The Ambassador

"Small pony, wake up!"

Savanna, having received an impatient shove, jolted upright. Her head was spinning. Woozily, she made eye contact with a changeling standing over her bed and gazing down at her. "What's happening...?"

"Chorilax is hosting the lottery soon. Everyone needs to be awake and at attention." The anonymous changeling raised his voice, walking down the line of sleeping ponies and continuing to rouse them from their slumber.

Savanna stood up, blinking rapidly to clear her vision. There were ponies and changelings alike crowded around the bedroom, chatting noisily amongst themselves. When Savanna spotted Jovial being awoken from her slumber in a spare bed on the other side of the room, a pang of sympathy struck her. The poor mare had probably only gotten a few collective hours of sleep.

Tired, Savanna slowly began to pack up her things. She retrieved her rain poncho from where she had left it after taking it off prior to sleeping, balling the jacket up. She was moving in a sluggish manner. The slumber she had just woken from was the longest in a while, but it wasn't enough to compensate for all the hardships she had faced in the last few days. She needed sleep and relaxation to recover—a luxury that was, unquestionably, a rarity in these arduous times.

Jovial and Amethyst had faced far worse than herself, Savanna realized, yet they still managed to smile. It was inspiring, if a bit baffling. Even with the absence of harmony, ponies could still make peace with their realities. They weren't happy, yet they found peace through accepting their positions in the world and not believing there existed a better situation they could pursue. It was a miserable position to be stuck in.

Regardless, compared to these other brave ponies Savanna was meeting, she felt like a selfish foal for even thinking of losing hope.

Savanna was about to leave the room, but hesitated. Ahead of her were changelings moving together in a group. Their black, shiny exoskeletons were intimidating. The language they used while talking amongst themselves was crude and casual compared to how eloquently Chorilax spoke.

Savanna decided not to keep her distance. She tagged along behind them. A few gave her some odd looks, but otherwise didn't comment.

"Ponies, changelings! Everyone, gather. You all will each be given a slip of paper..." Chorilax spoke. Savanna heard his voice grow louder as she entered the main living area of the basement. Everyone stood in a crescent shape around Chorilax as he gave orders. Savanna assumed her position in the formation beside a few changelings, glancing over. One nodded silently, greeting her, before turning his attention toward Chorilax.

Savanna noticed every pony in the room kept their distance from the changelings—except her. She also noticed all of the changelings were male. Was it just a coincidence, or were all changelings male apart from their queen? Savanna knew very little about changeling society. Chorilax had been right when he was lecturing her earlier about her lack of respect for changeling life philosophies—it was unacceptable for her to judge because she was completely ignorant.

"...and I want you all to write your names on it. When you're finished, deposit your papers and writing implements..." Chorilax paused, levitating a metal bucket from behind himself. He placed it onto a chair facing out toward the crowd. The bucket's metal handle clattered noisily against its metal frame. "...into this bucket."

Avoiding using her magic to save her strength, Jovial passed out the slips of paper manually. Chorilax helped too. He levitated Savanna a slip of paper and a pencil, which she accepted. She waited for him and Jovial to return to the center of the room before she scribbled her name onto the paper. Skillfully, she planted her hooves, balled the paper up and tossed it into the bucket from where she was standing. She threw the pencil as well. Seeing a few other ponies and changelings copy her, she smiled.

"A large military force is coming to Queensland to parade through Main Street in just a few hours today. Valor himself will be attending as an observer. After you all are finished here, Jovi will help evacuate everyone from the city. I..." Chorilax swept his gaze across the room and the crowd of ponies and changelings, "...and one of you will be staying behind. We're going to assassinate Valor together."

That got everyone's attention. Hushed whispers rippled across the crowd. Savanna's eyes widened. Realizing what she had just inadvertently signed up for, she considered speaking up and vocally renouncing her stake in the lottery.

"Before the rest of the military or the CED even realize what has happened, Maverick and I will march an army east to Verena. We'll retake the city and the royal palace and reinstate Queen Melody.

"In the event that I and my partner fail to escape the city after the assassination, Jovi is already familiar with this entire plan. As a contingency, she can relay this information to Maverick personally when everyone arrives at Juniper."

Chorilax slowed the pace of his speech, placing extra emphasis on each word. "Does everyone understand the plan?"

Receiving nods of confirmation, Chorilax continued. "Okay. I see that everyone has submitted their papers." He used levitation magic to temporarily seal the mouth of the bucket, giving it a vigorous shake to mix the papers around. Then, with a hoof, he reached into the bucket and withdrew one slip of paper.

"Silence!" Chorilax ordered. Hearing the hushed whispers of conversation stifled, he unfurled the balled paper and read aloud the name printed on it.

"Dry Savanna."

Hearing her name being read aloud, Savanna gulped. Fear immediately struck her—she had just inadvertently signed up for a dangerous job. Worst of all, there were countless ponies in the room who would do a better job than her. Why had fate decided to choose her?

"W - wait, Chorilax, ah—"

"Savanna," Chorilax spoke forcefully, silencing her. "You willingly signed up for this. You can't lose your nerves now."

Anxious, Savanna quivered, shifting her weight. "Ah know," she eventually responded.

"Good. Stay behind with me when everyone starts to leave." Chorilax turned his attention away from her and focused it toward Jovial. "Jovi..."

The unicorn mare spoke first. "Be safe, please," she requested, frowning with concern.

"I will," he asserted. "Lead everyone to safety. Savanna and I will only be an hour or two behind you."

They engaged in a long, pensive session of eye contact. Jovial lifted a hoof off of the ground, looking like she wanted to say or do something, but hesitated, placing her hoof against the ground again. Silently, she nodded, then turned and began organizing the cohort of ponies and changelings into small groups who would be evacuated separately.

"Savanna." Chorilax beckoned Savanna with a wave of his hoof. Obediently, Savanna stepped forward before the changeling.

"Do you have a gun?"

"Ah do, but... ah don't want to hurt anypony that ah don't have to."

"Neither do I," Chorilax admitted, "but, this is bigger than you or me, Savanna. We changelings know deeply of sacrifice." Chorilax paused. He held a hoof against his chest, frowning and looking very solemn. "The queen, the future of changelingkind—it all depends on my plan, I wager. The end justifies the means, that much is clear."

"Are you sure he has to die...? There's nothing else that can be done?" Receiving telling silence in response to her question, Savanna frowned. Frustrated and unsatisfied, she turned away from Chorilax and watched Jovial escort a group of ponies up the basement stairs and outside. Most were dressed in coats or jackets, carrying bags and satchels full of supplies. It was probably cold outside. Hopefully they would be okay hefting all of the supplies for such a long journey.

"How did ah get wrapped up in this whole mess?" Savanna wondered aloud. Anxious, she tapped a hoof against the floor. She was about to witness a pony be killed. It just didn't sit with her right, no matter how Chorilax tried to convince her to feel otherwise. There would be no excuse she could accept.

"I will be taking the shot, Savanna. Your job is to watch around us for any signs of trouble. I predict we'll have the opportunity to leave before anyone has time to properly react to the shooting."

"Ah don't wanna go."

"No one does. I don't want to, either." Receiving no response from Savanna, Chorilax turned away and began getting dressed. He transformed into his regular pony disguise first, then strapped on a saddlebag as well as two belts around his waist. He levitated a rifle that had been leaning against the wall and slipped it between the belts and his side so it rested securely. Finally, to obscure the weapon he was smuggling, he slung a long, brown coat over himself. He drew it shut, buttoning all of the buttons.

"There are stairs outside we can use to access the upper floors of this building."

Savanna nodded, donning her rain poncho and slinging her satchel over her back. "Ah'm ready when you are."

They were the last pair to leave. Savanna took one last look around the empty basement, shocked at how efficiently everyone had cleaned everything up. All of the guns, supplies and personal belongings had been packed up and hauled out. There were obvious signs of the place having been lived in for a while, but that hardly mattered now that everyone had successfully evacuated.

Outside in the alleyway, Savanna shivered in the cold fall air. Her thin rain poncho did absolutely nothing to insulate her from the freezing air. "Celestia, it's cold today," she swore, complaining.

"How do you think I feel?" Cloverleaf demanded, shivering. "We changelings are cold-blooded."

"Right... Sorry," Savanna apologized, sympathizing.

Cloverleaf led the way through the alley to a metal spiral staircase. It led upwards from the ground to a small metal platform, one of many that dotted the outside of each floor of the building, connected with more spiral staircases. They were installed to relieve ponies escaping from a fire or other disaster. Conveniently, the stairs could also be used to access the upper floors, as Cloverleaf had already mentioned.

Despite the fact that Cloverleaf walked at a casual pace up the stairs, Savanna was hesitant to imitate him. She was keenly aware of how loud her hoofsteps were against the solid metal stairs.

"Aren't ponies going to see or hear us?"

"Probably. It doesn't matter, though. They won't follow us, and we'll be long gone before anyone remembers it was us who came up here."

Savanna shrugged, unsure how to oppose his logic. She kept climbing.

Cloverleaf stopped on the seventh floor. Deftly, he slipped through an open window, looking around for inhabitants. As anticipated, the floor of the building was completely deserted. It was still under construction. There were tools and equipment strewn about that hinted the project hadn't yet concluded. There was no furniture, and the room was very bare and desolate.

Savanna slipped through the window, following Cloverleaf. She quickly glanced around the empty room before focusing her attention on her companion. "We're a little high up, aren't we?"

Cloverleaf slipped his saddlebag off and leaned it against the wall. He unbuttoned his coat and took it off, levitating the rifle that had been secured against his side. Rotating the weapon's safety into the off position, he gripped the bolt's handle with his magic, pulled the bolt back completely and ejected one of the rounds to confirm the weapon was loaded. He retrieved the live round from the floor and manually chambered it, closing the bolt.

"No. We're safer if we're this high up. Also, I can see farther this way."

Savanna stood onto her hind legs and opened one of the windows, peeking outside. Below, on the streets, there were twice as many CED guards stationed than the day prior. It was a little frightening to see everypony lined up on the sidewalks after Savanna had witnessed the city once bustling with activity, ponies walking in every direction, resting on benches or leaning against poles or walls. It was like they were all in a trance.

"The CED are policing the streets to reserve space for the military to march through during the parade. Speaking of—I suspect it won't begin for at least another half hour." Cloverleaf set his weapon down onto the floor safely and sat down, resting back against the wall.

Tired, Savanna was about to copy her companion and take a seat, but hesitated, seeing a few military trucks being driven down the road. She considered mentioning it to Cloverleaf, but decided not to. She sat, resting. Her satchel rested on the ground too, its strap loosening. All of the contents within jangled against each other subtly.

There was a moment of silence. Savanna breathed, trying to relax. She thought about the fact that, soon, she would witness a pony be killed. The logic seemed so flawed—she couldn't accept the idea as morally right, even if the end did justify the means.

"Do ya miss home?"

"I... my feelings are complicated. If I told you how I felt, and the truth somehow spread from you, I would be found guilty for trespassing against changeling law and executed for treachery by Queen Silver. Treachery and... lust, among other minor infractions."

"Treachery?" Savanna frowned in response to the unexpected word.

"Since our inception, we changelings have nurtured our intricate laws across countless generations. Changelings prioritize efficiency in everything that we do, as I have told you, and..." Cloverleaf hesitated. Clearly, he was considering withholding whatever he was feeling internally and abandoning his train of thought altogether. "The significance of what I'm trying to explain to you is: we changelings have lived under changeling law for so long that the concept of breaking one of the laws is... incomprehensible."

"And you broke one, huh?"

"Several, actually." Despondent, Cloverleaf hung his head, gazing down at the wooden floor. Absently, he brushed one of his disguised pony hooves along the wood grain. "I can never return to changeling society again. If I continued living and serving the queen without sharing the truth, the guilt would consume me. On the other hand, Queen Silver will have me executed for treachery if I share the truth.

"I don't belong in pony society—that is obvious to me, despite how little I've experienced of it. Suddenly, I'm... realizing I don't belong anywhere. And, I... don't know what to do. I - I think I..." Cloverleaf trailed off. Clearly, he was struggling to translate his thoughts and emotions into words. For once, the tone of his voice was unsteady and irresolute.

Savanna could sense it—in fact, she could visibly see it. The pupils of Cloverleaf's disguised pony eyes were wide, and his eyes darted back-and-forth erratically as if he were desperately seeking an escape from a burning building and was running out of time.

"Chorilax, first, you need to calm down, okay? Ya look like you're sufferin' from paranoia.

"You need to accept Harmony into your heart, Chorilax. I know it'll be difficult for you, but... you'll feel so much better! You'll feel like a weight was lifted from your shoulders, like all of your problems never existed at all!"

Cloverleaf took a deep breath and released a sigh, continuing to avoid eye contact. "All of those years I lived in my hive, trying to find my place in changeling society... the education I received, memorizing changeling law... None of it matters?"

"Of course it does! It helped ya become the pony you are today, Chorilax. Or, uh... the changeling you are today. You're older now. You have a better understanding of the world. You know enough to make your own choices."

Cloverleaf hesitated. Internally, Savanna celebrated his hesitation, understanding that she was planting seeds of doubt in his mind. If not soon, maybe, eventually, Cloverleaf would learn to accept harmony and denounce changeling life principles.

"I guess I'm just... I'm afraid." Cloverleaf looked over, maintaining eye contact with Savanna. His dilated pupils had grew wider again—he looked to be on the verge of crying.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, Chorilax. Harmony will always be there—it's waiting for you, for when you're ready to try. You don't ever have to accept it, but you just have to know that it's there for you if you want to. There will always be ponies in the world who can help you when you need it, you just need to extend a hoof. You need Kindness."

Cloverleaf reached with a hoof, kneading at his eyes. "You're... acting very kindly towards someone you don't know."

"Ah do know you."

Cloverleaf snorted, looking away and shaking his head. "You don't know me."

"Ah know that inside, you're good, it's just... I know you're frustrated and angry. You have no friends to help you, and ya think you're stuck. It's healthy to have relationships with other ponies. They can be there for you like ah am right now."

Cloverleaf quietly pondered this for a few moments. "I... do have one pony in my life in that way, but... it's illegal for changelings to form relationships and devote themselves to anyone other than the queen."

"Buck the rules!" Savanna exclaimed, stamping one of her hooves against the wood floor in emphasis. "Do what makes you happy!"

"Happy..." Cloverleaf repeated listlessly, frowning.

Savanna was about to reply, but she detected the distant sound of music playing and stopped, lifting her head away from the wall. Her ears perked up, swiveling in the direction of the sound.

"Is that... music?"

"The parade is starting," Cloverleaf noted. He stood, gazing out of one of the windows. Savanna, being shorter than him, stood up on her hind legs and raised both her forelegs, balancing them on the windowsill and gazing out and down at the street. In the distance, a mass of ponies were traveling down the street, moving at a steady, energetic pace. Savanna heard the rhythmic, metallic beating of horseshoes against concrete beneath the pounding of drums and blaring of trumpets.

"Buck," Savanna swore, her eyes widening. The soldiers were wearing dark grey winter uniforms, while the superior officers wore black. In general, they were better equipped than the CED and were more intimidating. They stepped forward with one foreleg and rear leg at the same time, marching in perfect synchrony across countless long lines.

"This is insanity..." Savanna drew away from the window, stepping down onto all fours again. There were so many ponies—an incomprehensible amount, an amount that one couldn't even begin to count if they tried.

Cloverleaf took a deep breath, steeling himself. He opened the window, took a step back, levitated the rifle and planted the legs of its bipod onto the windowsill. There, in that position, he waited, sweeping his eyes across the balconies of various buildings in an effort to spot Valor.

Feeling anxious and twitchy, Savanna fiddled with her forehooves. Unconsciously, she tapped one of her rear legs against the floor. "L - look, Chorilax, ah'm feelin' real nervous here... Let's just go. T - this is a terrible idea. There are so many ponies out there..."

Cloverleaf refused to reply or turn around to make eye contact. Savanna understood the message, but she wasn't satisfied with the answer.

She hopped up, balancing her forelegs on the windowsill again and gazing out of the window. She noticed that all of the balconies were unoccupied so far.

"There, on that balcony—the one with the metal railings."

Savanna scanned the buildings with balconies, her eyes eventually coming to a stop. There, exiting from within a building onto the balcony, was Valor himself flanked by two guards. His short, swept-back sapphire mane and vivid blue, spotted coat were immediately-identifiable. His black trench coat was highly adorned with gold buttons and aesthetic gold bands.

She knew who he was. Cloverleaf clearly understood, as well. His body visibly tensed. He looked down the rifle's sights and began lining up a shot, making precise adjustments to the weapon with careful levitation.

Savanna was about to draw away from the window and sit back on her haunches to place both forehooves over her ears, but movement in the corner of her eye made her hesitate. She almost dismissed the movement as a bird or a falling snowflake, but her eyes flicked in the direction automatically. Across the street on the rooftop of a building, she saw an indistinguishable silhouette behind a brick chimney and a bright, shining white star obscuring it. It was a bright glint of light—sunlight was reflecting off of something on the rooftop and obscuring her vision.

Savanna considered mentioning it to Cloverleaf. She turned her head, looking at him and preparing to mention the odd phenomena, when a loud bang made her flinch. Her ears ringing, she had time only to cry out in surprise before Cloverleaf recoiled backwards, dropping the rifle he had been grasping and clutching at one of his shoulders with a hoof.

"Shit! Fuck!" Cloverleaf swore, hitting the wood floor hard as he tripped and lost his balance. Having been violently interrupted, he lost his concentration, and his pony disguise winked out like a dying ember. His rifle, no longer being supported, clattered onto the floor.

"Chorilax!" Concerned, Savanna turned, gazing down at him. She froze, clueless, unsure what to do.

"Get down!"

Doubtlessly, Savanna obeyed his order. Right when she hit the ground, another shot rang out. Savanna heard the bullet whiz by overhead and then pierce one of the windows on the other side of the room, shattering it.

"Chorilax, are you—" Savanna's words stopped before leaving her throat. She knew he was physically alright, but he looked to be in pain.

"I'm fine! Just... fuck! I fucked it up!" Chorilax grunted, pressing at his injured shoulder with a hoof where he had been shot. His hoof and shoulder were covered in a thin layer of green blood. Perturbed, Savanna looked away. She swallowed, trying not to panic. Internally, she could feel her heart beating rapidly.

On the other side of the street from behind the brick chimney, the unicorn sniper set his scoped rifle down and stood up, unsure of whether he had hit both of his targets or not. His horn ignited with an intense purple glow as he prepared to cast a spell.

Savanna heard a loud whizzing sound—far less subtle than the whizzing of a bullet overhead—and saw a purple flash of light shooting through the air and in through the window like a lightning bolt. Savanna couldn't comprehend what the spell was before it was too late. The lightning bolt struck the wall behind her and exploded it in a cloud of dust and flying debris. The shockwave instantly shattered all of the windows in the room and sent her and her companion flying. Savanna hit the wall hard, all of the breath leaving her lungs sharply as it was squeezed from her body. Stunned, she laid on the ground and tried to comprehend what had just happened.

"Chorilax?" Savanna coughed, exhaling all the dust she had just breathed in. Wincing, she pressed a hoof against her side. The small fragments of glass had bounced off of her rubber rain poncho, but a big chunk of glass the length and sharpness of a finely-honed unicorn horn had embedded itself in her side. It had pierced directly through her jacket.

She heard Chorilax groan. Looking over, she spotted him laying on his back several feet away.

"We need to get out of here, now! This place is going to be crawling with soldiers soon!"

Savanna recognized he was right. Terrified by the very prospect, she scooped up her satchel and shot up from the ground.

On the other side of the room, a massive hole had been bored into the wall from the explosive spell. Savanna had no idea how the seventh floor and all the floors above it hadn't yet collapsed. She saw straight through and spotted the wall of the building next to the one she was currently inside.

Her hooves crunching on broken glass, she leapt over a pile of loose bricks and dove out of one of the broken windows, landing onto the metal platform of the fire escape outside. Wincing, she pressed a hoof against her unprotected foreleg where some smaller pieces of glass shrapnel had bitten into her like rose thorns. She thanked fate that none of the fractured glass had acted as caltrops and buried themselves into the vulnerable part of her hooves.

Savanna reached, feeling where the elongated chunk of glass had impaled her. At the moment, there was so much adrenaline in her system that she only felt a dull ache in the area of the wound. She considered quickly yanking it out, but hesitated, realizing that would probably do more harm than good.

The sniper took another shot at Chorilax and missed as he abandoned his rifle and coat and grabbed his saddlebag, stumbling toward the window. Clumsily, he dove through and landing heavily onto his back on the metal platform below. His bag landed onto his chest, its contents clattering noisily.

"Chorilax, are you okay? You..." Savanna paused, panting, "...don't look so good. Can you walk?"

The changeling looked weary. His brilliant, artic-blue eyes were dimmer than usual. Despite the fact his tough exoskeleton rendered him immune to being stabbed by the sharp chunks of glass, he had been shot in the shoulder, and it clearly was hindering his ability to walk.

"I'm going to try." Chorilax stood up from the hard metal floor, leaning his weight on his uninjured legs. He slung his saddlebag over his back and tightened the strap, securing it. "We need to get out of this city. Follow me!"

Chorilax leapt off of the metal platform, halting his downwards momentum as he spread his papery wings and flew up to the roof. Savanna tightened her satchel's strap and began ascending the metal stairs as quickly as she could, trying to avoid tripping. As she rotated around the spiral staircase, she caught the occasional glimpse of the streets below when temporarily positioned in the correct direction. Through the crack between the buildings she was sandwiched between while in the alley, she saw a mass of soldiers mobilizing and moving into the building. Below, some were moving into the alleyway. She wasn't sure if they had spotted her yet—she didn't want to know.

Chorilax landed onto the sloped roof of the building across the alley. He motioned with a hoof to attract Savanna's attention. "Jump across! I'll catch you if you fall!"

Savanna approached the edge of the flat roof the fire exit's spiral staircase had led her to. Briefly, she looked down over the edge and saw the soldiers far below darting around like ants. Nervous, she swallowed, steeling herself.

Savanna backed up and jumped, clearing the gap and landing on her forehooves. She slipped momentarily, losing her balance on the sloped tiles, but caught herself before she fell. Her satchel, despite being tightly secured against her side, bounced up and down. The contents within jangled.

Savanna followed Chorilax as he trotted across the roof and darted around a brick chimney. Clearly, he was in a lot of pain—he was vocalizing with pants, and the way he moved was sluggish and erratic.

Cloverleaf flew across another gap between buildings, beckoning Savanna to jump. She obliged, leaping across, and followed him as he took off again.

"Where are we going?"

"Not towards the bridge, that's for sure," Chorilax responded. "You couldn't fly over that giant gorge, and even if you could, we'd be shot out of the sky. We need to take the long route—head southwest down towards the base of Platinum Falls."

Savanna leapt and Chorilax flew over several buildings before they finally came to a stop. Like Cerise, Queensland had no expansive wall guarding its interior from the outside world. The city's asphalt road yielded to a dirt road that stretched across an open field before meeting a hill and sharply dipping downwards, vanishing from view.

Savanna and her companion exchanged a look, silently acknowledging that they would need to cross a giant, open field before reaching the hill and successfully breaking line of sight. The military would pursue them. It was dangerous—but they had no choice.

Chorilax leapt off of the roof first. He spread his wings before landing, rapidly slowing the velocity of his descent before hitting the grass below. He turned, waiting for Savanna to jump so he could slow her descent with his levitation magic.

Savanna didn't hesitate, understanding that time was of the essence. She leapt, feeling her momentum be slowed by Chorilax's levitation magic before she hit the ground and landed on her hooves. In synchrony, Savanna and her companion rushed for the hill. Being unable to use one of his legs, Chorilax flew, while Savanna galloped. Despite feeling dazed and terrified, Savanna was at almost peak performance—her life depended on her ability to get enough distance between her and the town as quickly as possible.

She heard several loud gunshots ring out from behind and detected the subtle whizzing sound of a bullet zipping by, but she didn't allow herself to slow down.

Savanna could feel her legs growing weaker. Her gallop was becoming sluggish and erratic, with the pounding of her hooves against the dirt growing heavier with each passing second. She was struggling to breathe—she couldn't keep running forever.

After she began running downhill, Savanna risked a glance over her shoulder to confirm if soldiers were still pursuing her and her companion. Seeing a group continuing to chase them, she gulped dryly. In the cold morning air, all of the moisture had been siphoned from her eyes and mouth.

Savanna abandoned following the dirt road and headed for the concealment and relative safety of a nearby forest. Reaching a small wood fence, she leapt directly over it, then over a fallen log, weaving through trees and shoving aside bushes, all the while struggling to continue moving in a straight line and not deviate.

No longer hearing the sounds of the military crashing through bushes and brambles in an effort to pursue her, Savanna fell into a sitting position, resting. She held a hoof against her chest, wincing in reaction to an onset of intense stiffness.

Chorilax, no longer hearing the pounding of Savanna's hooves against the dirt as she followed him, stopped, hovering in place in the air. He looked back over his shoulder. "We don't have time to stop! Come on!"

"Can we..." Savanna paused, leaning against the trunk of a nearby tree and panting, "...slow down a little?"

"Just trot, at least."

Savanna obliged. No longer moving at maximum speed, her heart was given a chance to rest. It was beating twice as fast as normal—it was beating so fast that Savanna's whole body was gently resonating in synchrony. She panted in an futile attempt to catch her breath.

Her heartbeat was slowing, though, however gradually. Her body, acknowledging that she no longer required the energy to gallop at maximum speed, cut off her supply of adrenaline. The first wave of pain Savanna felt was enough to make her stop trotting and gently cry out in surprise, which Chorilax immediately reacted to.

"Are you alright?"

"Ah..." Savanna placed a hoof against the elongated piece of broken glass that had bitten into her side back in Queensland. Touching it made the area flare up in pain. "N - no..."

Chorilax's eyes widened. He stopped hovering, landing onto his three good legs and folding his wings against his back. "By the queen..." He murmured, eying Savanna's injury, "that... looks like it hurts."

"Ah didn't think it'd hurt this bad..."

Using some levitation magic, Chorilax reached into his saddlebag and dug around inside. Glass containers and metal objects clanked together noisily. He drew out a metal box, opened it, peeked inside and nodded, placing it back into his saddlebag. "We should find shelter first. Can you keep walking?"

Savanna put one hoof in front of the other, slowly moving forward. She increased her speed to a normal walk. She winced, feeling a light ache in her side from where she had been injured. "Ah'm fine."

Chorilax nodded, extending his wings and hovering a few feet off the ground, flying forward at a slower pace than before. Savanna trailed behind him, slowly plodding forward.

As she moved, Savanna listened. Her desperate gallop earlier had scared most of the animals away, and in their absence, the forest was unnaturally quiet. She frowned, suddenly considering that she and her companion could be ambushed at any moment. Scared, she listened more intently, swiveling her ears in all directions. Her own hoofsteps and the buzzing of Chorilax's papery wings were some of the only sounds she could detect at the moment. The audible rustling of her rain poncho made her feel paranoid above all else. For a moment, she considered taking it off, but quickly realized that the glass stuck in her side would make that endeavor challenging.

Another wooden fence separated the edge of the forest from a dirt road. For all Savanna knew, it could have been the same dirt road from earlier. It felt like she and Chorilax had been running in circles earlier.

Savanna climbed over the fence carefully, then stepped onto the hard, compacted dirt road. Another wooden fence separated the road from a giant, flat field where dead or dying cornstalks of various heights were planted in long, even rows. The fields were left in a state of dilapidation in reaction to the upcoming months of winter.

Savanna and her companion exchanged a glance. Wordlessly, they acknowledged the fact that they had managed to escape Queensland and get themselves completely lost simultaneously. For the time being, it was good that they were lost—the Emperian military wouldn't be able to easily track them.

"The farmer's gotta live nearby. Maybe they gotta basement or barn we can hide out in for a little while."

Since he was chatting with Savanna for the time being, Chorilax landed onto the ground, folding his wings against his back and leaning his body weight onto his uninjured legs. In reaction to the wind having started blowing particularly strongly, he shivered forcefully. He was vibrating so strongly that it began to impact his voice. "And how should we respond if they don't desire two wretched strangers trespassing on their property?"

"They don't even have to know we're here at all." Savanna retorted.

Chorilax shrugged with his one good shoulder. He tried to transform into his pony disguise, but failed. Savanna witnessed his appearance flicker between changeling and pony for a few seconds like pathetic sparks from a lighter running dry on fuel.

"Are you okay?" Savanna asked, inquisitive.

"I'm tired, hungry, I've been using a lot of magic today and... I'm cold! Cold in this damn weather! I'm going to save my strength. I don't want to transform right now," Chorilax admitted, dispirited. The glow from his eyes was fainter than ever.

Savanna frowned, feeling pity. She wished she had some warm clothing to offer him, but her measly rain poncho wouldn't suffice.

They kept walking.

Savanna took the lead. She followed the dirt road and circled around the exterior fence of the farm's fields, searching for the farmhouse and barn.

When the road split into an X intersection, Savanna finally spotted an official entrance to the farm. The fence arched upwards to meet a few wooden beams supporting a big sign. A long gravel road stretched across open ground toward a distant, small group of buildings.

Savanna lifting a hoof off of the ground, pointing to a smaller building in the back. "That's a barn back there, alright. They'll see us comin' on this flat ground, though," Savanna observed.

"I think we have no options available but to walk directly in and hope they're too preoccupied to notice us."

Savanna was too tired and cold to argue.

They made a beeline for the barn. Internally, Savanna begged fate that one of the barn doors were unlocked.

Savanna went first. She stepped beneath the shadow of the tall, imposing, red wooden building and touched the handle of one of the barn doors. It turned, and the door swung open. Relieved, Savanna slipped inside. Chorilax followed after quickly checking their surroundings for anypony who may be watching.

The barn was surprisingly dark. The only light sources were small beams of sunlight that poured through cracks in the wooden walls and ceiling. Hanging from a wooden, load-bearing pole was a metal oil lamp. Savanna reached with her mouth and turned the ignition knob, igniting the oil reserves within and casting light across a wide portion of the barn.

As Savanna crossed the barn, her hooves crunched on dry, ground-up bits of hay and straw that covered the floor. Piles of hay were everywhere—she made herself comfortable by removing her satchel and taking a seat on top of one of the piles of hay. Gingerly, she pulled a sleeve of her rain poncho back, feeling the fur on her foreleg where tiny pieces of glass had buried themselves into the skin beneath.

A few feet away, Chorilax set his saddlebag down onto the floor beside himself and sat down onto his own pile of hay. He sat still for a moment, thinking. "I can't believe I messed up that shot," he spoke aloud, shaking his head regrettably.

He paused. Savanna thought he might swear, but he resisted the urge.

Chorilax reached into the bag with some levitation magic and withdrew the metal box, opening it. Within were medical supplies. There were rolls of bandages, small jars of various, unidentifiable powders and long, thin vials of colorful liquid.

Curiously, Savanna eyed the glass containers. "Are those... bottled potions? And powders?"

"Magical potions and powders, yes." Chorilax nodded. "Jovi insisted I take these supplies with me.

"I was shocked to discover how coveted alchemical products became after the practice was outlawed. They're very effective, though. Potions remind me of ambrosia, in a way. Less... delectable, and sometimes inedible, but equally as magical."

"W - wait," Savanna stammered, shocked, "alchemy was outlawed? Why?"

Chorilax shrugged with his one good shoulder. "You're asking the wrong changeling, I'm afraid. I still lived in the hive when the law went into effect. Some ponies say the presence of magical flora in Emperia has diminished over the years regardless of the law, so I suppose alchemists would be hard-pressed in their foraging efforts if they were to try, anyway."

Receiving this news, Savanna frowned. She was too cold and tired to consider the source of and consequences for magical flora vanishing from Emperia. It just made her feel sad.

Chorilax removed the deformed bullet from his shoulder and dabbed some beige powder onto his wound, swathing the area with bandages. With a grunt, he snapped his sharp teeth and cleanly severed the bandages he required from the roll. Then, he returned the roll to the box, along with the glass jar of mysterious powder.

"Come over here."

Savanna obeyed. She sat down before Chorilax, presenting her wounded side to him. The glass shard waved back and forth as Savanna shifted her weight.

"Stand still."

When Savanna remained still, Chorilax used levitation magic to quickly yank the glass shard out. Savanna cried out in surprise. Instinctively, she tried reaching a hoof over and kneading the wounded area, but Chorilax swatted her hoof away with his own. Savanna, understanding the message he had silently communicated, kept her hooves planted against the floor.

With the help of Chorilax's levitation magic, Savanna removed the rain poncho. She kept her eyes firmly affixed to one of the barn's wooden walls, avoiding looking at where Chorilax was working. She knew that the sight of her own blood would make her feel nauseous.

Chorilax used his sharp teeth to separate a strip of bandages and a strip of adhesive tape from their respective rolls. Before Savanna could react, he stuck the tape directly onto the fur on her side to secure a strip of bandages over her wound.

"Hey!"

"It may be painful to remove," Chorilax admitted, "but it's sensible enough to warrant the pain."

Savanna shrugged, accepting her fate. "Can you please remove some of the glass in mah leg?"

"You really were peppered, weren't you?" Chorilax used his precise levitation magic to comb over her foreleg and remove individual, tiny shards of glass shrapnel. Savanna winced as each piece was floated out and tossed away.

"Ah'm not armored like you are."

"I'm hardly armored." Chorilax snorted. "That round pierced directly into me. I wasn't raised to work as a hive guard. Those changelings—you may have witnessed a few in the basement we resided in when living in Queensland—they are heavily armored. I'm sure it's intimidating for some ponies. An extra half-inch of armor plating may sound insignificant, but a changeling could emerge unscathed after being struck with a bullet if he were lucky. I, on the other hoof, am not so fortunate."

"You're, uh..." Savanna hesitated, not wanting to sound offensive, "...not a guard?"

"No. I was an outlier by choice." Chorilax finished removing all of the shrapnel from Savanna's leg. He returned all of his supplies into his bag and levitated out an oval glass bottle that tapered off gradually toward the top where a thin mouth resided, currently corked by a plastic stopper. A menacing, golden-brown liquid within sloshed around, lapping at the walls of the bottle.

"My peers recommended I pursue becoming a harvester. I was—and am, to this day—lightweight, fast, nimble and, most notably, charming. In the beginning, when I was younger, Queen Silver approved of the idea. That was before she had decided to intervene in the conflict between the Emperian pony citizens and their government on the side of the citizens. Back then, though, I didn't know what I wanted to be."

Chorilax removed the plastic stopper and sniffed the formidable liquid within. He immediately recoiled, coughing. "Ugh, what in the queen's name...?"

"What is that?" Savanna asked aloud. Internally, though, she already knew the answer.

"Jovi also gave me this. It's a bottle of 'whiskey'. I've never heard of it, nor do I know what it's composed of. She assured me it mitigates pain, though, and makes you feel warm. It sounds magical, but I can't be certain."

"That ain't magical, Chorilax," Savanna warned, motioning with a hoof. "And it ain't topical—ya drink it."

Chorilax shrugged with his good shoulder. He levitated the bottle's mouth to his own and tilted his head and the bottle back simultaneously, taking a small sip. Immediately, he coughed, choking slightly. "By the queen...!"

Savanna grinned, laughing at the changeling's unadulterated reaction. "She didn't mention it tastes like crap?"

"Yes." Chorilax grimaced, lowering the bottle. He coughed again, breathing. "Ugh. Ponies drink this... for fun?"

"Yeah! Ah didn't know changelings could drink anything at all, actually, now that ah think about it. Ah know y'all don't eat food."

"We consume food," Chorilax defended himself, motioning with the bottle, "just not pony food. Harvesters drink love magic directly from creatures, and drones and worker changelings have their fill of stored love in the hive. Ambrosia is reserved for hatchlings primarily, but grown changelings can be awarded some under specific circumstances. All changelings require water to survive, though—we are only partly composed of magic."

Savanna, fascinated by the influx of new information, suddenly thought of something. "Are ya sure it's healthy for you to drink that? Ah mean, ya don't eat regular food, but that drink is made from grains."

"I'll probably be fine," Chorilax replied. "I'm willing to take the risk. Jovi promised me it would make me feel warm, and I certainly want to, right now."

He took another sip. The foul taste made him instinctively grimace, but he vocalized little, managing to swallow what he had in his mouth.

"Do you want some?"

Savanna immediately shook her head, having predicted he would have asked. "No, thank you. Ah'm not allowed."

Chorilax narrowed one eye, widening another, giving the impression he was raising an eyebrow. Clearly, he was confused. "Why?"

"Ah can't until mah next birthday. It's required. By law."

Chorilax widened his eye further, silently entreating Savanna to continue.

"Well, ya see... alcohol does... it..." Savanna hesitated, unsure how to phrase her explanation. "It causes you to feel things ya wouldn't normally feel and do things ya wouldn't normally do. It makes you feel like a different pony, so I've heard."

"That sounds good."

"If ya drink too much, though, it can have serious side effects. Memory loss, disorientation, confusion, stupidity—very temporarily, of course, but you can wind up makin' a fool outta yourself in public in that short amount of time or potentially hurting yourself if nopony is around to watch you.

Chorilax considered what she had said. He shook the bottle gently, watching the liquid inside slosh around. "Admittedly, I see no drawbacks to that."

"Chorilax, trust me, you—" Savanna was too late. The negotiations were over.

Chorilax took a long drink, managing to choke the potent liquid down with a few coughs. "When do the side effects set in?" He asked.

"Well, ah don't know," Savanna admitted, shrugging. "Ah've never drank with somepony else before."

"From the way you have described it, Savanna," Chorilax spoke, motioning with the bottle. "It seems to me the only reason that law exists is to protect ponies who are ignorant of the side effects. You appear perfectly logical. You don't seem to be a fool."

"Well, thanks. Nice offhand compliment." Savanna chuckled.

"You know what I mean."

"Sure, ah do."

"Well?" Chorilax levitated the bottle forward, offering it.

Savanna was hesitant to reach out with a hoof. She spent a long moment considering. She knew that she was being presented an opportunity to have fun that she would probably never get again for a long time, and she would probably forget about it in the morning after a long night's sleep anyway... so she made her choice.

"What are ya doin', Chori?"

Chorilax balanced on one of his rear hooves on top of a giant pyramid of hay, standing upright like a rigid cane and balancing a glass jar on the tip of his crooked horn. "I'll tell you, I don't know!" He slipped, falling heavily onto his side onto the blend of crushed hay and straw on the floor. A big plume of dust went everywhere, and the jar bounced onto the ground, skittering across the floor and vanishing into some dark corner somewhere. Joyful laughter immediately erupted from both of them.

"Oh, Celestia," Savanna swore after stumbling slightly from laughing so hard. The glass bottle of whiskey in one of her hooves was held tightly, but had almost spilled. "Ah almost spilled it!"

"Let me hold onto it then!" Too inebriated to even use levitation magic, Chorilax trotted forward and extended one of his hooves, snatching the bottle. He tilted his head back and gulped down more of the vile liquid, releasing a big sigh, contented yet pained from the burning sensation.

"Celestia," Savanna swore, beginning her sentence strong, "ya know how ya told me y'all changelings got magic 'n stuff in your veins?"

"We, uh..." Chorilax swayed in place a little, only partly comprehending what Savanna was saying. "Yeah? Yeah, I said that."

"You were bleedin', Chori, and you were moanin' like a grouchy foal," Savanna recalled, giggling, "but..." She trailed off, her expression warping into sudden seriousness. "We both bleed, ya know? We both bleed, and ah know we don't got the same color in our veins, and ya got, like, honest magic in ya, but, we ain't so different, you and ah."

Chorilax swayed. "Yeah! You're right! We're not so different!" He reached out, placing a hoof on Savanna's shoulder. "I'm glad I got you as a friend. Shit—who else do I have? Jovi? Jovi isn't shit," Chorilax continued, complaining, "she treats me like a regular old stallion, but she and I both know I'm not one. She only comes to me when she needs a stallion in her life right then and there, but never any other time. She doesn't care how I fucking feel!"

Savanna considered this for a moment. Having only comprehended part of what Chorilax had said, yet understanding the gist of it, she reached out, patting him on the shoulder with a hoof. "Naw, naw, ah get it, Chori. Ponies can be that way! Just... bucking impossible sometimes! Ya wanna know somethin'? Spotlight, mah friend, or so she says, is so... shy! It's stupid—she's stupid! That filly just don't know how to speak her damn mind. And ah am the one speaking for her most of the time!"

Savanna prepared to continue rudely gossiping about her friends. Chorilax prepared to continue listening, clutching onto the whiskey bottle tightly. By that point, the liquid within was more than halfway gone.

A beam of bright sunlight shining in through a crack in the barn roof awoke Savanna. She grimaced in pain, reaching up to rub at her eyes with her hooves, only to realize that she was buried up to her neck in hay. She clenched her eyes shut, wanting to escape the light.

"Ughhh... buck," she moaned, aggravated.

"Savanna?"

Savanna opened her eyes, looking in the direction of the voice. She squinted, seeing Chorilax sat on a small pile of hay. "Yeah?"

"Do you... remember anything that happened last night? Do you remember anything I told you?" Chorilax sounded desperate. He looked confused and a little scared. "What the hell did I tell you?"

"No, ah don't remember anything," Savanna admitted. "But, look, Chorilax, it's alright. Being forgetful is normal—and so is this damned headache..."

"So, my head aching is normal?" Chorilax kneaded below his horn with a hoof to try to alleviate the pain. Savanna reached one of her hooves out of the giant pyramid of hay, mimicking him. It didn't work.

"Do ya got any idea what time it is?"

"Late in the day, that's all I'm aware of. The fact the military didn't locate us hiding out here means we hid pretty well, though—or they're terrible at searching. Time is probably not of the essence."

"Oh... yeah... right." Savanna, reminded of reality and all the problems she had, sighed. So many ponies still wanted her dead, and she was still so far from home.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"It's okay, Chorilax." Savanna locked eyes with the changeling, smiling. "Ah had fun last night. That's all that matters." And it was true. She had enjoyed herself. She remembered very little, but she knew she had fun.

"I..." Chorilax frowned, looking away.

"You can admit you had fun too, y'know. Ah don't think your queen is gonna come bust down them doors there and kill ya on the spot." Aloe pointed with a hoof to two of the barn's doors.

Chorilax rolled his eyes. "I understand that. It's just..." He trailed off.

"...I enjoyed myself too. Despite the fact I may have disclosed too much information to you."

"Ah remember nothin'." Savanna wiggled her way out of the hay, stepping onto the barn floor and stretching and yawning. A sudden shock of cold struck her, and she recoiled, shivering. Remembering what season it was, she regretted leaving the pyramid of hay. It had been warm and insulated inside.

"By the queen, I'm famished," Chorilax muttered, holding a hoof against his chest and grimacing.

He made eye contact with Savanna. "I considered stealing your love from your dreams last night, but the guilt of not asking for your permission first would have eaten me alive."

"You... were considering doing what to me?" Savanna frowned, confused and a little intimidated.

"I was considering feeding off of your dreams when you were asleep just a few moments ago. I neglected to do so, though. The alternative is I eat some of the ambrosia I have packed, which, I suppose, is not quite a waste considering I lack the energy to even form complex thoughts at the moment."

Savanna raised an eyebrow, finally deciding to ask. "What's ambrosia?"

Chorilax reached into his nearby bag with a hoof and withdrew a large, glass jar. Within, a sparkling, neon-pink substance reached halfway up the walls of the jar. It gently glowed, irradiating colored light like a firefly. Like a big firefly.

"Is it... food?"

"Not just simple food. This is an energy-dense substance refined from love magic. The workers produce it—female changelings," Chorilax clarified. "Hatchling caretakers possess the natural qualities required to produce it, specifically. No one else can, aside from the queen herself. It's highly coveted. All hatchlings are fed it so they develop quickly, and grown changelings can only eat it with permission by the worker herself, typically after he's done something to warrant a reward.

"With that being said, you can infer that ambrosia is very special to changelings. This is mine. I earned it. I've had it for many years. And..." Chorilax sighed sadly. "...I ate half of it in my stupor last night."

"Ah'm sorry to hear that."

"I as well."

With that being said, Chorilax used his levitation magic to unscrew the lid from the jar and delicately scoop a spoonful-sized ball of the pink substance. He popped it into his mouth, closing his eyes and releasing a gentle, relaxed sigh. He chuckled. "It's... enrapturing." He opened his eyes, gazing over at Savanna. "Do you want to try?"

"Well, ya got me curious, now! Sure."

"Be careful, please." Chorilax gingerly handed Savanna the jar of ambrosia, which she accepted, cradling in her forehoof like a newborn foal. The substance within the jar gently glowed, practically humming with magic.

"Ah, uh..." Savanna blushed, embarrassed. She pointed at the jar's mouth, then waved her hoof. It was too wide to fit.

Chorilax got the message. He chuckled, amused. "Oh, right. Here." He used his levitation and scooped a spoonful-sized dollop out from the jar. Savanna opened her mouth and allowed herself to be fed from the levitation magic. She tried using her tongue to push the ambrosia around in her mouth to chew, but it merely soaked into her tongue and gums. It faded with the subtly of a dream upon waking, or a memory upon forgetting. And the taste...

It tasted like... her parents. Like home. Like Night Owl and Spotlight and all her friends back home in school. It tasted like how she remembered her childhood, chasing a young Spotlight through fields of flowers, making crowns and bracelets out of woven flowers. It tasted like the songs she sang and heard. It tasted like love.

Savanna cried. A tear dripped down from her eyes, narrowly missing landing directly into the jar. To prevent any impurities from mixing with his ambrosia, Chorilax snatched the jar away from Savanna's clutches.

"Are you alright, Savanna?"

Savanna gently shook, her eyes clenched shut. Memories were flooding her, memories so sweet and pleasant and sudden they overwhelmed her.

"Ah..." Savanna rubbed at her eyes, feeling embarrassed, like she was being judged for being a dumb, babbling, crybaby foal. "Ah'm sorry."

"It's alright, Savanna. Though, I admit I've never quite seen someone react so... strongly to ambrosia before." Chorilax, still feeling starved and needing to eat, ate some more ambrosia. He ate four more spoonful-sized daubs before screwing the lid back on tight and placing the jar back into his bag. The glow in his eyes immediately intensified. He looked stronger and healthier.

"Can ah... have more? Please?" Savanna begged. The intense feelings of love were already fading from her mind.

"No." Chorilax shook his head firmly. "You would probably get addicted. Changelings can eat all their ambrosia in one period and not receive more for months—or even years. The strategy is to reward yourself with some occasionally. I've witnessed changelings wolf down their share immediately and then regret it after. It escalated to the point that Queen Silver implemented a law: any changelings who showed signs of addiction to ambrosia would be subject to punishment.

Savanna frowned, pouting.

Chorilax remained quiet, having said all he needed to.

Savanna sighed, knowing that he was right. Resisting the intense urge to eat more ambrosia, she stood and rotated in a circle, looking around. "Have ya seen mah bag anywhere, Chorilax?"

"No. I hope it's still in here and one of us didn't take it outside and lose it somewhere."

Savanna, dreading this, began quickly searching. She checked corners and sifted through the piles of hay formed into various sizes, including the gigantic pyramid. Eventually, she found her revolver buried under a pile of hay in the corner of the room. It was unloaded, and the cylinder was swung open. "What the buck did we do last night...?" Savanna wondered aloud.

Her satchel was buried deep in the pyramid of hay. Luckily, despite its flap being open, the satchel contained all of Savanna's belongings. They were arranged in a completely different order, suggesting she or Chorilax had played with her belongings at some point during the night.

She sifted through her belongings, hoping nothing was broken or anything made of paper was ripped.

Savanna noted a few of the photos she had taken so far into her journey were bent or crumbled, which irritated her, but at least the pictures they depicted were still clear enough to see.

A few pages in her journal were ripped. Several blank pages in the back of the book had been ripped out messily. Savanna flipped through the book, begging fate that none of her entries had been scrawled on or scribbled over.

At the end of the book, near the ripped and ragged pages, was a new journal entry. Savanna raised an eyebrow, seeing the messy, unrecognizable writing. She scanned the words, reading.

chori is a real great guy. like, a reallly really great guyy. hes standng right here nexttome and we bothare sharing a boooze and just laughing and just talking about stuff. like really reaally importent stuff. hes saying his marefriend is a total drag which i totally get, she doesn't understand his needs and i totally understand. my parents dont understand me night owl doesnt understand me spotlight doesnt understand me—

Savanna stopped reading. Embarrassed, her cheeks flushed with pink as she immediately tore out the page and balled it up, tossing it away into one of the corners of the room.

Chorilax gazed at her curiously, narrowing one eye. "What was that?"

"Nothin', trust me."

Savanna was already feeling the regret.