The Danger Withinby LoganberryChapters1. Smoke and Mirrors2. More Questions than Answers3. Colours and Collars4. The Wild Time1. Smoke and MirrorsAuthor's Note This story is being written primarily to get me past a block that's been stubbornly hanging on for ages. Also because I like Fancy Pants, admittedly. I was thinking about keeping the fic as a private exercise, but a couple of friends said they'd like to read it. I'll be putting the story's chapters out much faster than normal, so don't expect miracles. Still, maybe you'd like to join me on the journey. If so, hang on: it's likely to be a bumpy ride! 1. Smoke and Mirrors “We’re not under attack, then? Good show.” Fancy Pants got to his hooves and looked around. There was still too much smoke drifting around to see very much, but there didn’t seem to be any strange and eldritch monsters – or indeed ordinary, common-or-garden monsters – bearing down on him. He spotted an elegant white hoof and trotted over to make its acquaintance. “Well,” said the cloud from which the hoof protruded. “Well.” Fancy couldn’t help but agree, though nodding seemed somewhat pointless in the circumstances. Instead he said to the cloud, “I do hope you haven’t been hurt.” “Oh no,” said Rarity. “I’m just wondering what this ridiculous display was in aid of. Twilight,” she added darkly, “will be getting a piece of my mind when I see her.” The smoke had cleared a little more and Fancy spotted a green mane sprouting from a bush in the middle distance. He opted not to tell Rarity about it. He considered going to speak to the princess himself but held back; friendly as she generally was, she was Equestrian royalty and there was a time and a place. At this moment, a thought struck him. “Er… Rarity,” he ventured. “Yes?” “Where is everypony?” “We’ll have to wait until we can see before we know that, won’t we?” said Rarity, the irritation clear in her voice. “And then we can see what damage this silliness has done to the castle garden.” Fancy coughed as politely as he could. “Well, that’s just it, you see. I’m not at all sure that this is the castle garden.” “I beg your pardon?” The smoke was much thinner now and the grass was clearly visible for several yards in each direction. It was a beautiful shade of green, the stalks fat and juicy. An iridescent blue beetle clambered among the stalks close to Fancy’s hooves, and he regarded it solemnly for a moment before turning back to Rarity. Her head was still lost in the haze, but the rest of her body was visible. She really was not going to be impressed when she saw the state of her dress. Still, there were more important matters to discuss, although Fancy would not have put it in quite those terms. “Dash it all, where are the croquet hoops?” There was a long, heavy silence before Rarity answered. “The croquet… hoops?” “Well… yes. Where are they?” The last word ended on a jumping upward note as a pegasus almost landed on top of him. He bit back an expression of annoyance as he realised who it was. “Ah, Fluttershy,” he said. “I’m awfully relieved to see you’re all right. Do you know what’s going on? Is this one of Princess Twilight’s more spectacular party tricks, perhaps? Can you see better from aloft?” “Oh no, I don’t think so. Twilight would never teleport her friends without a warning – it would be ever so dangerous.” Fluttershy brushed a twig from her mane and patted down her beautifully simple yet utterly exquisite green dress. “I still can’t see very well even from the sky, but I managed to get up high enough to see the last of the coruscations dissipating.” There was a squeak from Rarity’s direction. Fancy ignored it, asking, “Coruscations?” “Oh, goodness, of course you don’t know. I don’t understand it very well myself, but Twilight calls them ‘the visible protrusions of runaway translocation magic’. Um, I think.” She blushed slightly, in a way that would have set dozens of ponies swooning had they been there to see it. A nasty feeling somewhere between ice and slime ran up Fancy’s neck. He took a deep breath, but the sound of Rarity walking purposefully towards him hurried him into his next utterance. “So she has been teleporting us without permission!” said Fancy, with rather more vehemence than he intended. “She,” said an icy voice, “is the cat’s mother.” Rarity at last appeared fully, her gaze locked on the stallion’s. “Princess Twilight Sparkle,” she continued, enunciating every syllable as though she were the poshest Canterlot filly at finishing school, “has not been teleporting us at all. Nor, might I add, Mister Pants, does she need permission from monocled fools like you to cast magic. I dare say she knew more spells than you do now when she was a mewling filly in a crib.” Fluttershy put out a conciliatory wing and turned to Rarity. “Maybe we should tell Mr Fancy Pants—” “Just Fancy, please, my dear.” “She is not your dear!” spat Rarity, but Fluttershy’s gentle hoof on her shoulder took the sting from her anger. “I am sorry, Fluttershy. Please continue.” “Well,” said Fluttershy, “maybe we should explain to, um, Fancy about coruscations?” Rarity humphed. “That’s easy enough to tell. They are gleams of light—rather wonderful in their way—that appear when a very particular type of mirror is smashed.” Fancy thought about this for a moment, then grimaced. “Ah.” “Indeed,” said Rarity. “Ah.” “Quite so.” “But why?” said Fluttershy. “Twilight would never play that kind of prank. Pinkie Pie would be absolutely furi—” “And where is Pinkie?” interrupted Rarity. “And where is everypony else, for that matter? Come to that, where are we?” With the mist now not much more than scrappy patches floating across what for comfort’s sake Fancy had continued to think of as the lawn, the stallion looked across to where he’d seen the green mane. There was no sign of it now; indeed, there was no sign of anything Fancy recognised. No castle, no boating lake, no ornamental shrubbery. And certainly no croquet hoops. There was, however, a road. It ran from west to east, and in both directions disappeared into low grassy hills before it had gone much distance. It was a well made road, smooth and dark, wide enough for two carriages to pass at speed without much difficulty. There was no signpost. “Now what?” asked Fluttershy. Fancy scratched his head. “I am rather flummoxed,” he admitted. “This certainly isn’t the Canterlot road, unless the work parties have really been putting in the hours lately.” He paused. “Look… shall we go and find that green-maned pony?” The two mares turned as one to look at him. “What green-maned pony?” they said in unison. Fancy explained what he had seen. The others agreed that they should find this pony, but after a long search there was no sign and they reluctantly left off. It was either that or camp here, in what for now at least remained a completely unknown land. “I think we should leave a marker,” said Fluttershy as they reached the road. “We could make some twigs into an arrow to point the way. If that pony is still here, she’ll know which way we’re going and she’ll be able to catch up with us.” Rarity pointed out that right now, they didn’t know which way they were going. Before they could decide, Rarity insisted on removing her grass-stained and torn party dress, and further insisted on doing so behind a tree “as we are in mixed company”. Fancy caught the tiniest giggle from Fluttershy but said nothing. A short discussion followed and in the end the ponies chose east simply so that they would not have to squint into the low late-afternoon sun. They placed two arrows, one of twigs and one of pebbles, on a stump by the road. “Time we were off, I’d say,” said Fancy. “Though off to where is quite another question. Ah well, I imagine we shall find out.” The unicorns set off at a moderate trot, and Fluttershy chose to do the same rather than fly. The air was pleasant and the weather mild, and with a fine road beneath his horseshoes Fancy caught himself almost enjoying being out in the fresh air in the middle of whoever-knew-where with two such elegant mares. Fleur doesn’t know what she’s missing, he said to himself. A pang of the heart reminded him of what he was missing, so he forced himself to engage in small talk with Rarity and Fluttershy. Rarity was still a little curt with him, and Fluttershy though charming was unwilling to be drawn into deep conversations. He settled for chatting in a bright and brittle way about nothing in particular, much as he had done at the garden party itself. After a while Fancy hung back a little and allowed the two mares to talk among themselves while he filled his mind with a hotch-potch of half-remembered poems from his school days, his favourite rustic folk songs and the intricacies of the Schleich-Holsteiner Prob— The sudden darkening of the sky was not due to the sun slipping behind the hills. It was caused by two extremely large stallions blocking the road. They were both sand-coloured and lightly armoured, although the Earth pony to the left didn’t look as though he’d be stopped by anything short of an army of hydras. Fancy’s attention was however more drawn to the unicorn, whose horn-tip was already crackling with pink power – and it was pointed directly at him. Rarity and Fluttershy were nowhere to be seen. 2. More Questions than AnswersFancy Pants drained the last of his tea. Though lukewarm, it was of good quality and still refreshing to a certain degree. He levitated the empty cup down to the saucer and looked up at the nearer of the guardsponies. “It was dashed impolite, even so,” he said mildly. The unicorn guard shrugged, his armour clanking softly as he did so and the shadows he made dancing in the lamplight. Fancy waited, but the guard said nothing. Instead it was his comrade-in-arms who spoke up, in a deep but surprisingly soft and gentle voice for so hefty a stallion. “Would you like to fill out a complaint form?” said the Earth pony, an edge of sarcasm in his tone. Rarity butted in. “A complaint form? Really? You two… ruffians grab hold of us like that—” “Shining Mane didn’t even touch you!” “Hah!” scoffed Rarity, her eyebrows shooting up. “Does magical grip not count, then? I am sorry, but when my friend and I are thrown into a bush – some considerable distance, I might add – and then this gentlecolt suffers a similar fate merely for asking if he can be of assistance, I am inclined to consider that – well, ‘impolite’ is not the half of it.” “There was,” rumbled the other guard, “a reason.” “Which you have singularly failed to explain.” Fluttershy raised her head. “This tea really is nice,” she said. Rarity gave her a brief, thin smile and patted her shoulder; Fluttershy responded with a slight sigh of irritation and repeated her comment a little louder. “It is, rather,” said Fancy. “To be perfectly honest with you, it reminds me a little of the tea you served me earlier on. I must say, that was anawfully refreshing cup – and from what I’ve been told, your tea parties in Ponyville are very pleasant little affairs.” “Thank you,” said Fluttershy with a slight blush. “I really should invite you to one sometime.” She turned to Shining Mane. “Where do you get it from?” “My mother sends it out,” said Shining Mane. “She’s been sending me care packages since I was in college and I doubt she’s going to stop now. To tell you the truth, I don’t think she trusts us to eat properly.” He shrugged. “But I’m afraid we can’t sit here chatting.” He scratched his right foreleg with a hoof and looked to his fellow guard. “Sandcastle?” The Earth pony cleared his throat. “In the name of Equestria—” The ponies’ eyebrows shot up. “—and by the powers invested in me by the Defence of the Nation Act as well as my current position as—” “We’re still in Equestria!” whispered Fancy to his companions. “I say, that really is a stroke of luck.” “—oyal Guard Lieutenant Sandcastle, serial number AP835, I am both empowered and required to ask you to provide your full names and the nature of your business in this Restricted Zone.” Fluttershy and Rarity exchanged glances. “Now hang on a moment,” said Fancy. “Since when have there been Restricted Zones in Equestria?” The guardsponies simply stared. It was Fluttershy who spoke up first. “I’m sure we didn’t mean to cause any problems for you,” she said. “We understand that you have a difficult job here. I do hope we’re not doing anything wrong?” Sandcastle rubbed his neck a little. “Technically, no,” he said. “You do have to answer our questions, though, otherwise I will need to take steps. And you shouldn’t really be asking us anything.” He chewed his lower lip for a few seconds. “Also, I’m afraid your stallion friend’s little comment to you just now – oh yes, I heard it all right – means we’re really going to have to do this absolutely by the book.” “Oh,” said Fluttershy and dropped her eyes. Rarity muttered under her breath but said nothing aloud. Sandcastle produced three sheets of paper, each apparently identical and covered with tiny print, as well as a board to rest them on. Rarity made to take one of the sheets but was waved away with a snort, leading to a further bout of not-quite-inaudible grumbling. “That’ll be enough of that, if you please, ma’am. I hope you understand that we have a job to do.” He picked up a quill with his teeth and made some notes with what Fancy felt was a well-practised mouth. It wasn’t easy for an Earth pony to write quickly and neatly. Sandcastle turned to Rarity, and removing the quill from his lips asked for her name. “Rarity.” Sandcastle smiled. “That is a nice name, ma’am” he said. Rarity gave him a hostile flash of the eyes but held her tongue. Fancy thought he detected something behind the guard’s comment, though he also said nothing. Sandcastle replaced the quill between his teeth and gestured enquiringly to Fluttershy. “My name is Fluttershy.” “Ah,” said Sandcastle with a slight nod. “Another excellent one. Your parents did you proud. And you, sir?” This question was slightly muffled as the guard had not removed the quill. “Fancy Pants.” Sandcastle raised an eyebrow. “That’s a new name to me. I don’t think I’ve ever met a Fancy Pants before. Is it a historic name, or a family one, perhaps?” “Well, ah, neither, really. My parents were called Cheese Board and Clockwork. They felt that a young pony from an artisan background might well need a bit of help in life, and they so very badly wanted me to rise in the world. I imagine they thought a name like this would help.” Fancy set his face. “Not that it did me much good once they were gone.” “I’m sure your parents did you proud, too.” Sandcastle’s face grew suddenly hard and he jabbed the slightly damp quill at his subject. It seemed the time for pleasantries was over. “Now then: Fancy Pants, what do you know about the activities of the Flying Corps in this Zone?” Fancy gave a start, memories flooding into his mind. “The Flying Corps! I say, that takes me back. Of course, it was a different world in those days, and I was just a colt back in Trott—” “Don’t give me that waffly stuff. This isn’t some half-bit comic book where all the guardsponies are unobservant idiots who don’t notice things like, oh, shall we say, the looks you gave when I first mentioned Equestria.” He nodded and made a brief note, giving the thinnest of smiles. “Yes, we heard all right. Now, are you going to tell us what you know?” Fancy sighed. “How am I supposed to do that when I don’t know what the dickens you want me to say?” Sandcastle rolled his eyes. “What I want to hear from you is quite simple: I want to hear the truth.” He set down the quill. “But if this is how you want to play it… you and your companions will remain here with us tonight. I shall send a message to my superiors and if they decide to allow you to continue your journey, they will send somepony to accompany you tomorrow morning. I would strongly advise you not to cause Shining Mane or myself any further trouble in the meantime. Strongly.” “Is that a threat?” demanded Rarity hotly. “Yes.” Nopony spoke after that as Sandcastle showed them to their room for the night. It was sparsely furnished, but there was ample hay and water, and a few simple cushions were scattered about. The guard closed the door and there was a very definite click as a key turned in the lock. * * * Dawn was already breaking above the hills to the east when the three ponies rose from their fitful slumber. Shining Mane apologised for the lack of coffee (“I don’t think my mother approves of it”) but did at least manage another round of tea and some cinnamon pastries before leaving to take care of some “routine business”. Fluttershy tucked into her breakfast calmly enough, and even Rarity seemed less irritable today. Fancy wondered what she’d been dreaming, but he thought it prudent not to say anything. Instead, he brought up the question that had been playing on his mind constantly. “Where in the name of Tirek are we?” Rarity frowned at Fancy’s coarse language, but said, “We could be absolutely anywhere, darling. The fact that we saw those coruscations mean translocation magic must have been involved, but I’m afraid I can’t tell what type it was.” “We could be somewhere in the West,” put in Fluttershy hesitantly. “The climate and flora seem to be similar, so I think it must be about the same latitude. The birds too, though I haven’t seen any from close up to be sure.” Rarity nodded. “It’s certainly possible. But who knows?” She sighed, suddenly downcast. “Twilight would.” Fluttershy gave her friend a quick squeeze. “I’m sorry – I know how much you miss her,” she said. “Not just Twilight!” insisted Rarity. “Pinkie and Rainbow and everypony else, too!” “I know,” said Fluttershy, a sad smile playing across her lips, “but none of them are your special somepony.” Fancy felt mildly awkward. Rarity and Twilight’s budding relationship was no secret these days, but he still wished he could leave the others to their girl talk. He was saved the problem of whether to say anything when Sandcastle came in and reported that permission had been given for their not-quite-prisoners to be released from the guard post and allowed to go on their way. “Ah, jolly good,” said Fancy Pants. “Top brass gave us the nod, eh?” “Something like that,” said Sandcastle, though he would not elaborate. “In any case,” he continued, “it’s not an unconditional release. Nopony will be going anywhere until your guide gets here. There could be Greenmanes,” he added with a slight but noticeable shudder. “Greenmanes!” said Rarity. “We saw a—” “I’m sure you did,” interrupted Sandcastle. “Who doesn’t, these days? Save your explanations for the city authorities. They’ll certainly expect some.” Softly, Fluttershy asked, “What do you mean by guide? We all thought you were just sending for another guard.” Sandcastle blinked. “What? Why would we do that? If all we needed was to guard you, we could do that right here by ourselves. But we have our orders, it’s a dangerous road—and, ma’am, you are a pegasus.” His use of the honorific after having held the three in – admittedly polite – overnight custody grated a little on Fancy’s ears, but he held his tongue and let Fluttershy reply for herself. “Why is that important?” Shining Mane cut in. “Simple enough. Your companions are both unicorns. From our observations, they are not sufficiently powerful mages to overcome a little restraining enchantment. However, should you get out of range, there would not be a lot I could do – or Sandcastle, come to that – to bring you back. You could go anywhere, and that is not something the Forces are prepared to risk.” Rarity, roused again, snapped, “You threw her far enough yesterday!” “I had the benefit of surprise. If Fluttershy here had the same—well, you see my point, I’m sure.” He gestured to her and Fancy Pants. “All right, you two: clothes off, please.” “I beg your pardon?” said Fancy, considerably taken aback. “Clothes off. Our orders are to search them thoroughly, and we’d prefer to do that while you’re not wearing them. Things can get a little awkward otherwise.” “Awkward!” scoffed Rarity. “Awkward!?” Shining Mane shrugged. “Not you, of course. We’ll provide you with a travelling cloak.” He looked at Sandcastle, who nodded slightly. “We’d better give you one too, Fluttershy. That dress of yours is most unsuitable for the journey ahead.” Rarity bristled, but Sandcastle held up a forehoof. “It’s a very fine dress, ma’am, but it’s unsuitable for hard travelling. It’s three days from here to the city. Once we’ve searched it, you can have it back, but it’ll have to go in your saddlebags. We’ll provide those, too,” he added with a slight air of weariness as Rarity opened her mouth. “And as for me?” asked Fancy. Sandcastle looked him up and down. “You’ll be all right as you are, I think, sir. Stallions’ suits are a little more practical than the ladies’ equivalent. We’ll still need to search your jacket, though.” There was nothing more to say, with Rarity’s protestations about the impropriety of it all eliciting only increasingly irritable glares from the guards. Fluttershy’s dress was quickly searched and returned, but it took considerably longer before Fancy’s jacket had been inspected to the guards’ satisfaction. They were respectful of a photo of Fleur once Fancy had explained, but a small silver case in an inside pocket drew more searching questions. “Ah yes, my travel backgammon set,” said Fancy Pants. “A gift from Silver Cloud. My butler,” he added to more raised eyebrows. “Do you play? It’s a rather jolly game.” They didn’t. At length, Fancy was allowed to dress while the mares were given their brown woollen cloaks. Fluttershy donned hers without complaint; Rarity grudgingly accepted that they were well made, “though dreadfully unflattering”. The three ponies were then issued with saddlebags, all of them plain grey with the letters “EF” in dark blue capitals; this apparently stood for nothing more exciting than “Equestrian Forces”. There was a knock at the door. Shining Mane went to answer and exchanged salutes with the pegasus junior officer standing outside. The newcomer was probably a mare, though Fancy could see only part of one foreleg behind the bulk of the guard’s body. In the thin early morning light, he couldn’t quite be certain of the pony’s colouring, but she seemed to have a coat of a plain light colour, perhaps green or grey. Shining Mane turned his head back to address Fancy and his companions. “This is Flight Sergeant Rainbow Dash. She will accompany you to Canterlot.” 3. Colours and Collars“All right, everypony, what’s all the staring in aid of?” Flight Sergeant Rainbow Dash set her head on one side and ran a grey-green hoof through her close-cropped black mane. Fancy noticed the soft shimmer of an enchanted collar around her neck and wondered what its purpose might be. “I, er, that is to say—” he started, but Fluttershy gently cut across him. “Oh, we don’t mean to be rude,” she said. “It’s just that we have a friend named Rainbow Dash. We were simply a little surprised to meet another pony with that name.” Rainbow rolled her eyes; they were, distractingly, exactly the same shade of cerise as the Ponyville Rainbow Dash’s. “Why? Ponies are allowed to share names, you know.” Fancy recovered himself. “But, well, your mane… it isn’t exactly, ah...” He trailed off and gave a small, apologetic shake of a forehoof. The guide sighed. “Rainbow? My goodness me, how observant. I can see I’ll have to get up early in the morning to match you.” The heavy sarcasm in her voice softened only slightly as she gestured towards the open door. “Which is handy. Mind you, this is something we will all need to get used to.” She turned to Sandcastle. “Permission to brief the strangers, sir?” Sandcastle nodded briskly. “Carry on, Flight Sergeant.” Rainbow turned to address the others. “Now then,” she said. “Listen to what I have to say. I don’t want to waste time repeating myself.” Her manner was direct, almost curt and there was scarcely a trace of a regional accent. She sounded nothing like the Rainbow Dash Fancy knew. “We’re listening,” said Fluttershy. “Good. Now shut up. This is important. The road to Canterlot can be a dangerous one, and we need to take that seriously. That means everypony. I do not intend to end up dead because my charges didn’t pay attention. “If you’re expecting the level of comfort you enjoyed last night,” she went on, nodding towards the guard hut’s side room, “then you can forget about that right now. We will be sleeping in the open, and we will most definitely not be having any cosy lie-ins. We will be leaving immediately. Any questions? Yes?” she added as Rarity raised a hoof. “Do we have to call you Rainbow Dash?” she asked. “It does feel a little odd. Perhaps we could call you Sarge or something?” “You can call me Flight Sergeant,” barked the guide. “Flight will do if you really must, but I worked damn hard to get promoted from sergeant, and I do not expect to be addressed as one again. Is that clear?” She turned to Shining Mane. “I should like to pass out the collars to the strangers, sir.” “Very good, Flight Sergeant. Take them yourself.” “Sir.” Flight rummaged in a large chest by the back wall and produced three collars. They were of a tarnished silver metal and much too thin to be used in hauling. Each was studded with tiny blue gems. Fancy Pants smelt the faint tinny aura of magic around the collars, and glancing to the side he saw that Rarity’s ears had also pricked up. Flight turned to the three. “Get these on.” Fluttershy took her collar with a quizzical expressions but began to slide it over her ears. Fancy accepted his in silence and, after a moment, he followed suit. There was no obvious way out other than by going with Flight, and it was clear that they were going nowhere until the collars were on. They would just have to take the chance— Rarity exploded. “If you think I’m putting that grubby trinket around my neck, you have another think coming! It’s utterly revolting!” She subsided a little. “Do be a dear, Flight Sergeant,” she wheedled. “Surely you could find me something a teensy bit cleaner?” “Would you prefer it if I shoved it onto you myself?” Flight’s voice rose a little. “Because that’s what will happen if you don’t get it around your lily-white neck right this minute.” “So then,” said Rarity acidly as she complied, “it seems we are prisoners after all. Or are you going to tell us some other reason for the fact that we are being forced to don multigem collars?” When Flight looked surprised, Rarity added, “Am I to take it, then, that you have somehow not noticed my cutie mark?” Flight walked over to her and fixed her with a glare. “Tell me,” she said, “if you were me and I were you, what would you do? Yes they are multigem collars, yes I do know which enchantments they hold, no I’m not telling you – and no, they are not coming off until we get to Canterlot. Those are my orders, and I did not make Flight Sergeant by making things up as I went along. You don’t seem like a total idiot to me, so why are you trying to persuade me otherwise?” “I say,” said Fancy Pants. “That’s a bit off, don’t you think?” Flight’s head whipped around. Her glare had increased in intensity and Fancy could almost feel it burning the back of his head. He said nothing further but removed his monocle to wipe it, simply for the sake of filling the yawning silence that had opened up. “In case you lot hadn’t noticed,” said Flight eventually, “there is one of me. I may have excellent stamina, but staying awake for 72 hours is a little beyond even me. I don’t know whether you’d be thick enough to go traipsing off into country you know nothing about in the middle of the night, but I am not prepared to take that risk, and neither is the Protector.” “The Protector?” asked Rarity. “Oh my stars, clearly you are that thick. How lovely for us all. You’ll see the Protector soon enough when we get to Canterlot, and you would do well to learn some common sense before we get there.” “I’m sorry,” said Fluttershy, “but Rarity asked you a reasonable question. I really don’t think you’re behaving very well.” “Boo hoo,” cut in Sandcastle. “This isn’t kindergarten. I did ask you yesterday whether you wanted a complaint form. It’s a bit late for that now. Besides,” he added with a twisted smile, “there is an alternative to the collars, actually. It’s called being tethered to trees like animals each night. If you’d prefer that, just say the word. I’m sure it could be arranged.” Flight gave an appreciative chuckle and retreated a few paces, allowing her to address the three apparently-now-prisoners. When she spoke again, her tone was blunt. “Do you know how to kill?” Fancy floundered and flannelled, but a quiet voice to his left said, “Yes.” He looked around, startled, to see tears welling in Fluttershy’s eyes as she stared fixedly at her hooves. He opened his mouth to speak, stopping short when he caught the tiniest of head-shakes from Rarity beyond her. “Good,” said Flight. “Rarity?” “I can fight,” she said. “That’s not what I asked.” Rarity took a breath and answered, “I have never yet taken a pony’s life and I would never wish to do so.But—” her mind’s eye looked back through the years and images of manticores and dragons danced in her head “—if I had to do so to save my friends… yes, I believe I could.” Flight pursed her lips. “You won’t have time to think about it when a Greenmane has a foreleg across your throat. You will kill her right there and then – or you will die. ‘I believe’ is no bloody good – do you think your assailant will stop and wait for you to make your mind up? No. She will kill you. She’s done it before and she will do it again. Why do you think she’s still alive?” Before Rarity could answer, Flight turned to Fancy. Her expression screamed “Can you do anything useful?”, but all she said aloud was, “You may have to find out.” * * * There was, at least, no need to carry provisions. Browsing was hardly the most enjoyable way to fill one’s stomach, but the low wooded hills through which the ponies were travelling were lushly carpeted with soft, springy grass. The occasional clump of small flowers or bush bearing edible berries leavened the monotony a little, but for the most part it was a diet of grass, grass and more grass. Flight seemed intimately familiar with the area they were passing through and guided them to bubbling springs and rushing streams where they could quench their thirst. They went at an even pace but by no means a slow one, and by late afternoon Fancy’s muscles were beginning to ache, despite the welcome lightness of his saddlebags. He thought back to high school treks with the cadets in Trottingham and smiled ruefully, wishing he’d taken those weekends a little more seriously. Looking about him, he saw that Fluttershy had taken to the air and was gliding a couple of feet off the ground, perhaps to give her legs a rest. Rarity, who had said little all morning, was trotting alongside her and exchanging what seemed to be pleasantries; Fancy couldn’t quite make out the words. Perhaps they were simply discussing the best ways to make tea. Flight was currently high in the sky, scouting ahead for any trouble. She barely looked down at the others – the multigem collars around their necks precluded any worry that they would dash off into some untamed wood. Flight’s explanation had been terse, but Fancy had gathered that the intricate lattice of the various gems’ magical enchantments would hold the prisoners – he allowed himself the use of the word now – within range of their so-called guide. The collars’ magic was great; Rarity had admitted that even her deep knowledge of the properties of gems would not help them here. While Flight had been on a previous reconnaissance, Rarity had whispered that she knew of an unlocking spell from a book in the depths of Twilight’s library archives, but that it was a difficult one that was awkward and even dangerous to cast. A mage with the ability of Twilight – or perhaps Starlight – might have been able to untangle the latticework with enough time and concentration, but she had not that power. “And where would we go to?” Fluttershy had asked. There was no answer to that: they knew nothing of this strange Equestria beyond the little they had seen since the previous afternoon. And then there’s me, thought Fancy with a sort of amused resignation. The other one. He was under increasingly little illusion about the fact that he was comprehensively outdone by all three mares in the adventuring department. It was easy to forget that in her time meek and gentle Fluttershy had faced down a dragon and a cockatrice and reduced a Storm Guard to tears, unarmed and alone. Fancy wondered why Flight, who had never known her, had seemed so unsurprised about her straightforward reply back at the guard post. Flight’s yell of “Trouble!” interrupted Fancy’s thoughts. She was heading back towards the others at full pelt and, some moments later, landed inelegantly a few yards away. “I say, what’s going on?” asked Fancy. Flight seemed in no mood to explain. “Trouble,” she repeated. “Come on! Into the trees!” She hustled them all off the road and into a clumpy, dense copse fifty feet away with such efficiency and speed that they were out of sight in seconds. “Well, Flight Sergeant,” hissed Rarity, “now are you going to tell us the reason for this uncouth behaviour?” “If you want,” muttered Flight. “There’s a whole bloody herd of Greenmanes coming this way.” “Is that bad?” asked Fluttershy. “Oh, not really,” said Flight. “Not if you like being robbed at knifepoint and left as a snack for any passing wolves. If you’re a fan of that kind of thing, then no, it’s not bad at all. You’ll love the Greenmanes, I’m sure. Maybe you can go ask them round for a cup of tea.” “Robbed!” exclaimed Fancy. “But we barely have a bit between us! Everything at the party was laid on.” “I see,” said Flight. “And what do you think will happen when they find that out? You think they’re going to leave us a scolding note saying ‘Don’t do it again, you naughty ponies’ or spare us a bit for a mug of cider? No. They’re going to get angry. Especially when they see that.” Flight nodded at the EM on Fancy's saddlebags. “And when a Greenmane gets angry you do not want to get in her way unless you are damn sure you can kill her right there and then.Otherwise? It will very likely be the last thing you ever do.” Rarity spoke up. “Perhaps you could tell us something about these Greenmanes? We thought we saw a pony with a green mane yesterday, before we met the guards. Everypony has been terribly mysterious about them.” “Shut your stupid trap.” This was spoken quietly and slowly, yet with an intensity that shocked Fancy Pants and forced Rarity into silence. Fancy considered protesting but pulled back as he heard the hoofsteps in the distance. The wind was against him, but listening hard he was fairly sure there were wheels on the road as well, a thought that was only confirmed as they drew nearer. Before long, he could make out the ponies approaching. He was not prepared for the sight. There were in fact only four in the group, all with manes of a rich, dark green. To Fancy’s style-conscious eyes, the colouring did not look natural: it was simply too regular. Two unicorn mares flanked a pair of Earth pony stallions, who were hauling a light cart which held nothing but a large rectangular item swathed in layers of soft black cloth. As they passed the hiding place, its corner slipped slightly. It was a mirror. Rarity let out a gasp that she stifled almost at once. Fancy’s heart hammered like a carpenter on double time, but the Greenmanes didn’t appear to have noticed the sound and continued their movement. He willed himself to stay utterly still, despite the burning ache that was beginning to fill his muscles, and thought about what he had seen. If he was right about the reason for Rarity’s reaction… Once the sound had died away, Fancy, Rarity and Fluttershy turned as one to look expectantly at Flight. After a short eternity, she nodded. “Well,” she said when they were all on the road once more, “this is not good. This is not good at all. Looks like we won’t be going to Canterlot just yet. Let’s just hope we get there at all. First, we’re going back west. Fast. Right now. And you, Fluttershy, will be flying with me. You other two, follow us at full gallop. Nothing less will do. You'll have to carry our saddlebags as well as yours; there's nothing else for it.” “But what about the collars?” asked Fluttershy. Flight gave a humourless smile and patted her own collar with a tenderness that was almost affectionate. Fancy got the distinct impression that she’d worn it many times before. “You keep those on. Believe me, the Wing Commander allowed for things like this when she hoofed these out. They won’t be a problem so long as the unicorns are following me directly. But know this: if they set just one hoof off the road, I will know about it and they will regret it.” He looked slowly from Rarity to Fancy Pants, meeting each pony’s gaze, before turning back to Fluttershy. “Now: what did I ask you back at the guard post? Fluttershy shuddered and screwed up her eyes. “Whether we knew how to kill.” “That’s right,” said Flight, her eyes hard as flint. “And you, Fluttershy, were the only one who told me straight away that you did.” Fluttershy’s eyes were still closed and her face tense, but eventually she forced out a tiny, “Yes.” Flight looked at her for long moments then turned away, her expression grim. “I hope you meant it.” 4. The Wild TimeFancy Pants ran on. He was trying not to think about how much his body ached all over, with the promise of far more brutal punishment to come. He ventured a glance to the side and saw that Rarity was also finding things tough. Neither of them was a natural runner, though undoubtedly Rarity’s muscles and reflexes had been honed by her years of adventure with the other Bearers. Fluttershy was gliding by her side, encouraging her as best she could. Fancy considered once again the minimal instructions Flight had given them before they set off. They must stop the Greenmanes at all costs from reaching the guard post, where despite Sandcastle’s Earth pony strength he and Shining Mane would surely not be able to hold off four attackers for long. Fancy ruminated on “at all costs” – an easy phrase with a very hard reality. He wondered, too, why he was on the verge of a skirmish in a conflict he knew almost nothing about. In formal attire, at that; he couldn’t suppress a little chuckle at the thought. Fancy, Rarity and Fluttershy had by this time adopted the name “Strangers” as their own. It did at least lessen the confusion a little, given that Flight considered herself an Equestrian just as much as the others did. Fancy had so many questions for the gruff pegasus, but that would have to wait until— “Up!” gasped Rarity, and Fancy raised his head to see that Flight and Fluttershy had come almost to a halt, so high in the sky that he had to squint to make them out as anything more than specks. Undoubtedly their quarries would have heard the unicorns’ hoofbeats by now, but as long as they had not spotted the two pegasi the Greenmanes would not know for sure how large the pursuing group was – thus ceding a crucial element of surprise. Even if they had been seen, only the greatest archers or most potent spell-casters would be able to reach an enemy who stayed that far aloft. Unfortunately, that would mean two against four, and neither Fancy nor Rarity had sufficient power to overcome even average unicorns when their strength was augmented by a couple of Earth ponies. The only way, therefore, was for the pegasi to harry the Greenmanes from above, relying on their speed and dexterity in the air and distracting them while the unicorns made short, sharp attacks. Fancy bit his lip. The other three had seen combat before, but he had not, at least beyond the mock battles of his cadet years. Once again he wondered what he was doing out here – and whether he would ever see Fleur again. “Go!” screamed Flight from somewhere above. Fancy looked up just in time to see the Greenmane unicorns’ horns aglow. A moment later, he realised there was a yellow blur barrelling down towards the green-haired quartet. Then one of the Earth ponies looked up too—at the very moment that Fluttershy’s hooves made contact with the side of his neck. Fancy didn’t hear the impact, but he saw the Greenmane crumple immediately to the ground. He redirected his gaze to the front as he closed on the others. The time for wondering was over. * * * A stillness descended, punctuated only by the heavy breathing of four ponies. The other four, sprawled in the dirt, made no sound at all. “Right,” said Flight, “Three out cold and one… going cold. I’d have liked to have taken them all alive, but we can’t be too fussy.” He turned to Fluttershy. “So, I have to admit I’m impressed,” he said. “You really can kill.” “Oh goodness, that pony isn’t dead,” said Fluttershy, eyes wide. “I could never do a thing like that. He’s just unconscious, like the others.” Flight stopped in her tracks. “What?” Fluttershy smiled wanly. “He’s in a deeper sleep than the other three – I did manage to make sure of that – but he’ll wake up again eventually, when his wounds are a little easier for him to bear.” “What?” said Flight again, in that even tone which so often hides a world of disbelief. “But you told me you could kill!” “I know,” said Fluttershy. “But you didn’t ask me what you meant by that. I mean—” here her voice wavered and her ears drooped “—I’ve helped critters who had nowhere else to go. Sometimes it’s kinder to help them find their way to the Great Beyond. Many times,” she added in a whisper. “But never, never a pony.” “So what did…?” Flight trailed off, exasperated. Fluttershy scuffed a hoof. “I’m not a doctor, but I know a lot about pony anatomy. It’s not that different from… from some animals.” Fancy looked away. As he swung his head around, he caught sight of Rarity, holding herself unnaturally still and tense. Her eyes spoke of secrets never to be told between her and Fluttershy, and Fancy felt deeply uncomfortable for having seen even the briefest glimpse. He shook his head hard in a fruitless attempt to forget the sight, then realised that Flight had been talking to him. He looked up into her questioning face. “Er, I do apologise,” he said. “In a world of my own there, eh?” Flight quirked aneyebrow impatiently. “Um,” continued Fancy, “I’m afraid I didn’t catch what you said. Awfully sorry and all that, but could you perhaps repeat it?” “I suppose I should be grateful for small mercies,” said Flight. “If you’d done that a few minutes ago we’d probably all be dead.” She emphasised the final word as if to underscore her point, though Fancy needed no telling exactly how fortunate they had been. “Anyway,” she went on, “what I said was: help me get these ponies trussed up and onto the cart. I could do it myself, but a horn works faster than wings.” “All right. But what then?” “Then we take them off to Sandy and Shiny.” Fancy couldn’t suppress a giggle. “Something funny?” Flight’s tone suggested there had better not be. Fancy waved a hoof. “No, no. Do carry on.” “And on the way, I’ll fill you all in.” “Fill us in on what?” “On the Greenmanes! Stars above, could you and the mares maybe think about letting me know when you’re going to go into Idiot Mode again?” Rarity stomped across and shoved her muzzle in Flight’s face, saying, “I really have had enough of this. We’ve been held prisoner, fitted with these infernal multigem collars and made to fight. I don’t mind a bit of danger now and again, but I would like to know what this is all about without this quite unnecessary impoliteness.” Fluttershy backed her up. “Rarity is right. You may be our guard but there is no reason to be rude.” Flight smiled slightly at Fluttershy’s tone, but backed off at a glance from Rarity. Fancy shifted awkwardly, a corner of his backgammon case pressing uncomfortably against his hide through the lining of his jacket. “All right.” Flight motioned for the others to sit down. “Looks like we’re going to have ourselves a nice campfire story. No s’mores, I’m afraid. Tonight’s special is scorched dandelion. On the house.” “Oh, do get on with it,” grumbled Rarity. “Well,” said Flight, “you know some of it already. You are in a Restricted Zone, I am taking you to Canterlot to see the Protector, you are going to have to have a bloody good explanation. That fight with the Greenmanes will help, but it won’t be enough.” “But who are the Greenmanes?” pressed Fancy. “I do rather object to fighting when I don’t know why I’m doing it.” “So why did you?” “I, ah, well… dash it all.” “I do my best,” said Flight Sergeant Rainbow Dash, with the faintest of smiles. “Ah, my apologies. Well, it’s a rum thing, but—look here, you’re still not answering my actual question.” Flight said, “Okay, you want the plain truth? Here it is. The Greenmanes have been around for years, before my time even. Until recently, the Protector considered them harmless lunatics and left them alone. When they started burning carts—not so much. They want a green Equestria.” “What do you mean, a green Equestria?” asked Fluttershy. “They want us all to go back to the Wild Time.” “What was the Wild Time?” asked Fluttershy. “I thought so,” said Flight. When Fluttershy furrowed her brow, Flight continued, “I’ve never done magic, but I know a lot about mirror anatomy. I know you don’t belong here. So will the Protector, but that’s for another day.” Flight settled into a more relaxed position. “The Wild Time was exactly what it sounds like. There were no cities, no towns, no guards, not even any real roads. Ponies lived in small herds, browsing on what food they could find. Some even hunted or fished. I’ve been fishing myself, as it happens.” “But you’re a pony!” cried Rarity, screwing up her face in distaste. “Well spotted. There’s no reason ponies can’t eat meat. I’m sure Fluttershy will tell you that, if you don’t know it yourself.” Fluttershy blanched, but gave a tiny noise of agreement. “If you were adrift in an ocean boat with a spear, surrounded by fish and seabirds, you’d eat it too. Or would you prefer to starve in a bulging larder?” “But—” Rarity began again. “I overheard you talking about your cat. Where do you think her food comes from? From what I’ve heard of her, she sure as hay doesn’t catch it all herself. “In any case,” Flight went on as Rarity opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, “that is what the Wild Timers did. For centuries. Until, so the tale goes, one wandering tribe met another near what is now Canterlot. They listened to each other’s legends and realised that not only did the land they had spoken of for so long truly exist, but that they were standing in it. They took it as a sign and began to build. It took many years, but at last a city stood on the spot. “To most ponies, that was the end of darkness. But to a few, it was simply the end. They said that ponies were natural creatures, of the earth and the clouds and the auras. Cities were unnatural and cursed. They began to colour their manes green as a symbol of their wish for Equestrians to become browsers again. Everything that went wrong in the new Canterlot was a judgement from the Moon Empress.” Flight waited for Rarity’s coughing fit to subside. “As I told you before, for a long time the Greenmanes were no more than a fringe group of lunatics. But then the choking clouds came. To this day, nopony knows where from—but the Greenmanes knew. So they said, though I have my doubts. It was the Judgement of Judgements, and Canterlot must fall. Their numbers began to grow, very slowly at first. But eventually, the Protector of the day ordered their banishment from the city. She was prepared for a fight, but there was none. They left almost joyfully. “After a year, the attacks began. The Protector acted swiftly and declared the Restricted Zone, with the Flying Corps reformed to defend it, and so it has been ever since.” * * * It was almost dark by the time they reached the guard post. There had been no further alarms, but Fancy was concerned to see that Rarity was clearly favouring her left hind leg. She’d waved off Fluttershy when she had attempted to take a closer look, telling her to look after herself first, and Flight had pronounced it “nothing to worry about” – but pegasi could take their weight off their hooves when they needed to. Excepting the very few unicorns capable of self-levitation, their tribe could not, and without the iron constitution of most Earth ponies they were uniquely vulnerable to leg injuries. They were also going to be late getting to Canterlot. Flight didn’t seem especially concerned by this, but Sandcastle seemed to be fretting slightly. Shining Mane too, though he had at least remembered to handle sending a message to the capital. Fancy wondered how, given the lack of trains and dragons in the vicinity. Perhaps the large unicorn could teleport, though that was hardly a common ability. He was too tired to ask. On the plus side, their accommodation was nicer this time, with the Greenmanes locked in the side room, and their aching bodies welcomed sleep. Before that, there was yet more tea. Flight and the Strangers set off at dawn once more. It was good to be trotting again, rather than galloping in desperate pursuit, and Rarity in particular clearly appreciated the easier pace. Flight decided that they should camp at the spot where they had first met the Greenmanes, as the road beyond that point was unfamiliar to the Strangers. They arrived in early evening and so could allow themselves to take things slowly when building their fire. Scratching his head as the four of them sat around the crackling pile, Fancy said, “Well, it is rather nice to have a fire. But isn’t it going to attract attention? You must be able to see it from an awfully long way off!” “It might,” said Flight. “It might. And if it attracts the wrong sort of attention, we’ll have to be ready.” He looked from weary face to weary face. “Yes. It is hard out here. But that’s why we have a Restricted Zone in the first place.” Fancy looked down at his jacket and picked irritably at a tear in the lapel, where a button had been ripped off during the fighting. He patted it down a bit and winced as a hard edge pressed against a bruise on his chest. Then he brightened. “Well,” Fancy said, pulling out the silver box. “Shall we do something a little more, ah, relaxing?” Fluttershy proved to be a demon backgammon player.
1. Smoke and MirrorsAuthor's Note This story is being written primarily to get me past a block that's been stubbornly hanging on for ages. Also because I like Fancy Pants, admittedly. I was thinking about keeping the fic as a private exercise, but a couple of friends said they'd like to read it. I'll be putting the story's chapters out much faster than normal, so don't expect miracles. Still, maybe you'd like to join me on the journey. If so, hang on: it's likely to be a bumpy ride! 1. Smoke and Mirrors “We’re not under attack, then? Good show.” Fancy Pants got to his hooves and looked around. There was still too much smoke drifting around to see very much, but there didn’t seem to be any strange and eldritch monsters – or indeed ordinary, common-or-garden monsters – bearing down on him. He spotted an elegant white hoof and trotted over to make its acquaintance. “Well,” said the cloud from which the hoof protruded. “Well.” Fancy couldn’t help but agree, though nodding seemed somewhat pointless in the circumstances. Instead he said to the cloud, “I do hope you haven’t been hurt.” “Oh no,” said Rarity. “I’m just wondering what this ridiculous display was in aid of. Twilight,” she added darkly, “will be getting a piece of my mind when I see her.” The smoke had cleared a little more and Fancy spotted a green mane sprouting from a bush in the middle distance. He opted not to tell Rarity about it. He considered going to speak to the princess himself but held back; friendly as she generally was, she was Equestrian royalty and there was a time and a place. At this moment, a thought struck him. “Er… Rarity,” he ventured. “Yes?” “Where is everypony?” “We’ll have to wait until we can see before we know that, won’t we?” said Rarity, the irritation clear in her voice. “And then we can see what damage this silliness has done to the castle garden.” Fancy coughed as politely as he could. “Well, that’s just it, you see. I’m not at all sure that this is the castle garden.” “I beg your pardon?” The smoke was much thinner now and the grass was clearly visible for several yards in each direction. It was a beautiful shade of green, the stalks fat and juicy. An iridescent blue beetle clambered among the stalks close to Fancy’s hooves, and he regarded it solemnly for a moment before turning back to Rarity. Her head was still lost in the haze, but the rest of her body was visible. She really was not going to be impressed when she saw the state of her dress. Still, there were more important matters to discuss, although Fancy would not have put it in quite those terms. “Dash it all, where are the croquet hoops?” There was a long, heavy silence before Rarity answered. “The croquet… hoops?” “Well… yes. Where are they?” The last word ended on a jumping upward note as a pegasus almost landed on top of him. He bit back an expression of annoyance as he realised who it was. “Ah, Fluttershy,” he said. “I’m awfully relieved to see you’re all right. Do you know what’s going on? Is this one of Princess Twilight’s more spectacular party tricks, perhaps? Can you see better from aloft?” “Oh no, I don’t think so. Twilight would never teleport her friends without a warning – it would be ever so dangerous.” Fluttershy brushed a twig from her mane and patted down her beautifully simple yet utterly exquisite green dress. “I still can’t see very well even from the sky, but I managed to get up high enough to see the last of the coruscations dissipating.” There was a squeak from Rarity’s direction. Fancy ignored it, asking, “Coruscations?” “Oh, goodness, of course you don’t know. I don’t understand it very well myself, but Twilight calls them ‘the visible protrusions of runaway translocation magic’. Um, I think.” She blushed slightly, in a way that would have set dozens of ponies swooning had they been there to see it. A nasty feeling somewhere between ice and slime ran up Fancy’s neck. He took a deep breath, but the sound of Rarity walking purposefully towards him hurried him into his next utterance. “So she has been teleporting us without permission!” said Fancy, with rather more vehemence than he intended. “She,” said an icy voice, “is the cat’s mother.” Rarity at last appeared fully, her gaze locked on the stallion’s. “Princess Twilight Sparkle,” she continued, enunciating every syllable as though she were the poshest Canterlot filly at finishing school, “has not been teleporting us at all. Nor, might I add, Mister Pants, does she need permission from monocled fools like you to cast magic. I dare say she knew more spells than you do now when she was a mewling filly in a crib.” Fluttershy put out a conciliatory wing and turned to Rarity. “Maybe we should tell Mr Fancy Pants—” “Just Fancy, please, my dear.” “She is not your dear!” spat Rarity, but Fluttershy’s gentle hoof on her shoulder took the sting from her anger. “I am sorry, Fluttershy. Please continue.” “Well,” said Fluttershy, “maybe we should explain to, um, Fancy about coruscations?” Rarity humphed. “That’s easy enough to tell. They are gleams of light—rather wonderful in their way—that appear when a very particular type of mirror is smashed.” Fancy thought about this for a moment, then grimaced. “Ah.” “Indeed,” said Rarity. “Ah.” “Quite so.” “But why?” said Fluttershy. “Twilight would never play that kind of prank. Pinkie Pie would be absolutely furi—” “And where is Pinkie?” interrupted Rarity. “And where is everypony else, for that matter? Come to that, where are we?” With the mist now not much more than scrappy patches floating across what for comfort’s sake Fancy had continued to think of as the lawn, the stallion looked across to where he’d seen the green mane. There was no sign of it now; indeed, there was no sign of anything Fancy recognised. No castle, no boating lake, no ornamental shrubbery. And certainly no croquet hoops. There was, however, a road. It ran from west to east, and in both directions disappeared into low grassy hills before it had gone much distance. It was a well made road, smooth and dark, wide enough for two carriages to pass at speed without much difficulty. There was no signpost. “Now what?” asked Fluttershy. Fancy scratched his head. “I am rather flummoxed,” he admitted. “This certainly isn’t the Canterlot road, unless the work parties have really been putting in the hours lately.” He paused. “Look… shall we go and find that green-maned pony?” The two mares turned as one to look at him. “What green-maned pony?” they said in unison. Fancy explained what he had seen. The others agreed that they should find this pony, but after a long search there was no sign and they reluctantly left off. It was either that or camp here, in what for now at least remained a completely unknown land. “I think we should leave a marker,” said Fluttershy as they reached the road. “We could make some twigs into an arrow to point the way. If that pony is still here, she’ll know which way we’re going and she’ll be able to catch up with us.” Rarity pointed out that right now, they didn’t know which way they were going. Before they could decide, Rarity insisted on removing her grass-stained and torn party dress, and further insisted on doing so behind a tree “as we are in mixed company”. Fancy caught the tiniest giggle from Fluttershy but said nothing. A short discussion followed and in the end the ponies chose east simply so that they would not have to squint into the low late-afternoon sun. They placed two arrows, one of twigs and one of pebbles, on a stump by the road. “Time we were off, I’d say,” said Fancy. “Though off to where is quite another question. Ah well, I imagine we shall find out.” The unicorns set off at a moderate trot, and Fluttershy chose to do the same rather than fly. The air was pleasant and the weather mild, and with a fine road beneath his horseshoes Fancy caught himself almost enjoying being out in the fresh air in the middle of whoever-knew-where with two such elegant mares. Fleur doesn’t know what she’s missing, he said to himself. A pang of the heart reminded him of what he was missing, so he forced himself to engage in small talk with Rarity and Fluttershy. Rarity was still a little curt with him, and Fluttershy though charming was unwilling to be drawn into deep conversations. He settled for chatting in a bright and brittle way about nothing in particular, much as he had done at the garden party itself. After a while Fancy hung back a little and allowed the two mares to talk among themselves while he filled his mind with a hotch-potch of half-remembered poems from his school days, his favourite rustic folk songs and the intricacies of the Schleich-Holsteiner Prob— The sudden darkening of the sky was not due to the sun slipping behind the hills. It was caused by two extremely large stallions blocking the road. They were both sand-coloured and lightly armoured, although the Earth pony to the left didn’t look as though he’d be stopped by anything short of an army of hydras. Fancy’s attention was however more drawn to the unicorn, whose horn-tip was already crackling with pink power – and it was pointed directly at him. Rarity and Fluttershy were nowhere to be seen.
2. More Questions than AnswersFancy Pants drained the last of his tea. Though lukewarm, it was of good quality and still refreshing to a certain degree. He levitated the empty cup down to the saucer and looked up at the nearer of the guardsponies. “It was dashed impolite, even so,” he said mildly. The unicorn guard shrugged, his armour clanking softly as he did so and the shadows he made dancing in the lamplight. Fancy waited, but the guard said nothing. Instead it was his comrade-in-arms who spoke up, in a deep but surprisingly soft and gentle voice for so hefty a stallion. “Would you like to fill out a complaint form?” said the Earth pony, an edge of sarcasm in his tone. Rarity butted in. “A complaint form? Really? You two… ruffians grab hold of us like that—” “Shining Mane didn’t even touch you!” “Hah!” scoffed Rarity, her eyebrows shooting up. “Does magical grip not count, then? I am sorry, but when my friend and I are thrown into a bush – some considerable distance, I might add – and then this gentlecolt suffers a similar fate merely for asking if he can be of assistance, I am inclined to consider that – well, ‘impolite’ is not the half of it.” “There was,” rumbled the other guard, “a reason.” “Which you have singularly failed to explain.” Fluttershy raised her head. “This tea really is nice,” she said. Rarity gave her a brief, thin smile and patted her shoulder; Fluttershy responded with a slight sigh of irritation and repeated her comment a little louder. “It is, rather,” said Fancy. “To be perfectly honest with you, it reminds me a little of the tea you served me earlier on. I must say, that was anawfully refreshing cup – and from what I’ve been told, your tea parties in Ponyville are very pleasant little affairs.” “Thank you,” said Fluttershy with a slight blush. “I really should invite you to one sometime.” She turned to Shining Mane. “Where do you get it from?” “My mother sends it out,” said Shining Mane. “She’s been sending me care packages since I was in college and I doubt she’s going to stop now. To tell you the truth, I don’t think she trusts us to eat properly.” He shrugged. “But I’m afraid we can’t sit here chatting.” He scratched his right foreleg with a hoof and looked to his fellow guard. “Sandcastle?” The Earth pony cleared his throat. “In the name of Equestria—” The ponies’ eyebrows shot up. “—and by the powers invested in me by the Defence of the Nation Act as well as my current position as—” “We’re still in Equestria!” whispered Fancy to his companions. “I say, that really is a stroke of luck.” “—oyal Guard Lieutenant Sandcastle, serial number AP835, I am both empowered and required to ask you to provide your full names and the nature of your business in this Restricted Zone.” Fluttershy and Rarity exchanged glances. “Now hang on a moment,” said Fancy. “Since when have there been Restricted Zones in Equestria?” The guardsponies simply stared. It was Fluttershy who spoke up first. “I’m sure we didn’t mean to cause any problems for you,” she said. “We understand that you have a difficult job here. I do hope we’re not doing anything wrong?” Sandcastle rubbed his neck a little. “Technically, no,” he said. “You do have to answer our questions, though, otherwise I will need to take steps. And you shouldn’t really be asking us anything.” He chewed his lower lip for a few seconds. “Also, I’m afraid your stallion friend’s little comment to you just now – oh yes, I heard it all right – means we’re really going to have to do this absolutely by the book.” “Oh,” said Fluttershy and dropped her eyes. Rarity muttered under her breath but said nothing aloud. Sandcastle produced three sheets of paper, each apparently identical and covered with tiny print, as well as a board to rest them on. Rarity made to take one of the sheets but was waved away with a snort, leading to a further bout of not-quite-inaudible grumbling. “That’ll be enough of that, if you please, ma’am. I hope you understand that we have a job to do.” He picked up a quill with his teeth and made some notes with what Fancy felt was a well-practised mouth. It wasn’t easy for an Earth pony to write quickly and neatly. Sandcastle turned to Rarity, and removing the quill from his lips asked for her name. “Rarity.” Sandcastle smiled. “That is a nice name, ma’am” he said. Rarity gave him a hostile flash of the eyes but held her tongue. Fancy thought he detected something behind the guard’s comment, though he also said nothing. Sandcastle replaced the quill between his teeth and gestured enquiringly to Fluttershy. “My name is Fluttershy.” “Ah,” said Sandcastle with a slight nod. “Another excellent one. Your parents did you proud. And you, sir?” This question was slightly muffled as the guard had not removed the quill. “Fancy Pants.” Sandcastle raised an eyebrow. “That’s a new name to me. I don’t think I’ve ever met a Fancy Pants before. Is it a historic name, or a family one, perhaps?” “Well, ah, neither, really. My parents were called Cheese Board and Clockwork. They felt that a young pony from an artisan background might well need a bit of help in life, and they so very badly wanted me to rise in the world. I imagine they thought a name like this would help.” Fancy set his face. “Not that it did me much good once they were gone.” “I’m sure your parents did you proud, too.” Sandcastle’s face grew suddenly hard and he jabbed the slightly damp quill at his subject. It seemed the time for pleasantries was over. “Now then: Fancy Pants, what do you know about the activities of the Flying Corps in this Zone?” Fancy gave a start, memories flooding into his mind. “The Flying Corps! I say, that takes me back. Of course, it was a different world in those days, and I was just a colt back in Trott—” “Don’t give me that waffly stuff. This isn’t some half-bit comic book where all the guardsponies are unobservant idiots who don’t notice things like, oh, shall we say, the looks you gave when I first mentioned Equestria.” He nodded and made a brief note, giving the thinnest of smiles. “Yes, we heard all right. Now, are you going to tell us what you know?” Fancy sighed. “How am I supposed to do that when I don’t know what the dickens you want me to say?” Sandcastle rolled his eyes. “What I want to hear from you is quite simple: I want to hear the truth.” He set down the quill. “But if this is how you want to play it… you and your companions will remain here with us tonight. I shall send a message to my superiors and if they decide to allow you to continue your journey, they will send somepony to accompany you tomorrow morning. I would strongly advise you not to cause Shining Mane or myself any further trouble in the meantime. Strongly.” “Is that a threat?” demanded Rarity hotly. “Yes.” Nopony spoke after that as Sandcastle showed them to their room for the night. It was sparsely furnished, but there was ample hay and water, and a few simple cushions were scattered about. The guard closed the door and there was a very definite click as a key turned in the lock. * * * Dawn was already breaking above the hills to the east when the three ponies rose from their fitful slumber. Shining Mane apologised for the lack of coffee (“I don’t think my mother approves of it”) but did at least manage another round of tea and some cinnamon pastries before leaving to take care of some “routine business”. Fluttershy tucked into her breakfast calmly enough, and even Rarity seemed less irritable today. Fancy wondered what she’d been dreaming, but he thought it prudent not to say anything. Instead, he brought up the question that had been playing on his mind constantly. “Where in the name of Tirek are we?” Rarity frowned at Fancy’s coarse language, but said, “We could be absolutely anywhere, darling. The fact that we saw those coruscations mean translocation magic must have been involved, but I’m afraid I can’t tell what type it was.” “We could be somewhere in the West,” put in Fluttershy hesitantly. “The climate and flora seem to be similar, so I think it must be about the same latitude. The birds too, though I haven’t seen any from close up to be sure.” Rarity nodded. “It’s certainly possible. But who knows?” She sighed, suddenly downcast. “Twilight would.” Fluttershy gave her friend a quick squeeze. “I’m sorry – I know how much you miss her,” she said. “Not just Twilight!” insisted Rarity. “Pinkie and Rainbow and everypony else, too!” “I know,” said Fluttershy, a sad smile playing across her lips, “but none of them are your special somepony.” Fancy felt mildly awkward. Rarity and Twilight’s budding relationship was no secret these days, but he still wished he could leave the others to their girl talk. He was saved the problem of whether to say anything when Sandcastle came in and reported that permission had been given for their not-quite-prisoners to be released from the guard post and allowed to go on their way. “Ah, jolly good,” said Fancy Pants. “Top brass gave us the nod, eh?” “Something like that,” said Sandcastle, though he would not elaborate. “In any case,” he continued, “it’s not an unconditional release. Nopony will be going anywhere until your guide gets here. There could be Greenmanes,” he added with a slight but noticeable shudder. “Greenmanes!” said Rarity. “We saw a—” “I’m sure you did,” interrupted Sandcastle. “Who doesn’t, these days? Save your explanations for the city authorities. They’ll certainly expect some.” Softly, Fluttershy asked, “What do you mean by guide? We all thought you were just sending for another guard.” Sandcastle blinked. “What? Why would we do that? If all we needed was to guard you, we could do that right here by ourselves. But we have our orders, it’s a dangerous road—and, ma’am, you are a pegasus.” His use of the honorific after having held the three in – admittedly polite – overnight custody grated a little on Fancy’s ears, but he held his tongue and let Fluttershy reply for herself. “Why is that important?” Shining Mane cut in. “Simple enough. Your companions are both unicorns. From our observations, they are not sufficiently powerful mages to overcome a little restraining enchantment. However, should you get out of range, there would not be a lot I could do – or Sandcastle, come to that – to bring you back. You could go anywhere, and that is not something the Forces are prepared to risk.” Rarity, roused again, snapped, “You threw her far enough yesterday!” “I had the benefit of surprise. If Fluttershy here had the same—well, you see my point, I’m sure.” He gestured to her and Fancy Pants. “All right, you two: clothes off, please.” “I beg your pardon?” said Fancy, considerably taken aback. “Clothes off. Our orders are to search them thoroughly, and we’d prefer to do that while you’re not wearing them. Things can get a little awkward otherwise.” “Awkward!” scoffed Rarity. “Awkward!?” Shining Mane shrugged. “Not you, of course. We’ll provide you with a travelling cloak.” He looked at Sandcastle, who nodded slightly. “We’d better give you one too, Fluttershy. That dress of yours is most unsuitable for the journey ahead.” Rarity bristled, but Sandcastle held up a forehoof. “It’s a very fine dress, ma’am, but it’s unsuitable for hard travelling. It’s three days from here to the city. Once we’ve searched it, you can have it back, but it’ll have to go in your saddlebags. We’ll provide those, too,” he added with a slight air of weariness as Rarity opened her mouth. “And as for me?” asked Fancy. Sandcastle looked him up and down. “You’ll be all right as you are, I think, sir. Stallions’ suits are a little more practical than the ladies’ equivalent. We’ll still need to search your jacket, though.” There was nothing more to say, with Rarity’s protestations about the impropriety of it all eliciting only increasingly irritable glares from the guards. Fluttershy’s dress was quickly searched and returned, but it took considerably longer before Fancy’s jacket had been inspected to the guards’ satisfaction. They were respectful of a photo of Fleur once Fancy had explained, but a small silver case in an inside pocket drew more searching questions. “Ah yes, my travel backgammon set,” said Fancy Pants. “A gift from Silver Cloud. My butler,” he added to more raised eyebrows. “Do you play? It’s a rather jolly game.” They didn’t. At length, Fancy was allowed to dress while the mares were given their brown woollen cloaks. Fluttershy donned hers without complaint; Rarity grudgingly accepted that they were well made, “though dreadfully unflattering”. The three ponies were then issued with saddlebags, all of them plain grey with the letters “EF” in dark blue capitals; this apparently stood for nothing more exciting than “Equestrian Forces”. There was a knock at the door. Shining Mane went to answer and exchanged salutes with the pegasus junior officer standing outside. The newcomer was probably a mare, though Fancy could see only part of one foreleg behind the bulk of the guard’s body. In the thin early morning light, he couldn’t quite be certain of the pony’s colouring, but she seemed to have a coat of a plain light colour, perhaps green or grey. Shining Mane turned his head back to address Fancy and his companions. “This is Flight Sergeant Rainbow Dash. She will accompany you to Canterlot.”
3. Colours and Collars“All right, everypony, what’s all the staring in aid of?” Flight Sergeant Rainbow Dash set her head on one side and ran a grey-green hoof through her close-cropped black mane. Fancy noticed the soft shimmer of an enchanted collar around her neck and wondered what its purpose might be. “I, er, that is to say—” he started, but Fluttershy gently cut across him. “Oh, we don’t mean to be rude,” she said. “It’s just that we have a friend named Rainbow Dash. We were simply a little surprised to meet another pony with that name.” Rainbow rolled her eyes; they were, distractingly, exactly the same shade of cerise as the Ponyville Rainbow Dash’s. “Why? Ponies are allowed to share names, you know.” Fancy recovered himself. “But, well, your mane… it isn’t exactly, ah...” He trailed off and gave a small, apologetic shake of a forehoof. The guide sighed. “Rainbow? My goodness me, how observant. I can see I’ll have to get up early in the morning to match you.” The heavy sarcasm in her voice softened only slightly as she gestured towards the open door. “Which is handy. Mind you, this is something we will all need to get used to.” She turned to Sandcastle. “Permission to brief the strangers, sir?” Sandcastle nodded briskly. “Carry on, Flight Sergeant.” Rainbow turned to address the others. “Now then,” she said. “Listen to what I have to say. I don’t want to waste time repeating myself.” Her manner was direct, almost curt and there was scarcely a trace of a regional accent. She sounded nothing like the Rainbow Dash Fancy knew. “We’re listening,” said Fluttershy. “Good. Now shut up. This is important. The road to Canterlot can be a dangerous one, and we need to take that seriously. That means everypony. I do not intend to end up dead because my charges didn’t pay attention. “If you’re expecting the level of comfort you enjoyed last night,” she went on, nodding towards the guard hut’s side room, “then you can forget about that right now. We will be sleeping in the open, and we will most definitely not be having any cosy lie-ins. We will be leaving immediately. Any questions? Yes?” she added as Rarity raised a hoof. “Do we have to call you Rainbow Dash?” she asked. “It does feel a little odd. Perhaps we could call you Sarge or something?” “You can call me Flight Sergeant,” barked the guide. “Flight will do if you really must, but I worked damn hard to get promoted from sergeant, and I do not expect to be addressed as one again. Is that clear?” She turned to Shining Mane. “I should like to pass out the collars to the strangers, sir.” “Very good, Flight Sergeant. Take them yourself.” “Sir.” Flight rummaged in a large chest by the back wall and produced three collars. They were of a tarnished silver metal and much too thin to be used in hauling. Each was studded with tiny blue gems. Fancy Pants smelt the faint tinny aura of magic around the collars, and glancing to the side he saw that Rarity’s ears had also pricked up. Flight turned to the three. “Get these on.” Fluttershy took her collar with a quizzical expressions but began to slide it over her ears. Fancy accepted his in silence and, after a moment, he followed suit. There was no obvious way out other than by going with Flight, and it was clear that they were going nowhere until the collars were on. They would just have to take the chance— Rarity exploded. “If you think I’m putting that grubby trinket around my neck, you have another think coming! It’s utterly revolting!” She subsided a little. “Do be a dear, Flight Sergeant,” she wheedled. “Surely you could find me something a teensy bit cleaner?” “Would you prefer it if I shoved it onto you myself?” Flight’s voice rose a little. “Because that’s what will happen if you don’t get it around your lily-white neck right this minute.” “So then,” said Rarity acidly as she complied, “it seems we are prisoners after all. Or are you going to tell us some other reason for the fact that we are being forced to don multigem collars?” When Flight looked surprised, Rarity added, “Am I to take it, then, that you have somehow not noticed my cutie mark?” Flight walked over to her and fixed her with a glare. “Tell me,” she said, “if you were me and I were you, what would you do? Yes they are multigem collars, yes I do know which enchantments they hold, no I’m not telling you – and no, they are not coming off until we get to Canterlot. Those are my orders, and I did not make Flight Sergeant by making things up as I went along. You don’t seem like a total idiot to me, so why are you trying to persuade me otherwise?” “I say,” said Fancy Pants. “That’s a bit off, don’t you think?” Flight’s head whipped around. Her glare had increased in intensity and Fancy could almost feel it burning the back of his head. He said nothing further but removed his monocle to wipe it, simply for the sake of filling the yawning silence that had opened up. “In case you lot hadn’t noticed,” said Flight eventually, “there is one of me. I may have excellent stamina, but staying awake for 72 hours is a little beyond even me. I don’t know whether you’d be thick enough to go traipsing off into country you know nothing about in the middle of the night, but I am not prepared to take that risk, and neither is the Protector.” “The Protector?” asked Rarity. “Oh my stars, clearly you are that thick. How lovely for us all. You’ll see the Protector soon enough when we get to Canterlot, and you would do well to learn some common sense before we get there.” “I’m sorry,” said Fluttershy, “but Rarity asked you a reasonable question. I really don’t think you’re behaving very well.” “Boo hoo,” cut in Sandcastle. “This isn’t kindergarten. I did ask you yesterday whether you wanted a complaint form. It’s a bit late for that now. Besides,” he added with a twisted smile, “there is an alternative to the collars, actually. It’s called being tethered to trees like animals each night. If you’d prefer that, just say the word. I’m sure it could be arranged.” Flight gave an appreciative chuckle and retreated a few paces, allowing her to address the three apparently-now-prisoners. When she spoke again, her tone was blunt. “Do you know how to kill?” Fancy floundered and flannelled, but a quiet voice to his left said, “Yes.” He looked around, startled, to see tears welling in Fluttershy’s eyes as she stared fixedly at her hooves. He opened his mouth to speak, stopping short when he caught the tiniest of head-shakes from Rarity beyond her. “Good,” said Flight. “Rarity?” “I can fight,” she said. “That’s not what I asked.” Rarity took a breath and answered, “I have never yet taken a pony’s life and I would never wish to do so.But—” her mind’s eye looked back through the years and images of manticores and dragons danced in her head “—if I had to do so to save my friends… yes, I believe I could.” Flight pursed her lips. “You won’t have time to think about it when a Greenmane has a foreleg across your throat. You will kill her right there and then – or you will die. ‘I believe’ is no bloody good – do you think your assailant will stop and wait for you to make your mind up? No. She will kill you. She’s done it before and she will do it again. Why do you think she’s still alive?” Before Rarity could answer, Flight turned to Fancy. Her expression screamed “Can you do anything useful?”, but all she said aloud was, “You may have to find out.” * * * There was, at least, no need to carry provisions. Browsing was hardly the most enjoyable way to fill one’s stomach, but the low wooded hills through which the ponies were travelling were lushly carpeted with soft, springy grass. The occasional clump of small flowers or bush bearing edible berries leavened the monotony a little, but for the most part it was a diet of grass, grass and more grass. Flight seemed intimately familiar with the area they were passing through and guided them to bubbling springs and rushing streams where they could quench their thirst. They went at an even pace but by no means a slow one, and by late afternoon Fancy’s muscles were beginning to ache, despite the welcome lightness of his saddlebags. He thought back to high school treks with the cadets in Trottingham and smiled ruefully, wishing he’d taken those weekends a little more seriously. Looking about him, he saw that Fluttershy had taken to the air and was gliding a couple of feet off the ground, perhaps to give her legs a rest. Rarity, who had said little all morning, was trotting alongside her and exchanging what seemed to be pleasantries; Fancy couldn’t quite make out the words. Perhaps they were simply discussing the best ways to make tea. Flight was currently high in the sky, scouting ahead for any trouble. She barely looked down at the others – the multigem collars around their necks precluded any worry that they would dash off into some untamed wood. Flight’s explanation had been terse, but Fancy had gathered that the intricate lattice of the various gems’ magical enchantments would hold the prisoners – he allowed himself the use of the word now – within range of their so-called guide. The collars’ magic was great; Rarity had admitted that even her deep knowledge of the properties of gems would not help them here. While Flight had been on a previous reconnaissance, Rarity had whispered that she knew of an unlocking spell from a book in the depths of Twilight’s library archives, but that it was a difficult one that was awkward and even dangerous to cast. A mage with the ability of Twilight – or perhaps Starlight – might have been able to untangle the latticework with enough time and concentration, but she had not that power. “And where would we go to?” Fluttershy had asked. There was no answer to that: they knew nothing of this strange Equestria beyond the little they had seen since the previous afternoon. And then there’s me, thought Fancy with a sort of amused resignation. The other one. He was under increasingly little illusion about the fact that he was comprehensively outdone by all three mares in the adventuring department. It was easy to forget that in her time meek and gentle Fluttershy had faced down a dragon and a cockatrice and reduced a Storm Guard to tears, unarmed and alone. Fancy wondered why Flight, who had never known her, had seemed so unsurprised about her straightforward reply back at the guard post. Flight’s yell of “Trouble!” interrupted Fancy’s thoughts. She was heading back towards the others at full pelt and, some moments later, landed inelegantly a few yards away. “I say, what’s going on?” asked Fancy. Flight seemed in no mood to explain. “Trouble,” she repeated. “Come on! Into the trees!” She hustled them all off the road and into a clumpy, dense copse fifty feet away with such efficiency and speed that they were out of sight in seconds. “Well, Flight Sergeant,” hissed Rarity, “now are you going to tell us the reason for this uncouth behaviour?” “If you want,” muttered Flight. “There’s a whole bloody herd of Greenmanes coming this way.” “Is that bad?” asked Fluttershy. “Oh, not really,” said Flight. “Not if you like being robbed at knifepoint and left as a snack for any passing wolves. If you’re a fan of that kind of thing, then no, it’s not bad at all. You’ll love the Greenmanes, I’m sure. Maybe you can go ask them round for a cup of tea.” “Robbed!” exclaimed Fancy. “But we barely have a bit between us! Everything at the party was laid on.” “I see,” said Flight. “And what do you think will happen when they find that out? You think they’re going to leave us a scolding note saying ‘Don’t do it again, you naughty ponies’ or spare us a bit for a mug of cider? No. They’re going to get angry. Especially when they see that.” Flight nodded at the EM on Fancy's saddlebags. “And when a Greenmane gets angry you do not want to get in her way unless you are damn sure you can kill her right there and then.Otherwise? It will very likely be the last thing you ever do.” Rarity spoke up. “Perhaps you could tell us something about these Greenmanes? We thought we saw a pony with a green mane yesterday, before we met the guards. Everypony has been terribly mysterious about them.” “Shut your stupid trap.” This was spoken quietly and slowly, yet with an intensity that shocked Fancy Pants and forced Rarity into silence. Fancy considered protesting but pulled back as he heard the hoofsteps in the distance. The wind was against him, but listening hard he was fairly sure there were wheels on the road as well, a thought that was only confirmed as they drew nearer. Before long, he could make out the ponies approaching. He was not prepared for the sight. There were in fact only four in the group, all with manes of a rich, dark green. To Fancy’s style-conscious eyes, the colouring did not look natural: it was simply too regular. Two unicorn mares flanked a pair of Earth pony stallions, who were hauling a light cart which held nothing but a large rectangular item swathed in layers of soft black cloth. As they passed the hiding place, its corner slipped slightly. It was a mirror. Rarity let out a gasp that she stifled almost at once. Fancy’s heart hammered like a carpenter on double time, but the Greenmanes didn’t appear to have noticed the sound and continued their movement. He willed himself to stay utterly still, despite the burning ache that was beginning to fill his muscles, and thought about what he had seen. If he was right about the reason for Rarity’s reaction… Once the sound had died away, Fancy, Rarity and Fluttershy turned as one to look expectantly at Flight. After a short eternity, she nodded. “Well,” she said when they were all on the road once more, “this is not good. This is not good at all. Looks like we won’t be going to Canterlot just yet. Let’s just hope we get there at all. First, we’re going back west. Fast. Right now. And you, Fluttershy, will be flying with me. You other two, follow us at full gallop. Nothing less will do. You'll have to carry our saddlebags as well as yours; there's nothing else for it.” “But what about the collars?” asked Fluttershy. Flight gave a humourless smile and patted her own collar with a tenderness that was almost affectionate. Fancy got the distinct impression that she’d worn it many times before. “You keep those on. Believe me, the Wing Commander allowed for things like this when she hoofed these out. They won’t be a problem so long as the unicorns are following me directly. But know this: if they set just one hoof off the road, I will know about it and they will regret it.” He looked slowly from Rarity to Fancy Pants, meeting each pony’s gaze, before turning back to Fluttershy. “Now: what did I ask you back at the guard post? Fluttershy shuddered and screwed up her eyes. “Whether we knew how to kill.” “That’s right,” said Flight, her eyes hard as flint. “And you, Fluttershy, were the only one who told me straight away that you did.” Fluttershy’s eyes were still closed and her face tense, but eventually she forced out a tiny, “Yes.” Flight looked at her for long moments then turned away, her expression grim. “I hope you meant it.”
4. The Wild TimeFancy Pants ran on. He was trying not to think about how much his body ached all over, with the promise of far more brutal punishment to come. He ventured a glance to the side and saw that Rarity was also finding things tough. Neither of them was a natural runner, though undoubtedly Rarity’s muscles and reflexes had been honed by her years of adventure with the other Bearers. Fluttershy was gliding by her side, encouraging her as best she could. Fancy considered once again the minimal instructions Flight had given them before they set off. They must stop the Greenmanes at all costs from reaching the guard post, where despite Sandcastle’s Earth pony strength he and Shining Mane would surely not be able to hold off four attackers for long. Fancy ruminated on “at all costs” – an easy phrase with a very hard reality. He wondered, too, why he was on the verge of a skirmish in a conflict he knew almost nothing about. In formal attire, at that; he couldn’t suppress a little chuckle at the thought. Fancy, Rarity and Fluttershy had by this time adopted the name “Strangers” as their own. It did at least lessen the confusion a little, given that Flight considered herself an Equestrian just as much as the others did. Fancy had so many questions for the gruff pegasus, but that would have to wait until— “Up!” gasped Rarity, and Fancy raised his head to see that Flight and Fluttershy had come almost to a halt, so high in the sky that he had to squint to make them out as anything more than specks. Undoubtedly their quarries would have heard the unicorns’ hoofbeats by now, but as long as they had not spotted the two pegasi the Greenmanes would not know for sure how large the pursuing group was – thus ceding a crucial element of surprise. Even if they had been seen, only the greatest archers or most potent spell-casters would be able to reach an enemy who stayed that far aloft. Unfortunately, that would mean two against four, and neither Fancy nor Rarity had sufficient power to overcome even average unicorns when their strength was augmented by a couple of Earth ponies. The only way, therefore, was for the pegasi to harry the Greenmanes from above, relying on their speed and dexterity in the air and distracting them while the unicorns made short, sharp attacks. Fancy bit his lip. The other three had seen combat before, but he had not, at least beyond the mock battles of his cadet years. Once again he wondered what he was doing out here – and whether he would ever see Fleur again. “Go!” screamed Flight from somewhere above. Fancy looked up just in time to see the Greenmane unicorns’ horns aglow. A moment later, he realised there was a yellow blur barrelling down towards the green-haired quartet. Then one of the Earth ponies looked up too—at the very moment that Fluttershy’s hooves made contact with the side of his neck. Fancy didn’t hear the impact, but he saw the Greenmane crumple immediately to the ground. He redirected his gaze to the front as he closed on the others. The time for wondering was over. * * * A stillness descended, punctuated only by the heavy breathing of four ponies. The other four, sprawled in the dirt, made no sound at all. “Right,” said Flight, “Three out cold and one… going cold. I’d have liked to have taken them all alive, but we can’t be too fussy.” He turned to Fluttershy. “So, I have to admit I’m impressed,” he said. “You really can kill.” “Oh goodness, that pony isn’t dead,” said Fluttershy, eyes wide. “I could never do a thing like that. He’s just unconscious, like the others.” Flight stopped in her tracks. “What?” Fluttershy smiled wanly. “He’s in a deeper sleep than the other three – I did manage to make sure of that – but he’ll wake up again eventually, when his wounds are a little easier for him to bear.” “What?” said Flight again, in that even tone which so often hides a world of disbelief. “But you told me you could kill!” “I know,” said Fluttershy. “But you didn’t ask me what you meant by that. I mean—” here her voice wavered and her ears drooped “—I’ve helped critters who had nowhere else to go. Sometimes it’s kinder to help them find their way to the Great Beyond. Many times,” she added in a whisper. “But never, never a pony.” “So what did…?” Flight trailed off, exasperated. Fluttershy scuffed a hoof. “I’m not a doctor, but I know a lot about pony anatomy. It’s not that different from… from some animals.” Fancy looked away. As he swung his head around, he caught sight of Rarity, holding herself unnaturally still and tense. Her eyes spoke of secrets never to be told between her and Fluttershy, and Fancy felt deeply uncomfortable for having seen even the briefest glimpse. He shook his head hard in a fruitless attempt to forget the sight, then realised that Flight had been talking to him. He looked up into her questioning face. “Er, I do apologise,” he said. “In a world of my own there, eh?” Flight quirked aneyebrow impatiently. “Um,” continued Fancy, “I’m afraid I didn’t catch what you said. Awfully sorry and all that, but could you perhaps repeat it?” “I suppose I should be grateful for small mercies,” said Flight. “If you’d done that a few minutes ago we’d probably all be dead.” She emphasised the final word as if to underscore her point, though Fancy needed no telling exactly how fortunate they had been. “Anyway,” she went on, “what I said was: help me get these ponies trussed up and onto the cart. I could do it myself, but a horn works faster than wings.” “All right. But what then?” “Then we take them off to Sandy and Shiny.” Fancy couldn’t suppress a giggle. “Something funny?” Flight’s tone suggested there had better not be. Fancy waved a hoof. “No, no. Do carry on.” “And on the way, I’ll fill you all in.” “Fill us in on what?” “On the Greenmanes! Stars above, could you and the mares maybe think about letting me know when you’re going to go into Idiot Mode again?” Rarity stomped across and shoved her muzzle in Flight’s face, saying, “I really have had enough of this. We’ve been held prisoner, fitted with these infernal multigem collars and made to fight. I don’t mind a bit of danger now and again, but I would like to know what this is all about without this quite unnecessary impoliteness.” Fluttershy backed her up. “Rarity is right. You may be our guard but there is no reason to be rude.” Flight smiled slightly at Fluttershy’s tone, but backed off at a glance from Rarity. Fancy shifted awkwardly, a corner of his backgammon case pressing uncomfortably against his hide through the lining of his jacket. “All right.” Flight motioned for the others to sit down. “Looks like we’re going to have ourselves a nice campfire story. No s’mores, I’m afraid. Tonight’s special is scorched dandelion. On the house.” “Oh, do get on with it,” grumbled Rarity. “Well,” said Flight, “you know some of it already. You are in a Restricted Zone, I am taking you to Canterlot to see the Protector, you are going to have to have a bloody good explanation. That fight with the Greenmanes will help, but it won’t be enough.” “But who are the Greenmanes?” pressed Fancy. “I do rather object to fighting when I don’t know why I’m doing it.” “So why did you?” “I, ah, well… dash it all.” “I do my best,” said Flight Sergeant Rainbow Dash, with the faintest of smiles. “Ah, my apologies. Well, it’s a rum thing, but—look here, you’re still not answering my actual question.” Flight said, “Okay, you want the plain truth? Here it is. The Greenmanes have been around for years, before my time even. Until recently, the Protector considered them harmless lunatics and left them alone. When they started burning carts—not so much. They want a green Equestria.” “What do you mean, a green Equestria?” asked Fluttershy. “They want us all to go back to the Wild Time.” “What was the Wild Time?” asked Fluttershy. “I thought so,” said Flight. When Fluttershy furrowed her brow, Flight continued, “I’ve never done magic, but I know a lot about mirror anatomy. I know you don’t belong here. So will the Protector, but that’s for another day.” Flight settled into a more relaxed position. “The Wild Time was exactly what it sounds like. There were no cities, no towns, no guards, not even any real roads. Ponies lived in small herds, browsing on what food they could find. Some even hunted or fished. I’ve been fishing myself, as it happens.” “But you’re a pony!” cried Rarity, screwing up her face in distaste. “Well spotted. There’s no reason ponies can’t eat meat. I’m sure Fluttershy will tell you that, if you don’t know it yourself.” Fluttershy blanched, but gave a tiny noise of agreement. “If you were adrift in an ocean boat with a spear, surrounded by fish and seabirds, you’d eat it too. Or would you prefer to starve in a bulging larder?” “But—” Rarity began again. “I overheard you talking about your cat. Where do you think her food comes from? From what I’ve heard of her, she sure as hay doesn’t catch it all herself. “In any case,” Flight went on as Rarity opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, “that is what the Wild Timers did. For centuries. Until, so the tale goes, one wandering tribe met another near what is now Canterlot. They listened to each other’s legends and realised that not only did the land they had spoken of for so long truly exist, but that they were standing in it. They took it as a sign and began to build. It took many years, but at last a city stood on the spot. “To most ponies, that was the end of darkness. But to a few, it was simply the end. They said that ponies were natural creatures, of the earth and the clouds and the auras. Cities were unnatural and cursed. They began to colour their manes green as a symbol of their wish for Equestrians to become browsers again. Everything that went wrong in the new Canterlot was a judgement from the Moon Empress.” Flight waited for Rarity’s coughing fit to subside. “As I told you before, for a long time the Greenmanes were no more than a fringe group of lunatics. But then the choking clouds came. To this day, nopony knows where from—but the Greenmanes knew. So they said, though I have my doubts. It was the Judgement of Judgements, and Canterlot must fall. Their numbers began to grow, very slowly at first. But eventually, the Protector of the day ordered their banishment from the city. She was prepared for a fight, but there was none. They left almost joyfully. “After a year, the attacks began. The Protector acted swiftly and declared the Restricted Zone, with the Flying Corps reformed to defend it, and so it has been ever since.” * * * It was almost dark by the time they reached the guard post. There had been no further alarms, but Fancy was concerned to see that Rarity was clearly favouring her left hind leg. She’d waved off Fluttershy when she had attempted to take a closer look, telling her to look after herself first, and Flight had pronounced it “nothing to worry about” – but pegasi could take their weight off their hooves when they needed to. Excepting the very few unicorns capable of self-levitation, their tribe could not, and without the iron constitution of most Earth ponies they were uniquely vulnerable to leg injuries. They were also going to be late getting to Canterlot. Flight didn’t seem especially concerned by this, but Sandcastle seemed to be fretting slightly. Shining Mane too, though he had at least remembered to handle sending a message to the capital. Fancy wondered how, given the lack of trains and dragons in the vicinity. Perhaps the large unicorn could teleport, though that was hardly a common ability. He was too tired to ask. On the plus side, their accommodation was nicer this time, with the Greenmanes locked in the side room, and their aching bodies welcomed sleep. Before that, there was yet more tea. Flight and the Strangers set off at dawn once more. It was good to be trotting again, rather than galloping in desperate pursuit, and Rarity in particular clearly appreciated the easier pace. Flight decided that they should camp at the spot where they had first met the Greenmanes, as the road beyond that point was unfamiliar to the Strangers. They arrived in early evening and so could allow themselves to take things slowly when building their fire. Scratching his head as the four of them sat around the crackling pile, Fancy said, “Well, it is rather nice to have a fire. But isn’t it going to attract attention? You must be able to see it from an awfully long way off!” “It might,” said Flight. “It might. And if it attracts the wrong sort of attention, we’ll have to be ready.” He looked from weary face to weary face. “Yes. It is hard out here. But that’s why we have a Restricted Zone in the first place.” Fancy looked down at his jacket and picked irritably at a tear in the lapel, where a button had been ripped off during the fighting. He patted it down a bit and winced as a hard edge pressed against a bruise on his chest. Then he brightened. “Well,” Fancy said, pulling out the silver box. “Shall we do something a little more, ah, relaxing?” Fluttershy proved to be a demon backgammon player.
