergo with a ghost of a smile on her own face.

With dinner all but wound down, it was time to hit the hay. Though when Mergo did volunteer to clean up first, everyone else just dove in as well. Still being guests in the house, Mergo and I were able to convince our visitors otherwise. Pillows and blankets were distributed, and with a belch and a yawn, Connie and Kirk retired to their quarters, the former sleeping in the second floor and the latter settling in the couch nearby. Though it was barely large enough for his stature, he didn't mind the meagre accommodation all that much. But having opted to help Mergo tidy things up before going to bed, the real chore for us here would be suffering through all his snoring.

We had split the load between us, Mergo tending to the stove and cooking utensils while I saw to the cutlery, dish work and table. In spite of all the racket his snoring caused, I couldn't help but appreciate the static backdrop Kirk provided as I fell to introspection as I went along cleaning. Kinda like Chocotunes when he was driving.

Today's prospects had been initially dim in my mind. Not a week earlier, I could recall Mergo hollowly giving into my parent's persuasions for a change to finally come to school. Four weeks she had been here in this dinky cottage alone, with either me, my parent's or the NWA dropping by to check on her. It was an unorthodox arrangement for one so young and often tossed around between foster families, but I wasn't one to judge laws I didn't render nor cared to fully understand. In any case, a month of relative loneliness was a long time for anyone, and I couldn't imagine what sort of thoughts she had come to ruminate or fester on. The sudden accident on the mountain trail they took had changed her life, and while I had a heart to bleed for her predicament, I in no way could pretend to know what emotions and stresses she was going through alone. Not that my parents or I wanted to leave her there to her own devices, but that's how she wanted things to be... So silently she went about and managed herself in this cottage for all this time, just as she wordlessly combed the stove of crumbs and morsels with a fine cloth rag. In the same fashion she saw to the dishes I happened to neglect, stowing them back in the cupboard while I fell deeper into thought.

"Oh I'm sorry about that, Mergo," I apologized when I finally snapped out of it. Not that I knew of her past experiences in foster homes, but considering she had managed herself alone most of the time, she was doing surprisingly well in reaching for the cupboard with plates in tow. Still I couldn't help but worry, so I wrested the plates from her before her stubs could slip from under her by chance, and set them safely in the cupboard.

"Why apologize?" She replied with a chuckle. "You have your best friend back and she's spending the rest of her school days closer to you. If I were you I'd be too busy grinning ear to ear to care about cleaning. I'm surprised you even offered to help anyway."

"I know, and I am happy for it all. And you know what else I'm happy for?"

"What's that?"

"You joining us." She stopped short of closing the tap as I went on. Drops of water drowned out Kirk's snores turned light as he dreamed away on his couch wonderland, but none more so louder than my own words as I poured my heart out to reach out to Mergo. "It's still a bit off in the future, but you'll be coming back to school. Getting back into the rhythm, you've made a lot of progress. Now I can't pretend to know what you've been through these past six years, but you shouldn't have wheeled away on us just now."

I stepped before her, face to face and held her hands tight. "I want all my best friends with me."

She tightly gripped the handle and turned the tap shut. "I won't say I'm sorry, and I can't promise anything. We'll just have to see what happens from here on."

"Come on, Mergo. You don't have to be so-"

Her wheelchair squeaked as she stood up in her seat and met me eye to eye. "No more words, Aggie. Only the road ahead of us."

There it was, her mischievous and playful side. The face of the little girl who called me to join her in escapades to the forest. A side of her I thought had drowned in tragedy. Deep in my heart I wanted to hold her tight, cry out and say my first best friend had returned to me this day as well. Chalk another blessing on me this day. But there was a wistful glint in her eye, and it told me it wasn't quite so just yet. So I stifled myself and kept mum.

Hmm...what was this feeling, déjà vu?

"Hah, well. Looks like cleaning is done, and in record time too!" She proudly concluded. "Sure the NWA have the muscle and shove, but chore-wise, nothing beats the power of friendship. Am I right, Aggie?"

"Heh, right." I stopped to admire our work. And all in half an hour, too.

Washing our hands in summary, we made for the spacious ground floor guest bedroom, which boasted enough space for two beds, one Mergo had chose to occupy when she moved in and the other left vacant on for me. We brushed our teeth and I helped her tuck into bed.

"G'night, Aggie."

"Sleep tight, Mergo."

All in all, it was a pretty great day... wasn't it?

My eyes fluttered open and there the darkness greeted me.

Hahahaha...my, my, wasn't this getting a cliche now? Darkness, darkness, darkness! Everything in darkness! Make darkness great again! The passing jest lodged a chuckle in my throat, but the chuckle also brought to my attention a pain. A distant and fleeting sensation that only became less so the more I paid it no mind.

There was a darkness around me, and at its familiar presence, a sentiment roused unbidden, one that was particularly nostalgic and deep rooted within my memory. I turned from the pain toward that peacefulness and its deep seas cradled me. The lull and serenity would have to wait, however. Waves of excruciating pain and nausea seared into the forefront of my mind, and with them came an all too sobering wakefulness as my eyes adjusted to the dry afternoon air. Out from slumber's embrace, my chest rose and fell more rapidly at the radiating sensation. I half expected someone to be here by my side, but the other half was right. I was alone.

My barrel ached as if the depths of a great lake weighed upon it. Limbs stuck out limply at the enervation of a hundred-mile gallop. And a migraine the likes of which I had never known wracked my head relentlessly. From my prone form, I brought hooves to bear my aching head, but the motions only increased the pain two folds. In my agony I let out a low scream that came out diminished and defeated. The act irritated my arid throat even more and caused pained heaves in my breathing, which only brought about more pain. With but a spare sliver of thought I entertained the notion of this circuitous startup being somewhat hilarious, as such thoughts tended to amuse me in the strangest times. Were it not for the extreme discomfort, I would have chuckled even more at my own predicament and filled the silence of the forest with raucous laughter. But all of my mind focused on the unpleasantness wholly, body reeling and teeth gnashing all the while.

Seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into hours, but for one in considerable pain such as I was, the ordeal felt as constant as existence. With the forefront of my mind concentrating on the pain, all other senses were blocked out. The ground felt numb, and the myriad forest sounds fell on practically deaf ears. Light hurt my eyes and I shut them tight, but what little I saw of the amber hues peeking past the canopy told me the sun was about to set, making way for the looming twilight to creep across the sky and turn the already dark forest even darker. The dimming ambience in turn did wonders to calm my nerves, and I found the pain subsiding in time as a familiar darkness encroached.

Though it needn't be said, I say such words only because they are true. I loved the dark. Whether it be going to sleep or waking up, come sunset, or even the thickest of cloud cover, it greeted her all the same, all too faithfully. I loved to walk through it. I loved to sit in the sanctum of silence and solemnity it provided. Even in times of sorrow or fits of anger, whatever emotion 'd find myself in, I’d come running down empty halls where neither light touched nor life stirred. There I’d find the pervading darkness an ever present friend. It was a constant companion that found and consoled me in the most difficult times without fail. Even here the darkness was the same. But now that I noticed, it had become distant.

My ears swiveled, eager to catch an echo of a voice. That gentle voice in the dark that soothed and cooed me so many times before in spite of my many shortcomings. Those words it would say to me when things didn’t go as planned.

“I can’t… I can’t hear you,” I whispered from the forest floor. In my solitude, tears welled in my eyes, and my ragged breath had caused the mud by my muzzle to swell in and out like a tiny tide.

“Please say something…anything!”

Lesser bugs crawled a skittering and creeping cage around me, going about their business and indifferent to my presence and plight. Some had even began to gnaw at me, impatient to taste the succulence of still living flesh. But the pain was nothing compared to my sorrow, and I went on pleading.

“I know you are there and that I’ve failed… I am truly sorry.” A salty spring poured forth, running down my muzzle and wetting the soil into a mushy loam pressed down by her squirming head.

“Please forgive me... Please.”

I found no answer, for the darkness was unknowing and silent.

Silent not for long, however.

“Over here! I think I found something,” a far-off voice shouted.

An orange glow loomed in the distance, chasing the darkness of the forest away as the growing thunder of hooves accompanied its impending light. I turned around to the direction of the light, looking past the long ditch in the ground I faintly remembered crawling out of, and the telltale trail of broken branches left by the wake of my crash landing.

They were coming.

My eyes shot open and ears perked up as anxiety flooded me with adrenaline. What remained of my wings buzzed pathetically as I strained in beating them fast enough to gain flight. I could not escape like this. In my sorry state, all I could manage was an aptly sorry crawl. A trudge made agonizingly on sore and shaky joints threatening to buckle under me. To my salvation, a large gnarled root grew near a thicket of bushes within spiting distance. There I found my haven and under it I frantically crawled just in the nick of time.

A mob of ground pounders ambled into view as the wispy trails of my tail slithered beneath the cover of shadow. There were a few winged ones, but they were clearly not too fond of navigating a dense forest aloft at night, so they largely kept to hoof. Some carried torches. Other carried nets and pitch forks. All sported faces scrunched in scrutiny, their emotions varying between angry and bothered, where otherwise a friendly smile would perch itself.

“Shoot, looks like this one got lucky,” the first pony on scene said. “But look at the size of that crater! This one must’ve been a big one.”

He looked around and seemed to catch no notice of the furrows I made in my crawl. In fact I was lucky just as he had said. He had seemingly walked all over the telltale trail of my pathetic crawl, ruining it with his hoofprints. In another stroke of luck, his cronies arrived at the scene and haplessly followed suit. There were about nine or so of them in total, and to my greatest of gratitudes, obvious evidence to my recent course of action had been unwittingly dealt with by them, my pursuers. I breathed a short sigh of relief.

“Hah. 'Lucky' is an understatement. If you think about where they got tossed off from, I’m surprised more than a dozen survived. Though it would have been better if they didn’t,” a new arrival cajoled. At his words a lump caught in my throat, causing me discomfort.

“Seems like this one was well off enough to get up, though there isn’t a sign of hoofprints leading way or anything. That's quite surprising, given the ones we rounded up so far weren’t even awake,” the third arrival commented. Altogether they were a little more than a dozen ponies, if there weren’t any more on the way. "I'd hate to deal with one of these things well rested and in prime condition." He shuddered at the thought, while on the other hoof I only prayed they would quickly pass over me.

“Hey!” The second pony called. “Don’t forget they have wings.”

“Look around, this forest is thick! The trees took care of their wings. The ones we caught all had theirs shredded. There’s no doubt about this one too, judging by the branches it crashed through.” The third pony pointed at the opening in the canopy, and the clear view it afforded of a precarious city edged in by the mountain's peak, shining defiantly in the distance.

“Then again, it’s been a few days. I hope not too many of these nasty things have woken up.”

A few days… Those words struck a foreboding chord in the back of my mind, though my current state, one I couldn’t quite place.

“Hey, look at this!” The second newcomer said, picking up a beat up box from the ground nearby. “It has the royal seal on it...or I think it's the royal seal.”

He pried the broken lid open and out tumbled a pile of emerald shards that glistened dully in the torchlight.

“So they invade Equestria, suck all the love out of you, AND steal royal jewels too?” The first pony exclaimed. My mission's objective, reduced to a pile of shards! The pit in my stomach grew larger at the sight. “Gosh these changelings are depraved.”

“Lookie here!” Said the third comer. “I found a crown. Oh wow, that crack is big though.”

I brought a hoof up to inspect her head, however painful it was. It was gone and in fact was in that pony’s hooves. An auld crown of great legacy and commune, broken in my care! Slip ups upon slip ups, and now a sin most unforgivable was now pinned to my name!

“They must have taken it from Canterlot too. And by the looks of it, it could be Princess Luna’s. She’s not going to like this.” The finder's muzzle contorted into an indignant scowl, and amidst their own banter, the sentiment spread to the other ponies in the mob.

A holler from behind called their attention away and mine as well. However limited my view from under the gnarled root was, I struggled to turn to the direction of the call.

Two newcomers approached, one lugging a heavy sack her by the teeth and other helping from behind. The third pony went to assist in pushing from behind and they hauled the sack into the middle of the mob for inspection.

“You missed this one just a few turns down the way back,” she said, presenting their catch to the group. "If we didn't find this thing, well... I can only imagine what sorts of disasters would come for us down the line."

Out from the net plopped a changeling onto the ground, a lithe female drone. Her wings were in a state worse off than mine were, gone and ripped from her back. Nicks and dents peppered her carapace all over, some sizeable cracks oozing vital fluids out to where they shouldn't be. In moments, she stirred into consciousness right in front of the ponies and me. “Oh no, this one is coming round. Better tie it up.”

The group shortly panicked in an uproar as they clamored for the one amongst them holding the supplies. They turned even more agitated upon learning that their designated supply pony had actually gone off with the other half of the search party. With no time to waste, a unicorn quickly came forth. Plucking strings of hair from the tails of everyone in the group as well as several of his own, he bound them together with a spell. He then cut a length of the braided collection and focused on it. Within minutes he produced rope over fifteen feet long.

"There we go. The spell should hold up until we get back to town and turn it over to the soldiers." They closed in on the changeling and she could pose no resistance against the ponies as they hog tied her.

Helpless as I was, a deep gasp escaped me. “No.”

I recognized her. She was the oldest changeling in my retinue, one of the very few who still held fast to the scarcity of self and a dear friend close to my heart. Every fiber in my being called to me to throw myself into the fray and save her no matter what the consequence, no matter what end awaited us both. In a brief moment our eyes met. She pleaded me not too. My battered body went against my will in sympathy to hers, holding me back with chains of exhaustion.

“No… Variance, no,” I whispered again.

They looped the rope through the holes in her legs and ignored Variance's grunts of pain as the leader pointed a hoof off in other directions and sent the search party on its way. Not that she could voice her discomfort. She could barely even shake her head, let alone stay awake through this ordeal. As they tightened the knot on her legs, she flitted in and out of consciousness, bobbing her head down to a light touch with the ground.

“Please, no. Please.” With all my heart I pleaded. I pleaded for a miracle. A daring rescue, a sudden surge of strength, a freak accident, otherworldly benediction, anything to prevent things from going down this path. But just as the darkness had fallen silent for my blunders, none answered my cry for help.

After fastening more rope on her limbs, the ponies threw a net over Variance. With the group resuming their search, they hauled her across the forest floor like some prized game. The openings in the net cruelly exposed her to all the rocks, bramble and mud they dragged her through. Past a turn by a tree they disappeared, the listless gaze she shot at me not once breaking until that point. When the voices petered out and light of their torches faded from view, I allowed my sobs to echo out. I thought myself a pitiful excuse for a leader and a friend for merely watching in the sidelines, letting all that happen and leaving Variance to a fate worse than death. The pain of my aching body still throbbed all over, but none more so than the one that tore open my heart.

A sudden step in front of my gnarled nook startled me, cutting my tears and sobs off. A hoof stood within arm’s reach just outside. The torch held aloft blazed like a spotlight of judgment searching for my sins.

‘This is it,’ I thought as I anxiously bit down on a lip, barely holding back a dozen children's wails. This was the end of the line. The hoof reached over to pry the root cover loose and open.

Forgive me, Crocellia.

An ache in my head throbbed incessantly, and that was just the start. At first the feeling was faint, but it was relentless in its assault that I could no longer ignore it. I was launched from the serene lull of sleep, now sitting up in bed in a cold sweat. Lull? Serene? Why did that seem familiar...

In the midst of that migraine, I was surprised to have spared a bit of mind for that thought. Right then and there it rebounded with a vengeance. The pain wracking my head increased two fold and spread to the rest of my body, causing cramps all over. Curling into myself, I clutched my head with my hand which had become so numb that the very sensation of touch shrunk away from my fingers and toes. I rolled around in bed hoping my fidgeting would illicit feeling in any of my flustered nerves, but they remained stupefied and unresponsive. It felt like hours had passed where I couldn't feel anything apart from pain and numbness. It had become so all encompassing that I couldn't even tell if I was still breathing. Then the sensation of pain slowly died down and I was allowed to feel again. The first thing I did was wait anxiously for the pain to come back. Moments passed and nothing. And then I cried.

"What the hell was that?" I croaked past gnashing teeth and a stream of tears and sweat.

Numbness had left my body completely and was gradually receding from my limbs. With the situation returning to near normalcy the first order of business came to mind. With a steady hand, I felt myself up in anxious examination, hoping whatever lightning struck me left no lasting scars or deformations. So far it was only dampness and itchy skin. A sight of relief escaped me. However a sliver of numbness persisted in my fingers. Squinting my eyes in the dim confines of the room I struggled to make out even an outline of my hands. I couldn't even feel them wiggle, and that alone got me worrying again. Thankfully my bed was situated right by a window and I fumbled over to pull back the curtains. With light from the lone street lamp in the vicinity pouring into the room, I had briefly hoped that it wouldn't reach the other side of the room and wake Mergo. The concern was quickly forgotten, however, as panic took hold of me in a vice grip.

My fingers were gone, and my hands now ended in purple stumps on my wrist. The sight gave me such a shock as I doubled over and back, off the bed and down to the floor. Picking myself up turned arduous, and a glance back revealed the reason for that to be the extra joints in my legs, which were also now completely purple. There were no toes on my foot, not even a sole. Just abrupt unadorned stumps on my ankles. Could it even still be called a foot?

"I'm dreaming, this has to be a dream!" I shrieked, picking up myself and entering a hobbled crawl. My pajamas and underwear shed off in their now loose fit around my waist, and they nearly tangled on my legs. Having caught myself in my shirt, I ditched them and my shame as I made way for the low lying dresser across the room in the nude. The light only cut to my chin, but even in dim shade I couldn't ignore the realization I was different. I was purple all over now, a glossy pastel purple fit for a storybook palette. Managing a dull sheen in the dim light, my eyes had remained dark auburn and my hair still an disheveled obsidian though with a hint of indigo that shimmered in fringe refractions. But the most glaring detail was the horn that sprouted from my head. I had transformed into a unicorn overnight.

Several dozen thoughts buzzed and raced in my head, churning a wave of nausea in my panicked state. One thought crossed the finish line in the forefront of my mind, giving frantic foothold to all my reasoning and question for the next few moments.

The dream... I was starting to remember.

There were those things that looked like me, like ponies. Though only a couple of them had horns, a few with wings, and most of them had neither. The ones with horns somehow helped provide light as they marched through the forest in search for something...or someone.

"They were looking for me!" I shouted, struck by realization. At that sudden volume I startled even myself, and I pulled a hairy fore-stump over my mouth. I went on a bit more, throwing guesses up in the air in a whisper. "Or whatever thing I was in the dream."

Creaking wood echoed from out in the hallway and I realized the door was wide open. Turning my head a bit more, I found that the bed behind me was empty, and the wheelchair parked next to it gone. Mergo was up. What would she think when she saw me? Would she panic like I did and scream till Connie and Kirk would come to check on things, or would she keep calm and assess the situation and listen to me before jumping to conclusions? To hell with keeping calm! I was panicking myself, sweating bullets like a bad gambler in a game of Romandan Roulette! She'd be just as freaked out as I am, and there'd be no way I could feasibly contain this on such short notice!

Floorboards continued to creak under weight of someone approaching. The sounds fell in an almost pitter-patter frequency, telling me there was more than one person coming. Connie and Kirk were up! They were with her! Thoughts and words caught in my throat as the footsteps drew near and the creaking sounds only grew louder. All that separated the normalcy of their early morning and the bizarre sight of the creature I had become was a simple turn to the right.

"Agatha, are you awake?" A voice called with frail morning quality, and a hint of apprehension.

"Mergo, I can explain!" I spoke up unhinged, seeing her darkened outline peek past the door. On the offhand I noticed she was taller, but that could be because I was smaller than I was. I was a tiny pony! "I had this wierd dream for some reason, and then my body shot out in pain all over all of a sudden! I couldn't feel anything, I couldn't think, I couldn't even breathe! I thought I was dead! When I came to, I was-"

"You transformed into a unicorn," she frankly stated, finishing my frantic one breath babble.

She wasn't screaming at the top of her lungs. She wasn't crumbling into a panicked mess. She didn't twitch in revulsion or even bat an eye. Mergo just stood there, looking at me. "You...aren't you surprised? Not even the least bit confused?"

"Believe me, I'm the last person who would be surprised." Coming forward as she spoke, her sudden movements caught me unprepared and sent me skittering back to the window. "Though I'd be lying if I said this wasn't unexpected."

Mergo approached the window and let the light cut across and up her form. She wore a simple yet elegant robe that stopped just above her ankles. The tables were turned unexpectedly as I now found myself surprised instead. As I inspected her from top to bottom, repeatedly at that, she took calm sips from a glass of water she brought with her. Though she remained relatively calm, the corners of her mouth curved ever so slightly into a ghost of a scowl.

"Y-you're walking," I pointed out disbelievingly.

"I'm aware." Only a feet feet in front of me now, she hunkered down to my eye level.

I stuttered on, pointing an apprehensive finger...arm. "Y-y-you're legs grew back."

"Apparently. All my toes too." Sitting close enough to reach a curious touch, I placed a hand...stub on them. They were solid, real flesh and bone. She wiggled them to punctuate the fact. "I should be wearing socks though. It's going to be some time before i get used to them again. The morning air is quite cold, and they tickle quite easily."

Language was a funny thing in that words themselves carried inherent meaning. One peculiar phenomenon I picked up was that certain words could never escape their meaning. Like one could never say the word bubbles sounding angry. In my opinion, the same applied to the word tickle. It was still dark in the room, and the light from the street lamp barely cut across her chest. But even so it was clear to see that as she spoke, Mergo wasn't amused, not even the slightest. Neither was I.

"What's in the world is going on!?"

That was all the air in my lungs gone in one go. Man, tiny unicorn pipes had some shouting power. I didn't care anymore if I was loud. I couldn't give a damn that I would wake Connie or Kirk. For all the uncontrollable unknowns and my own bewildered state, I may as well be in a cell, screaming at padded walls.

"Someone, anyone! Give it to me straight... I need answers."

"If that is what you wish."

At those words a snap of a finger rang out, and its sound reverberated in my head, transitioning into a flash bang jolt. The sensation it struck me with did so hard and mercilessly, giving my nerves another shock of my lifetime, if not one far more worse. I was numb to the world again as it swam in hazy white light, turning on it sides. Or was I the one my sides? Mergo quickly cradled me, propping my legs up with a pillow and placing my head on her lap. Her voice was distant echo, calling to me past a thick white wall. Even as the blinding light dissipated, her words were distant and muffled for what I could make out of them.

"Agatha, stay with me! You're going to be alright!" She assured as gently as possible, sound gaining clarity in my ears once more.

As much as I wanted to believe her, in my re-stupefied state, emotional wherewithal and motor skills had been temporarily put out of my reach. I could not think nor act, only see. With no choice I settled to watching the world move around me. An indifferent bystander.

Mergo continued calling out to me even as I lay there unresponsive, distress weighing a heavy visage upon her face. "Agatha, Agatha!"

"There's no point. I only did what she so desperately asked for," a new voice began in a masked quavering tone. "What's done is done and cannot be taken back."

"Still so full of yourself, I see," Mergo returned displeased. "You still shouldn't have done that, it was completely unnecessary."

"I believe the words you are looking for are 'austere and unreserved,'" the new arrival coyly corrected, chuckling as she approached.

"It can't be helped. Not without you..." They paused, parsing their words. "Alone we are only capable of so much patience, which you have already worn excruciatingly thin. Be grateful we had the grace to spare what little we had left for this...distraction," they chuckled sarcastically, stepping up casually behind Mergo and I while dragging a long tail whose length still tucked past the doorway.

"Speaking of which, this! All of this, one big charade! It's all so unnecessary!" They continued to rant, and with ramping volume and build up, I could tell they were close to exploding. "I turn my back for one second thinking you could just quietly play your part as I did, and you leave me to go off gallivanting in no man's land to your heart's content! How many grand adventures have to penned to their insignificant records now? How many piles of useless rusted treasures have you amassed only to hide it in some dank dripping cave? How many wayward souls have you so saintly shepherded and had pledged to you their fleeting loyalty and love!? I come upon you at this late hour, expecting a send-off worthy of our grandeur, and all I get is this paltry setup!" The sudden tirade shook the room violently and filled it with a rush of reviled red, causing Mergo to shrink into herself ever so slightly as she held onto me. It was a terrible tremor. Then everything went quiet and dark again as the newcomer calmly breathed in. "Though at this point I shouldn't be so upset, as you've clearly proven in the past that you would rather not care. So, as would so plainly put it nowadays...tell me, Mergo. What's your high score now?"

Mergo was silent, her grip on my shoulder tightening in her hesitation. Moment after tense moment passed, and then a smattering of spaghetti and stroganoff fell to the floor, defusing a bit of tension of the serious exchange.

"You've gotten sloppy. Someone has to clean that, you know," Mergo spoke finally breaking the silence.

"Stalls and dilly-dallies," their voice was now condescending now yet still quite pensive, past the food the chewed. "You were always so fond of them. You've held faithfully fast your own ball and chain, I see... As have I. It is largely by such predilections we are able to come so far...that we even still are."

She turned away from me to look the stranger in the eye. "Come now. There is much to be done."

"Not before you clean your mess," Mergo insisted.

Spoon and fork clattered to the floor, as well as bits of meatball and sauce. "This is not a game, Mergo. There is no more time to waste!"

Setting my head on another pillow, she stubbornly put her foot down again. "This is still my house, and as a guest you will abide by my rules!"

There, another tense moment loomed, palpable even to me in my invalid state. The moment passed soon after, not lasting long. "Fine..." At their relent, eating utensils floated off the floor to follow the stranger who stormed out of the room.

Then Mergo carefully raised me from the ground and placed me back on my bed, pulling the curtains to a close before going out to join the stranger. Murmurs of their furthered exchange and the clatter of dishes echoed from the hallway as they tidied and cleaned. Words indiscernible from the distance, their voices were placid and amicable for the most part, then raised briefly in another clash before one of them relented. It wasn't long before footsteps returned to the room.

"Who does she think she is," the stranger grumbled from a low stance the center of the room, obvious even to me that they were cleaning up the mess they made. As much as I wanted to turn my head and at the very least see their face, I still couldn't move.

"Carefree and absurd to a ridiculous degree. Making me of all people do her cleaning! What a dullard," they trailed off, from the sound of it, having finished cleaning the floor. Footsteps came closer then stopped. "Why would she choose all this over me...over everything else that she forsook?"

Pinned to a darkened face crowned by horns, a pair of piercing red eyes on yellow irises hovered over me giving me a harrowing once-over from head to toe. They raised a dark and ghastly hand over me with the intent to pry me at their leisure. "What makes you so special, I wonder?"

Mergo's return stopped them before they could do anything. "Are you finished here?"

"Quite so, and just in time," they answered, staying their hand and turning their gaze away from me. "Now, if you've no further distractions to settle, let us be on our way."

The door to the room slammed to a close, and then the front door to the cottage as well. We were alone again, and Mergo approached my bedside. Taking the disheveled blanket I had tossed to the ground, she set it back over me again and took a wet rag to my face, wiping it clean. Setting it aside she turned back to me, leaning over till our eyes locked.

"You'll find your answers in the sunless paradise."

She clasped her hands together and uttered a small sincere prayer. "Faraam lo Dènamdinna," she punctuated in a whisper as she crossed her heart, before kissng my forehead lightly and holding my hand tightly in hers.

"I won't tell you to stay put and forget about me. Knowing you, it'd only make you want to follow me even more." I had never heard Mergo like this before. So defeated, so sad, so full of regret. "Please be careful on your journey. I know you just so hate being in the dark. You hate being 'it.'" She laughed, and cried at the same time. "I'm so sorry, Aggie... For everything."

A series of hard knocks outside stirred her, and she dried the tears welling in her eyes. Letting go of my hand, I heard her stop at the door one more time.

"No more words, Agatha," she said over the creaking of the door as she pulled it to a close. "Only the paths that await to be tread."

The glorious midday sun rose over Equestria in the middle of its clockwork course. Sometimes it was a bit early, sometimes it was a bit late, but that was up for the seasons and the pegasii to decide. I could care less, I was on my break. Birds chirped their sing song tune, flying up and about as the ponies of Ponyville went about their business. Finding myself an island in the sparse crowd, I took a seat beneath a tree to start my lunch break. Even as they walked around me, their vigor and cheer bled out from the actions, their faces, and even their words, blending seamlessly into the general ambience. Seeing them smile so much, I was starting to taste their amicability in my sandwich, which abated my hunger somewhat. It was virtually infectious, which I found it all so very... strange.

"Nice morning we have 'ere, ain't it, Levy?" My neighbor, Everett Fandango, greeted as she approached. She was a cream yellow pegasus with chestnut hair. Her cutie mark, a plain golden shield, adorned her flank proudly. "So, what's particular aspect of Ponyville's got you kerfuffled today, eh?"

"For the Nth time, it's my day off! Can't a mare for once just enjoy a meal without being hassled for simply nitpicking a place too good to be true?" I moaned on, chomping on my daffodil club sandwich after.

"Alright, alright! I won't hound on you today."

Even as she rounded the turn along the Sugar Cube Corner, I could still hear her giggling and almost see her sport that smug smile. It was her go-to expression. Another bite into my sandwich was called for, helping me to dismiss the off-putting thought. Once dismissed, my attention drifted over to the sandwich itself. A sandwich full of daffodils. Fishing some petals from my mouth, I half inspected the moist cud while raising its white color with a hoof against the clouds up above me. I didn't care my hoof was half covered in my spit. They were both so white, the cloud and the petals...so vibrant, so lively. I almost forgot what they looked like...what this tasted like.

A pristine unicorn mare passed me by, catching me in the middle of my daze as she stopped to once me over. Purple Croissant I named her for her audacious purple coif, having briefly met her when I met Pink Menace, or rather when she crashed into my personal space. Purple Croissant made her disgust apparent with a scowl upon seeing me contemplate my saliva covered hoof with abject curiosity.

"Ugh, such a mess you have there on your hoof. Whatever in Equestria are doing?"

Her remark caught my bull by the horns, and after a lazy-seeming gaze to her, I let her have it. "Minding my own business, DUH!"

"Hmph! Well, I never! And here I thought we had another new friendly addition in town," she returned indignantly. With a sharp nod, I hinted at her to take a hike, which she took gladly in the direction in front of me. Purple Croissant headed inside the Sugar Cube Corner and in all likelihood, would meet the Pink Menace on her way in. I just hoped they wouldn't talk about me.

Gauging the sun's course in the sky, I guessed that I only had a few minutes before my break was over, which meant waking my partner up from naptime. Aside from the interruptions, at least my break was mostly pleasant.

Half the day had passed and been well enjoyed, though still nothing too grand. Just the way I liked it.

Author's Note

AN[170624]

*I'm having a bit of trouble laying down the tone for chapter 3. Bear with me. Not the final edit of this chapter either.