Ponystar Celestia

T minus two hours. Ponyville, outskirts.

“I don’t get it,” Sweetie Belle said. “Why are we decommissioning the Celestia?”

Twilight Sparkle and Apple Bloom shared a long-suffering look. Each of them had had to answer this question many, many times throughout the past few months. Twilight nudged Apple Bloom gently; it was the earth pony’s turn to explain.

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes at Twilight, then turned to her foalhood friend. “Okay: you’ve noticed how different gadgets have been getting smaller 'n’ smaller, right?”

“Right,” Sweetie Belle said. “Technology enchantments have been getting more refined, so it’s easier to put stronger spells in smaller objects.”

“Well, the same thing goes for military magitek, too. We’re getting better 'n’ better at making ponystars, to the point that the older ones are falling behind. Celestia costs more bits to run than she’s worth. Besides, she was never battle-ready to begin with.”

“She wasn’t?” Sweetie Belle asked dubiously.

“That’s right,” Twilight chimed in. “The Celestia was the prototype; we built her just to prove that we could. We never even installed launch ports or catapults in her starboard hangar, or half of the point-defense rigs that other ponystars have.”

Still, she added to herself, for a first attempt she’s a fine ship.

The three mares stood together at the top of a small hill, looking up at the bulk of the ponystar hanging in the air above them. In size, a standard ponystar compared to a passenger airship about the same way an airship compared to a sky chariot, or to a land-bound carriage. The Celestia was larger still; it hadn’t been built with the miniaturized systems Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle had been discussing. On top of that, it had all kinds of backup systems and redundancies that were—well—redundant; up until the day the Celestia was launched they hadn’t been sure it was actually possible to make a ship that big stay airborne, so they’d thrown in far more safety backups than they needed. As proud as Twilight was of the gargantuan vehicle and all of the hard work that had gone into it, she also felt a familiar twinge of regret. If she could, she’d happily trade the professional prestige and wealth she had earned as a result of the ponystars’ creation for a world where they were not deemed necessary.

As Equestria had grown, sky chariots had become more and more unfeasible for long-distance travel. Trains and airships were the next logical step, but they would occasionally fall prey to monsters, bandits, or bored dragons. So—at the request of the Princesses—Twilight, Apple Bloom, and a handful of other ponies had created the ponystars. The dedicated battleships provided protection to caravans of civilian vehicles as they traveled to the farthest borders of Equestria. Twilight had suggested calling the new vessels “galaxy-class airships” based on their size and half-inspiring, half-intimidating sense of presence, but Apple Bloom’s suggestion had won out. Twilight didn’t mind, though… At least they hadn’t gone with Flim and Flam’s “Super Slammer Pony Hammer 40,000;” just remembering that name made her want to gag.

Twilight’s ears twitched, drawing her out of her memories. As the sound of approaching hoofsteps gradually grew louder, she turned and saw Rainbow Dash and the Apple family cresting the hill. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle had heard as well, and they trotted down to meet the new arrivals halfway. Twilight stayed where she was, simply drinking in the sight of her friends.

Applejack looked the same as ever—she even had the same ancient hat—aside from being hitched up to a small wagon filled with one annoyed blue pegasus. The pegasus in question was insisting that she was able to move under her own power, even though the only thing holding her down was a green-and-white flannel blanket. Over the years Twilight had occasionally wondered if Applejack and Rainbow were lovers, but if so they had never seen fit to announce it and Twilight didn’t feel that it was her place to ask.

Big Macintosh and Pinkie Pie—Pinkie Apple these days—were keeping pace with Rainbow’s wagon, despite Pinkie’s advanced pregnancy. She bore it well. Even though—for the foal’s sake—she no longer literally bounced from place to place, she positively glowed with even more joy than she’d possessed when she and her friends were younger. As the group approached, Twilight could make out what Pinkie was saying to the hulking red stallion: “—still think it would’ve been even more fun if you had been a Pie and I had been an Apple. Then I could’ve hyphenated my name and been Pinkie Apple-Pie!” Pinkie giggled at the thought, then spoke as if replying to something Mac had said. “Oh, but Pinkie Pie-Apple doesn’t sound as funny! Besides, then somepony might think I was Pinkie Pineapple and you know that the Pineapples haven’t liked me too much ever since I baked—oh, hi girls!”

“Howdy, Pinkie! Howdy, Mac!”

“Hi, Pinkie! Hi, Big Macintosh!”

Big Macintosh smiled and nodded at Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle.

Applejack grunted. “What, no ‘howdy’s fer me?” she said in mock indignation. “And here Ah am, stuck with the biggest sourpuss this side’a the Everfree Forest!” Everyone laughed except for Rainbow, who just began a new campaign of grumbling. “Hold up now,” Applejack said. “Where’s Rarity?”

Sweetie Belle frowned. “There was a problem at the train station. Apparently there was something strange about Rarity’s ticket—somepony even accused her of forging it! You can imagine how she reacted to that…”

Everypony winced, even Big Macintosh.

“Wait a minute!” Twilight said. “If Rarity’s stuck in Canterlot, that means the Elements of Harmony are stuck there too!” A sheen of sweat broke out on the purple unicorn’s brow as an anxiety attack threatened to form. “How are we supposed to conduct the decommissioning ceremony with no Elements and only five bearers?!”

“Actually—” Sweetie Belle said.

Applejack cocked an eyebrow. “Uh, Twi? First off, we can skip the Elements; that ain’t a big deal. Second, Ah only count four’a us here.”

Pinkie’s bright blue eyes sparkled with mirth. “Gee, Twilight, you must be having an off day! Even me and Rainbow could tell Fluttershy’s not here, even though I’ve got all kinds of baby-hormones in my head and Dashie’s delirious with the feather flu!”

“Rarity will—” Sweetie Belle began.

Rainbow coughed. “Iz just a coldth!”

Twilight grimaced and put a hoof to her face. “I know Fluttershy’s not here; she told me she was going to be a couple of minutes late because she was arranging meal plans for her animals and that kind of thing with the veterinarian, so that they’re taken care of while we’re all away. And the Elements are a big deal, because Princess Celestia asked us to wear them to the decommissioning!”

“HEY!"

In varying states of alarm, everypony looked to Sweetie Belle. She cleared her throat and said: “Rarity eventually convinced them to pay for an airship ticket—on the Golden Luxury, no less—so she could catch up with us. Unfortunately it won’t set sail until later tonight, so we won’t be seeing her until the ceremony’s about to start.”

Applejack laughed. “That’s our Rarity, all right! Shame we won’t see her before the big event, but at least she’ll be around for the trip back.” Turning to Twilight, she added, “Ah still don’t see what’s with all the fuss about the Elements, though. T’ain’t like we’re s’posed to shoot the Celestia down.”

Twilight opened her mouth to reply, but froze. She’d just noticed Pinkie’s tail, which was twitching like a thing possessed. Twilight and Sweetie Belle began to look around for some sort of cover—Please let it just be a flower pot!—until Pinkie started to laugh.

“Oh girls, don’t worry!” Pinkie said. She gestured to her swollen belly. “My Pinkie Sense has been acting up ever since Mackie put this little Apple in my oven.” The pink mare shot her husband a suggestive look. “And if I’m lucky, it won’t be long after the little one’s born that it starts acting up again.”

Nopony spoke for a moment.

Twilight couldn't tell if Big Macintosh was blushing; his coat was just the wrong color. Giving up, she cleared her throat and smiled awkwardly at him. “Aaaanyway… Is it a filly or a colt?”

Big Macintosh shrugged. Pinkie grinned. Applejack rolled her eyes.

“Don’t bother, Twi. Pinkie’s dead-set on it bein’ a surprise. Wouldn’t even let Mac go to the hospital with ‘er fer the last couple of months; Ah got roped inta that.” Twilight opened her mouth, but Applejack held up a forestalling hoof. “Nope; Ah Pinkie Promised. So did the doctor… and the nurses.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow at the still-grinning Pinkie. “Wow. That’s… thorough.” Pinkie only beamed harder, as though Twilight had praised her.

Sweetie Belle groaned in disappointment. “Pinkie, that’s not fair! Rarity wanted to decorate the foal’s room before it was born, and make it little outfits.”

Pinkie thrust her nose into the air, as if trying to smell the sun. “While I do appreciate her offer and am terribly sorry to inconvenience her in any way, I’m afraid she will simply have to begin her project after the delivery,” she said in a fair impression of the absent unicorn, prompting giggles from most of the group.

Sweetie Belle frowned, vexed. “But I wanted to compose a lullaby, and—”

“What’s wrong with ‘Hush Now, Quiet Now’?” a soft voice asked from directly behind Sweetie Belle. The slender white unicorn jumped as though somepony had pulled her tail. She spun on her hooves to find Fluttershy standing behind her. The yellow pegasus’ smile bore the slightest hint of mischief. “As I recall, you have quite a way with that song,” Fluttershy said. Apple Bloom literally fell over laughing, and Twilight covered her mouth with a hoof to hide her smile.

Sweetie Belle spun on the group, her pale green eyes fiery. “You all saw her sneaking up on me, didn’t you?” she accused.

“Eeeyup,” Big Macintosh deadpanned. He had to speak for the Apple family in this case; Pinkie and Applejack were holding each other up as they laughed, and even Rainbow was chuckling weakly under her blanket.

Sweetie Belle stuck her tongue out at them and said something in reply, but Twilight’s attention was on Fluttershy. Startling Sweetie Belle aside, the usually ground-bound pegasus was still the most introverted member of their little group… and still the most beautiful. Rarity had style and charm and presence—when she entered a room, all eyes went to her—but Fluttershy had an ethereal appeal like nopony else. It was a balm to the soul, like the sound of a gentle breeze blowing through the forest, or the delicate grace of a flower. In a strange way, Fluttershy reminded Twilight of Princess Celestia.

Fluttershy had grown a little more assertive over the years as well, which was gradually revealing whole new facets of her personality. Twilight hoped that she had had something to do with that, but doubted it. She herself was generally a stay-at-home sort of pony; in fact, there had been many times when she’d gone to Fluttershy’s cottage intending to take her out for some social activity only to spend the day there reading and tending to animals and having tea.

Fluttershy seemed to feel Twilight’s eyes on her. She turned to Twilight and said, “Oh, I almost forgot! I invited Owloysius to stay at my cottage while we’re all away. I know that he can handle himself, but I thought he might like to socialize with Angel and the other pets, seeing as how they’re all getting on in years. I hope that’s all right…”

Twilight smiled. “Of course; I should’ve thought of that myself. Thank you, Fluttershy.”

“Oh, you don’t need to thank me; it was nothing,” Fluttershy said, blushing slightly.

Twilight caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning, she saw Sweetie Belle leaning in to whisper something to Apple Bloom. Everypony else was talking shop about this year’s cider sales, but the younger mares were watching Twilight and Fluttershy. Twilight raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing!” said Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, with huge grins.

Oooooookay…

Twilight turned back to Fluttershy. “Do you know what’s up with them?” Twilight asked.

Fluttershy shook her head.

The former Cutie Mark Crusaders appeared to either side of them.

“So, Twilight: if you moved out of the library, would you keep being the librarian, or would you do something else?” Apple Bloom asked.

Sweetie Belle leaned in towards Fluttershy. “Have you ever considered moving into Ponyville proper?”

“What, like be a full-time enchanter? No. I got that out of my system when we built Celestia and the other first-generation ponystars.” Twilight said.

“Oh, no; I couldn’t! Who would take care of my animal friends?” Fluttershy replied.

“Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of helping out sick 'n’ injured critters,” Apple Bloom said.

“That’s a good point. You know, I’m surprised you can handle all of those little animals by yourself. Have you ever considered looking for an assistant?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“But I don’t have a degree in veterinary medicine,” Twilight replied, frowning.

“Oh, Angel helps me out quite a bit, actually!” Fluttershy said, smiling.

“Shucks, you don’t need a degree! You could just apprentice under somepony who knows how to take care of critters already,” Apple Bloom said.

“No no no. I mean, why not ask another pony to help you? Someone who’s dependable… knowledgeable… helpful…” Sweetie Belle said.

“But Applejack has her hooves full with Sweet Apple Acres,” Twilight and Fluttershy said in unison. They each started a bit at the sound of the other’s voice.

Apple Bloom looked smug about something, but Sweetie Belle had a sort of disgusted frustration on her face. Twilight shrugged at Fluttershy, who looked oddly embarrassed.

“Hey everypony! Sorry I’m late!” a familiar orange pegasus mare shouted from above. Scootaloo made a low pass over the assembled ponies—giving them a view of the underside of the extra-large sky chariot she was towing—before finally landing near everyone.

Twilight’s jaw dropped. Scootaloo. Flying. It was as alien to her as if Fluttershy had spouted tentacles from her eyes. The weirdness was heightened by the color of Scootaloo’s wings—they almost looked like they were made from polished steel.

“Aluminum,” Apple Bloom said to Twilight, as if reading her thoughts. “It’s lightweight 'n’ it channels pegasus magic better than most metals. The hardest part was getting them enchanted by a unicorn. In the end I mailed them to Sweetie Belle.”

“Rarity helped, especially with the spell to keep them from chafing Scootaloo’s real wings,” Sweetie Belle said modestly.

“Why didn’t you ask me for help?” Twilight asked.

“At the time, you were putting the finishing touches on Sugar Grape’s navigation 'n’ threat-detection enchantments. Didn’t see a reason to give you more work,” Apple Bloom said.

“You made magitek prosthetic wings as a side project?” Twilight asked incredulously.

“She sure did!” said Scootaloo, who had gotten herself out of her harness and trotted over. She swept Apple Bloom up in a huge hug and added, “This filly can do anything!” She held the hug for a moment and looked into Apple Bloom’s eyes intently. “Best. Birthday. Ever.” Scootaloo released Apple Bloom—who looked a little flustered to Twilight—and turned to Sweetie Belle. The two hoof-bumped and shared a smile. “How’s it going, music mare?”

“Just fine, flyfilly,” Sweetie Belle said.

Scootaloo grinned hugely. “Oh, it feels good to be called that when I can live up to it!”

Now it was Scootaloo’s turn to be on the receiving end of a hug. When Sweetie Belle released her, the unicorn had tears in her eyes. “I’m so glad I can finally see them in use! You’re so graceful in the air!”

“Yeh, yor doon good, kit,” Rainbow croaked, provoking a chorus of similar sentiments from the Apple family.

Scootaloo thrust her chest out with pride. “If you think I was good while I was towing that thing, you should see me when I’m on my own!” Her expression switched suddenly to one of concern. “Shoot! That’ll have to be later; we’re running behind as it is!” Rather than hitch herself back up, though, she hurried to the back of the sky chariot.

Scootaloo rooted around in the luggage area for a moment before returning with a small pouch held in her teeth. “Da Wonderbolfs shent more medishin.” She trotted over to Rainbow’s wagon and laid the pouch inside. Turning to Applejack and Fluttershy, Scootaloo said, “You’ll make sure she takes it all, right?”

“Sure will,” Applejack said; Fluttershy simply nodded.

Rainbow began to argue with the trio, but Twilight tuned them out. Turning to Apple Bloom, Twilight asked, “So when were you going to tell me that you’d revolutionized a field of medicine?”

Apple Bloom just smirked. “Oh, I’m full of surprises, Twilight. You’d best keep a close eye on me if you want to learn them all.”

Suddenly, Pinkie.

She appeared between Apple Bloom and Twilight and said, “Hey, is it just me or is it strange that the sky chariot has harnesses for four ponies but Scootaloo brought it here all by herself?”

Scootaloo reacted to hearing her name. “Yeah…” she said, turning to face Pinkie, “that’s actually part of why I’m running late. Soarin’ came up with another maneuver for the big air show at the decommissioning and Spitfire wanted everypony to start practicing right away. Everypony was either busy or exhausted when I left.”

“Eeeeeeeeeeeevrypony?” Pinkie asked, with a strange look on her face.

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Okay, not everypony. Derpy Hooves and Pound Cake volunteered to help me, but I’d rather not be harnessed to Derpy—she’s a good pony, but her wing-eye coordination…” Scootaloo grimaced, “…and Pound was too small for the harness.”

“I’m glad Pound volunteered anyway,” Pinkie said, smiling. “I’d hate to think he was going to sit around being a Lazy McSlothpants.”

“Nah, he’s a good kid. Good taste in role models, too; he just founded the Celestia branch of the Rainbow Dash Fan Club. Anyway, we’d better get this show on the ro—” Scootaloo did a double-take. “Wait… Sweetie Belle, where’s your sister?”

Sweetie Belle explained Rarity’s circumstances again. This time, nopony interrupted her.

Scootaloo nodded, satisfied. “Oh, okay; cool. Well, then: like I was saying, we’d better get moving. Fluttershy, could you help me pull this thing?”

“Of course, Scootaloo,” Fluttershy said.

The next minute or so was a bit of organized chaos as everypony got settled in—

“Don’t you guys have any luggage?”

“No, Spike brought it up to the Celestia yesterday.”

“Hey sis, do you mind if I squeeze in next to Twilight there?”

“Huh? Oh, sure, no problem…”

“Wow, this is one big chariot! If it was any bigger it would have a dinner service! I hope they’ll serve chocolate milk with dinner tonight! Wait—do they even have chocolate milk on the Celestia, Dashie?"

"They did the lest time I was aburd.”

—but they all got aboard in the end, even Rainbow in her little wagon. Big Macintosh was the last to board; he’d waited behind with Pinkie and had offered her a hoof in support, even though the sky chariot’s deck was only a few inches off of the grass. Twilight reached back with her magic and pulled up the safety gate; it would be a short trip, but best not to take any chances.

Scootaloo and Fluttershy flapped their wings a few times as they cantered forward in preparation for takeoff. Scootaloo’s augmented wings seemed stiff and jerky to Twilight, compared to Fluttershy’s all-natural plumage. Regardless of appearances, though, they worked just fine when the two mares finally took to the air. Twilight let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and sat down on her rump. She felt Apple Bloom’s tail brush her flank, but didn’t think much of it; the sky chariot was pretty crowded, between Rainbow’s wagon and Big Macintosh’s sheer bulk. Besides, it felt kind of nice. Twilight sighed and finally let go of her earlier stress about the decommissioning ceremony.

Everything will be all right, she thought.

* * *

T minus two hours. Canterlot, Rosedust Lane.

Shining Armor trotted down the stairs, grumbling obscenities to himself. It was the first time in months that he and Cadance had had the same day off, and they’d been working on making the most of it. He’d gotten up just before dawn as usual, but instead of performing his daily cardio routine Shining had gone down to the kitchen and whipped up a tall stack of strawberry-and-carrot pancakes. Once he’d brought them up to his wife he had gotten plenty of exercise; that had been five very pleasant hours ago.

Then there came the knocking, which they had both pretended not to hear. Unfortunately, their visitor had followed it up by ringing their bell. And ringing it again. And again. Eventually Shining Armor had forced himself to head down and see what whoever-it-was wanted; being the captain of the royal guard and married to a princess meant that anypony this urgent to see them probably had bad news. Of the national-crisis variety.

Shining didn’t bother to dress—he wore only the changeling-detecting anklet he’d received from Twily as a post-wedding present—but he did stop by the downstairs restroom to splash some water in his face and run a brush through his mane. There was no need to advertise his recent lovemaking to the guard or messenger or whoever. He reached the door as the bell rang for—seemingly—the nine millionth time, put on his Game Face, and opened the door with a gentle pulse of magic.

As it turned out, the pony ringing the doorbell of the Cadenza/Armor home was not a bloodied, battered guardsmare. Nor was he a servant dressed in the livery of the Royal Palace. He was just a young blue unicorn stallion—a colt, really—wearing a burgundy jacket and matching pillbox hat, harnessed to a wagon full of musical instruments.

The colt cleared his throat nervously before speaking in a voice cracking with puberty. “Uh, singing telegram for Princess Mi Amore Cadenza?”

Shining blinked once, slowly, feeling his Game Face slip away. “Seriously?”

“Uh, yeah?”

Shining Armor fought to keep himself from scowling. “Just a minute,” he said, more harshly than he’d meant to. A few minutes—and a quick restroom stop by Cadance—later, the couple arrived at the door together. Cadance’s purple eyes sparkled as she took in the awkward young stallion on the porch, who had used the wait to levitate a few of his instruments out of the wagon.

“Good morning!” Cadance said cheerfully. “I’m Mi Amore Cadenza—but please, call me Cadance. What’s your name, my good sir?”

The singing telegram-pony shuffled a forehoof awkwardly, clearly taken off guard. “Uh… Bobbin’ Dill.” Shining Armor raised an eyebrow and leaned to the side to see the colt’s cutie mark. Sure enough, it appeared to be a pickle floating in a bucket.

Huh. Weird.

Shining was too busy contemplating the cutie mark to object when Cadance said, “Please, come on in, Mr. Dill; I’d like to hear your song in the comfort of my living room. And I’m sure you could use a glass of water to wet your whistle.”

“Uh, thanks.” The three ponies, one wagon, and several musical instruments proceeded to the living room. Cadance fetched Bobbin’ a glass of water from the kitchen herself instead of ringing for their butler, Pennyworth. Shining couldn’t tell if Bobbin’ appreciated the graciousness behind Cadance’s gesture; the colt’s face was a mask of confusion.

Bobbin’ had just finished his water when Shining Armor’s gut began to gurgle alarmingly. Shining winced in discomfort and excused himself to the restroom, suggesting that the others not wait on him.

Darn carrots go right though me, always have, why do they have to be so tasty?

Between the distance, the door, and his digestive tract, Shining Armor wasn’t able to make out much of the singing telegram—just something about a thief, some wine, a joke, a watchtower, and a wild cat. He had just finished his business and was washing up when his anklet clenched around his left forehoof.

For a long, horrible moment, all Shining Armor could do was stare dumbly at the thin silver braid. Twily had briefed him on how it worked, of course, and assured him that she’d field-tested it herself, but Shining had never actually felt it activate. The anklet continued to expand and contract, slowly gaining speed as he stared. The pause between pulses is inversely proportional to the proximity of prohibited ponies—or in this case, changelings, Twilight’s voice echoed in his mind.

There was a changeling nearby. In his house. Posing a threat to the love of his life. Again.

Had Twilight Sparkle seen the change that came over her brother then, she would have been deeply unsettled. Shining Armor—the genial, goofy stallion with an upset stomach—ceased to be. He was replaced by the Captain of Equestria’s Royal Guard.

Shining turned the faucet in the sink all the way up and left it there. It impaired his hearing more than the enemy’s at the moment, but if he was lucky it would make them think he was still in the restroom. He wrapped a towel around one hoof and then—as quietly as possible—shattered the restroom mirror with a quick kick. Shining levitated a hoofful of shards with his magic before he eased the restroom door open.

Aside from the restroom faucet, the house was silent. He resisted the urge to rush headlong to the living room to check on Cadance, instead forcing himself to creep forward slowly and check every doorway and blind corner he passed. Their home—copied from a design by the legendary architect W. Lordly Flight—was beautiful, comfortable, and welcoming, but from a tactical perspective it was a nightmare. Moving so cautiously, it took Shining Armor a little less than four minutes to get to the doorway to the living room; from his perspective it was longer than Night Mare Moon’s banishment. Shining cursed the soft sound of his magic as he turned a shard of mirror in the air; he’d never learned to silence his magical aura the way the unicorns of Princess Luna’s Night Guard could. He quickly scanned the reflection of the living room for the jet black and sickly green of an undisguised changeling. Satisfied that the enemy wasn’t in the living room Shining took a deep breath, let it out slowly… and rounded the corner.

Blood was everywhere. He’d noticed some in the reflection, but the reality was far worse. It was on the walls, the couch, the little green-tasseled pillows that Cadance loved—there was some on the ceiling. Shining Armor had seen worse before, but that was on the battlefield; in his own home the sight was alien and horrifying. He looked to the floor. Bobbin’ Dill had apparently been garroted with what looked like one of his own guitar strings, but the enemy had used almost enough force to remove the colt’s head. Cadance lay beside Bobbin’, her eyes closed. She was breathing and at a glance Shining couldn’t see any injuries on her, but her coat and mane were soaked with blood and she wasn’t moving. Shining Armor’s first-aid training came back to him.

1) Make sure the scene is secure.

The anklet was pulsing almost as fast as his heart; the scene was definitely not secure. Cursing himself for not rushing straight to his wife’s side, Shining instead checked each of the doorways leading off of the living room. It was hard to perceive with how agitated he was, but the anklet’s contractions got slightly slower as he approached each doorway. For a moment he took that to mean that the changeling was goading him: retreating as he advanced and returning as he approached the center of the living room. The rational part of his mind—speaking in Twily’s voice—pointed out that that was extremely unlikely unless the changeling could see through walls.

Shining Armor took another look at Bobbin’ Dill’s “corpse.” The reports Shining had read suggested that changelings could only imitate normal pony appearances—but what if this one could do… “special effects?” The clock was ticking, and every second could be the one where Cadance bled out. Shining Armor ran the first experiment that occurred to him: he set the mirror shards aside with his magic, reared up on his hind legs, and crushed Bobbin’ Dill’s damaged neck under his forehooves. The young colt’s head—now completely severed—shot away across the floor like a hockey puck.

That was the end of things. Shining Armor had an instant to observe how the corpse did absolutely nothing—and to realize his error—before the mirror shards flew up from the table and shredded his throat. His scream came out as a wet gurgle and only made his agony worse. Staggering, Shining Armor turned, already knowing what he would see.

Cadance had risen to her hooves, and was smiling cruelly at him. “Hello, dear.”

Shining pressed a hoof to his throat, but the wounds were too extensive. He tried to call forth his magic and apply pressure to stop the bleeding, but Cadance—or rather, the changeling—lashed out with a forehoof. The blow to his horn broke his concentration and the spell failed. Unable to do much else, Shining croaked out an interrogative noise.

“Actually, I’m as surprised as you are!” Not-Cadance said cheerily. “After all, I spent almost a decade honestly convinced I was your loving wife!” She looked to the side and tapped a hoof to her chin. “I guess the biological differences explain why I never got pregnant…” she mused. Her tone became playful again as she continued, “Anyway, I’ve just been reminded that we have sleeper agents all over Equestria who are operating under delusions similar to mine, not to mention others who know full well what they're about.” She tilted her head and watched as Shining Armor sank to his knees, fighting to stay alive and conscious. “Apparently it’s time for the big push: time to shatter your wretched little nation of Equestria and feast on the remains. Oh, but you won’t live to see that… I guess I’m kinder than I thought.”

The monster that Shining Armor had spent two-thirds of his marriage with laughed in his face as he bled to death. Her breath smelled like strawberry-and-carrot pancakes.

Once he was dead, she trotted upstairs to take a shower.