Cutie Mark Crusaders Fantasian City-State Historians, YAY!!!!!!

Chapters

First Day, Morning—The Rundown
First Day, Afternoon—Irongrey's Origin
First Day, Evening—Uncomfortable Revelations
Second Day, Morning—Ensemble
Second Day, Afternoon—Ranch Samples
Second Day, Evening—Catastrophic Revelation
Third Day, Morning—Apologies and Abstractions
Third Day, Afternoon—Pilot's Perambulations
Fourth Day, Morning—Uncomfortable Queries
Fourth Day, Afternoon Part I—Factory Investigation
Fourth Day, Afternoon Part II—Acrimonious Anomaly
Fourth Day, Evening—Achievement
Fifth Day, Morning—Zenith
Fifth Day, Afternoon—Sleight of Hoof
Fifth Day, Evening—Anger Management
Sixth Day, Morning Part I—Reflections of Seasoned Fighters
Sixth Day, Morning Part II—Boorish Banishment
Sixth Day, Afternoon—Conveyors of Cargo
Sixth Day, Evening—Lonesome March
Seventh Day, Morning—List of Inedibles
Seventh Day, Afternoon—Written Testimony
Seventh Day, Evening—Hoofprint of Approval
Seventh Night, Dawn of the Eighth Day—Catching Up
Epilogue, Part I—Showtime
Epilogue, Part II—A New Destiny
Prologue—Assignment
Third Day, Evening—Blossoming Report

First Day, Morning—The Rundown

The following morning, after everyone more or less woke up and gathered in the mess hall to consume breakfast, the Crusaders couldn't help but notice that something was amiss with their military charges. For starters, Anna, a young Fantasian unicorn, wasn't partially covered in wood and vines like the last time they had seen her, let alone in a strange alphabet spread practically across her body for all they knew. For another, said alphabet was silver in color, offsetting the rest of her tan-beige coat in a rather unsettling way that unnerved the trio the more they looked at it. Two scars were stretching across her back between withers and hinds as if something used to be there, but now wasn't. Her viridian mane was unkempt, and she avoided most of everyone even through eye contact, opting to stick close to Lance as if he could hide her.

And speaking of Lance, his wings now seemed okay—fully flighted feathers, large crimson primaries that complimented his burnt orange coat, the whole nine yards. Scootaloo grinned at him, glad that he got the wind back beneath his wings, and her grin broadened when he looked at her and returned the smile. She turned to the other Crusaders, who had been eyeballing a whole group of new ponies seated at their own table and keeping to themselves.

Many of those ponies at that table had green coats and manes, though most had either one or the other. None of the foals of the group, however, seemed keen to play—everypony at that table was sulking for some reason. Stranger still, some adults had that weird alphabet thing going on with their pelts and others didn't. The only exception to the sulking and the alphabet were the infants, either nursing or sleeping quietly in their mothers' forelegs.

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom both turned back to Scootaloo. "What's with those ponies?" Apple Bloom asked, turning to glance back to the strangers keeping to their own table. "I thought most everybody here was nothing but drafted gryphons and changelings."

"Rarity did say the survivors of Greenwood got rounded up… she wouldn't say how that happened though," Sweetie replied, keeping her voice low enough to avoid letting the sulking ponies hear her, on the off-chance that they were said survivors of Greenwood. She glanced over her shoulder as a golden-eyed changeling paused her trotting to stare at her and her group. "What?"

The golden-eyed changeling sighed. "Listen, kiddos…" she began with a grimace, wings twitching as she took a moment to figure out how best to compose herself. "I'm only gonna say this once, and if I don't, someone else is going to—and chances are they'll be far less friendly than I'm being now." Her wings sagged as she said, "Whatever you do, do not go around touching any of the magitek around here without a grownup supervising you."

The Crusaders shared glances, then looked to the changeling with tilted heads. "Why?" they asked in unison.

The changeling leaned in close to them, glancing at all of them before speaking, "It's powered by a lot of strong magic, enough to make grown wooly mammoths drop dead as a dingbat. It could do almost anything if mishandled, and I mean almost anything. Like… severing your wings or draining your innate magics dry, or things like that." The Crusaders' eyes widened, and they looked at her rather disbelievingly. "Just take my word for it, and make sure you have at least one of our Lieutenant-Generals on standby if you want a demonstration." With that she lifted her head and trotted off to another table.

Sweetie Belle piped up once she was sure the changeling was out of earshot. "Well… that was weird," she muttered.

Scootaloo nodded, glancing at her long-emptied plate for a moment. "Yeah…" She turned to her fellow Crusaders and ruffled her wings. "I get the feeling we're not gonna be Crusading while we do our weeklong homework here, either."

"Well, we probably couldn't Crusade here anyway," Apple Bloom pointed out, lifting a hoof to gesticulate to the unusually high number of changelings and gryphons surrounding them. "This place is more magitek than even Doctor Whooves's weird blue box, and if we even tried Crusading? A soldier's probably gonna stop us 'fore we got any Crusading ideas off the ground."

Apple Bloom then gestured to the sulking ponies, then at a wall that sported suspiciously raised booths, where Lance and his cohorts sat, watching with hawkish eyes. "That's not even thinking about how Fantasians might feel about cutie marks, either. And if I remember right, none of 'em would tell me how they got their marks." She paused for a moment, then finished with, "Just said that it was a long, boring story that would make me cry myself to sleep or something."

Sweetie turned to look at Apple Bloom with a bit of a pout. "So… say we did Crusade, then. How would we do it?" she asked.

Apple Bloom shrugged. "I 'unno, girls. I did have an idea that we could Crusade for our historian cutie marks, but…" She gestured around the mess hall again, and Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo glanced around to find more than a few soldiers watching them as they tossed their ideas to and fro. "How would we get them here?"

Scootaloo lifted a hoof to hold her chin up. "Good point…" she grumbled in agreement. It was at that moment, the group heard a low buzzing noise and glanced around to try and locate the sound.

"I don't care if this breaks my illusion, Godcat-damnit, they're gonna need someling who's already died so they know how bad Fantasia is!" a rather hollow voice snapped as the buzzing started to come closer to the Crusaders. The three glanced up as a shadow fell over Scootaloo, the source shifting just enough to land next to the trio's table. At first, all they could see of the creature were its ears and spread wings, but then it reared up onto the table to greet them as properly as it could.

The Crusaders turned to the entity and collectively shrieked before backing away as much as the table would allow. "No," the creature said, shaking its skeletally-thin head and stringy scarlet mane as it looked at them with glowing orbs housed in empty eye-sockets, "I'm not here to devour you."

Apple Bloom was the first to stop panicking, but she beheld the thing with wide, skeptical eyes. She watched as the thing hauled its body up onto the table, showing off just how… bony it was. There were no two ways about it, the creature could have legitimately passed itself off as a skeleton in a closet for Nightmare Night, even with the thinly-stretched chitin keeping its bones in check. The white-carapaced creature could barely be called a changeling, sporting four wings, unusually long ears, a broken horn and a carved smile that stretched from ear to ear. "Y-ya sure you haven't been cursed?" Apple Bloom squeaked.

The barely-changeling sighed and nodded. "Far as I can tell," it said. "Unless immortality counts as a curse." By now, some members of the crowd surrounding them began to mumble, with heads turned to the table as the scene unfolded.

"Great, she's terrorizing the kids…"

"Can't even be around other little ones without making them fuss…"

"That thing was at Greenwood two nights ago… why is it here?"

"I'm surprised the kids haven't smashed their plates to defend themselves yet…"

"Rarity, should we stop her? I think we should stop her…"

"It's too late to undo the damage, and Lance hasn't done anything yet… you might as well step in, Applejack…"

Apple Bloom still didn't look convinced. "Do you turn others into zombies by touching them?" she asked out of the blue.

The barely-changeling took a step back, a hind hoof dangling off the table as the question caused its ears to rotate. "No!" it replied with widening orbs; the Crusaders noticed a hint of femininity in its dead voice. "I certainly don't do that!" It—no, she—looked at Apple Bloom as incredulously as her mangled face would allow. "What makes you think that?!"

Apple Bloom's brow furrowed, and her ears pinned back as she stared the barely-changeling down. Before she could open her mouth to retort, Applejack trotted over and grabbed the changeling with her forehooves, lifting her up into the air and plopping her onto her backside before reverting to all fours in one smooth motion. Apple Bloom was about to scream, when she paused to take a look at the scene—her sister wasn't affected in any way by the physical touching. No withering, shivering, nothing. In fact, she seemed right as rain, if a bit miffed at the changeling's antics.

Applejack sighed and turned to the barely-changeling. "Listen, I can get you showing them your true face, but could you have been more gentle about it?" she asked.

The changeling shook her head. "How can you be gentle about this?" she retorted, waving at herself with a hoof. "I was under two illusions the last time they saw me!"

Applejack's brow furrowed, but only for a moment. She heaved another sigh. "Oh consarnit, I hate that you have a point…" She turned to the Crusaders with a slight frown. "Y'all remember that red-maned Fantasian filly that came to Ponyville?" The Crusaders shared glances, and nodded to Applejack, who then gestured to the changeling on her back. "Well… this is what that filly really looks like."

A brief bout of staring came and went, eyes glancing between Applejack and the changeling, before Scootaloo piped up. "So… she's actually a zombie?"

"Wraith," the changeling corrected with an irritable snort.

Apple Bloom's brain started going into overdrive as pieces fell into place. She remembered a filly helping her sort apples, and looking at her strangely when offered a chance to join the Crusaders… and then, it suddenly made sense. So that was why the filly declined; she was unable to obtain a mark of her own at all! "So ya couldn't've said something?" she asked.

The changeling shook her head. "Not without getting a rolling pin to the face," she said. She pointed to Applejack and added, "She told me about your grandmother. I didn't want that risk."

Apple Bloom looked to Applejack for confirmation. Alas, her big sister gave her a tired nod. "Granny Smith said to consult the flippin' General, and that's what I done did," Applejack said, still frowning. "Illusions were the only safe way to keep everypony in Ponyville from losing their marbles."

"Because most ponies in Ponyville didn't like the Fantasians?" Apple Bloom asked.

Applejack nodded. "That's exactly why. They didn't need another reason to run around screaming like headless chickens."

A portal opened up above those in the mess hall, plaid-colored and sparking with lightning. Discord poked his head out of it, and turned to the raised booths before using his tail to gently lower a sloshing, closed barrel to the floor. Then, he put a jar of rainbow jam on top of it. "No, I didn't touch your barrel of cider or zap apple jam with chaos. Feel free to enjoy~" With that, he retracted head and tail into the portal, and it grew a zipper to zip shut behind him.

Applejack wryly grinned. "Ah, yeah, the promised goods," she muttered. She glanced up at the raised booths where Lance and his buddies sat, still watching the proceedings like nothing had happened. "Y'all wanna sample the cider?"

Her grin was returned in earnest, and large wings snapped open. "Aw, hell yeah I do!" Lance called with a grin and crimson eyes gleaming.

Even the wraith's orbs shined, somehow. "Is it bad I want in on it too?" she said, licking her chops with a tongue as pale as the rest of her.

Applejack giggle-snorted, and lifted a hoof to cover her mouth. "T'ain't bad at all," she muttered.

~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~

Later that morning, Applejack stood outside the door to Lance's office with the Crusaders in tow. She was smiling, remembering when Lance told Apple Bloom he loved the cider, and her smile widened upon recalling the excited squee she made as she went to hug his foreleg. She shared a glance with her sister, and her own smile made Applejack's heart melt a little. Who knew Lance could be such a big softie? If she hadn't known Shining Armor before meeting Lance, or if she hadn't known any better at all, she'd have assumed that military generals were incapable of having soft spots and bouts of compassion.

She couldn't help but overhear some things Lance was telling whoever else was with him in his office, but most of it slipped past her attention. When Anna trotted out with Fenrir, who turned to kneel in front of the Crusaders and petted their heads with a large and fuzzy paw. He even wagged his spike-studded tail a little when doing it, yet managed to look calm and collected despite the action. "You three haven't seemed to change that much in the brief passage of time I have known you when we were in Equestria," he said with a slight grin. "Such boundless energy and curiosities should be nourished, and it seems yours have stoked a fire that burns ever brightly."

The Crusaders turned to Applejack with a collective "Huh?" leaving their mouths. Applejack laughed.

"He means y'all's growing up good is all," she translated with a wide grin.

The Crusaders grinned back and replied in tandem, "Thank you Fenrir!" Fenrir smirked, patted them again, then stood to follow Anna as she trotted down the hall.

Behind him was Sarah—who also sported similar scars to Anna, offsetting her tan-beige coat and brown hippogryph claws, with a really nasty one stretching across her pony-faced forehead—and a strange crystal stallion with a brown mane, beige coat and blue eyes. Both the stallion and Sarah turned to share a brief nod before trotting down the hall that lead to a lift at the end. Anna let her group settle into the lift; before the lift could go down, Maria trotted out the office a moment after, and ran to catch up with the four. She was swift and true, with her dusty brown wings flapping and her front claws scritch-scratching as she went.

Apple Bloom called out to Maria, who turned around before she could board the lift, "Hey! You doin' alright?"

Maria frowned, her violet mane rustling a bit as she tilted her head. "Yeah, why?"

"Just wanted to see if y'all was okay." Apple Bloom nudged Scootaloo with a hoof, and Scootaloo bristled before nodding.

"Sorry about last night; it's just… I haven't seen you in a while, and I didn't get the chance to know you better," Scootaloo added, grinning sheepishly.

Maria nodded and smiled back, boarding the lift. "It's okay; daddy says I can't tell you what I know yet anyway," she replied.

Now, it was Scootaloo's turn to tilt her head. "Why not?"

Anna lifted a wood-covered hoof, now ending in sanded beast-like claws, and held it in front of Maria's barrel before she could speak and answered in her stead, "Well… it's not for fillies like you to really know about. She knows things that only grown-ups are supposed to talk about."

The Crusaders wilted with an "Aaaaaaaaaaaaw!"

Anna shook her head. "Now, now, it's one of those… erm..." She looked up at the ceiling briefly, mouth fumbling a bit as she fished for words, "really, really gross things that kids generally shouldn't, wouldn't and couldn't want anything to do with." With that, she pressed a button on the lift with her raised hoof, and the lift shook, closed its glass doors, and down the hatch they went.

Apple Bloom turned to Applejack and asked, "Sis… those weird markings on the twins were…"

Applejack immediately silenced her with a gentle patting of the head, her smile falling and her eyes taking on a distant, haunted look as concern flashed in their retinas. "Bloom, I love you and all… but that's just a question not worth asking," she said oddly darkly, though not threateningly.

"Why not?" Apple Bloom frowned herself, noticing her sister's immediate change in demeanor with the topic. She knew, straight away, that something was up about it.

"It has nothing but bad answers all 'round. Believe me, Twilight gave me what she thinks is the full story, and I know Lance already has the full story. Even I can't help but shiver whenever I think of…" She looked to the lift where the twins had gone, or maybe at a point past it with how distant her gaze grew. "The hell they endured. My mind can't stop wondering 'bout how those scars got there, and fer the life of me, I think I'm better off not knowing those answers m'self."

Apple Bloom sighed, seeing that she wasn't going to get anywhere with her current inquiries. So she changed the subject. "So Sarah's wing got better?"

Applejack nodded, turning back to smile at her sister. Even then, the haunted look in her eyes failed to diminish. "Ayep. She can fly alright, but the doc told her to take it easy just in case something goes wrong." She glanced to the lift again and added, "Although, I think she might disregard the doc's orders this time 'round."

Then something Applejack didn't miss registered in her mind as she heard Lance utter it. "You get to help the Crusaders on their little project," he said, an audible smile in his voice.

Silence held for just a second. Then Applejack heard the wraithling shout out, "Whaaaaaaaaaat?!"

Applejack couldn't hide the snort that left her snout even if she tried. It seemed Lance was about to dabble in the standard brand of Fantasian insanity. And at this rate, well, she couldn't have expected anything less; nothing of the sort could have even gotten under her skin now.

She hated that aspect of herself, of getting used to the overall craziness of things. But then again, wasn't life itself crazy? It threw bitterly-stinging lemons at her all the time, from small annoyances to great tragedies with the same vitriol that it addressed every other living thing on the sister worlds with.

Finally, after an eternity, the wraithling emerged with a tired sigh. "Alright you three... " she began, looking at the Crusaders intently with half-lidded orbs. If she could frown she would've, but unfortunately her lack of cheeks prevented her from doing so. "I'm going to lay down a few ground rules. Simple, easy-to-follow, so don't get your tails in a twist," she said as they groaned in unison.

"Number one: no touching the magitek without adult supervision; Lance stressed that I remind you of this, and even though I'm technically an adult, I don't count as 'proper supervision' on the grounds that I'm not experienced with magitek, so don't go asking me to press the buttons for you."

"Number two: never, ever ask about a soldier's scars. They're not relevant to your reports, even if you somehow go up the chain of command to Lance himself. It's rude, bothersome, and all around an awkward experience." The wraithling gestured to her face for emphasis. "I can barely remember how I got mine, so don't get your hopes up there." At their nod, she continued.

"Number three: If you want to question certain laws that we mention, you can, but chances are you're better off not asking. If the law happens to affect you somehow, ask away, and we'll try to explain it to you." Here, the Crusaders just gave her a strange look, and she shrugged. "I'm as clueless as you are on this one, so chances are I'll be asking other soldiers about it to get the nitty-gritty myself."

"Number four: for the sake of brevity, wit, and soul, if you ask about the Aerie's official religion, it's 'Godcat-aligned.' Not worshiping Her much, but taking Her existence very seriously. Currently, the same holds true of Faust. Long story behind that which will be given to you lot some other time."

"Number five: for the sake of convenience, highest rung here is General, followed by Lieutenant-General, followed by Colonel, Major, Lieutenant, Sergeant, and lastly, Private. I'm that last rank, but we'll do away with formalities with me since I was just inducted into the army."

"Lastly, number six: don't ask too many questions about cutie marks, it's the same deal with scars. Though in most cases, this isn't applicable on the grounds that we have more non-ponies here than ponies. Am I perfectly clear?"

The Crusaders nodded in unison. "Yes ma'am!" they replied, frowning firmly.

The wraithling lifted her hooves and waved them in front of her as if somepony were holding her at knifepoint for some hard bits. "Now, now, now, you're not military yet, no need for that ruckus," she said, shaking her head. "Besides, not many here tolerate foals emulating that behavior, because Plant Tentacles is enough of a hassle, and I heard she was an exception to that rule. We don't need you following in our hoofsteps, m'kay?"

At the Crusaders' more relaxed nods, the wraithling allowed herself to chill. She rubbed the back of her head awkwardly with a bony hoof and added, "And sorry about scaring you three earlier. I was expecting the reaction, but thought you'd bash my face against the floor like so many others who've seen me before."

"Bash you against the… never! Rarity would lecture me if that happened!" Sweetie said, eyes widening. "I take it that wraiths aren't welcome in most parts of Fantasia?" At the wraith's headshake, her frown deepened.

"Applejack would give me a switchin' if I did," Apple Bloom added.

"I'd probably be grounded for months for that, and made to say I was sorry," Scootaloo finished, wings fanning out for a moment.

The wraithling shook her head. "Hasn't seemed to have changed much on Fantasia, since before I got my ass sealed. Just a bunch of new faces to get used to, so even I might mess up names here and there," she said with a shrug. "I guess Mythonians really are different from Fantasians, then."

The Crusaders collectively sighed. "So, about that homework… how are we gonna start…" Scootaloo began.

The wraithling lowered her head and groaned. "I guess we could ask around, see what all's there to take in…" she muttered under her breath. She lifted her head and looked at the trio evenly. "I guess we could start with another soldier of my rank and ask them how the Aerie was formed, because truth be told I have no idea myself."

Sweetie shared glances with Applejack, and then asked, "Did any other changelings come with you to Mythos?" she asked.

The wraithling idly nodded, propped a foreleg on her fetlock, and rubbed her chin with her other hoof. "Yes, yes… yes one did… let's see if we can find Armin and ask," she said, a gleam in her beady orbs as she contemplated her options. "Oh, and do you have your pencils and paper with you? Ya might want to take notes while we're doing this whole shebang. Y'know, helping you girls on your assignment and all."

Apple Bloom grinned awkwardly and rubbed the back of her head nervously. "Well, we kinda left 'em in our rooms… can we take a detour to get them?" she asked.

The wraithling nodded. "May as well. Oh, and for proper introductions…" She extended her hoof. "Stupid-sounding name incoming, but it was given to me because I managed to forget my own somehow. Katie Rubywing, at your service."

The Crusaders extended their hooves and shook hers simultaneously. "Nice to meet you properly, Katie Rubywing!" they cheered in unison, bobbing the wraith up and down with their shaking. Not that she minded; she'd suffered worse during her tenure as one of the undead, after all.

When they let go, she turned to the lift at the end of the hall and pointed that way. "And now, we march to the Lands of Proper Rest and Restoration to retrieve our note-taking apparel!" she declared, taking point at the head of the line. Applejack snickered as she brought up the rear, letting the wraithling lead her and her charges onward.

"So why can't we ask Lance any questions now?" Scootaloo asked as they boarded the lift.

Katie pressed on a downward-pointing button with a shrug. "He said he was planning something strategically or some such like that. Can't interfere, I'm afraid," she replied as the lift closed its doors and took them downward. "Not that it matters much; we can just ask the other soldiers when he's available and take it from there."

First Day, Afternoon—Irongrey's Origin

Notepads retrieved, and pencils sharpened, the Crusaders giddily grinned as they prepared a full questionnaire for the unwitting sap that Katie was leading them to. Provided, of course, that she could find him first. She started by asking a few other soldiers around for directions, leading the Crusaders through a twisting maze of steel walls with doors and passing some halls made of malleable stone that seemed to add new doors and holes in the floor of its own will. Those halls typically had bioluminescent moss instead of light crystals to act as their means of sight, though some had a little bit of both.

"So how old are ya?" Apple Bloom asked as Katie lead them down another hall with a lift at the end.

Katie turned her head to glance back as they trotted to the lift. "Honestly, managed to forget that and the death date, too. I can tell you how old I was when I turned into a wraith, though," she said with a shrug. "When I was nine."

The Crusaders shuddered, scarcely able to imagine someone joining the ranks of undead so young. They shared uneasy glances, then turned to her again with floppy ears as she boarded the lift and beckoned them on. "Do you remember how it happened?" Sweetie asked as she and her group, along with Applejack, boarded the lift behind her.

Katie nodded. "Some of it, anyway." She gestured to a changeling soldier who was trotting into another hall with the luminescent moss and shapeshifting stone. "See him? Standard changelings like him used to operate in massive hives around here, made of that rock and moss and ruled by Kings and Queens."

The Crusaders nodded, wondering where she was going with this as she reached for the down button and pressed it, her other three legs wobbling dangerously as the lift closed and she retracted her hoof. "Long ago, before any of you were even born, I used to be in a hive like that, except…" She gestured to her prominent ribs and hip bones, "Well, everyling starved until they looked like bigger copies of me and without the hair that I have. Then we got attacked, and whoever attacked was freakishly strong because by the time they got to me, the rest of the hive had been cut down like grass."

Katie shrugged and shook her head as the lift took them down. "Well, like a dumbass, I charge the bastard twice—can't remember what they look like, sadly—and that's how I lost my horn, my ability to smile and frown, and my life all in one go. I saw a blue light, and next thing I know, I can trot again after feeling death's cold embrace squish me in between its hooves," she concluded with a sigh. "Why was I the only one of the hive to turn, well… been trying to find the answers to that one, and so far, no dice."

The Crusaders shared glances, then looked to Katie again. "You know that's a bad word, right?" Apple Bloom asked.

Katie looked to Apple Bloom, a brow raised. "What word?"

"The dumb one," Apple Bloom replied.

Katie sighed and shook her head. "Well, donkeys and mules have been very rare sightings, I believe, in these parts." She shrugged. "I might ask Lance later about what happened to them, because I've only seen one of each and I can't tell you what happened to those two."

The lift opened and she trotted out, ears perked and rotating. "Besides, as young as I was when I got killed, and all I've seen on Fantasia since then? I've earned the right to use bad words as I see fit," she said, the frown she couldn't produce leaking into her voice. A hall of moss and shapeshifting stone stretched before her, and she twitched her nose as unfamiliar pheromones registered in her brain.

"If ya do come back to Ponyville once this barrier business is over, don't say that kinda language around Cranky Doodle," Applejack warned as Katie began to trot through the hall, taking in sights and smells that seemed to muddle her for a bit.

"Why not?" Katie asked, turning to Applejack even as she registered the distant sound of a lot of hissing coming from somewhere to the left.

"Well, he's Ponyville's resident donkey," Applejack replied with a shrug. "And as far as I can tell, he don't like foals swearing the way you do it. Undead or not, he'd probs tell ya his opinion on the whole thing."

"Duly noted," Katie replied, turning to the left wall as a hole opened up to let another changeling soldier through. She didn't even need to tap this one on the fetlock; he just noticed the group and turned right to her. "Hey, do you know where Armin's at?"

The other soldier gestured to the hole he just left. "Through there, farther up, and to the right. You should find the hatchery from there; he's taking notes on which grubs are about to become nymphs," he said.

Katie's orbs grew wide. "You have a hatchery here? Like the hives of old?" she asked.

The changeling nodded with a smile. "Yep. We still use pheromones to tell whose grubs are whose, even if we don't follow Kings and Queens anymore," he said. He turned to the Crusaders and added, "Oh, and a word of caution: the grubs will bite if you grab them in a way they don't like, and they hurt. So don't just go hassling any you see, even if you do think they are cute." He nudged Katie with a hoof and turned to her even though he was still speaking to the trio. "Same goes for our nooblet here, too. I don't think the grubs like frost wraiths that much."

"Understandable," Katie answered. "Thanks." The soldier nodded in turn and trotted off, and she followed his instructions to the letter, trotting at a sedate pace just to make sure her group followed her and wouldn't get lost in the maze. The unfamiliar pheromones grew stronger the closer she came to them, and she couldn't for the unlife of her figure out the signatures they presented all that well. But then again, it had been an awfully long time since she smelled such chemicals, so maybe the part of her brain responsible for the management of that function was just in need of a new awakening.

And hey, she got a learning experience of her own out of this, too. Maybe that was why Lance chose her as the Crusaders' chaperone: to help her prepare for a more adult life of soldiering, give her some structure she went so long without, she reflected.

It took some moments, but they came upon a hole on the right lined with bioluminescent moss all around, strung up to look like a warm and welcoming gate. "Looks like this is it," Katie said, glancing behind herself to do a quick headcount. Yep, everypony was accounted for, and three had pencil and paper already prepared to take the first notes of the day. She nodded and took a quick peek beyond the moss gate to make sure the floor was clear and that this was where she needed to be.

Clear it was, for there were sturdy ridges built into the rock like shelves, housing untold numbers of little grublings who hissed and purred as they got fed solidified mush radiating wisps of healthy pink miasma, various soldiers tending to them rationing them out so every grub got their share. Some of the larger ones, about twice as big as Pumpkin and Pound Cake put together, were eating so much that Katie half-wondered if they were going to explode from all the food being shoveled into their gobs.

Nonetheless, she searched for a particular changeling soldier among those who was feeding the grublings. She bade her charges to enter, and she followed them inside, beady orbs still searching for her quarry. Fortunately, she didn't have to look far; he was on a lower shelf that she could just trot to, having just finished feeding the grubs on that shelf. His cyan shell and eyes marked him out from the other changelings, as did the distinct jingle of dog tags hanging around his neck.

Katie went right over with her group and chirped, "Hey, Armin, I got some questions," she said, orbs twinking as some of the grubs turned to her and hissed, their cute little forked tongues waving about as they made the motion.

Armin turned as well, smiling as he patted a grubling on the head, earning a soft coo. "Ask away, nooblet. I'm allowed a ten-minute break before I have to head for my next shift," he said.

"Okay, first question: how was the Aerie formed?" Katie began.

Armin winced. "Starting with the tough ones, are we?"

His question was met with a shrug and a roll of the orbs. "Well, I'm new, and I was sealed for Godcat knows how long, so I don't have much knowledge here," she countered.

Armin sighed, unable to counter that point even as he wondered how and why the wraithling managed to get herself sealed. And he was curious as to what went down, the where in which the sealing happened, the when as the date could have been useful, and of course, who was involved in that whole fiasco. But in the end, he could just ask those uncomfortable questions of his own later, and proceeded to usher the group out of the hatchery with his horn aglow.

"None of the little ones need to see this," he said as he led them to a hall adjacent to the hatchery. He sought Applejack's eyes as he asked, "You think I can tell the kids this?"

Applejack shrugged. "Just as long as ya don't scar them fer life," she said.

Armin nodded and turned to the Crusaders with a sigh. "Do you three know about war?"

Scootaloo nodded. "We were taught about the War of the Three Tribes, and how bloody that got before the Tribe Migration and the Founding of Equestria," she said. "We had to do a book report on it."

Applejack sagged her shoulders. "Yeah, Equestria ain't got the brightest history either…" she muttered. "Was surprised the Windigos didn't come sooner in that whole mess."

Armin nodded. "No country or city-state hardly does. The Aerie's no different," he agreed. His horn's aura expanded into a screen-like projection of sickly green, and within it formed an image of a shadowed pony with wings fully expanded, with legions of gryphons bowing down before them. The silhouette looked familiar to the Crusaders, but they could not pin a name to the pony. "Seven years ago, before the changelings and gryphons united, there was a hopelessly insane stallion who wanted to take over all of Fantasia."

The Crusaders began to take notes as Armin relayed the sordid tale. "He first sought control of the gryphons, then consisting of a myriad of tribes and clans. Using a strange magic that hadn't been seen since the Sealing of Godcat and Faust, he swayed them to his control with force and fear, the magic stronghoofing all into compliance."

"At first, many fought, and lost their lives trying to regain their freedom. But the stallion defeated the resistance, having them drawn and quartered for daring to defy him. With his victory secured, he sought about arming his new army for the gruesome crusade to follow." The image changed, to a fearsome tank with drills and a main cannon accompanied by miniguns. "Using magitek to quash all resistance, he started his conquests."

A map of Fantasia formed, a central large continent flanked by intercardinal continents and some islands off to the far side. Pieces fell onto the map like daggers of damnation, at first spreading from the center outwards and moving to cover the far south of the central continent. "The changelings, once made of individual hives, were backed into a corner as the gryphons dominated the land. They fought mightily, but love was depleted through the war, and so the last ten hives congregated together to think of a strategy in the face of extinction."

The image changed again, to a large hive even bigger than the Aerie, surrounded by blaster-wielding gryphons with glazed eyes baying for blood. "All attempts for ceasefire proved fruitless, for the gryphons wanted one thing and one thing alone: damnation of all who stood in their way. Alas, they had already succeeded with slaying the last few Kings and Queens that remained, and now sought the remnants of the fallen kingdoms to finish the gruesome job."

The Crusaders shuddered even as pencils scratched against paper, wondering how the changelings were able to survive their darkest hour. But then the image changed, to three silhouetted figures—one carrying a massive blade, one carrying a staff, and the smallest one carrying a sword and shield despite the evident lack of legs. "But then, as if to pierce through the darkness of death and destruction, our saviors came: a stallion clad in shadows, a mare with magical might of her own, and a legless cat with fire in his eyes."

"The gryphons scoffed at them as they moved to the top of the hive to challenge the flock. 'What do two ponies and a cat have to stop us with?' the flock cried foolishly, aware that the eyes of the surviving changelings were watching with rapt attention. The ponies didn't answer with words; their magic did the talking."

The Crusaders shuddered, gaping and wide-eyed as the image shifted to an animated piece showing off a rain of swords and other weapons bigger than even Canterlot and the mountain it stood on, piercing the earth deeply enough to cause magma to spill out. Each weapon was clad in shadow and crimson light strong enough to tint the piece, as fire rained from the skies to incinerate the gryphons that dodged the first volley.

It didn't show anything particularly gruesome, largely thanks to the size of the weapons—but the massive weapons kept coming, and coming, and coming in waves that kicked up clouds of ash and smoke as they impacted the earth again and again. The apocalypse blanketed everything outside of the hive, uprooting sparse vegetation and setting it ablaze in one cursed breath. Applejack silently gasped, the sound dying in her throat as her eyes were transfixed on the blades. Within the projection, the Crusaders could feel the terrified gazes of the changelings, all wondering what in Tartarus was going on.

And when it was all over, the swords and other large weapons dissipated into embers that didn't harm the world anymore than it had, but by then the land was pitted with scars and scorch marks and the blackened bones of the aggressors. Silence held for several seconds, and Armin spoke in a quiet voice, "None of the attacking flock remained, not one soul could flee to speak to the enemy of what had happened. When asked what they just did, the stallion answered: 'I have brought Ragnarok to your aggressors.' 'I turned flesh to ash with the flames of Hell itself,' said the mare. 'We have come to seek aid from you, for we cannot stop the army of gryphons and magitek alone. Will you help?'"

"It wasn't a question; the changelings joined their saviors, and the long, brutal Trials of Attrition began, each side struggling to overcome the other. This lasted for a year, with neither side gaining an advantage. Territories were gained, lost, then gained again, all at the expense of innumerable lives and an altered landscape. But as all hope seemed lost, there came a turning point."

The animated image shifted to a still piece, showing five silhouettes standing before three pieces of magitek that looked as though they could have been piloted. "Five gryphons, four of them wingless, came to the saviors and asked to join. With some hesitation, they were admitted. And they offered intel on the gryphons from which they had defected. They broke free of the magic that the rest of the gryphons were under, and asked only this: 'free them from that wicked spell.'"

"The intel was immensely helpful, and soon enough the changelings formed strategies to take back land and strike at the heart of the war: the insane stallion himself. Magitek was stolen, given to the changelings to increase the odds of success, and the four wingless gryphons proved invaluable with their pilotable magitek and the skills with which they decimated the enemy. At an abandoned facility, they had found the trump card: the Incineration Orbital Neutralization Cannon, or ION for short. The pilots hacked the controls and installed its commands into their magitek without delay."

"Several more battles were waged in which the ION Cannon being fired decided the tides of war. The enemy sent more and more advanced magitek to fight, but each one was felled with decisive strikes and precise firing of the Cannon. Some of the larger mechs required Ragnarok to be summoned, but progress was steadily gained. Soon enough, our forces reached the heart of the enemy's empire, where they mounted their last defense," Armin said, shuddering as he willed his magic to work on the projection once again.

The image shifted again, to a smouldering mountain surrounded on all sides by fighting changelings and gryphons, in the heart of which sat the tank and the silhouette of the insane stallion. At first he was alone, before he was then confronted by the changelings' saviors, all of whom had their weapons ready. "A long, vicious battle was waged on the Last Eve of Attrition, between the hopelessly insane stallion and the determined saviors. The tide barely turned in our favor when his tank was destroyed by the ION blast." The image showed the decimation of the tank from an angle, showing off another hail of mana-beams that came from the sky itself, and behind them a wicked gleam that seemed to have glowed all the way from space.

"Even then, the insane stallion fought to the last. His main weapons destroyed and stolen, he tried to cast his foul magic to turn the saviors against us. Alas, it proved futile, for the mare had counterspells already prepared for that eventuality. He was soundly defeated, subdued, and brought to heel. But even as the wicked spells he casted were reversed, the saviors found something odd: he, himself, was under that same magic."

"When pressed for why, he failed to answer, instead pleading for death. It didn't come, and instead he was rehabilitated. The changelings and gryphons joined forces to rebuild, grieving for those who were lost in the senseless bloodshed. It was decided that they would combine the might of hives and magitek into one, and through an agonizing two years, they were able to build the Aerie. Rehabilitation of the insane stallion was successful, and he was cautiously reintegrated into society, our saviors continuing to monitor him closely so he doesn't relapse back into his previous insanity," Armin concluded, frowning somberly as the image he conjured winked out and he let his horn stop glowing.

The Crusaders finished taking their notes, each sharing uneasy glances with each other. Several questions danced in their minds, before Scootaloo turned to Armin and voiced one of them, "So… who was the insane stallion?"

Armin sighed. "Well, kids…" He sat down and shook his head, "You're not gonna like this answer…" His wings buzzed, the noise slightly grating and uncomfortable before he made them stop. "It's Lance Boltwing himself."

The Crusaders immediately jotted that down, frowning as they wondered how he came upon the foul magic that controlled him. Sweetie was the one to ask, "Did he ever say anything about the magic?"

Armin shook his head. "Just that one day, he would deal with the source of it himself and slay it, like his insanity had been felled," he said. "But he confirmed it came from elsewhere, cast on him before he even came to the central continent."

Apple Bloom asked, "So is he okay now?"

Armin hesitantly nodded. "Yeah, it took a lot to teach him what he needed to be a proper general so he could do his damn job and all that, but he's fine now. Just… don't ask him about it, he hates talking about it," he replied, frown deepening somewhat. He turned to Applejack and added, "And yes, he will let us know when the source of that magic that was cast on him is… permanently dealt with." Applejack nodded, only a little satisfied with that even as she made a mental note to speak to Lance later for the sake of checking up on him.

"And that kind of magic is illegal, right? The kind that makes you act a certain way?" Sweetie pressed, garnering another nod from Armin.

"Extremely, at least in the Aerie and the areas it controls. In fact, that specific brand of magic carries harsh punishments here. But we haven't come across any practitioners of that magic to carry out those punishments on yet," Armin replied, shrugging his shoulders. "But I can tell you this: if we do find a practitioner of that brand of magic, it's not gonna be pretty for them."

Armin stood up and stretched. "And with that, I'm off to my next shift. Take care, kids," he said, trotting off with a wan smile forming on his face.

Scootaloo turned to Katie, who glanced back with wide orbs. "So… can we find Matt and Natalie and ask them some questions?" Scootaloo asked.

Katie tilted her head before nodding. "I guess we could do that. Though I think they're probably up at the higher floors this time of day… maybe," she said with a shrug. "Looks like we gotta find more directions, then."

"Well, what're we waiting for?" Sweetie asked, starting to grin in spite of the sordid tale she had received. "We got places to be, don't we?"

Katie nodded and turned to where another hole in the wall opened up. "That, we do," she agreed. With that, she led them into the hole-in-the-wall, taking note of the pheromones swirling about the cavernous mass. "So whatever do you need Cowpelt and Creamsicle for?" she asked.

Sweetie grinned. "I was wondering if it was possible for them to take pictures of the Aerie for our report, show that this place really does exist on Fantasia," she said. "We gotta go whole hog on the report; if we only go half-hog, we won't get the best grade."

Katie nodded again, idly turning that about in her head. "Well, that's assuming they do have the means to take pictures, but it's worth a shot," she agreed, wings buzzing a bit at the thought. "And we do need to do some touring of the Aerie at some point, so photographic references would be a good start." Through the hole they went, which stretched on for a good hundred yards or so. "Since I don't know the place that well, which part of the Aerie do you want to tour tomorrow?"

The Crusaders shrugged in unison. "What all do we have here?" Sweetie asked.

Katie shrugged back. "That's what I'm wondering, besides the hatchery," she said. "And the guest rooms, but those aren't mandatory for the report if I don't miss my guess." She lifted her head a bit as a bit of moss brushed up against her snout. "Maybe Cowpelt and Creamsicle have a better idea than I do."

"Y'think Anna might have some idea, too?" Applejack asked, grinning in bemusement.

"I'unno," Katie replied, her orbs almost audibly rolling in her voice. "And besides, where is she at this time of day?"

"Well, she might be able to help, too," Applejack pointed out.

Katie idly nodded. "True, true…" she agreed. "But we'll probably bug her tomorrow. Right now, she'll have a lot on her plate."

"Alrighty then," Applejack said with a snicker.

First Day, Evening—Uncomfortable Revelations

The sound of papers being signed and stamped filled a room drowning in so much paperwork, there was scarcely anything else. To one side sat a paper shredder, and next to it a pony-sized wastebin already stuffed to capacity. In the center stood a desk, where a legless blue cat sat using his tail to stamp things as a blond-maned, black-and-white pinto unicorn stallion read documents while a cream-colored red-maned unicorn mare did the sorting. Of course, both did the stamping as well, but it wasn't at record speed considering the landmass of parchment threatening to collapse on them at any given moment.

So caught up were they in their frenzy, they didn't notice anyone entering until they felt something cold pulling their tails using its teeth. Both turned to find a wraithling and the Crusaders at their hooves, and sighed. "Alright, what is it?" the stallion asked.

"These three," Katie began, using a hoof to gesture to the Crusaders, "want some pictures of the Aerie. Can you take the pictures, Matt and Natalie?"

Matt frowned, and set the form he had been reading down. "What sort of pictures?" he grumbled.

"Well, mostly outside views," Scootaloo replied, wings twitching as she resisted the urge to buzz them, lest her wingbeats knock down some documents. "If we want the full grade, we gotta have… um…"

"Photographic proof the Aerie is, indeed, real?" Katie proffered.

Scootaloo nodded. "Yeah, that."

The cat meowed, and set the form he had been about to stamp down, looking at the two grownups on either side of him. The mare shrugged as she looked at the cat, then Matt. "Well, if it lets us get out of catching up on paperwork for a few minutes, I'm down," Natalie said.

Matt nodded. "Sounds good, Natz," he agreed. He looked to the Crusaders again. "So how many pictures do you want?"

They shared glances amongst themselves before Apple Bloom piped up, "All of 'em. We want as many as we can cram into the report."

Sweetie grinned, pronking in place, "And some really good inside shots, too! And maybe a Fantasian map picture, so we can mark it there too!"

Matt grinned, his shorter-than-normal white horn lighting up with a golden aura. From a flash of light he conjured a camera, similar to a Mythonian make and model with some tweaks here and there. For starters, its buttons and knobs were hewn of glimmering crystals that seemed to react to his levitation; the reds turned a fiery orange and the blues melded into a cool green to contrast the steel of the camera. For another, it had some runes etched on it here and there, mostly tiny but still legible if one squinted at them. "Some outside and inside shots," he muttered. "What else?"

"Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh!!" Sweetie jumped up and down, being careful to not kick aside some papers. "Some shots of the many military wings here! And some airships! And maybe the surrounding landscape!" she said, starting to get a little giddy.

The cat meowed, and Matt turned to him. "You on board, NoLegs?" NoLegs nodded with a purr, seeming to be happy to put the paperwork aside for now. "Any of the wings of the Aerie in particular you want to have for the photoshoot?" Matt asked, turning to the mare. "We have a medical wing, a mess hall, the slime ranches… what about you?"

"Yeah, Natalie, what about you?" Katie chirped. "We have a training wing here, too, don't we? And the hatchery I just found out about."

Natalie sighed, grinning now. "Well, there's the greenhouse, the farmlands that are being constructed…" she muttered.

Apple Bloom twitched her ears. "But why would y'all wanna have farmlands?" she asked.

Natalie turned to her, her smile turning patient. "Well, changelings are omnivorous when not eating love, and we kinda need to eat our greens too," she said. "And we have some new ponies who'd rather be farming than fighting in wars, so it's for them too."

"And what about the slime ranches?" Scootaloo asked.

Matt snickered. "Well, around here, slimes are a source of endless love for changelings, and that gooey stuff they make their cocoons with. Our slimes are harmless, and pretty cuddly," he said, grin widening. "We just gotta feed them every so often and they'll be just fine. They eat their greens, too."

"And we do need to check up on the farmland construction anyway… looks like we just found the perfect excuse to get out of this stuffy office," Natalie said, her grin broadening now. She got up, and so did Matt. "Alright girls, we'll take the pictures. NoLegs will give you the best photos of the bunch, but we probably won't be done until at least sunset considering we'll be taking a lot of photos for you, and the Aerie is a big place." She lifted a hoof to ruffle Scootaloo's mane. "We'll start with the outside shots, since those will be easiest."

With that, Matt and Natalie trotted around the desk, through the piles of paper, and were out the door in moments. NoLegs lingered a bit to check the form Matt was reading, scanned it, stamped it with his tail, and set it aside for later. He teleported out when he was done, leaving the group of four to trot out the office the old-fashioned way.

Outside in the hall stood Applejack, grinning in amusement. "So I see y'all wrangled them out of their work," she said.

Katie shrugged and rolled her orbs as far as they could go. "Eh, they've been looking for excuses to be outside," she said. She perked her long ears and turned to the left of the hall, snickering as she saw Anna on one side of it with her eyes spinning in her sockets, and a wingless, blue, male gryphon with the lower body of a snow leopard opposite of her with his back to the wall and his beak wide open as his eyes tried to leave his head by corkscrewing. He wore a cravat on his neck, but it was currently frazzled like the bowl cut of his head-feathers.

"I didn't think they were in that big a hurry," the gryphon said, somewhat dazed. "Did the papers eat them again?"

Anna was faster to recover, blinking back to awareness and standing up straight as she realized what had just happened. She turned around and galloped off in that direction, shouting, "Godcat-damnit, Matt and Natz! Are you leaving me to finish the paper hoard by myself here?!"

"Yeesh, it looks like none of them want anything to do with this office," Applejack said, grin widening at this turn of events.

"I wouldn't, either. It's liable to eat ponies in there," Katie agreed, still snickering. She turned to the wingless gryphon as he got his limbs back under him and managed to make the world stop spinning his eyes. "Say, let's see if he can answer some questions." She pranced right over, and tapped his shoulder to get his attention. The Crusaders followed with pencils and notepads ready, eager to get some more out of this hapless sap. Applejack opted to stay by the sidelines and watch, just in case the children went too far with their prodding.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa there!" the gryphon called as the children gathered at his talons. He lifted one of them as if surrendering, eyes wide and beak slightly ajar. "What brought you here?"

"We just wanna ask some questions," Scootaloo asked. "Are you one of the wingless gryphons who defected during the Trials of Attrition?"

The gryphon sighed with a tired nod, head dropping in defeat. "And I thought the General didn't want us talking about that… note to self, find whoever shot their mouth off and wedge my paws up their rear…" he mumbled to himself before looking back at the Crusaders. "Yes, yes I am." He puffed his chest feathers as a genuine smile forced itself onto his face and his navy-grey eyes sparkled with warmth. "Blue Crow, at your service, young madams."

"So what do you do when you're not riding your magitek?" Apple Bloom asked. Blue Crow chuckled and patted her head. He noted, with some amusement, that the note-taking was already happening as they jotted down what he relayed to them, so he figured he could entertain them for a bit.

"Well, for instance, maintenance to keep things running smoothly, sometimes bugging the Lieutenant-Generals to no end to do their jobs, and other times acting as a scout. One of my tasks is to make sure that all magitek is up and running in the Aerie, but without wings it just takes me longer to get to where I need to be," he answered.

"So what do you use magitek for?" Sweetie Belle asked, grinning.

"Well, for cooking, flight, fighting, and even powering the Aerie." Blue Crow lifted a talon to gesture around them. "Practically for anything you can think of, really."

"And how do you power magitek?" Scootaloo pressed, wings buzzing. Blue Crow winced a little, and she asked, "What?"

"Well… it requires a lot of magic to power, and as much as we gryphons want to, we're… not the ones who charge it. Say…" He lifted his head, doing numbers in his brain before looking back at the Crusaders. "As much strength as I hear it takes your Princess to raise the sun, at least." He shrugged. "Fortunately, our Lieutenant-Generals and the General himself have enough to charge it and come out okay."

"Wait, they act as living batteries?" Sweetie Belle asked, tilting her head.

"Rechargeable ones, but yes," Blue Crow answered. "But the demonstration for that isn't pretty, so I'm afraid I can't ask them to show you how they do it. Besides, it's closely-guarded information anyway."

At that point, Applejack stepped in, using her hooves to round the four up. "Well, we got places to be and reports to finish. Thank ye for yer time, Blue Crow," she said, herding the four away before they could ask anymore questions. Blue Crow nodded and waved in a friendly manner as Applejack lead them elsewhere, waiting until he was alone in the hall before letting loose a string of expletives and running off to find whoever was stupid enough to shoot their mouth off.

~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~

Lunch, dinner, and dessert came and went, and in a shared room the Crusaders were compiling all they had learned that day into something that Cheerilee would read once it was done. Katie was in the room with them, occasionally chipping in with her two bits, but mostly keeping to herself otherwise. As they were discussing what to write and what to leave out of the report, the door opened, and in strode NoLegs sporting a cheeky grin on his face and a swath of pictures levitating behind him.

Sweetie grinned at the cat, and petted his head as she lit her horn and took the pictures from him. "Thank you, NoLegs," she said. NoLegs meowed, licked her snout, purred and went on his way. When the cat closed the door behind himself, Sweetie turned to look at the pictures, finding them to be surprisingly fully-colored. One showed the Aerie from outside, from ground level. It showed off the wide ring of steel hewn outside of the mountain with airships touched down on its surface, angled so it was right next to one of the support beams that anchored it up. The second had a top-down view, probably accessible only by airship. The third, from on top of that ring, showing off a city carved into the peak and billowing with steam from a myriad of exhaust pipes.

The fourth picture showed off that same city, from a mile away. It didn't have any gates or the like installed, nor any ports for any smaller airships to dock. It didn't have the cloud infrastructure either, but still had streets visible nonetheless, albeit with a few soldiers doing routine patrols. Amusingly, it showed off four cutie marks adorned on flags as well, hanging from rafters to act as a makeshift gate all its own. Perhaps it was done that way because the whole Fantasian military could fly, although the design choice still perplexed Sweetie nonetheless. This one, she passed around to her fellow Crusaders.

Apple Bloom tilted her head. "So they won't tell us how they got their marks, but they're willing to flash 'em in the city?" she asked, frowning in befuddlement. Scootaloo leaned over her shoulder and pointed to a red-white missile adorned with a manji.

"I think I saw that when we went to Cloudsdale with Lance using Cherry Berry's balloon," Scootaloo said, ears twitching. She turned to the wraithling, who presently idled about not too far away. "Do you know what his mark means?"

Katie turned her head and shrugged. "He said something about preferring peace, but preparing for war during the whole shebang in Greenwood. Couldn't wrangle much out of him beyond that, because we had more pressing matters at the time," she said. "Trust me, it was bad over there."

"So you can't tell us about that mess, either?" Sweetie Belle asked, frowning.

Katie nodded. "I would assume so, but I wasn't given any official orders to not say anything about it yet. Besides," she said, gesturing to herself, "if children die on Fantasia, and become undead like I did, what's that say about the rest of the planet?" The Crusaders shared looks, then looked back to the wraithling with slightly open mouths that shut as they considered the question. "Have you ever met any undead children back on Mythos?"

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo shook their heads, but Katie's brow slowly rose up her forehead as Apple Bloom somberly nodded. "You, hallway. We need to talk," she said. Apple Bloom obeyed, and the other two Crusaders watched her trot out the door.

"How long are you gonna keep her outside?" Sweetie asked, turning back to Katie.

Katie's brow furrowed. "Long enough to have her answer some questions. Should only be a few minutes, and whatever she has to share should not be going into the ears of you two," she answered, trotting out the door and elongating her tongue to grab the knob and close that door behind her.

Outside, a gryphon soldier with a crow's upper half mixed with a black jaguar's lower half did patrols. Katie turned to him and said, "Private chat between me and a guest here, Jeremy. You might want to be elsewhere." Jeremy nodded, grumbled to himself, but entered a random room and went out of sight. Once he was dealt with, Katie turned to Apple Bloom. "'Splain," she ordered.

Apple Bloom wilted, but figured now was the time to be honest. "Well, after the Nightmare Moon fiasco and Zecora moved in, me and Twi were heading out to the Everfree Forest to get some books from Zecora," she began. "Sun was setting, and Zecora warned us not to stay in the Everfree for too long. Well…" She looked around for a moment, then turned back to Katie unsuredly.

Katie lifted a bony hoof and gently patted Apple Bloom's withers with it. It was cold to the touch, but not in a way that felt menacing or anything of the sort. Rather, it was trying to pass off as warm and inviting, but simply missed the memo. "If you swear like I do, I won't tell Applejack on you," she said seriously. "I'm getting the feeling that whatever you saw may have given you the right to do so."

"Well, like a bucking idiot, I didn't stick close to Twi because I saw something weird. We tried leaving the forest, but a buncha fallen trees that weren't there before blocked the road, and… at first, I wasn't sure if my eyes was working right," Apple Bloom went on, ears twitching for any hint of a door creaking open. When she was met with silence, she paused, the oddly consoling cold hoof moving to stay on her withers.

"What did you see?" Katie asked, trying to keep her brow from furrowing more than it already had.

"Um… it was a filly. She looked normal enough when I saw 'er; she had a grey coat and an orange-yellow mane and tail with a magnifying glass cutie mark, but I couldn't see her eyes too good," Apple Bloom explained. "But like I said, I was a bucking idiot, so I followed her into a dark part of the forest. When I thought I was lost, I found a town in a clearing."

A town? In the Everfree? Last time Katie checked, it was full of timberbeasts and the magic that kept them animate, and ectoplasms that controlled its weather and liked to stray into Ponyville from time to time. And that could have been Fantasian bias and cynicism taking the wheel and doing the talking, but that sounded awfully suspicious already.

"It had ponies and houses kinda like Ponyville, 'cept smaller, but…" Apple Bloom sucked in a breath to steel herself as the memory came into focus. "But everypony in it was blank flanks. There was a party going on, too, but I didn't pay it a lot of attention."

"Blank flanks…" Katie muttered, unable to stop her brow from furrowing even deeper. "Did they not know what cutie marks were?"

"That's what I thought when I asked about it, too. And when I seen him, this one stallion gave me the chills, and I didn't know why. Come to think of it, everypony 'cept one was like that," Apple Bloom said, ears flopping down as she shuddered. "This stallion said his name was Grey Hoof, and he made the party happen. He told me not to wander off from the town."

"Did he give you a name for this hamlet?" Katie asked, ears twitching and wings snapping open. She stayed her hoof for the time being, but something told her that the hamlet was nothing but bad news.

Apple Bloom sighed. "Sunnytown. Which… is weird since the trees' leaves basically blocked the sun and moon," she said, eyes turning distant. "So I do some stuff at the party, find another pony's lost present for his fiance, and so far nothing's wrong. But that pony was in front of a house, and I had to check it out. Inside I find a crying mare." Apple Bloom turned to the wraithling. "Besides yer boniness and blue eyes and being a small changeling… ya look just like her."

Katie's wings buzzed and she couldn't keep a scowl from forming on her face any longer. Now alarm bells were ringing in her head. "Crying? At a party?" she asked, voice tinged with disbelief. Apple Bloom noticed that her hollow voice was echoing now, almost as if another copy of her had spoken in tandem.

Apple Bloom feverishly nodded. "She weren't much bigger than Applejack, I reckon. But she gave me a crank and told me something about everypony in Sunnytown deserving some kind of punishment. I didn't right know what she meant at the time, so I went to the back of the town to see if anything was there. There was a rickety house with a key tossed in a well, which I used the crank to get out. I opened the door, and there was no light…" Her eyes turned even more distant and haunted, as though she bore witness to horror.

Katie rubbed Apple Bloom's back wordlessly to prompt her to talk again. She didn't like what she heard next. "When I could see in the shadows, I saw it." Her voice grew more quiet with every word spoken, and trembled as she went on, "There was… a skeleton in the fireplace. It was burnt and… and… I thought I was seeing things. But when I touched the skeleton, I figured out I wasn't." She was shuddering as she took another breath to steel herself for what came next. "So I ran back into Sunnytown, 'cept… now, it was ruined, and dark. The houses fell apart, and at first I thought nopony was around."

"Then I hear a voice: 'she had the mark, she had to go.' And then… coming up outta the ground was a zombie. But it didn't look like any zombie I heard about: red lights came out the rib cage and skull, and… it looked evil. Before I know it, I'm hauling my tail outta there, and more and more zombies come to try and stop me. But that crying mare from before stopped half of them by herself, and told me to run."

"I get lost again, and see glowing hoof prints. I followed them to find the filly from before, except I see her eyes: all orange, and glowing. She said her name was Ruby, that she got her cutie mark because she was good at finding things, and she promised to find a way out for me before the zombies could get to me. I get sent back near the road that was blocked, and Twi finds me, and we head home," Apple Bloom concluded.

Katie's stomach churned, and a feeling that there was more to this story settled in it. "Did you try telling anyone else what happened?" she asked.

Apple Bloom turned to the wraithling again, eyes widening. "I did, but nopony 'cept Zecora believed me," she replied, lifting her hooves to put them on her military escort's shoulders. "Which is why I freaked when I saw ya; I thought you were one of them."

Katie shook her head. "Those Sunnytowners sound vile on a level I wouldn't approach," she said, her voice echoing more as anger leaked into it. "Something tells me their whole town is rotten." Before she could speak further, a door a few paces down opened, and out stepped a zebra with golden earrings and a tribal iteration of a sun on her flank. Katie turned to the zebra, then back to Apple Bloom. "Work on your project some more; I need to ask Zecora some questions," she said.

Apple Bloom nodded again, broke from the wraithling's grip, opened the door, and went into the room. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were as she left them, though both were looking worriedly at her as she returned to the group. "So, we kinda heard everything…" Scootaloo muttered, rubbing the back of her head awkwardly. "And we won't tell Applejack you swore, either."

"Yeah, but… zombies," Sweetie said, ears flopping down. "Until today, I wouldn't have taken it seriously either." She and Scootaloo moved to give Apple Bloom a group hug, which she immediately reciprocated. "I'm sorry I didn't take you seriously when you tried telling us that story."

"Same," Scootaloo added with a sigh. "I shouldn't have thought you were crazy when you were telling us, Apple Bloom."

"It's okay, girls," Apple Bloom said, squeezing her friends. "I thought I was going crazy when I remembered it was real." They broke apart with a unanimous sigh. "But it sounds like the wraith's fixing to do something about it."

Scootaloo frowned. "How can she? She's just one changeling, even if she is undead," she pointed out.

Apple Bloom shrugged. "Maybe she might have the rest of the military here back her up, or she could just go to Celestia or something," she replied. "Anyway, what have you two decided to leave out the report so far?"

"Well… we haven't gotten to that part yet," Scootaloo answered, wings buzzing as she spoke. "We're still writing everything down."

Apple Bloom nodded with a sigh. "Alright, let's finish that first and then figure out what we need to leave out," she said. She grabbed a picture from the stack and grinned. "Hey girls, check this out." She passed the picture around, garnering grins from her fellow Crusaders.

"Is that the slime ranch?" Scootaloo asked, seeing a photo of a gate that was taken deep in the Aerie, looking a little old-fashioned and out of place. In fact, it had bricks and mortar and wood forming its body, like something that would come out of the Acres or Appleloosa. Written on the arc of the gate were the words "Ye Olde Slime Ranch," complete with a changeling in a farmer's garb posing next to the gate with a rake in hoof.

Sweetie levitated the stack of photos and sifted through them, grin widening. "Oh sweet, we got good shots of the slimes!" she said, passing more photos around. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo took a hoofful of three pictures each, and giggled. There were enclosures, and some housed vegetables. Others housed small and large slimes of varying types, and amusingly enough some of them looked like they'd been crossbred with tabby cats. The larger slimes had smaller orbiting slimes surrounding them, and all had adorably goofy faces. There were several types of enclosures for varying types, and one shot even had a slime with vegetables composing half its body eating a whole platter of more greenery.

The Crusaders looked at each other, grinning in unison. "So wanna hit the slime ranch tomorrow, see if we can get our slime rancher cutie marks?" Scootaloo asked.

"Yeah, I do!" Sweetie answered.

The three lifted their free hooves and clapped them together with a cry of "Cutie Mark Crusaders Slime Ranchers, yay!"

Second Day, Morning—Ensemble

Breakfast proceeded as it had the day before, although this time the Crusaders found themselves sharing the table with their wraithling escort, who was busy helping herself to a large insect with a butterfly's black body and giant purple wings and eyes. They had finished their food, and watched her chow down on the insect that was bigger than she was. She took out whole chunks, chewed, and swallowed with gusto. Amusingly, her face sported a green mask anchored mostly to her split mouth, which was opaque and did a decent job of keeping the food in those jaws.

Some of the other soldiers were watching as well. Blue Crow came over to sit at the table, frowning a little. "Goodness, I didn't think she could pack away as much as she's done," he noted, seeing Katie's belly slowly expand to house the food. "Already ate half the wasp and she's still going."

Sweetie Belle turned to Blue Crow, eyes wide. "That's a wasp?" She turned to the half-devoured insect and added, "That looks more like a butterfly to me."

"Trust me, that's a wasp. At this rate, she's headed for a food coma," Blue Crow muttered, shaking his head at the sight.

It took a few moments more for Katie to finish the wasp completely, down to its wings and even the stinger, but she cleaned her plate, leaned back, and let loose a loud belch that had some soldiers laughing. "'Scuse me," she said, taking another moment to lick her lips clean. Her wings snapped open and buzzed, then closed again.

"Are you sure you can walk? You look like you might need to be rolled," Blue Crow said, grinning.

Katie waved him off with a hoof. "I'll be fine; I could tell the wasp had love in it, and it'll help me digest," she replied. "This ain't the first time I've ballooned out like this."

Blue Crow sighed and buried his face in one of his talons. "Alright, suit yourself…" he grumbled under his breath.

A burst of green light flashed next to the table, and as it vanished it revealed Anna. She trotted over to poke the wraithling in the gut, enabling the Crusaders to take a better look at the sanded smooth wood on her legs. Come to think of it, they began wondering what kind of plants had wrapped themselves around the wood, and why they were there to begin with.. "Yep, that's a full gut alright. Do you want me to take over for the day?"

Katie looked to the ceiling, then shrugged. "If I get sick, then yeah," she said. "But you should be just on standby in case that happens." She gestured to the Crusaders. "As fat as I am right now? I don't think I could wrangle those three hooligans for a few hours."

That got a snort out of Anna, and a roll of the eyes. "Alrighty then," she muttered.

"So are you a timberpony? Like in those stories where they transform under a full moon?" Scootaloo asked.

Anna turned to her and bobbed her head, not quite nodding, but not quite shaking her head either. "Well… this is more of a permanent thing, and I don't transform under a full moon… so I'd say yes," she said after a moment. She glanced upwards towards one of the booths for a moment, as if seeking answers from elsewhere. The Crusaders looked up in that direction as well, finding Lance slowly nodding back. Anna brought her eyes back to the trio's level and added, "Technically, I'm also cursed… but what can you do?"

"So what's with that alphabet thing on your body? Is that another language?" Apple Bloom asked, causing many of the soldiers to start side-eyeing her. She noticed the extra attention she was receiving through that question alone. "What?"

Anna sighed. "Yes. It's another language, and because we don't know what group of sentients coined it first, we just call it 'ancient alicorn' for convenience's sake," she answered, causing the soldiers who began the side-eyeing to relax and return to their meals.

Sweetie Belle gestured to the group of green-maned ponies who sat at their own table. They seemed to be sulking still. "What's with them?" she asked,

Anna's eyes averted to the group for a moment, but she didn't move her head to look at the lot. "Oh, those guys…" She huffed and snorted, "Those guys are from Greenwood. They're… getting used to everything here, especially the 'how we're run' part of things," she said, though the girls got the impression there was a lot more to that story that she was leaving out, probably for their sake.

"It was a mess when we found them, and devolved into absolute insanity," Katie said, waving a hoof at the ponies of Greenwood. "You'd have thought Discord had a paw in it, but surprisingly, he didn't for once. He may have watched the fiasco with popcorn, though."

Anna propped her chin on her wood-covered pasterns, her elbow resting on the table with almost feline flexibility. "I wouldn't doubt that he would," she said with a shrug. It was at that moment that a golden-furred teddy bear with a ribbon on its neck climbed up Anna's tail, scaled her back, and moved to stand on her head. She looked at the bear cross-eyed. "Whatcha want, Mr. Muffin?"

Mr. Muffin hopped onto the table and meandered over to the Crusaders, crossing his arms and looking them up and down. "Wait, he can walk?" Scootaloo asked, turning to Anna.

Anna nodded, smiling faintly. "He could, ever since I was a baby. Rarity fixed him up recently, and found his enchantments still work," she said, eyes gleaming as she seemed to reminisce on better days.

Scootaloo turned to Mr. Muffin, grinning wide as she reached over to pick him up. "That's so cool!" she said, making sure to be careful just in case Mr. Muffin was sentient somehow. The plush just looked at her strangely, but then waved at the table with one of his arms. She set him down right away, and he cocked his head. "But… why would you want to enchant a teddy bear to walk?"

"Lots of reasons; protecting the kids, playing with them, helping with chores…" Anna smiled and flexed the digits on her other claw, and Mr. Muffin took the hint and waddled back to her. "He's an awesome bear."

Blue Crow smirked. "Protection?" he asked, evidently imagining a teddy bear trying to protect kids with household gadgets. "How would that work?"

Anna patted Mr. Muffin with her free claw, giggling. "Well, he's quite the crafty one; you give him something sharp, he'll take care of the rest," she said. She turned to the Crusaders and added, "But he shouldn't harm you guys; he knows you mean well." Mr. Muffin puffed his chest like he was huffing, and brought the ends of his arms to his hips as he looked at Anna. She looked back with, "What?" He lifted an arm to point at the Crusaders and waved it emphatically.

"They'll be safe here. We'll keep an eye on them to make sure they don't get hurt," Anna said. Mr. Muffin put his arms down and nodded, slumping his shoulders. Then he looked to the wraithling, lifted an arm and swung its end back and forth in front of his little beady eyes. Katie laughed and buzzed her wings, reaching over to pat the bear on the head.

"Sorry little dude, but I don't pick on creatures smaller than me," Katie said, her grin evident in her voice. "You'd have better luck proposing to Angel bunny than fighting me." Somewhere, the Crusaders heard a rabbit screaming in what they could only assume was embarrassment, and giggled as Mr. Muffin lifted his arm in front of him diagonally as he flinched back. If his little beady eyes could widen, they would have done so in that moment.

Some of the soldiers snickered, and the Crusaders couldn't help but giggle. Anna picked the bear up in her claw and brought him to her chest, lifting her chin so she could pet him with the other one. She looked at him fondly and said, "Oh don't worry about her, she's weird for certain, but she won't bite if she can help it." Mr. Muffin crossed his arms in a pout, and probably would have grumbled if he had the capacity for speech.

Fluttershy trotted over, smiling faintly as Angel bunny sat on her head with his face buried in his paws and Owlowiscious on her back, snickering into his wing. "I can help, if that's okay with you," she said, her face beaming with warmth as Harry the bear walked up behind her with a grin.

"That would be much appreciated," Katie chirped, wings buzzing again. She glanced at Angel and added, "By the way, how's he holding up?"

Fluttershy giggled and glanced up at Angel. "Aside from shock, he's doing fairly well," she said, still smiling. Angel grumbled something in rabbit-tongue, and Fluttershy shook her head. "Now now, we don't use bad words like that, Angel," she said in a somewhat reprimanding tone, causing the rabbit to slump his shoulders in defeat.

"Eh, we don't mind the potty mouths," Anna said, taking a moment to put Mr. Muffin on her head. "We get them all the time here."

Blue Crow sighed as he stood up on his paws, stretching his talons over his head and interlocking them together to pop the digits. "Well, I better go back to my table before Red Barrel decides she wants to make me eat cucumbers again," he said. With that, he went elsewhere in the mess hall, making some of the other soldiers snicker again.

"What are they laughing about?" Scootaloo asked, turning to Katie.

Katie shrugged, then belched again. "Probably an adult euphemism," she muttered. She turned to the Crusaders. "So, have you decided to check anything in particular out today?"

Sweetie Belle nodded. "We've decided on the slime ranch; that looks cool," she answered.

Katie's ears twitched. "Oh? That's… huh." She furrowed her brow for a moment. "I was expecting the medical wings or something like that, but…" She tilted her head. "Eh, kids'll be kids. I should know better than to question it."

Apple Bloom frowned. "You didn't have a good childhood, didja?" she asked.

Katie shook her head. "I was largely ignored by the hive I belonged to. Made fun of because I was different when my existence wasn't being sidelined, and only fed purple wasps to keep me quiet," she said with a shrug. "It happened to every mutant of the hive. Until the hive fell, it was pretty much that whole song and dance all day, every day, since the second I hatched." She looked at the Crusaders, with an emotion they couldn't place shining in her orbs. "Come to think of it, they were like that to everyone who was not of the hive, either. Maybe it's better that they're gone."

Scootaloo shared glances with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, then looked back to the wraithling. "Could you shapeshift back then?" she asked.

Katie shook her head. "Before my horn was broken, no. I never picked up on it," she answered. "Didn't have a grasp of fire magic either, or… any of the other kinds of magic that was paraded as the be-all, end-all of changeling society back then." She lowered her head a little bit, as if ashamed. "I wasn't considered of any use to the hive."

A green-eyed changeling trotted over to pat her on her withers. "Hey, kid," he said, causing Katie to look at him. "You have a home here; it doesn't matter that you can't shapeshift or that your powers are more ice-based than the rest of us." He donned a warm smile and knelt to her eye level, gripping her withers gently. "You're just as good a changeling as the rest of us here. We don't play favorites depending on who can do what."

"Besides, if Lance decides you got the talent to be here, we can't fault his judgement anyway," the changeling went on, moving to ruffle Katie's stringy mane, being careful to avoid her broken horn.

"Yeah, we heard about what you managed to pull off in Greenwood from Lieutenant-General Windwood herself," another chirped with a smile. "That takes serious guts to pull off, kiddo." That one glanced to Lance to see if it was safe for her to continue, and when she saw his cautious nod, she added, "Not to mention that draining hate and despair is immensely useful, not only because it's something none of us can do, but it seems to help heal the land wherever you do it."

"But I thought the Elements of Harmony did that," Katie protested, wings shining faintly as confusion twinkled in her orbs.

"Yeah, but they seemed to have been strengthened by the lack of hatred and despair," the cautious changeling countered, smiling. That seemed to have gotten a small nod from Fluttershy. "I'd wager they can't function as well in those kinds of areas; one of their policies literally is Kindness, and despair and hatred are pretty much anathema to it."

The other changelings muttered in agreement, making sure to be just loud enough that Katie couldn't misconstrue them. Some of them even praised her for actually making it into the army to begin with, with nothing more to show for it than the fact that she was alive from her first foray.

Katie shuddered a bit, unsure of how to take this as her orbs sparkled in confusion. "I… uh…" She felt a few of her innards squirming, but not in discomfort—rather, something about the praise seemed to make her feel… fuzzy? She couldn't place the emotion, nor any names to what she was experiencing. In fact, it seemed to help her keep the food down, too.

Anna giggled, and reached over to pat her head too. Mr. Muffin waved one of his arms in a friendly greeting, though Katie had the feeling she might actually spar with the animated plush later, as weird as that thought sounded the moment it entered her head.

The Crusaders grinned, ideas spinning in their own heads as they shared glances. Perhaps the slime ranch would work more wonders than just their cutie marks yet. "And hey, if Granny Smith decided she likes ya enough to help us sort apples, she musta seen something in ya too," Apple Bloom added with a grin. "Not to mention it would be kinda cool to have a wraith fer a friend. I reckon that if everypony in Ponyville stopped losing their minds for a minute, they might want ya for a friend too."

Katie rubbed the back of her head as she turned to Apple Bloom, orbs sparking in confusion. Her mouth moved, but no words came out. She felt touched, and unsure of how to answer. Apple Bloom reached over to hug her, and hesitantly, she returned it. She felt more of that warm energy, and the emotion she couldn't place, soothing some of her lingering worries about this whole she-ding. The two parted, and turned to Anna as she snorted.

"That is, if everypony in Ponyville stopped losing their marbles for a minute," Anna piped up, smirking.

"Pretty big 'if,' since they were still raising a ruckus the last time I checked," Scootaloo said with a shrug. "Although… they've been less talkative about it lately."

"Saw no use in bitching about it anymore?" Anna asked. The Crusaders shook their heads, and she relaxed a little. "Alright, guess that means they're chill now… although I wonder about how many useless adults are in Ponyville…"

"Useless adults?" Apple Bloom asked. Anna nodded.

"How many just spend their days talking out their asses, spreading false rumors about other ponies and the like, without actually going to do anything about what's making them angry," Anna said. That made the Crusaders share looks. "I take it you know a few?"

Scootaloo turned back with a nod. "Oh yeah. Ponyville's head of the school board would count even if she weren't loaded with bits," she said with a frown. "I wonder why more ponies aren't treating her like a nutcase."

Anna shrugged. "Well, I don't have a lot to go on there, so I wish I knew." Still, she seemed to be making a mental note to not send any future foals of hers to Ponyville's school, lest she end up doing terrible things to the head of the school board there. A thought hit her, and she turned to Sweetie Belle and asked, "Oh yeah, and speaking about useless adults, what about that foalsitter Natz told me about? How do you think she's taking it?"

Sweetie Belle shrugged. "As long as she's out of my mane, I'm good," she said. "Rarity looked like she might turn her into a pincushion."

Anna barked out a laugh, grin widening. "If she does, have her hit me up first. I know of ways to turn ponies into pincushions," she chirped. The Crusaders started to pity the erstwhile foalsitter, and a feeling she might not make it out of that discussion alive set in. Anna rolled her eyes and added, "Oh don't worry, she'll be alive and intact… mostly. I'd be happy to give her something to really bitch about, though."

~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~

Discord was smirking, giddy and chuckling as he wormed his way into Parliament's little box in Canterlot Castle, a squirming burlap sack held in a tightly-enclosed paw by its mouth. Within, obscenities only he could hear were being shouted into the uncaring void. He was whistling a jaunty little tune, and the guards merely side-eyed him as he approached the doors and threw them open.

Inside, several nobles who were arguing amongst themselves turned to him, scowling at the interruption to their proceedings. He sought the gazes of Equestria's Princesses, who looked ragged and tired, with bloodshot eyes and wing feathers askew. "I just wanted to lighten the mood in here, do feel free to judge this prude however you want," he said, throwing the bag onto the floor before the podium where they sat. The bag vanished, and he teleported in a puff of confetti to reveal one confused, wide-eyed Stern Lecture looking up to find herself before the Princesses of the land.

The nobles turned to Stern Lecture, wondering why Discord dragged her in a burlap sack to begin with. Stern Lecture seemed perplexed at first, before her eyes widened. "I… I would like to report a foalnapping," she began, waving to where Discord was. "This… goat thing has taken Sweetie Belle to who knows where, and I would also like to report that I was foalnapped and brought here against my will."

Princess Luna found her voice. "I… we can see that," she said. "Anything else?"

Stern Lecture puffed her chest, courage welling up within. "I would also like to report Sweetie Belle herself: I have tried everything I possibly could to get her to obey and be a decent mare. But she won't do it; no stallion would ever want a mare like her. I know you seem busy, but this is of the utmost importance!" The unscrupulous nobles sneered at this, and the few decent members only shook their heads in pity.

The Princesses shared glances. "Isn't that Rarity's little sister?" Celestia whispered, to which Luna nodded. Both turned to Stern Lecture, their faces grim. "And how did you come upon Sweetie Belle to begin with?" Celestia asked, somewhat grateful for the brief break of the Parliamentary monotony that Discord had brought her, even if the case wasn't as clear-cut as she would have liked.

"Her parents entrusted me to foalsit her," Stern Lecture replied, her courage becoming too daunting for normal, not-so-dense ponies to handle. "Princess Celestia, I beseech you: find Sweetie Belle, and tell her that all she needs to succeed in life are a good stallion and her own personal kitchen!"

Celestia's face darkened. Her horn started to glow. "If that is what you so desire…" she said ominously. She glanced up as the doors opened again, and this time found a royal guard juggling no less than half a dozen stacks of papers, with a rather harried and unnerved look on his face. "Speak," she ordered, her horn dimming.

The guard bowed. "Your Majesty, disturbing reports of a foal-trafficking ring have emerged from the cities of Vanhoover, Manehattan, and Las Pegasus," he began, shuffling through the papers. A foal-trafficking ring, spanning at least three cities? That got the nobles to mutter amongst themselves.

"Has it been dealt with?" Luna asked, her own face darkening slightly.

The guard nodded. "We are looking into it as we speak… reportedly, the foals are being taken to a supposed correctional facility that was supposed to have been shut down a hundred years ago," he said, straightening his posture. He looked up to meet his Princess's gaze and added, "And recently, reports have come up concerning one of the potential foal-smugglers, an elderly unicorn mare who went under several aliases."

Stern Lecture paled, just a little. "Well, I do hope the foals can be found and returned to their families," she said with just enough concern to convince some of the dumber nobles, but not enough for Celestia's liking. The trio of alicorns looked at her with alarm bells ringing in their heads. "After all, trafficking is a serious crime…"

The guard turned to Stern Lecture, frowning a bit as he took her in. "Wait a minute…" He trotted up to her, and then around her to take in her features. "You look just like the elderly unicorn in the reports I have received… and what's strange is, all the reports detailed a pony without a cutie mark…"

Celestia stood up, wings snapping open. "I'd like to see those reports myself, please…" The guard nodded, and hefted one to her. A quick scan confirmed the gruesome suspicions, which only served to sour her mood. The nobles took heed of her darkening expression and silenced themselves, turning to watch the proceedings as the fireworks unfolded. Another scan of the paper by Luna had her making the same motions as well, and the same held true for Cadence.

A flurry of papers later, each one detailing frighteningly similar details, was all it took for Celestia to look at Stern Lecture with damnation in her eyes. Cadence and Luna held darkened expressions as well, promising suffering after they had a look-see at the reports to confirm their own suspicions. "We do not tolerate foal-traffickers in Equestria…" Celestia muttered darkly. Her horn blazed brightly now, and Stern Lecture found herself paling and sweating nervously.

"I am not a foal-trafficker! I-I merely relocate my charges so they can undertake the needed lessons in life!" Stern Lecture uttered out, but not only was it too little too late, but that may have ended up accelerating her damnation.

"We'll take that…" Luna began, horn flashing, "as a confession. Tell us all you know, and who you know, so we can dismantle the trafficking ring."

~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~

It was an hour later, and the Crusaders were contemplating whether or not to talk to everyone else in the mess hall before heading for the slime ranch, when a plaid and lightning portal opened up for a few seconds, and a pony with her mane smoking in places fell through to land unceremoniously in the floor snout-first. She landed with a sickening crack that made everyone wince and turn in that direction.

Sweetie Belle made a noise that sounded like euch, with one eye widening, the other narrowing, and her tongue sticking out as the sound left her mouth. Anna conjured a stone and crystal arrow, gripped it in her claw, put Mr. Muffin on the table, and went over to gently poke the smoking pony on the shoulder with its fletching. Katie turned to Sweetie Belle and gestured at the scene. "Is that…"

Sweetie Belle nodded. "The foalsitter Mom and Dad thought was good enough to watch me," she hissed. Anna's ears twitched as she caught it, and the young Lieutenant-General whirled around to face the highest booth where Lance sat.

"What should we do with the foalsitter?" Anna asked. Lance spread his wings, jumped from the booth, and flew over, hovering to ensure he wouldn't hit anyone with wingbeats large enough to effectively rival Celestia for a stallion just a half-head shorter than Shining Armor. He wobbled and tilted for a bit, legs flailing for a moment, before he got himself back under control.

"Wow," the Crusaders chorused as they watched him hover.

"Those wings are so cool! And huge! Not as awesome as Rainbow's, but still cool in their own right!" Scootaloo said in a high-pitched squeal, earning chuckles from the other two. Katie idly nodded.

"May as well have traffic lights stapled to them, like what Mom and Dad are probably seeing in Manehattan," Sweetie Belle muttered, somewhat impressed but nowhere near as Scootaloo was. Still, she was smiling. "At least he can fly again."

"How does he manage them things? He might as well be part dragon," Apple Bloom piped up, her head cocked as she tried to rationalize to herself how such large wings could be used so effectively. Though, at least she had to admit to herself that Lance stayed out of feather-tickling range. Those things were liable to make ponies sneeze if he teased their noses enough with them.

Stern Lecture hadn't moved, but she did let off a muffled groan that indicated she was still among the living. Everyone traded looks, wondering who she had upset and how to have been launched all the way here. Everyone waited for the moment she would rise, and eventually, Stern Lecture figured out her legs weren't broken and made to stand rather wobbly on the unfamiliar ground. The Crusaders winced when they saw her snout was now a little bit crooked, and bleeding a little. Katie winced too, making a noise of discomfort.

"Wh… where am I?" Stern Lecture groaned, lifting a hoof to rub her head. Her legs wobbled, and she set the hoof down to balance herself out. She looked around, seeing changelings and gryphons everywhere. "Oh damn it all, first I beseech the Princesses, and now I'm stuck with carnivorous halfbeasts and filthy frumptious insects?!" she yelled, the utterance alone making every gryphon and changeling scowl in her direction. She spotted Anna, and frowned as she took in her features. "Figures I'd run into a foul timberbeast here too… tell me, false unicorn, where I am and how to leave this disgusting place."

Anna made her arrow vanish in a burst of viridian light. "You're in the Fantasian city-state of Irongrey Aerie," she said, frowning. "As for how to leave… well, we'd be more than happy to show you the door—"

Stern Lecture donned a sickly smile. "Excellent; perhaps I can be in the company of proper—"

"—except the door is on the top of the mountain, and if you don't put a can on the racism, you're going to go splat on the bottom," Anna finished, her frown morphing into a scowl.

Apple Bloom leaned over to whisper to Katie. "They don't like racists here?" Katie shook her head to answer.

Stern Lecture noticed the sound of wings beating, and looked up to find Lance hovering above her. "Oh look, a feather duster," she spat, glaring at Lance. Her denseness was such that she didn't falter when Lance glared right back, his crimson eyes promising to lay on the hurt no matter how old she was. "Why don't you go back to the weather factories, like your kind belongs," she continued. She lit her horn, magically hefted up Blue Crow, who then squawked as she threw him bodily towards Lance. Lance caught the poor sap and shook his head, seeming unfazed about having one of his own soldiers being sent flying in his direction.

Lance smirked, and let Blue Crow hop back down with nothing more than a slight wobble. "We don't have weather factories in Fantasia," he said, eyes gleaming. "But we have just the place for racists like you." He pointed a hoof at her. "Take her to the Iron Hold." Two changeling soldiers nodded, and moved to hoist Stern Lecture by her front hooves. Her horn glowed, and she used her magic to shove the soldiers away. Their horns glowed in turn, and a thick green slime quickly wrapped itself around her in a viscous gooey cocoon that hardened into a gelatinous state in seconds and immobilized her in a flash.

Stern Lecture's eyes widened, and she looked about, trying to seek help from any source. Her eyes locked with Sweetie Belle's, and she scowled and started to thrash in her limited bonds. "You petulant little brat! When I get out of here, I'll take you to a more proper learning facility, where you'll be taught the things that all decent mares should have learned when they started speaking!" she yelled, albeit somewhat muffled by her prison.

Natalie called to the two soldiers as they hefted the thrashing cocoon up in their magic, "Oh yeah, and let Rarity pay a visit to her at some point! She expressed a desire to throttle the nasty foalsitter, and we're not gonna deny an angry big sister that honor!" The soldiers nodded, and proceeded to escort the struggling Stern Lecture out of the mess hall and everyone's sight.

"A 'more proper' learning facility?" Anna scoffed once Stern Lecture was shown the door. She turned to Lance, who descended where the smoking mare stood and landed. "Did I hear her correctly?"

Lance nodded, and turned to Anna with a firm frown. "You did, you did…" he muttered. "We might have something for Celestia to look into, if only to get the nobles out of her mane for a bit."

Another plaid-lightning portal opened up, and Discord popped his head in with a grin. "Already beat you to that punch; it's being investigated as we speak," he said coyly. "And Celestia is personally spear-headding the operation. The nobles can fuss all they want, but even they can't stonewall the Princesses forever." With that, he withdrew his head, and the portal shut behind him.

Lance turned to Anna, who looked at him and shrugged. Both then looked to Sweetie Belle, and Anna asked, "Did the foalsitter mention anything about a facility of some kind to you?"

Sweetie Belle glumly nodded. "She said she was gonna ship me there if I wasn't going to follow her lessons on the first day of being foalsat, like all the other foals she foalsat before me," she said, frowning.

"And what did that facility entail?" Lance questioned, torn ears twitching.

At that moment, Rarity trotted over, an eye twitching as a scowl set onto her face. She went around the table and directly to Lance, tail lashing by the tiniest ladylike increments that were physically possible. "Well… let's just say she would have most definitely been horribly abused there, had the foalsitter actually gone through with the threat," she said bluntly. "She had the audacity to tell my little sister some horrid things going on over there at the facility in question, as though being scarred for life wasn't a big deal. As it stands, I'm going to chew our parents out for picking that unladylike wretch for an extended period of time."

Lance nodded. "If you need someone to take you to the Iron Hold, we can arrange that," he said, turning to where Stern Lecture had been dragged out. "Given how things are looking, though… I'm starting to think she was banished from Equestria for something very bad."

"Good," Rarity hissed.

"What's the Iron Hold?" Apple Bloom asked. Katie turned to her and sighed.

"That sounds like Irongrey's prison district… and a place we're better off not visiting," she said bluntly. She shook her head and jerked her horn in the direction that Stern Lecture was carted off to. "I'm not sure Lance will even let us visit the Hold anyway." She patted her stomach and added, "Don't want to lose breakfast, do we?" At the trio's unified headshake, she relaxed a little. "Well, good thing the foalsitter's been dealt with, because from what little I heard, I've already got some… choice words for her. And maybe some sharp pointy things."

"Fantasians don't play nice when they're mad, do they?" Scootaloo asked.

Katie shook her head. "When we play ball, we are not gentle. Though how… rough we get depends on how mad we are, what we get mad at, and who started the whole thing to begin with," she answered. "Let's just say the town of Greenwood got—" At that moment, Anna came over to shove a sanded claw into her mouth.

Anna looked to the Crusaders, a rather strained smile emerging on her face. One of her veins, which the Crusaders noted was oddly darkened and showing through her fur already along with several of its fellows, bulged slightly on her forehead. "Let's stop talking about that town now," she said, the corner of her lip twitching as she gave the order. When Katie gave a nod and a muffled grunt of understanding, the sanded claw was removed from her mouth.

Mr. Muffin looked at the Crusaders, and they looked at him. Both parties just shrugged at each other over this turn of events.

Second Day, Afternoon—Ranch Samples

Once the notepads and pencils were retrieved, and the digestion went underway for Katie to slim back down to her usual size, the trio proceeded on to the slime ranch with Anna accompanying them. They had considered trying for their cutie marks, but had to shelve the idea when they realized that a Lieutenant-General was accompanying them, and she would probably take no nonsense on that front as per her rank. Anna wasn't particularly upbeat today, but she did try to answer the questions of the Crusaders to the best of her abilities.

"So why do the slimes have vegetables and tails and everything else like that?" Sweetie asked.

Anna shrugged. "Well, there's multiple variants, all built for certain environments. Ice slimes like cold places, fire slimes like it burning hot, electrical slimes prefer barren wastelands with lots of lightning, and the vegetable and tabby slimes prefer forests. There's also sand slimes, and they prefer deserts and beaches, along with water slimes… then there's the toxic waste slimes, which we do not house as a matter of principle and another matter of safety. Honestly, I'm not sure where slimes came from," she said.

"And why do you keep them, besides feeding the changelings with love?" Scootaloo asked.

Anna turned her head to give Scootaloo a grin. "Well… we're studying them, actually, so we can get to know them better. They also willingly give us pieces of themselves, so we can use them for varying applications," she said as she lead them under the gate of the slime ranch. "Ice cream, restorative potions, enchanting materials…"

"Enchanting materials? Like, complex spells?" Apple Bloom asked.

Anna nodded. "Sometimes complex enough to require binding spell circles," she confirmed. "But the slimes regenerate, and as long as we don't kill them, they're an infinite resource."

"Kill?" Sweetie asked, frowning a little.

"Well…" Anna slumped a bit. "With a slime, it's kinda subjective. Eventually it'll reform and resume its usual slime routine after… I don't know, a few weeks to a few months, depending on the breed. They're functionally immortal. Wouldn't be surprised if Godcat and Faust had a magical accident that lead to the slimes' birth."

The slime ranch was expansive, at least the size of a large stadium with arches leading to possibly more. Sunlight filtered in from holes in the walls that didn't shapeshift, and where it couldn't reach, light crystals that seemed to almost be fluorescent did the trick. Here was a collection of farmlands, with irrigation all the way throughout, and the fields were split into long rows of five apiece.

Changeling and gryphon soldiers were both tending the fields in farm-appropriate garb, hauling tools and large buckets to house the vegetables. There were a myriad of different vegetables available; beets, carrots, parsnips, onions and potatoes were the prime ones on the fields here, though there were some others that took a moment to be discerned because they needed to be squinted at due to the distance.

Amusingly, the only magitek here seemed to be whatever specialized tools the soldiers were using; enchanted shears made quick work of unwanted stems, rakes and hoes tilled the earth and scraped up loose harvest by the dozens, and swift thimbles ensured that any eyes growing on the potatoes that were to be eaten were snipped off and dealt with accordingly.

The buckets might have been magitek too, because they didn't seem to be overflowing at all; no matter how many vegetables and the like went in, very little if any came back out. Some curious round drones with propeller blades flew about, steel-grey with crimson lens on the front, also hauling buckets and tools and vegetables with great care.

Anna gestured to the far door at the left with a claw. "That over there leads to our fruit orchards; there, we have mangos, lemons, oranges, pears and so on. Beyond them is the vineyards for grapes, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, and past that's the chili pepper fields." She turned to the Crusaders, smirking. "There's probably a lot more I'm not mentioning about the fields alone; it helps that we have a lot of room to spare for them, and then some. We use a special fertilizer to help the plants grow and regrow a lot faster than standard; magic goes into it too, and the soil we use is only the best Fantasia has to offer."

The Crusaders chorused an "ooooooooh" as they turned to behold the size and scale of the vegetable fields. They jotted the information down, then noticed that a few of the harvested vegetables were regrowing at such speeds they wondered if they had even been replanted at all.

Anna's smirk widened. "Oh yeah, and the seeds of the vegetables are of a special strain that yields more bounties in mountains like these. We can get more out of less land, and when we replant…" She gestured to a soldier who was putting down some smaller potatoes sprouting eyes on them from a bucket on his back. "The results are almost as fast as the zap apples when they're in a good mood."

The moment the smaller eye-riddled potatoes were covered up by freshened, fertile soil, the ground they occupied heaved a little as a changeling came to work his magic through his hooves and send it out in pulsating bursts across the dirt. The potatoes reacted instantly, causing little shoots of green to sprout out, some even doing a little cutesy dance if the sun happened to kiss their patch of earth. "Cool!" the Crusaders chorused, grinning widely.

"That's just like what happens with smaller vegetables back home!" Apple Bloom chimed, eyes gleaming. "So how long does it take for vegetables to grow here?"

Anna lifted a claw and bobbed it up and down a bit as she did numbers in her head. "Well, depending on the vegetable, a few weeks to a few months. We have a wide variety, but fortunately our slimes only need to be fed every few months; while they eat a lot come feeding time, they still leave enough for the army to dig in." She then gestured to the door directly opposite of the slime ranch entrance.

"Over there's our black bird, tortoise, crab, fish and jellyfish farms. We make a lot of meat products there, for the few slimes who eat meat and the army of course." She pointed at the door to the right. "That is where the slimes are at, split into different and some temperature-controlled enclosures to keep them from getting trigger happy with each other." She lit her horn, grasped the four behind her, and teleported them all and herself to that door.

A drone hovered over and shone a red light as it scanned Anna. "Lieutenant-General Anna Aria Windwood recognized in data banks," the drone said in a robotic tinny. It turned to the Crusaders, and Katie, and scanned them as well. "Non-hostile wraith detected, recognized as guest until data banks are updated. Non-hostile fillies detected, recognized as guests until data banks are updated. Guests accompanying Windwood are to remain close at all times. You can proceed," it advised.

"You have some robots here?" Sweetie asked as Anna lead her and the others into a hallway that stretched on for a little bit beyond the door as it hissed open.

Anna nodded. "Some for fighting, some for disabling enemy magic with EMP fields, some for farming and some for support," she answered, shrugging. "Honestly, though, we keep them congregated in the mountain most of the time." They reached the end of the hallway, marked with another curious steel door that hissed as it opened, and entered the enclosure beyond proper.

There was a forest, at least several acres wide, with sunlight filtering in through more of those holes that didn't shapeshift and some sprinkler systems in the ceiling to simulate a light forest rain whenever it was needed. There were more crystals here too, colored and hot enough to simulate the sun itself in the places where the real deal could not reach.

Many trees, some fruit, but mostly miscellaneous, grew here with their own canopy thick enough to at least hold a candle to the Everfree. There were berry bushes and standard forest undergrowth, with a clear-cut path of tramped dirt before them that lead all the way to another steel door at least a thousand yards away that was currently shut.

The Crusaders grinned, with Scootaloo fluttering her wings as they beheld the enclosure. Katie heard bushes rustling and immediately turned in that direction, but relaxed as a vegetable slime about as big as her hopped out of the brush and grinned at them. Amusingly, it held a pear in its mouth, probably a Fantasian breed since it was more of a darker green than the Crusaders were accustomed to.

The Crusaders cooed at the slime as it bounced over to them. It gave one of them the pear in its mouth and allowed Anna to use her claws to scrape some of its gel from the side. Then it bounced away, making cute little squish noises as it went. Anna held the scraped gel in the sunlight, stretching it between her claws to examine its consistency and the like.

It had specks of vegetables in it, and some flower petals that kept their color in the gel. "Hrm… we might be able to use this for a spell circle, but it's nowhere near enough for even a tiny one…" She turned to the Crusaders. "How about we gather samples for your report? I'm pretty sure your teacher didn't say anything about not doing that."

The trio grinned. "We'd really like that," Sweetie Belle said. "Extra proof the ranch is real too would be nice, which will probably help with our extra credit."

Anna grinned, and conjured a small glass jar complete with lid to scrape the gel into. It went in smoothly enough, and filled the little glass container quite nicely. Once the lid was screwed shut, she gestured to the pear. "A little bit of slime will help preserve fruits for pretty much forever. That's how we keep our slimes fed whenever we get a food shortage," she said with a smile. "Should we get a bigger sample?"

"Well, I was thinking of different samples from each kind of slime you've got," Scootaloo said. She turned to Katie, who she noticed had been silent until now. "Fantasia to Katie? You there?"

Katie turned to Scootaloo, nodding, albeit seeming a little bit dazed. "Sorry… just… food coma," she muttered apologetically. Anna giggled.

"That means we'll need to monitor how much you eat, then," Anna said with a smirk, conjuring a set of saddlebags to put on her back and put the first jar into it. Katie groaned and lowered her head, only to receive a pat from a sanded claw. "Cheer up; it'll be part of the autopsy we do on you anyway."

"Autopsy?" Apple Bloom asked. Anna turned to her with a shrug.

"Normally, it's… looking at dead bodies to determine how they died. As we're dealing with a wraith, we're gonna be… required to see if anything else is wrong with her before her combat training starts," Anna muttered, her smile falling. "For her, think of it like a check-up at the doctor's office. Only… more extensive."

Katie glanced back up at Anna. "And speaking… of the autopsy… when will that be?" she asked.

Anna glanced upwards, doing numbers in her head. She glanced back down before answering, "Probably tonight, or tomorrow night. That depends on whenever Alexander stops his hissyfit long enough that I can remind him to do it," she said. She glanced at the trio and added, "It's over nothing you three need to be concerned about, but it's made him pretty mad."

Scootaloo frowned. "Are there mud slimes here?" she asked, gesturing to the forest enclosure. Anna shook her head.

"No, that one's a few enclosures down, in the muddied pond side of the enclosure," she said. "They feed on their namesake; same with the water slimes on the other side." She turned to the door at the far end of the enclosure, and teleported them all over there immediately.

The door hissed open and through it they went, into another hallway lined with gleaming crystals. Anna took a moment to conjure scarves and earmuffs for everyone, although they didn't quite fit on Katie so well. She took a moment longer to make sure they wouldn't slip off the wraithling, then sighed when they went on as well as they could, before leading the quartet to the next enclosure. Another door at the far end hissed open, this one billowing steam as it did, and into the surprisingly cold room they strode.

Snow blanketed the area, and here scarcely any sunlight came through the walls at all. Icicles and ice crystals blanketed the ceiling, providing a gentle moonlight-like glow onto the area. Between the crystals was an irrigation system, albeit stationed high enough that they could only be seen thanks to the crystals. About the same size as the forest enclosure, with a catwalk complete with rails stationed over the snow, it boasted a few larger ice slimes that weren't afraid to pull the snow into their gobs with their smaller orbiting slimes.

Sweetie Belle trotted to the railing and reared up on her hinds to better look at the ice-blue slimes. Katie mimicked the motion, chittering in approval. "So these guys eat snow?" she asked, her breath clouding in front of her face.

"Yep. We use crystals to regulate the temperature, and special enchantments that ensure they remain in effect, as well as to make it snow whenever we need it to," Anna answered. "Unfortunately, the ice slimes won't just yield their goods unless you encase your limbs in ice first." She conjured a set of dulled steel clawed horseshoes, all inscribed with runes. She passed them over to Katie, who took a moment to stare before realizing what Anna was asking her to do. She put the shoes on, buzzed her wings, and flew over the railing, tripping one hoof on the metal with a clang and spinning in the air before reorienting herself.

"Careful there," Anna said, watching hawkishly as the wraithling sheepishly nodded and flew over to the slimes, kicking up small flurries of snow with her wingbeats as she came near. The slime she approached looked at her funny, but Katie gathered snow in her claws and offered it to the creature, the enchantments on her extended shoe glowing and encasing her limb in ice immediately. The slime bit down on the offered treat, retracted without harming the ice or Katie's leg, or itself on the claws of the shoe, and turned to its side to let her gather pieces of itself.

She gently scraped off a wad of goo big enough for both of her two front hooves, and flew back without issue. She presented the goo, which had a faint gleam like ice and a slushy texture perfect for making ice cream with, and Anna summoned a chilled jar to store it in. The moment the gel was planted in the jar, icicles grew on the bottom and the lid as it screwed shut, and runes activated on the glass and lid to keep it cold. "I'd recommend using unicorn magic to hold it," Anna said, looking at Sweetie Belle as she stashed the jar in the saddlebag.

"So you can use magic with your hooves? That's amazing!" Scootaloo said, grinning as the wraithling plopped her hooves on the catwalk and let Anna take her horseshoes away and send them to the ether in a flash of light. She immediately noticed that Katie wasn't quite sharing the mood.

Katie jolted a second later, and in the brief second she did, the Crusaders noticed her orbs had dimmed considerably. They re-alighted without issue, and she slowly nodded as her brain kicked itself back into gear. "Well… unless I stab something with my broken horn, my magic… doesn't really have anywhere else it can go…" she mumbled somewhat apologetically. "And I only use it to fight anyway, most of the time…"

The trio shared glances. "That food coma's really kicking her butt," Sweetie muttered.

Anna sighed, lit her horn, and hefted the somewhat dazed wraithling onto her back. "It should wear off in another hour or so; we got time to kill anyway," she said, turning to look at the trio evenly. "Couple of weeks ago, she wasn't eating at all. She's… had some very interesting reactions to food, ever since Natalie decided to force feed her biscuits."

"Why was she forcefed?" Apple Bloom questioned, frowning.

"Well… something about being polite at her adoptive mother's dinner table. It nearly went pear-shaped," Anna replied with a shrug. "Needless to say, she hasn't tried that again, although it did spurn the appetite." She teleported them to the next door and let it open before they trotted inside, and she took a moment to remove the scarves and earmuffs. "This one… I don't think our little undead friend here should touch anything in at all."

Anna gestured to the crystals of this hall, which shifted from a cold blue to a blazing red that radiated heat as they went on to the next door. Before they even reached it, everyone began to sweat a little, and Katie gave a firm hiss of displeasure at the change in temperature, her chitin seeming to shrivel up as the door hissed open and waves of heat washed through on them all.

Inside they went, but instead of fire and lava and death as the Crusaders had expected, there was nothing but an expanse of burning sand set in cresting dunes of varying heights. The sunlight, both its real and artificial variants, was intense here, and it was fortunate there was no catwalk so much as a path of clear-cut sandstone leading to the next enclosure, because otherwise it would have been truly unbearable for them all.

As with before, there was a sprinkler system here, but in the intensity of the crystals' glow, it was barely visible at all. Completing the picture was some cacti, with some bent into funny shapes that were tilted as though they stood on one crooked leg. The ones in this configuration had a trio of holes near their tops, set in to look like wide-eyed and open-mouthed faces.

Scootaloo buzzed her wings, hoping to get a cool breeze going to dry the sweat. "You don't have fire slimes here, do you?" she asked. Anna nodded, and turned with a sigh.

"Well… we have them here, but they're in a special enclosure we're not allowed to enter. They're the more aggressive slimes, and we have to maintain preventative measures to stop any lasting accidents," she said. "I could gather up their gel for you, but you'd need more than oven mitts to hold them. Besides, it would probably burn that report you're working on anyway." She heard the rolling of moving sand, and turned in that direction as Katie gave another hiss of displeasure.

"I'm already melting here, thank you," Katie hissed, wings buzzing without achieving lift.

"Yes, yes, I know, primadonna," Anna replied, looking up at a tall dune as a slime of rippling sand came rolling down it in a graceful dance that sent more sand cascading down as it went. The Crusaders grinned in spite of the heat as the slime leapt clear over a funny-looking cactus, landing with a plomp to continue rolling in a mesmerising descent that dug a zig-zag into the dune.

It kept speeding up as it approached the sandstone walkway. It weaved around another cactus, and then zipped towards another to etch a circle around it before continuing on its way. Anna watched with a smile as well, eyes tracking the slime as it approached. "Looks like it's feeding hour," she said, amused. The slime kept up its elegant pirouette as it danced around another cactus, grinning the whole time as it came closer and closer to the sandstone.

Even as it drew nearer, more slimes crested the dunes and proceeded to stop, drop, and roll. The sand was spilling around them as they carved their trails, sliding around their stomping grounds with an ease to their movements and a grace that was matched by few wild creatures. The cacti were of no challenge to them; they simply darted around them as though their existence didn't matter at all.

The first one had reached the sandstone, and leapt clear over the heads of the Crusaders, whose eyes had moved to follow the arc of its jump. They cheered as the slime landed on the other side of the trail and dug into the sand by wriggling its body from side to side, before long burying itself into it. The trio turned to the other slimes as they prepared to launch themselves high, arcing over the path with adorably goofy grins that almost glowed in the light.

The walkway rumbled. Anna immediately shifted to lay down flat on her stomach. "Big Bertha's coming; you might want to duck," she warned. The Crusaders looked at her.

"Big Bertha?" Apple Bloom asked, before turning to the dunes as the largest slime she had ever seen came onto the scene. It was the size of a small Ponyvillian house, with what looked like a sandcastle sticking out its head. It tucked its smaller orbiting slimes into itself and began to roll, shaking the dune and the walkway with its descent. The trio got the idea and laid flat against the walkway, wincing a bit at the burning before it cooled beneath their bodies.

Big Bertha was no slouch in the grace department either, taking the time to bounce around each and every cactus that dared stand in its path, etching massive holes around the plants until it formed whole circles to move onto the next cactus in line. One of the funny-looking ones shuddered as Big Bertha brushed against its branches, seeming to sweat a little as the massive slime tromped around it.

The Crusaders watched the display, as Big Bertha carved another whole circle and rolled right on over to the third one. Another circle was carved in swift order, and it was onto the next in line. Apple Bloom watched, grinning as Big Bertha came closer and closer. The massive slime did not disappoint; it arced far higher over the walkway than the previous slimes, owing to its size and strength. As it reached the apex of the jump, it launched a piece of an orbiting slime down onto the walkway and plopped down into the sand on the other side with a rumble and a shower of granules that rained on the five. The four living ponies were wise to cover their eyes and mouths, and so was Katie.

Then Big Bertha dug into the sand and vanished from sight. The four ponies rose and took a moment to shake the sand out of their manes. Anna turned to find Big Bertha's surprise behind her, grinned, summoned a larger jar to hold it all and scooped it into the container with ease. The deposit had a silty, gooey texture, and the sand therein swirled and glimmered almost like stars.

Sweetie Belle hopped in place after she and the others were teleported to the next door. "Can we handle these slimes?!" she asked, excitement taking hold as the door hissed open to let them through into a far cooler hallway.

Anna conjured some towels, and dabbed away the sweat with them. She handed three small ones to the trio and nodded. "Just don't get too aggressive with them," she answered.

Katie just rammed her muzzle into the back of Anna's mane, sighing as cooler temperatures washed over her. "Gonna need a cold bath later," she grumbled. Anna rolled her eyes, and into the next enclosure they went. Here, there was a series of cobblestone walkways, with cement filling in the cracks just enough to prevent anything particularly disastrous from occurring.

There were some light crystals and sprinkling systems as before, but nowhere near as much as the previous rooms. The room was cool, but not frigid, and the walls shimmered near the holes in the mountain as clear water reflected light back up onto them. On all sides of the twisting paths were two ponds, one clear as the day and the other murky and brown, but not polluted-looking, and littered with some impressively large lily pads and reeds to complete the look.

Inside, swimming about, were some water slimes. A few of them were adorned with seashells, and some with starfish. A few of the bigger ones had seaweed and shells, and all just seemed to let the sun kiss their reflective bodies without a care. In the murky side were some mud slimes, sloshing about with lily pads and cattails on their heads, although a few were adorned with cute pink flowers that made them stand out. In both ponds floated a few rubber duckies, some of which found themselves sitting on the heads of slimes passing beneath them.

"And now, our last stop," Anna said with a smirk. She nudged Apple Bloom with a sanded claw. "Can you swim?"

Apple Bloom looked at the pond for a bit, finding it just a bit too deep for her friends' liking, possibly. "I can, but I'm not sure about Scoots and Sweetie," she said.

Anna smirked. "It's alright; I can float them over myself if I need to," she said. "You don't have to do anything fancy-like; they'll just hand you the goods." Apple Bloom dove into the water after handing her notepad and pencil to Sweetie Belle, and Apple Bloom swam over to the slimes. One of the ones floating a ducky bobbed its body out of the water, grinning as it seemed to glide across the surface.

The ducky squeaked as the slime let Apple Bloom reach a hoof out to grab some gel. It felt almost like water, but it wasn't liquidy like she was expecting—rather, it had a thin film that kept it together, almost like a ball that bobbled and warbled in her grasp. She swam back, careful to keep the ball of gel in her hooves and to not paddle too hard should it burst. When she returned, Anna levitated it into its own jar and sloshed it about, holding it to her face to check the quality as Apple Bloom clambered back onto the walkway with a soggy mane and a proud look on her face. She was offered another towel, and took it to dry herself off.

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were looking at the mud slimes, some of whom looked back as the others just minded their own business. "Rarity would fuss if I got into the mud," Sweetie Belle said. Anna turned to her and patted her mane.

"Eh, it'll be fine," Anna muttered. "You can always wash off."

Sweetie nodded, and gave her the notepads and pencils. She found a nearby lily pad and turned to Anna. "Are those big enough for a pony to stand on?"

Anna nodded. "I've tried it myself in the past. If you need to row the lily pads, I'd suggest this." She conjured a simple oar of wood and gave it to Sweetie, who took it in her magic and hesitantly boarded the lily pad. It supported her weight just as well as it looked; Scootaloo handed her notepad and pencil as well, and clambered aboard too. The lilypad still held, and the two of them plonked their butts onto it, with Sweetie rowing and Scootaloo beating her wings rapidly for a speed boost. They went around the reeds slowly and carefully, aiming for the slimes who were eyeballing them curiously.

"The slime ranch is the bee's knees," Apple Bloom said as she dried off, looking at Anna with a grin. Anna smiled back and set the jar of water gel into the saddlebags next to the others, and patted her still-damp mane with a claw. "Y'all seem to have it made here!"

"We do, but not everything is as simple as it seems," Anna said with a shrug.

Apple Bloom's smile fell. "Why not?"

"Well… here at Irongrey, we have a lot more enemies than just the wildlife," Anna said, gesturing about the room. "Fantasia seems to have made it big on the asshole lottery; every other week, something turns up because some jackhole decides he wants to ruin everyone else's day, and it just… it tends to escalate big enough for us to have no choice but to get involved."

"Why's it like that?" Apple Bloom asked.

Anna shook her head. "Here's the thing… we Fantasians don't know our own history the way you guys do," she said bluntly. "Whoever decided to burn those records was damn good at their job, because we're still scrabbling to find out why the barrier between the worlds broke, while those jackholes I mentioned keep doing their usual antics. We don't have any idea what happened in between the Sealing of Godcat and Faust to the disappearance of the Fantasian alicorns, nor how long it's been since."

Apple Bloom frowned at the information. Who would want to burn Fantasia's past to damn everyone that came after? She took a closer look at the two peculiar scars that stretched across Anna's back, noticing they went from withers to croup in a way that… that…

Anna shuffled, seeming to sense what Apple Bloom had picked up on. Katie turned to Apple Bloom and shook her head, as if to say 'now's not the time to be asking about that.' Fortunately, Apple Bloom understood, and all ears perked up when they heard the sound of sloshing mud and buzzing wings.

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo hopped off of the returned lily pad, a wad of mud gel held in magic. The oar was returned and sent back to whence it came, and Anna smiled at the other two Crusaders before taking the gel and examining it. "Hrm… larger granules than normal…" Regardless, she plunked it in a jar and put in the saddlebag, noticing that Scootaloo had some mud on her hooves and some splatters on her face.

Scootaloo grinned sheepishly. "I, uh, almost slipped and fell into the mud," she said nervously. Anna giggled, conjured a damp cloth from the ether, and proceeded to clean her up with a surprising amount of care.

"I did the same thing when the slime ranch was first built," Anna said with a grin. "As long as you're fine, I'm happy."

"Where are the tabby slimes?" Sweetie asked, grinning as Scootaloo squirmed in the cleaning session. Try as she might, she was up against an official of the military, but it only took a moment before she was squeaky clean again.

"We walked right past them, why?" Anna asked, tilting her head.

"Well, we kinda want to see them," Sweetie said, her grin widening.

Anna's face lit up as she considered this. "Oh, I almost forgot about those guys! They're probably sleeping this time of day, back in the forest enclosure."

"Do they have hair in their gel?" Apple Bloom asked.

Anna shook her head. "No, but the gel has plant-like strands that look like hair," she said. She gathered the trio up in her forelegs, still magically holding onto their notepads and pencils. "How's about we go back and get a few more samples, and I can go and get the samples from the ones we didn't see today? Maybe I'll let you crusade for your slime rancher cutie marks while I'm at it?"

The trio's smiles could have lit a thousand suns. It seemed as though they might get their cutie marks yet! "Deal!" the Crusaders answered in unison.

Second Day, Evening—Catastrophic Revelation

Author's Note

Heads up, this one features minor gore and death via not-quite-flashback. You have been aptly warned.

Second Day, Evening—Catastrophic Revelation

That night, with their bounties on the table and the note-taking well underway, the Crusaders seemed to have their work cut out for them. Their slime ranching went well enough with an actual adult who had the means to wrangle them to keep them from too much trouble, but the three were disappointed when slime ranching cutie marks didn't manifest. Still, the fun and thrills from another crusading gig had them in relatively high spirits, and there was always the next big thing that could finally net them their big break from being blank flanks.

Tonight, Katie wasn't in the room with them, but that gave the trio the excuse to just write to their heart's content since she wasn't there to leer over their withers. While it was a shame they couldn't obtain their slime rancher cutie marks, they did consider that there were other avenues available here. Oh well, one door shut, several windows open, as some of the wise ponies of history had once said at some point. Maybe some of the other soldiers would be lenient, too.

And besides, they were working on a school report anyway. It was better to hold on to the information, at least for now, and then try again for their cutie marks some other time. They were fillies; they had all the time in the sister worlds.

Although… Cutie Mark Crusaders Historians did have a nice zing to it. If nothing else, maybe they could start small… help dig up whatever remnants of Fantasia's checkered past remained, with some help from the grown-ups of course…

But that could wait, like other possibly-undiscovered cutie marks. Right now, they had homework to deal with, and it wasn't going to do itself, as much as they'd have liked for it to just manifest legs and start penning its own words. The only way that would happen would be if they summoned Discord to do that for them, but they didn't because it probably would have been cheating, not to mention anything regarding whatever embellishments that struck Discord's fancy were in relation to the whole possibly-sordid subject.

So far, they had gotten the basics down, compiled into a neat and tidy list for reference's sake. The list was itself a separate entity, kept to the side to avoid damages and the like, although with a nice small stack of papers beneath it should they need to expand on it for whatever reason. Apple Bloom looked it over again, just to make sure that everything so far was correct and in a format that could be easily read by Cheerilee when all was said and done.

No. 1: Irongrey Aerie is a military-run city-state located in Fantasia, sitting on a mountain with forests at its foot. A ring of steel surrounds the mountain by its middle, for the airships the army uses. The airships are used to transport goods and soldiers to wherever they're needed, although right now, they don't have a lot of trading opportunities yet. They also have tanks for ground-based travel, for mostly the same purpose plus fighting if the need ever arises.

No. 2: The Aerie is run by General Lance Boltwing, though he's on a tight leash. The Lieutenant-Generals, Anna Windwood, Matt Bladerune, and Natalie Starcovert, are tasked with keeping the leash where it is, and helping him manage the First Unified Army that lives in the Aerie.

No. 3: The Aerie is home to a large batch of changelings and gryphons, who came to work together after the Trials of Attrition drove them to fight each other. Very few, if any, ponies live at the Aerie, save the General and the Lieutenant-Generals. This might change, however.

No. 4: There are few Fantasian alicorns remaining, and none of them that we know of are currently allied with the Aerie. This might change, however, if new info turns up.

No. 5: The Aerie controls the regions of Greenwood, the changeling hives, and the gryphon provinces of Fantasia. Officially, they're presently allied with Whitefall Town, Goldenbrick Resort, and a nameless town on the southeastern continent. Also officially, they seem to be opposed by most of the rest of Fantasia for some reason.

No. 6: The Aerie is heavily reliant on magitek, charged with as much energy as it takes to raise the sun. From showering to fighting, magitek is the bridge between the average Aerie citizen and most tasks. However, the charging methods are a secret, but they reportedly use up pony magic. Supposedly, the General and Lieutenant-Generals themselves are the ones who do the charging.

No. 7: The Aerie is under ten years of age. Its construction happened in recent years, once the Trials of Attrition came to an end.

The next sheet detailed the whole sordid affair that was the Trials of Attrition, though it largely consisted of what little Armin had told them, and some minor footnotes of their own regarding the whole thing. Mercifully, it left out the part that Lance himself was the one who more or less kicked off the proceedings for the affair, as the trio weren't sure if he would approve of that mention otherwise. And taking into account what Armin had said about it gave them cause to play it safe for now.

Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle were perusing the pictures again, shuffling through them when the door opened. Katie strode in, ears somewhat droopy. The trio turned to look at her, noticing that Anna lingered in the doorway behind her with a solemn expression. "Okay…" She turned to Apple Bloom again. "I know you're probably not going to like what I have to tell you…" She sighed. "But you won't have to worry about Sunnytown anymore."

Apple Bloom frowned at the news. "Whaddya mean?" she asked.

Katie's eyes narrowed a bit. Her orbs dimmed. "Well… I told the higher-ups about it. Me and Bushels here are gonna see to it that something is done about that place." She lifted a hoof before Apple Bloom could protest and added, "Zombies, right? Did you ever get told about how a zombie is put down?" Apple Bloom shook her head, and Katie turned her raised hoof onto her own head and made a kerpash noise as the hoof jerked away. "It'll be messy, it'll be hectic… but we'll come out of it alright. I can't vouch for the rest of the town, however."

"But they drain you if you touch them! They almost did that to me!" Apple Bloom protested, eyes widening at the mere idea that Katie was suggesting.

Katie gestured to her horn. "Well I have some nasty surprises for if they try that," she retorted. "One more thing… what kind of community is it, besides undead-infested?"

Apple Bloom wilted, seeing the conviction flashing in those orbs. Even tonight, she wasn't thrilled about the idea of one zombie getting into a scuffle with several more, no matter what the reasoning behind it was. "Earth ponies, mostly…" she said dejectedly. "But I think they're immortal…"

Katie shook her head. "When I get to them, they won't be," she promised darkly. "It might be on Mythonian soil. Its actions have not been excused by us, and whatever shadowy force has kept them going for however long they've been plodding on your planet will not protect them." She trotted over and put her hooves on Apple Bloom's withers. "Look at it this way: no more foals will go missing because of those blowhards. No more will join the undead ranks. That. Stops. Here."

"But how are you going to get there?" Sweetie questioned.

Katie just turned to look evenly at Sweetie Belle. "If we don't use our airships… and I'm not particularly thrilled about that ride… we'll figure something else out. I'm not sure what Celestia has to say about the town, but I'll bet you her opinions on it are not the prettiest out there," she answered.

"You probably have to run that by Celestia first… and I'm pretty sure she's still stuck running Equestria and all that," Scootaloo pointed out with a frown. Katie winced as she recalled that particular part of diplomatics, and how much of a pain in the posterior it was to even deal with those nobles during her brief stint in Canterlot. "Paperwork, boring adult stuff… it'll take weeks for the forms to go through, and that's if the stuffy nobles don't do something to make sure it never reaches Celestia."

Anna piped up, "So… how do you know this?"

Scootaloo wilted a bit, wings drooping. "Well… I was a flower filly for Cadence's wedding, and I heard some nobles talking bad about Fantasia before the barrier even broke," she said. "Then again, they were also talking bad about Cadence and her marrying somepony she really loved, before Chrysalis and her changelings nearly ruined it." She looked at Katie quite squarely and asked, "And let me guess: you showed them what you really looked like, and they decided they didn't like you?"

Katie sighed, and bitterly nodded. "Decided to send us to a hotel whose staff were already on thin ice by the guard at the time. I still don't know who pulled those strings and if they got punished for it," she muttered.

The trio winced, recalling that a newspaper detailing that fiasco had circulated back home. That day, they had to ask their sisters and aunts and idols some more… uncomfortable questions, including why the culprits wound up in the Canterlot Infirmary before being tried. It did not escape their notice that Anna had winced, too, eyes widening the tiniest margin.

"And Applejack had been talking about how the nobles acted during the Grand Galloping Gala last year," Apple Bloom said, frowning as Anna trotted to them. "All they yakked about was social status or some gussy frou-frou like that, or how they blew their bits on really expensive and stupid things. 'Look at me, I got a fancy boat!' 'Look at me, I own three houses!' It was more of the same during Twilight's birthday bash, too! What do they need three houses for, to compensate for something?"

Anna sighed. Katie smothered a snort with her hoof. "Knowing the nobility when I first met them, yeah, they're probably compensating alright. Most I've seen was just trying to one-up the other, when they weren't talking down to me for…" Anna's eyes gravitated upwards as she once more found herself searching for words, "well… inappropriate behavior that I was stupid enough to display before them all."

"Feather-fondler," Katie muttered under her breath.

Anna turned to the wraithling, who wore her smugness on her bony sleeves. "Shut up, scarface," she hissed in reply. She groaned when Katie giggled, and turned back to the Crusaders.

"That's rich, coming from you," Katie snarked. Anna turned to glare at her, and she instantly shut her split claptrap up. Anna grumbled under her breath, and turned to the foals.

"Anyway, you three were saying?" Anna prodded.

"Well… Rarity's also been talking about how she wanted to be among the nobles, when she was still… in love with some noble before she knew him better," Sweetie said, shuddering uncomfortably. "Let's just say bad first date at the Grand Galloping Gala and leave it there."

Anna frowned. "So… most of the nobles of Equestria are, at best, pompous twits," she said, looking at Sweetie, who nodded. "Any forms we might send to Celestia are gonna get sidelined, even if they do bother to read about the 'clearing out the zombies' part." Another nod answered her. She knelt until she was eye level with the three and asked, "And they're probably worse than your so-called foalsitter, on a scale even I'd have trouble comprehending." Another nod came and went. "And they like to blow their bits on everything they can, without doing anything for the common ponies." Nod number four followed in short order.

Anna sat down, raised her front claws, and waved them dramatically as she asked, "How are they still allowed to help Celestia run their damn country?!"

Somepony clearing their throat grabbed their attention. They turned to find one Prince Blueblood in the doorway, frowning bitterly. "I can help answer that…" He waved a hoof, and Anna and Katie sighed and moved to follow him into the hall. He nodded to the Crusaders and added, "Adult discussion, I'm afraid. I do hope you understand." With that, the door closed behind the Fantasians and Blueblood, leaving the trio alone.

Sweetie Belle shrugged and went back to the pictures she was holding. "Eh, seen weirder," she said blaisely. "Do you girls think that Irongrey Aerie has its own standards of normal?"

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom traded looks, then turned back to Sweetie with dual shrugs. "Probably… they're run by ponies who are loco in the coco," Scootaloo muttered. "It's likely on the same scale of normal as Ponyville is."

"And not to mention the magitek—it can do almost anything. Something's bound to happen sooner or later that'll require someone like Blue Crow to fix it," Sweetie Belle added.

The trio shared glances again. "And most magitek, they're probably not gonna let us operate," Scootaloo said, frowning. "So we most likely can't try to get magitek pilot cutie marks."

Apple Bloom wilted at that. "And if we did, we don't know how the adults here would react…" That was not a happy thought at all, even taking into account how the Fantasian escorts first reacted when pressed even the tiniest increment about their cutie marks when they initially came to Equestria. She started to consider that, just maybe, there weren't any particularly happy stories behind those cutie marks at all.

Did Fantasians really treat such a natural, immutable phenomenon with that much scorn and loathing, or did she win the lottery on the mother of all cutie mark stories without even knowing it? It wouldn't have mattered if she won the lottery on the second one, since she virtually had no details to work with, not so much info even regarding what the Lieutenant-Generals could have been good at despite having shown her their marks plain as day. Matt said something about being good at magic and swords, and Natalie said something similar on the magical front… but both neglected to mention what kind of magic they favored most.

Silence held the room for an uncomfortably long moment. Apple Bloom shared another look with her bestest buddies, and they seemed to consider the unhappy musings that she did, because their faces had twisted into forlorn disappointment. "I noticed something else weird about Anna," Scootaloo said, wings drooping further. That caused Sweetie Belle to put the pictures on the table. "Do either of you remember a flute on her flank?"

Both Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom feverishly nodded. "Tangled in the ivy with the arrow, why?" Apple Bloom asked.

"Well… the flute's been missing since we came here," Scootaloo said, frowning. "Do you think… her cutie mark might have been altered?" The other two shook their heads; that was an absurd thought to even entertain. Cutie marks couldn't be changed by no force in Equestria, after all, and as far as they knew the same held true of Fantasia. Although, then again, the barrier had been broken for a while now, so it would naturally take some time for any worthwhile info to get back to them on that front.

Still, the unhappy question danced in their heads. The door opened, and they turned to find Anna looking at them with the most lemon-sucking sour frown on her face imaginable. "So, you've noticed…" she muttered. At the nods, she sighed and eased the look; no use looking like a drill sergeant for something one didn't exactly take the time and effort to hide. She strode over and sat down, then shifted to lay in order to gather the three in her forelegs.

"Unfortunately… yes, my cutie mark had been altered. There are… certain spells used in conjunction with other spells, all forbidden here of course, that had been cast on me before I even got my mark," Anna said somberly, looking at the three evenly as pain flashed in her eyes. "It's also how I wound up with…" The vines and wood rustled on her legs for a moment before settling down.

"Why would anypony cast those spells on you?" Apple Bloom asked, ears turning back. She felt a pit being carved into her stomach, and braced herself for a sordid tale the likes of which would probably give her nightmares for the rest of the week.

"To ensure I would never have the incentive to get my cutie mark. The spells would act up every time I tried, and… well, bad things happened when I did manage to obtain my mark anyway. The source of that magic has been dealt with, but…" She started to look uneasy, and somewhat guilty over something the trio couldn't pin a name to. "Well, I'm stuck dealing with the fallout."

"How much do ponies hate cutie marks here?" Scootaloo asked. Anna's face immediately contorted into a grimace.

"Enough to hold competitions that killed everypony who got dragged there. Every single one there had their marks recorded and their lives taken before Matt, Natalie, and Lazarus put an end to it almost a decade or so ago," Anna said darkly. The Crusaders gasped, eyes widening and ears pinned back.

"Do you know why they were… were…" Sweetie Belle started to shudder, unable to finish the gruesome question.

Anna nodded. "From what they were told, it was to make sure nopony could rise up and challenge the status quo. What that was… I don't know. Nopony's ever managed to find the actual reason for that insanity yet, so we're currently stuck with guessing for now."

Scootaloo shuddered, and something she hadn't asked about the war before flew out of her mouth on automatic reflex: "So those swords used to… stop that flock of gryphons, where did they come from?"

Anna sighed. "I think it's best to let the actual caster answer that…" she muttered, her horn flashing for the briefest of moments. Silence held, her grip unyielding, and took several moments away with it before the door creaked open again.

More hoofsteps filled into the room. The trio glanced over Anna's shoulders to find Matt and Natalie approaching, the strange crystal stallion from before trailing behind them. All had grim expressions. "Because those ponies… they wanted to make sure nopony to stop the disasters that would come to Fantasia," Matt said, horn glowing in soft gold. "There were ponies who wanted us all damned to the pits of Hell, who wanted us to stagnate for eternity. Or at least, that's the reason I'll stick to them until I can find another one of those bastards to squeeze the actual answers out of." He laid down, and looked at the three evenly. "But they took me and these two—" He used a hoof to indicate Natalie and the crystal stallion, "—to the place where everything changed."

"Did you get your cutie marks before you met those ponies?" Scootaloo asked.

Matt shook his head, and his expression darkened. "No, after. It was as if they could tell we'd have gotten them soon at the time," he said. "You three… you might want to brace yourselves. This isn't something I can exactly show to younger children." When he was sure they had braced themselves, he prepared himself for a terrible trip down memory lane and willed his magic to take a square-like shape that was awash in sepia tones.

A projection lit up before him, staticy and warbling and blanking in whole spots like an old-timey reel, showing off a stadium full of cheering ponies. Cages littered the scene, most with a pony lying down with their backs turned to the center of the arena. A bloodied sword, one with golden wings on its hilt, stood before the projection, with some of the red stains still glistening. It hovered before a frightened and sobbing colt, who had his legs folded beneath him and his head bowed low.

"Just make it quick," the sobbing colt pleaded. The image transitioned with a jittery hiccup, revealing the same colt in a cage not too far away, his back turned and unmoving as the crowd cheered wildly. Another cage opened, and adults threw a hapless filly clutching a ripped dollie out. The filly couldn't have been older than thirteen. She tried to run away, but careless adults just threw her back into the ring, stomping on her plush and making her wail for good measure.

"Why did you kill my plush buddy?!" the scared filly wailed. The crowd jeered, and the adults only wore horrible grins. They threw her a knife…

The image transitioned again with another jittering hiccup, to that same filly lying flat on the ground, curled up in a way that obscured the knife. Once more, the crowd howled in demented glee. The adults shook their heads and tossed her still body into a cage, along with the remains of her plush friend. A third foal had been tossed into the ring, shaking and wielding a bow. He loaded an arrow into the drawstring, uncertainty in his eyes, and fired.

The blade moved imperceptibly fast, and cut the arrow in twain. The image flashed again, this time blanking entirely for roughly two seconds, and the colt was face-first in the dirt, as still as the other two. It didn't take the Crusaders long to connect the dots, as the colt was thrown back in his cage to the tune of the crowd's howling and chanting. Tears threatened to prick the trio's eyes as they continued to behold the unfolding travesty in most of its gruesome glory. The song and dance repeated for an uncomfortably long time, the image shifting just before crying ponies were felled, until finally only two children remained. The last two were removed from their cages simultaneously, and hurled into the ring with prejudice. Here, the projection cleared up considerably, and everything came into sharp focus.

At the side of the blade stood a wide-eyed, smaller and lankier Natalie, carrying a simple crystal-tipped staff. On the other side, a smaller version of the crystal stallion wobbled, magically clutching a spear with a sun-like formation before the actual blades, the tell-tale sheen of crystal ponies practically nonexistent on him. Both had reddened faces and red splatters on hooves and cheeks, ears pinned back and puffy eyes threatening to leak tears. They hesitated, sniffling and glancing between each other with uncertainty.

A voice rang out in the projection. "Whoever wins this final fight shall have whatever they desire granted to them… so long as it's in our power, of course." The trio could hear the sneer in the unfamiliar voice, elderly and malicious in equal measure. "We don't want to entertain the fancy flights of three scared little foals, do we?"

The crowd's cheer rose to a deafening din. "We will not tolerate those who crusade for their cutie marks!" some of the ponies shouted. "We will stamp out cutie marks from Fantasia forevermore!" others howled. "No marks! No talent! No hubris and pride to call our own!" a third of the throng yelled.

Scootaloo looked at Matt, wings halting in place as the puzzle clicked itself complete in her head. There was no way that was possible, and yet what she heard from the projection forced her denial into its cage before it could take root. "You were—"

Matt nodded, using a hoof to indicate to himself, Natalie, and the crystal stallion again. "Just like you," he said bitterly. "That was what got us dragged there."

Scootaloo turned back to the projection, horror gripping her heart. The unfamiliar, malicious voice went on, chuckling ominously, "But only one of these pitiful foals can stand… and the other two will have to leave without the winner. Pick wisely, little ones; we don't want anything untoward to happen, do we?" The eyes of the younger crystal stallion widened, and he almost dropped his spear. Filly Natalie's legs shook as she looked about ready to cry all over again. The bloodied sword raised a bit, before it clattered to the ground. "What's wrong, little kiddies, gonna whine? Gonna cry? Look at them; they've been like this since the main event started!"

"Kill them! Kill them! Kill them!" the crowd cheered, once more a deafening din that threatened to destroy as many eardrums as it could. "We will tolerate no cutie marks on Fantasia!"

Staff and spear clattered to the ground, and filly Natalie and the crystal colt started bawling and moved to hug each other tightly. The projection shifted closer to the pair, and white fuzzy hooves moved to hug them in turn as well. "I wanna go home!" three sobbing voices cried out in unison, heads huddled together as the younger versions of Matt and his friends couldn't take it anymore.

"... so they've thrown down their weapons…" the owner of the malicious voice hissed. "Very well… it seems we'll have to do the deed ourselves!" At this, the crowd booed, and started pelting the poor children with rotten fruits and vegetables. They didn't notice nor care, for they were too locked in their own grief to be concerned with the fickle whims of such a bloodthirsty mass.

Ponies moved in, actual adults with mutilated and burned flanks, each sneering as they carried sharpened knives to prepare the three children for the bitter end. "Start with the filly… cut her up in front of the other two," the owner of the voice ordered. Before long the three were surrounded on all sides, and the faces of the bloodthirsty adults darkened and darkened until they were like living shadows as the terrified foals looked up to meet their eyes.

"Any last words, little filly?" one of the adults asked, using magic to forcibly pry the younger Natalie away from her friends by her mane. She squealed in protest, and kicked as a knife moved to hover before her throat.

At once, three little horns glowed in the projection, and the adults were knocked back into the walls by a wave of powerful, white-hot fire that broadened their scorch marks and left cracks in the stadium's inside. The knife that would have sliced a vulnerable neck clattered uselessly to the ground, glowing red-hot and angrily. "Leave us alone!" the filly Natalie wailed, her whole body awash in white light as her eyes screwed shut and her ears shuddered. "W-we didn't deserve this! W-we just wanted our cutie marks!"

The adults rose again, and promptly reclaimed their knives. One tried throwing his knife at the younger three, but another blast of white-hot fire melted it before it could reach them, its liquidized form puddling only inches away from the younger versions of the Fantasian trio. The crystal colt glowed, nowhere near drowning in light as the filly Natalie was, but he reclaimed his spear as light built on his flanks.

Shadows raced out, encircling the stadium and the skies above it. A portal ripped itself open between the spokes of a pentagram before filling in the crimson star, etched with unfamiliar runes and casting a blood red light onto the scene. The crowd stopped jeering and looked up as fire swirled around it like angry clouds, coalescing into several burning spheres large enough to rival manor-type houses before they then morphed into five-pointed stars that shed feather-like embers. Impossibly huge weapons descended from the portal and hovered in the sky, silhouetted in shadows and crimson auras. Lightning struck the blades, but it did not harm them at all.

Ponies promptly screamed and scrambled for the nearest doors of the stadium, forgetting even their own bloodlust in their ironic fervor to live. The adults in the ring galloped towards the three, intending to end it all for them, and the crystal colt howled and knocked them back with the spear, rage and hurt and sorrow and fear all flashing in his eyes as they turned scarlet. He screamed, the sound less equine and more anguish, batting away knives with smooth fluidity, and ending lives just the same way in one lingering breath.

Fire burned those that came too close to the filly Natalie, some collapsing where they stood and others skidding into each other as the blast threw them off-balance. The younger Natalie's eyes had also twisted red when they opened again, the same emotions flashing across them with another one joining the fray: vengeance. She howled for vengeance for those who came before them, for those who lost their lives in the senseless madness, for those last shreds of her innocence that had been thoroughly broken and stomped upon without mercy. She was directing it all at the careless adults who had done all of that hurt and possibly more with as much raw power as a skilled adult sorcerer, and the sheer uncontrolled pain that now raged out of control and influenced her spellcasting.

Shadows held the remainder in place, shaped like claws and drawing the tiniest bits of blood from their ironclad grip. For a moment, the blade flashed imperceptibly, and then hovered as a clawed shadow took a moment to carefully wipe the blood away. Within was housed a reflection of the younger Matt, his mane now the same as the darkness holding the rest of the careless adults, eyes red and sclera black and pooling yet more shadows that were purple at first, his face twisted into something monstrously merciless and hurt. His horn was red going on black and then white, curved and longer and pooling more of the same.

He saw his own reflection, screamed, and charged. In one swift burst of speed, the adults whizzed by him, or he whizzed by them; the Crusaders weren't sure who had moved. He turned around in time to see the shadowbound ponies falling like a collection of dominoes, the blade hovering before him and once more drenched in scarlet. No longer were these scared and innocent children: the events of the insanity and the crowd's own bloodlust had created truly monstrous beings in their place, only concerned with repaying the hurt that was inflicted onto them a thousandfold.

And there was only one way that hurt would go: to the rest of the stadium, and possibly the area surrounding it. Given the giant swords in the sky, it was highly likely that nopony would survive the coming storm.

"What are you buffoons doing?!" the owner of the unseen voice cried, unconcerned that the foals' would-be assassins were presently preoccupied with being mowed down with impunity. They also seemed to be unconcerned with the fact that, while their ponies were being slaughtered, death and despair hovered in the blackened skies above. "Kill them! Kill them all!!"

The first large sword dropped and cut into the stadium with extreme prejudice. The structure collapsed on that side as the blade impaled itself into the earth, tumbling and crumbling and taking screaming ponies with it. Dust kicked up, obscuring most of the travesty from sight. Fire rained down, scorching everything it touched, further obscuring the scene with blackened, smouldering smoke. Time and time again, the adults tasked with murdering the children were stonewalled, or felled where they stood.

The projection halted before anything more could happen, then changed to another animated image: one of smouldering rubble, stationed in a wasteland of scarred and scorched earth at least miles wide. Only faint traces of architecture remained to show that the stadium had ever existed, and even those were pitted and scored mercilessly. Only the billowing winds broke the silence, swirling ceaselessly around the area, filtering the smoke into the skies. A paper flitted about in them, tattered and worn and illegible, and then all was still, save for the blustering gales.

Nopony rose from the rubble—not a peep of tumbling stone was heard. The crowd's cheering was but a distant memory now, with no lingering echoes in the few scant breezes present to even commemorate it. Their screams suffered the same fate: drowned out in silence, remembered only by those who had been there in the flesh. Three sets of hoofprints, one bigger than the other two, lead away from the scene, being filled in by windswept dust as though they never existed.

"We… had a magic surge, all at once," Matt said, face darkening somewhat. "We had no idea what we had done until the next day, and when it dawned on us… we hid in a cavern and cried ourselves to sleep. We barely got out and away from those maniacs. It was…" The projection shut off, and Matt closed his eyes as he moved to give the trio his own tight hug. For a moment, they saw his eyes turn red and his horn lengthen, before it settled back into place. "Let's just say it was not sunshine and rainbows after that. We… we couldn't bear to look at our own cutie marks for a long time, when we noticed we had them at all."

"What happened after that?" Apple Bloom asked in a small voice, moving to return the hugs.

"They gave us a group name, and started to hunt us down like we were wanted criminals, using our cutie marks as instant identification. They called us… the Children of Catastrophe," Natalie answered quietly. "It was weeks… then months… then a year and a half before we stopped being found by them. Each time… we had to end them to get them to leave us alone, and it never lasted… some nights we thought would go on forever because they kept coming, and coming, and coming..."

"And when we weren't defending ourselves… we had to steal supplies to survive. Food, clothes, blankets… not a single place seemed to welcome us, because we didn't know our reputation managed to precede us back then. We ended up having to get really creative in order to continue living," the crystal stallion muttered, shifting to wedge himself between Matt and Natalie to look the trio in the eye. His expression was haunted, and pain lingered in his eyes as he spoke, "Then we got separated, and I was on my own for the longest time. I had to hide my whole body in cloth just to get into towns and get things." He lifted a hoof to indicate the room, or perhaps everything beyond it. "That only changed just very recently."

The other two Crusaders moved in to give Matt a hug of their own. "Do Fantasians… really hate cutie marks here?" Sweetie Belle asked, taking a moment to hug the crystal stallion too. He hugged back with a forlorn sigh.

Natalie grimly nodded. "Many still do," she said. "And… we might have found evidence that those maniacs who threw us in that stadium could come back." Her gaze turned distant. "If they found out about you three… they'd give you the same treatment they gave us."

Apple Bloom made a noise of discomfort that was echoed by her closest friends. The idea that she might have to fight Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo for her own life was one she didn't want to contemplate. How could such ponies make children do something so horrible, just so one of them might live? How could such adults continue to live with themselves, or sleep at night, or do anything without any indicator that things were wrong? It was no small wonder that Matt and Natalie were initially hesitant to share their talents and the story behind them when they were pressed the first time; that was not a happy tale at all. "But you'll protect us… won't you?"

"We will," Natalie said in a tone brokering no argument. "We won't know when those maniacs will resurface… but we'll finish them off when they do."

"We'll have to eradicate them completely… I'm not sure that even we could do that," the crystal stallion said in a hushed voice. "But… would that make us as bad as them?" He turned to Anna. "And what if they found out about you, or Sarah, or Lance?" Anna shuddered as she considered the question.

"Can… can we still get our marks here?" Sweetie asked quietly.

"You can… but if you do, we'll have to watch you three closely to make sure you're safe, in case those maniacs somehow figure out you're here," Natalie replied. "We're not going to stop you from obtaining your marks, just from whatever dangerous activities you could do." She moved in to give them another tight hug. "We won't let them do to you what they did to us." She leaned in to nuzzle the three, and slowly, they relaxed a little.

"And if you do crusade for your marks again while you're here, just… run it by us first, alright?" Matt asked, his voice quiet. The trio looked at him and nodded, unwilling to get themselves in danger if cutie-mark-hating maniacs would find out and drag them to an arena just to die.

An uncomfortable question still had Apple Bloom shuddering as she asked, "Do y'all… remember what the ponies in the arena looked like?"

Matt shook his head. "They threw sacks over our heads and knocked us out. We don't know what the one leading the crazies looked like, or if he was there that night," he answered. "We don't know how big it was… or if the rest of Fantasia knew about it before we destroyed the stadium…" He gave the trio another tight hug. "But if we find another stadium like that… used for that purpose… we're definitely razing it to the ground."

"And when they do, I'll help them erase the evidence of its existence," Anna said quietly. "We'll mark the site with another hellscape to commemorate its stint as a place where dreams go to die."

Apple Bloom wilted. "Does Applejack know about this?" she asked.

Matt nodded. "Informed her not too long ago, after she asked…" His frown deepened, but not in scorn. "She told us… well, demanded… that we tell you the truth about our cutie marks…" His head bowed a little. "She wanted you to know… just how bad Fantasia is to some extent, because if she told you, she'd have probably swore up and down to break spines doing it."

"And we doubt you'd have believed us if we merely told you," the crystal stallion added, shaking his head bitterly. "Words… words could not do the Royale Catastrophe any justice… nor could they have healed the hurt that we got afflicted with…"

Matt hugged the three tighter. "I'm sorry I subjected you to watching that…" he muttered sincerely, taking a moment to rub the trio's withers with his large and fuzzy hooves.

"It's okay…" the Crusaders said in unison, shuddering as they tried their best to shelve the horrible mental images. It was one thing to peek into the past that way, but at least they had been spared from experiencing it for themselves, in the flesh. A part of them was already forgiving, but tiny fragments burned in anger, demanding more justice for those innocent foals who had lost their lives due to an immutable phenomenon and pompous blowhards who only wanted them dead because of it. Having Ragnarok and hellfire drop on the blighted area wasn't nearly enough consolation as they would have liked, for they considered the fact that said pompous blowhards were probably licking their wounds and rebuilding another den of death and misery elsewhere.

"Did anypony come back to that… that… bad place?" Apple Bloom asked weakly. She felt Matt shaking his head.

"Not that we know of. Last we heard, it was haunted by something," Matt said. "But we're keeping a close eye on its surrounding parameters, so we'll be the first to know if any funny business is going on there."

For a while, everypony sat in silence. Then, Apple Bloom spoke. "Can… can we crusade for magitek cutie marks?" she asked.

Matt jolted a little, but didn't immediately protest. He shared glances with the other three, who looked at him with varying levels of bewilderment and shrugged. "I… suppose," he said after a moment. "Just… make sure you have one of us with you so we can keep you from getting hurt, okay?"

"We can do that," Apple Bloom muttered, easing at last. She had to concede that Irongrey was probably the safest place on Fantasia at the moment, and for crusading she couldn't have asked for anything less.

Although she made a mental note to give Applejack the fiercest of tongue-lashings later for this. Maybe tomorrow would be optimal for that, if someone else didn't tear into her over it first. If someone beat Apple Bloom to that punch, well, she could just kick back and relax with free food and drink on hoof for that fiasco.

Matt seemed to sense what was on Apple Bloom's mind, and piped up with an exasperated smile growing on his face, "Don't worry, already verbally tore your sister a new one over it. She'll apologize tomorrow."

Apple Bloom snorted. Applejack better have, because otherwise nothing was going to stop the tongue-lashing save for maybe going blue in the face. And then she was gonna tell Big Mac on her once she got back home if the apology didn't come through. The mental images finally got punted in their mental cage, and at last she and her bestest friends could look forward to their magitek cutie marks.

They heard something being conjured from the ether, and pulled away from Matt to see the biggest bowl of ice cream yet, easily the size of Big Mac's barrel, yoke, and shoulders. It was a blazing fire engine red, topped with bananas and whipped cream and drizzled chocolate and a dozen other different toppings. Natalie scooted the bowl over to them, and to their delight, they found spoons stabbed into its surface. "I made extra Burning Frost Specials," Natalie chirped with a weak smile.

At once, everypony tucked into the ice cream, which had a nice burn to contrast its fruity sweetness, eased by the whipped cream and toppings. Nothing quite made the bad images go away like the perfect excuse for a late-night snack, at least for the Crusaders. It helped that they hadn't seen the worst the Royale Catastrophe had to offer, only the aftermath which spoke volumes about itself. And should worst come to worst, well, the perpetrators of that fiasco would have to get through an entire angry army and its magitek first, and the ponies who could rearrange Fantasia's surface on top of that.

Third Day, Morning—Apologies and Abstractions

Dawn came once again, and that meant the mess hall for the military-inclined. However, some soldiers were busy with something, though for the moment, the Crusaders didn't care for a lick about it. Katie was at their table, having already eaten, and she opted not to say much of anything.

Because right now, all three pairs of young, living eyes were on Applejack. Applejack, for her part, had the good graces to look awfully embarrassed, and Apple Bloom had an inkling of suspicion that she knew why. At Applejack's side sat Rarity and Rainbow Dash, both of whom were glowering just a teensy bit at their friend.

"So, you've convinced three of our military escorts to hack up how they got their cutie marks, and what luck, we managed to get the one about the giant swords," Rainbow spat, grinding her teeth just a little. "What the buck?"

"I had to know where those darn things came from, because something told me to not rest until I found out," Applejack said defensively, though that didn't change her apparent embarrassment one bit. "It just don't seem right that—" Before she could speak further, Anna teleported to her, lifted a claw, and tapped her on the withers with it.

"Not in front of the children," Anna whispered harshly into Applejack's ear. She teleported when Applejack nodded in understanding.

"Regardless of your reasoning behind that, you still played a part in traumatizing our own sisters," Rarity chided, shaking her head as Opalescence hopped onto the table and waded over to Sweetie Belle to demand cuddles and attention. Sweetie Belle provided, even though she knew to not have pets over at the table. "I do believe you owe them something."

Applejack wilted, ears pinned back. "I guess I ought to," she muttered. "I'm sorry, y'all. I shouldn't have let you watch that messed-up rodeo one bit." Every ounce of the apology, short though it was, was sincere. If it had been anything else, well, suffice to say that one of her friends would have probably slapped her until she put more effort into that sincerity.

At least, that's what the Crusaders thought would have happened if the apology weren't sincere. They couldn't vouch for whatever ran through Katie's head, but guessed that Fantasian bias and cynicism took the wheel again on that one.

"It's alright, just don't do it again," the Crusaders chorused in unison with a nod.

"It don't feel alright though…" Applejack muttered under her breath, just loud enough to be heard.

"And it shouldn't. I'm surprised you didn't get bucked in the face over that," Katie piped up with a snort.

"Oh do lay off the harshness, darling," Rarity said, turning to the wraithling. "I understand the military takes some… harsh methods in dealing with the traumatizing of children, but don't you think it's a bit much if an apology has already been given, and the traumatizer forgiven?"

Katie leaned back to consider this, then nodded. "However, here on this planet, apologies are rare, and the unrepentant asswipes are a dime a dozen," she replied. "It's like… we're in one of the only sane parts of Fantasia, you know?"

Rarity glanced back at the sulking ponies of Greenwood, who seemed transfixed on the increased soldier activity in the mess hall as of late. She sighed and turned back to Katie. "I do suppose you're right, and that's something Fantasia will need to change sooner or later," she admitted with a frown.

"Yeah, but try telling that to the asshole gallery," Katie stated firmly, snorting again. "They're more likely to turn your head into a watermelon than listen to any worthwhile advice." That made Rarity flinch, but she reluctantly nodded and sighed.

"Then I guess we'll just have to save the few who will listen," Rainbow said, shaking her head.

"Good idea, and it's a start," Katie agreed with a nod of her own. She turned to the Crusaders and added, "Trust me on this one, but few Fantasian settlements are willing to consider friendship." She gestured to the booth where Lance and his cronies would have sat, if they were still eating. "So far, we're the exception, Greenwood… only came around somewhat recently, and I think Whitefall's gotten the basic idea. Of course, we can't have friendship if we aren't willing to defend it, right?"

The Crusaders nodded. "I guess it makes sense; otherwise, Equestria would have been taken over by now," Sweetie Belle said with a shrug. Opal meowed in agreement.

"It's the same over here. For all I know, we might be broiling in another conflict soon or something, and what else are we supposed to do, roll over and let the enemy have their way?" Katie shook her head at that suggestion. "From what Blueblood's told me, some of the Canterlot elite might be willing to do that if it meant cementing their rule in place of the Princesses'."

The Crusaders shuddered at that terrifying thought. Katie proceeded to pat Scootaloo on the withers and added, "If that happens, you can bet we'll be among the first to take those weasels up to task. Sure, we might take a few lives here and there, but we'll avoid harming the innocent as much as we can, should that scenario come to pass."

The trio relaxed a little, and the adults stiffened. Well, at least the Aerie had Equestria's back if things should go south. A shout broke them from their conversation, and they turned to the source of the commotion to find themselves hearing the thudding of multiple hooves, at least a hundred strong.

The doors opened, and a menagerie of confused, cutie markless earth ponies, with very little in the way of pegasi and unicorns, entered the mess hall to claim what few tables remained empty. They settled in relative peace, though Apple Bloom shuddered as she found a few faces she could recognize in that crowd, all five of whom looked at her apologetically. Katie reached over and gripped her hoof, giving it a light squeeze. Strangely, there were some ghosts in the formation, but they didn't bother anyone beyond maybe weirding the soldiers out. One of the ghosts, the only one with a cutie mark, waved to Apple Bloom. Apple Bloom waved back.

"Sunnytown's atoned… mostly," Katie said with a nod. Apple Bloom looked at the wraithling as though she snorted something strong.

"You mean—" Apple Bloom started, eyes wide and jaw threatening to drop. Katie nodded firmly.

"They sorta came here of their own free will; they needed less persuasion than I'd have guessed," Katie said, turning to look Apple Bloom in the eye. "Regardless, they'll also need to be informed of the processes and proceedings around here, though I'm pretty sure that might have been covered by someone else already."

Apple Bloom looked to the Sunnytowners, most of whom seemed to regard the ex-villagers of Greenwood with curiosity. Said group looked back at the Sunnytowners with equal measure. Clamor rose from both parties, threatening to evolve into a deafening din when a sharp retort came from what sounded like a microphone. Everyone looked up to find Anna wielding a megaphone in her claw, perched atop the highest point in the mess hall, focused specifically on the Sunnytowners.

"Alright, I know this is new to those of you from Mythos, but we work… somewhat differently from Equestria," Anna announced, though only when she was sure she had the full attention of the Sunnytowners. "But to streamline the process of integrating you guys, feel free to ask any question on your minds—after you eat. You've just regained your mortal bodies, and they can't be neglected after all, so eat up; there's plenty of food to go around." She gestured to where the food line would've been, had one been present. "Dig in, but don't overdo it."

With that, the Sunnytowners moved to form a line, with some soldiers directing the herd and informing them of the nuances of the mess hall. Most were confused, but seemed to follow directions relatively well. Apple Bloom shuddered, struggling not to remember those ponies as murderous zombies, when she felt Katie squeezing her hoof again.

Applejack looked at the Sunnytowners and turned to Katie, propping her chin on her pastern. "A'ight, how'd this happen?" she asked, frowning.

Katie turned to her and sighed. "Discord helped with the transport of these ponies from their former home," she answered. "Convincing them… took some effort." She noticed a red-maned, grey-pelted earth pony trotting up to the table, orange eyes alight with regret and curiosity. "Go on, sit. There's plenty of room here."

The earth pony sat, looking at Apple Bloom with remorse in her eyes. "How… how are you doing?" she asked, her voice seemingly as tired as her eyes. And yet, mortality lingered in them just the same, Apple Bloom noticed.

Apple Bloom shrugged. "Fine, I guess. How about you?"

The red-maned earth pony wilted. "Mortal, whole… but there's just so many emotions running through my head right now," she answered, a tinge of bitterness to her voice. "I still don't know how to feel about Sunnytown being left to rot after all these years…"

Katie's ears twitched, and her orbs dimmed a little. "I know full well how it feels, Mitta. A bad place being the only place you've known getting abandoned takes a bit of getting used to," she said somewhat sagely. "But it doesn't change anything now—what's done is done. You can only move forward from here."

Mitta looked at the wraithling, seeming to see something in her that few could bear witness to. Whatever that was, Apple Bloom could not pin a name to it. "But where is forward, when everything's passed by to such an extent that you can't even tell what year it is anymore?" she asked.

Katie nodded, orbs wavering for a brief moment. "I know the feeling. I went and got my stupid ass sealed for I don't know how long, and when I wake up, I find Fantasia's somehow gotten massively worse than when I left its surface," she replied. Apple Bloom got the feeling she would have frowned if she were able. "I'm just as clueless as you are." She leaned forward and added, "But the difference between you and I is that you were conscious all that time, and I just… shut down after being entombed."

Mitta chuckled, but the sound was bitter and etched with regret that lingered on her face. "So what should I do? I'm in a new area, on another planet, and Godcat's loose," she said, trying to smile even if only for a brief moment.

Katie leaned back and sighed. She wrapped a hoof around Apple Bloom's withers. "I guess you could start by doing what Bloom here wants to do—go get your cutie mark," she suggested. "It's as good a direction as any, isn't it?"

Mitta wilted at the suggestion. "I don't know… what if I fall into hubris from getting it?" she muttered, uncertainty flashing in her eyes.

"We'll help when that time comes," Katie replied, tipping her chin slightly. "Just take it slow for now though; you have to get used to being mortal again first. In that regard, you're lucky—you get to find yourself, maybe get a job, start a family…" Her head drooped, and she pulled Apple Bloom close. "Me? That, I don't know…" She scuffed her free hoof on the table, as though it were the floor. "I'm mostly lost and confused still."

Mitta nodded, and relaxed a little. Still, untold centuries of confusion and regret painted her expression, and seemed to dull it into something that was worn away by time. "I guess I could take it day by day…" she said, smiling a little as she noticed Apple Bloom patting the wraithling on her bony withers. She looked around the mess hall, taking in everything that was unfamiliar to her. "To think that the Twisted Remnant was cursed…" she muttered under her breath.

"The who?" Rainbow asked, turning to Mitta with a frown. Mitta gestured up to where Anna sat, and Rainbow noticed that, every now and again, Anna would turn to where the Sunnytowners had gathered to eat their first proper meal in a long time.

Rarity sighed, and put a hoof to her chin. "And to think she was unable to tell us anything, not merely because of the slim possibility that we would not have believed her otherwise…" she muttered remorsefully, shaking her head. She noticed Sweetie looking in the direction that Mitta had indicated and added, "I don't think she would approve of us relaying the sordid tale to you, Sweetie. It's as unhappy as I've ever heard; a true tragedy, just barely averted."

"More tragic than those stories you fancy?" Sweetie asked, with a bluntness that only a growing child was capable of. Rarity bitterly nodded and closed her eyes.

"Far more tragic than it had any right to be. Perhaps one day, she'll relay the details herself, but from what little I had heard and seen this past month…" Rarity sighed deeply through her nostrils, then shook her head and lowered her hoof on the table. "Until then, only Lance is privy to the details. He's one of the few who could possibly be allowed to understand the full scope of the insanity she had to endure."

"Allowed to?" Scootaloo parroted. Rainbow nodded, wings shuffling uncomfortably with the motion.

"Yeah… it turns out, only a few are allowed to know right now. She's not comfortable talking about it," Rainbow answered, frowning uneasily about the whole thing. "She thinks the rest of society would shun her for it if word got out, or something like that. I've seen how jumpy she is if anyone asks; it's a really sore spot for her."

"Victim shaming," Katie proffered, letting go of Apple Bloom to cross her forelegs. She snorted at the mere concept of it and turned to the Crusaders. "You've ever been made fun of for something that wasn't your fault, that was a freak accident you couldn't control?"

The trio winced, remembering Diamond Tiara's bullying. For a brief moment, the memory reels replied every single ounce of the torment in their heads without stopping, flashing by as though it were in the throes of a sugar rush. Sweetie nodded. "Yeah, I got picked on because Rarity's here and I was over there on Mythos stuck with a foalsitter," she said, wilting a little. "Not to mention still being a blank flank on top of that. And before that, I got picked on for every single attempt I made with my bestest friends to get our cutie marks."

"And I get made fun of because I'm the only pegasus in my class who can't fly for some reason," Scootaloo said, wings drooping. "I can flap and flap until the cows come home, but I can't get into the air without help."

Apple Bloom's eyes glistened, just a little. "And I get made fun of because Mom and Dad are… not here anymore," she said after a moment.

Katie nodded. "That's what I was talking about—except here, on Fantasia, you have no idea how bad I've seen it here. I've run into whole towns that shunned ponies because something happened beyond those ponies' control. Some…" She turned away, pursing her lips and letting her ears droop. "Some just couldn't take it anymore, so they went where nopony else would find them and dug their own graves… and then what happened? Their graves got spat on because they chose to leave the communities that bullied them into trying to escape through death to begin with." Her head shook, and her orbs went out like lights for a moment.

Then, her orbs relit, and she turned to the trio once again. "Which is probably why," she went on, anger and sorrow leaking into her voice, "we're not giving you the tours of those other towns. Whitefall and the Aerie are so far the only exceptions I've seen in my whole life, before and after I turned into a wraith. In fact, we're probably the closest thing to Ponyville there is on Fantasia."

"Then maybe we could convince those towns to stop the victim shaming?" Scootaloo suggested, wings buzzing with the faintest trace of hope.

Katie nodded, then sighed and put her snout to the table. "It'll be easier said than done, though; those same towns love having their heads in the sand so much, they think it's below them to listen to advice from outside their communities," she muttered, her own wings shuddering. "Kinda like those nobles I heard about, the ones who complained about Cadence marrying Shining." She leaned back, and turned to gaze at the ceiling. "Hell, maybe they'll bitch if one of their own somehow wins Anna's hoof in marriage."

Blueblood trotted past the table as she said that. "Assuming the courtship even gets that far with her temperament," he said bluntly. "And after the incidents with Chanson Cheval, and the feather-fondling fiasco, I'm certain they would not want anything to do with courting her, let alone her sister."

Katie turned to Blueblood and nodded. "Fair point," she conceded. She turned to the Crusaders once Blueblood had trotted away, and sighed again. "That said, what would you three do to convince the towns whose heads are in the sand to do something?"

The trio looked at each other, uncertainty flashing in their eyes as they weighed the question. How would they deal with ponies like that, who preferred to ignore problems even as those problems became too important to ignore? Immediately, some ponies they found in that category came to mind—the head of Ponyville's school board among them, when that pony didn't have her curled snout skyward. Now that they thought about it, that pony was probably ranting about Fantasia not giving her the time of day, despite the viciousness with which the Fantasians treated colosseums that murdered foals for obtaining their cutie marks.

Ideas churned in their heads, even as they considered that Ponyville was the potential exception as far as that type of problem-ignoring went. Mayor Ivory Scroll didn't count; she had to keep the conga line in order even as the citizens lost their marbles. Discord was an everyday occurrence at this rate, so he didn't amount for much beyond stirring the trouble pot for fits and giggles from time to time. The other useless gossipy hens of Ponyville, on the other hoof...

"You're asking quite a lot of blank flanked children," Rarity said, shaking her head in disapproval.

Katie turned to her, eyes narrowing somewhat. "And I didn't ask to become undead, did I?" she retorted.

Rarity sighed. "I suppose you do have a point…" she muttered in a begrudging concession.

Mitta shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Sunnytown had that same problem… before everything else hit it nonstop," she said, ears shuddering. "They would not believe me when I started telling them we were on the fast track to getting cursed by an alicorn…" She looked back to where the others sat, ears pinned back. "I'm worried it's gonna happen all over again here…"

Apple Bloom turned to Mitta, pupils shrinking. "An alicorn turned y'all into zombies?" she asked. Both Mitta and Katie nodded, almost in perfect tandem.

Katie lifted a hoof and spun it for a moment. "There was an atonement clause in it, added by Faust herself before She got shoved into a can, but I'm not particularly… knowledgeable on the details." She turned to Mitta. "I would ask you to 'splain, but I'm pretty sure you'll have to inform the higher-ups here anyway." She patted Apple Bloom on the fetlock. "Just… not in front of the kids. They've been traumatized enough."

Mitta nodded in understanding. She heard the sound of hoofsteps approaching, and turned to the end of the table to find a grey-coated filly, woefully dotted with a myriad of scabbed-over scars and with an IV drip hooked into her leg, trotting towards them with a tangled light green mane and a dozing green pegasus infant on her backside. Katie turned to the child as well, and sighed as a shade of annoyance passed on her face. "Okay Heather, what do you need?" Katie asked.

"Want find auntie," Heather said, frowning. "No find auntie."

Katie snapped her wings open. She felt a small hoof on her withers, and turned to Apple Bloom as she and the other two Crusaders tried leaning over the table to get a better look at their fellow filly. "What's with her?" Sweetie asked.

Katie blanched slightly, and her orbs shrank. She immediately tried to salvage the situation, but all that came out of her torn mouth was, "Well… I… uh…"

"We found her like that; it's a long story, and you three aren't old enough for the details yet anyway," Rainbow proffered, inhaling deeply through her nose. She got up from the table, and trotted to Heather, spreading a wing to nudge her away and shield her from the Crusaders in one motion. Heather didn't protest, and let herself be escorted away so that she could find her auntie.

Applejack shook her head. "The doctors're probably gonna pitch a fit when they realize she's outta the sick bay," she muttered in dismay. "Poor filly shouldn't be out and about."

"You said it," Katie agreed, turning back to the trio. "She's… not been educated very well. That's why she talks like that."

"Does Fantasia have schools like in Ponyville?" Apple Bloom asked.

Katie shook her head. She gestured to where her chain of command would have sat if most of them were eating, then lowered her hoof to where they were idling in a corner, talking about something. "Creamsicle and Cowpelt are self-taught, homeschooled, with some help from NoLegs. Anna seems the same way, but I haven't been able to confirm much with her," she answered. "All informal, no diplomas or anything of the sort. Lance? I dunno about him, but I haven't seen anything fancy-schmancy with him outside his largest airship." At that moment, the crystal stallion teleported over in a blue-red burst of light, and when the trio looked at him they found him shaking his head.

"The only 'school' we've got, from what I've personally witnessed, is 'homeschooled,'" he said, frowning. "I was allowed to join the lessons before everything went south, but nothing formal."

The Crusaders shared looks. "And why don't you have anything formal?" Sweetie asked.

"Sweetie Belle—" Rarity began, only to stop when Applejack lifted a hoof to hold her by the withers.

"That's a really good question, actually," Katie agreed with a nod. "Even the hive I belonged to had a formal system, as short-lived as it was when I was alive. What's the deal, Lazarus?" Lazarus sighed and plopped his rump at the table opposite of Rarity and next to Sweetie Belle.

"Ponies are… afraid," he began, frowning. "Not just because me and the rest of the Children of Catastrophe are still at large. Oh no, it's a lot more complex than that." He shuffled his hind hooves and folded his front ones on the table. "They're afraid that more cutie marks are gonna pop up, and hubris will damn the world whenever Faust decides She's gonna get out of whatever sealing She'd been shoved into."

He waved to the ex-villagers of Greenwood, some of whom were now chatting with a few erstwhile Sunnytowners. "Those guys, for example, hid behind a barrier every night, and booted out those with cutie marks or those who defied tradition," he said. He felt Anna glaring at him, turned to her, and mouthed off with, "I've been there before I hit Whitefall Town, I can verify it myself!" Sensing his new superior's groan, he turned back to the trio. "And they didn't fancy outsiders too much."

"For a while… gods, I don't even know how long, they've been afraid that their way of life was gonna crumble to smithereens if they didn't stay isolated. It only got worse when, for a whole day, the town wound up getting caught up in the Trials of Attrition. None were killed or wounded thanks to Matt and Natalie, well except the gryphons of course, but the villagers were scared out of their minds," Lazarus continued, his frown deepening.

The Crusaders' eyes went wide. Greenwood was among those that would have been sacked if not for intervention?

"And then, the villagers discovered that one of their own had strayed from tradition when nopony was looking," Lazarus said, looking at the Crusaders dejectedly. "He went and married a hippogryph, without following Greenwood marriage protocol—and no, you're not old enough to know that either. Long story short, two kids came about from that union, and most of the villagers were raising fifty thousand shades of hell over it. One of the few remaining decent ponies there skirted around the details, but… make no mistake: something very bad happened to that family. Up and vanished into thin air is what I would have assumed if the Royale Catastrophe hadn't occurred." Katie winced at the mention of this, though the Crusaders didn't catch it as they were focused on Lazarus.

He leaned towards them, ears drooping. "Everywhere except the Aerie, Goldenbrick Resort, a nameless village on one of the islands and Whitefall Town has stagnated. You three know what that word means, right?"

Sweetie Belle nodded. "It's when a place doesn't want to change, so they stay the same for a really long time and hope for the best?" she asked.

Lazarus pursed his lips for a moment. "Well… that's one way to put it," he said after a moment. "But that's just it—they think that, by trying to stamp out cutie marks and all talents associated with them, they're going to be just fine and dandy when the next big disaster hits. No hubris means a gateway to whatever heavenly afterlife awaits, right?" He shook his head as the trio opened their mouths. "Well, it took cutie marked ponies to stop Godcat from annihilating all Fantasian sentients before moving on to the Mythonian ones. I wasn't there for that, but I can tell you right now that stagnation isn't going to help in the slightest."

He sighed. "And who do you think is gonna stop the next big disaster: a bunch of pompous blowhards, bent over backwards towards cutie markless tradition, or cutie marked ponies who may not have any idea what the hell they're doing, but are willing to put some effort into seeing things through?"

It didn't take Apple Bloom a whole lot of thought, especially in regards to the situation at the mostly-forgotten Sunnytown and the very thing that caused that town to turn sideways. "My bits are on the ponies with the cutie marks," she said in a tone brokering no argument. "I bet if Diamond Tiara wasn't a bully and knew how bad the problem was, even she'd do something about it."

"Weird flex, but okay," Katie muttered under her breath.

Lazarus tilted his head. "She got her cutie mark?" he asked.

Apple Bloom nodded. "Ayep. Genuine, too," she said. Lazarus moved to ruffle her mane with a hoof, tousling up the bow a little without wrinkling it too much.

Lazarus smiled at the trio. "Good to see you three have sense, unlike most of the towns I visited," he said, his voice warm. "Y'know, I heard some things about Ponyville from Armin. Nice, quaint, but bustling and pretty to look at when the ponies aren't raising hell and there aren't any disasters happening… to be honest, I'd like to see it sometime."

Applejack grinned. "Maybe we could arrange that once everything's sorted," she said. "I know Matt and Natalie loved the food there."

Lazarus snorted. "Those two eat like black holes if given the motivation," he said wryly.

"So says Sticklegs over here," Katie snorted, earning some snickers from the other soldiers as she looked pointedly at Lazarus, the irony of the comment not lost on her. She reached over to poke him on one of his legs. "Look at you, your legs would make ponies think they're hitting up a friggin' girl from behind."

Lazarus turned back to the wraithling, his smile becoming fixed. "Says the skeleton on miniature stilts," he retorted.

"Wingie baby! Auntie that way, not this way!" Heather called. Katie turned towards the doors leading into the mess hall, and found the pegasus infant from earlier wide awake and flapping madly towards the table, squealing for all it was worth. Behind the wayward child was Heather and Rainbow Dash, both trying to keep up without bowling the tyke over. The tyke didn't get much further than past Lazarus, largely because said stallion simply lit his horn and held the little one with his magic.

The baby flailed and hollered, and started to cry as Rainbow plucked him out of the magic and air. Rainbow grinned sheepishly, but moved to take Heather back to her auntie on her hind legs, using her wings for balance and her front hooves to keep the infant from wandering off again. Katie sighed as they went past some soldiers, who were now watching the tyke as if wondering who'd calm him down.

"That foal's gonna be a real hoofful to deal with when he gets bigger," Katie muttered. "Only days old, and he's already decided he wants all the wind beneath his wings…"

"Does he have a name yet?" Scootaloo asked, feeling a twinge of jealousy that started from her own wings and climbed up several ladders to her brain. Katie turned to her and shook her head.

"Well, we haven't even come up with name suggestions yet, but I'm pretty sure he'll get his own birth certificate and everything else here," Katie replied with a shrug.

"So who's his mom?" Sweetie Belle asked. Katie not only felt her sails dying with the question, but the area around her split grin puckering into something uncomfortable. What little color remained drained from her features, and she hrrrm'd uncomfortably as she tried to figure out how in Godcat's name to answer the question in a way that would keep Lance from smacking her upside the head for it later.

Fortunately, Lazarus came in to save her bacon. "I'm pretty sure if we told you, we'd have to go into a long and boring explanation that would bore you three to tears," he said, his tone as flat and level as the table they sat at. "Besides, I'm pretty sure your sisters would beat us on the noggins with rolling pins and sharp, pointy things if we told you here and now."

"Oh, no, no. I'd just buck you seven ways across both planets and through every mountain available," Applejack said, her smile fading.

"On Fantasia, there's little difference between being stabbed and being bucked," Lazarus replied bluntly.

The Crusaders wilted, about to aaaaaaaaaaaaaw! again when Applejack gave them a firm and somewhat sour look. Rarity came in to throw her two bits into the conversation, "That's… another horribly tragic story; a different sort of tragic, but awful nonetheless. It is both awful and dreadfully boring, and you'd alternate between having nightmares and wondering how such a thing is even possible."

"Another side effect of the stagnation," Lazarus muttered under his breath.

"I noticed that Heather filly had a cutie mark, looking like a campfire?" Scootaloo asked, tilting her head slightly. "Are you gonna hold a cute-ceañera for her, or has one already happened?"

Applejack put a hoof to her chin and tapped it for a moment. "Well… she's technically sick, so if we did, it'd have to be after she got better first… that, and someone would have to watch the baby so he doesn't get into anything he's not supposed to; but the cutie mark is new, so…" She pondered and pondered for a moment, frowning a little. "Would wonder why Pinkie ain't throwing a party if I hadn't seen the filly with my own two eyes…"

Katie slammed her hooves on the table, though all it did was make the plates wobble a bit. "I think we should; I'd like to see how the cute-ceañera goes," she said bluntly. "Once, of course, everything else is sorted out first."

"That reminds me, did Anna ever have a cute-ceañera of her own?" Sweetie asked.

Anna teleported over and sighed, attracting the attention of the trio. "Well… no, I haven't," she said. "Most that happened was my cutie mark got documented once the bad things stopped happening, and that was it."

It was at that moment that Pinkie Pie chose to come out of the woodwork, startling Anna by emerging from under the table with a shout. "You haven't had a cute-ceañera?!" she exclaimed.

Katie chuckled uneasily, sensing some very unsubtle changes in the air. She moved to gather the Crusaders. "I think we might have woken the beast…" she muttered. She tried to shepherd them away from the table, but it was only a few tables before Pinkie just emerged from under another one, causing some soldiers to squawk and look at her strangely.

Pinkie gathered the four in her forelegs; try as they might, she had an ironclad grip, and no amount of wiggling would save them. "Oh no, we're fixing this, right now. We're having a cute-ceañera for everypony here who didn't have one before!" she declared. "Well, except for Heather; she's sick, so hers is getting delayed."

Katie gulped, envisioning sugar comas and sweets galore. She turned to the trio. "You think we'd come out of this able to help you get your magitek cutie marks?" she squeaked.

"As long as we don't eat ourselves silly, we should be fine…" Apple Bloom answered weakly. She looked to the doors, where the six Fantasian adults were trying to sneak out of Pinkie's notice.

Unfortunately, there was no escape from the Pink Menace. She put the four down, pulled already-inflated balloons out of her mane, as well as her party cannon, and fired the moment the wheels touched the ground. The four ducked and covered their ears, and lassos and confetti shot out to rope the six trying to weasel out of their fate of being the guests of honor at their own party.

Pinkie pulled the lassos taut, with much whinnying, squawking and nickering from Lance and his cohorts. She pulled them back into the mess hall. "Nu-uh, you're having this party, right now," she said in a tone brokering no argument. "You're not leaving until I say so." With that, she pulled out party hats from her mane, pranced over to her secured prisoners, and put the hats on their heads.

The six whimpered, all ears pinned back. The Crusaders and Katie looked at them and winced. Katie spoke for all of them, "Welp, they're screwed."

Third Day, Afternoon—Pilot's Perambulations

Fortunately, Pinkie was merciful enough to let the trio continue with their assignment, but only after they had at least a slice of cake to celebrate the first mass cute-ceañera that Irongrey Aerie ever had. Unfortunately, all four higher-ups of the chain of command were stuck in the festivities, as were Sarah and Lazarus by virtue of being the guests of honor, leaving only Katie and a hoofful of soldiers to retrieve the notepads and pencils to start off another few hours of information hunting.

Though, fortunately for them, Blue Crow was among those allowed to chaperone them. He and three female, wingless gryphons lead the four down a series of winding halls and elevator shafts. Nobody complained; they needed to work off the calories from the party and breakfast, and this was as good an excuse as any they could come up with that would satisfy Pinkie Pie. One of the wingless females, a rust red gryphon with brown headfeathers done up in twin braided pigtails, tried to strike up a conversation.

"So… not to sound like an insensitive idiot, but cute-ceañeras are a big deal in Mythos, aren't they?" she asked.

"Really, really big deal, especially if Pinkie's the one throwing the party," Sweetie Belle answered. "For a pony to not have a cute-ceañera is practically unheard of in Equestria."

"Must've thrown Pinkie Pie for a loop the size of Canterlot when she heard that the higher-ups hadn't had one yet," Scootaloo added. "In her mind, everypony has a reason to celebrate their cutie marks, no matter what."

Blue Crow halted. He looked at the trio unsurely. "Everypony?" he parroted.

Scootaloo nodded. "Everypony," she said.

Blue Crow sighed and continued trotting. "Even if she knows that those cutie marks came from mass destruction, murder, property damage, and various other things I'm not listing to shield your innocence?"

Scootaloo shook her head. "Only because she doesn't know cutie marks can come from horrible things yet," she replied. "It just… hasn't happened in Equestria, at least that I know of."

"And if it has, well, Celestia probably has it under tight lock and key for Equestria's safety…" Katie muttered. She got a weird look from the Crusaders and sighed. "Come on, when have you heard about ponies getting cutie marks for murdering, or stealing, or committing arson?" Their silence was all the answer she needed.

"That sounds a bit far-fetched, doesn't it?" Blue Crow asked, frowning.

"Uh… giant swords of death and despair?" Sweetie Belle replied.

Blue Crow nodded. "Touché," he agreed. He turned to the rust red gryphon. "Have you seen any cutie marks like that which did not belong to our superiors, Red Barrel?"

Red Barrel shook her head. "Not one bit," she said. She turned to the maroon gryphon among them, who wore her headfeathers in a low ponytail and asked, "Did you see anything like that, Rose Windmill?"

Rose Windmill wore an easygoing smile even as she replied with, "Nothing displaying so much as a spark of flame." She took a moment to adjust the goggles on her head and added, "Then again, I might have to tour Equestria to get back to you on that one."

The last wingless female, her body varying shades of gold and with twin braids matching those of Red Barrel, answered even as Blue Crow turned to her to open his mouth, "Nothing that would be particularly fancy or innocuous." She pondered for a moment, her blue eyes alight with wonder, and then she shook her head. "Then again, I haven't seen much in the way of any cutie marks outside of this area…"

"At least, until the Mythonians came. But they're the exception as far as we're concerned," Red Barrel pointed out, smiling as the Crusaders bounded up to walk between her and her companions.

"Yes, yes," the golden gryphon agreed, her expression still thoughtful. "That being said, I cannot help but wonder how they got their cutie marks."

Blue Crow stopped at a seemingly innocuous door, and moved to open it. He went inside, and the others followed him. The Crusaders gaped in awe; before them stretched a hangar as big as the mess hall, with a hole leading to the ring surrounding the mountain outside and a support post anchored to the hangar's exit. Inside were the goods; a few airships, and what seemed to be varying models of planes that had been stamped with Lance's cutie mark. "Well, it's time to get the maintenance checks underway," he said, turning to the trio. "But we'll give you the nickel tour while we're at it."

With that, he lead them into the hangar proper, stopping to wave a claw at the first airship to the left. It had a triple-headed bust boasting equine, gryphon, and changeling traits, with two pairs of wings reminiscent of the latter two races. She favored reds, yellows, oranges, and greens along with silver and black, and while she was smaller than a lot of her fellows, she was still big enough to hold an adequate number of passersby and crew hooves. "Right there is the Scylla, a scouting vessel mostly used to scope the land before anything diplomatic happens," Blue Crow said, smiling broadly. "Though recently, I heard she managed to get into Equestria days after the barrier between the worlds broke."

The Crusaders jotted the information down, grinning widely. Katie nodded when the trio looked at her. "I was there with them during that wild ride," she confirmed, her smile evident in her voice. "Good thing they had seatbelts when gravity kicked in."

"Can we look at the inside?" Scootaloo asked.

Blue Crow chuckled. "Well, the Scylla is barebones, only carrying the essentials I'm afraid," he answered. He shepherded the trio along when they were done notetaking, and went on to the next airship in line. She was a fair margin larger than the Scylla, with hatches on the underside of her hull that were closed, save for three that let thick posts hold the vessel up like something to be displayed at a museum. Her gangplank had been lowered for now, allowing easy access.

"Is that ship working properly?" Sweetie asked.

"Nope, which is why she's strung up like that. Good thing the gangplank works; otherwise I'd have to hitch myself to a rope and climb over the hull," Blue Crow answered. "You can look, but do not touch; we don't want anything nasty to happen." With that, he trotted up the gangplank, and the Crusaders followed him with Katie and the other gryphons flanking them. Inside were a few changelings running diagnostics on lifts within the vessel as well as the barebones rooms themselves, many wearing party hats strung up on top of construction hats, some still possessing icing smears on their lips as they worked.

"Any more sweets, and I'm liable to be in a sugar rush, Major Rhinoc," one worker said as he talked with another. The second had a smaller horn growing on the tip of his nose, with purple eyes, wings, and carapace. "Yeesh, that Pinkie knows how to throw a party, though."

Rhinoc bobbed his head. "I'm surprised she didn't coax the wraithling into eating more sweets. Though I'm pretty sure our superiors are gonna have a baaaaaaaaaad sugar coma tonight," he said, frowning slightly.

"You think they'll need to be taken to bed, sir?" the worker asked. Rhinoc nodded.

"Yeah, and one of us on standby to explain last night away. They'll probably think they got drunk tomorrow," Rhinoc added, frown deepening. His ears twitched when he heard scritch-scratching, and turned to find Blue Crow looking at him. "Ah, there you are. Been wondering when you'd show up." He turned to the children and wraithling behind Blue Crow, and smiled warmly. "Oh, looks like you're taking up babysitting duty."

Blue Crow waved a claw and snorted. "Nah, they know not to get into things they're not supposed to. Besides, I hear they need the information for a school project anyway," he replied.

Rhinoc nodded in understanding. "Ah, yeah, that thing." He turned back to Blue Crow. "Anyway, we managed to fix the lifts, but now we gotta fix the engine and the charging station. I wouldn't suggest heading to the engine though; we've had more than a few gears falling out of place lately."

"So, it's accident central. And the charging station?" Blue Crow asked, frowning slightly.

"Well, some of the crystals cracked and they need to be changed…" Rhinoc lit his larger horn and summoned a closed leather pouch, which he put in Blue Crow's claw. "Fortunately, none of them require flight to access, and the cracked crystals are duds." He nodded his head to the right, indicating a lift in that direction. He also gestured to a few radios hanging nearby on a wall, primed and ready for use. "Take a radio if you need to; I'll be here overseeing the shooting match if you need anything."

Blue Crow nodded, plucked a radio from its hold, and trotted to the lift with the bag in claw. He boarded, punched the button, and waited for the device to take him down. The Crusaders approached Rhinoc, grinning. He had to admit, the grins were adorable.

"So, you've got an extra horn?" Scootaloo asked.

Rhinoc nodded. "It was a staple of my old hive, before the Trials of Attrition." He frowned a little, however. "But mine is… still regrowing."

"Regrowing? Were you hurt?" Sweetie asked.

Rhinoc nodded. "Oh yeah. Two separate accidents, too," he said, lifting a hoof to rub the smaller stub on his nose. He lowered his hoof and smiled warmly at the children. "But the good news is I'm getting better. I'll be fully fit before long."

"So could you tell us about the airships?" Sweetie Belle asked, prancing in place. "We already know about the Scylla, but these other ones are equally as cool!"

Rhinoc chuckled. "Oh, I got to hear Lance's misadventures in Equestria from Armin…" His grin widened. "Ah, most of it was good…" He shook his head to get out of the reminiscence, and lifted a hoof to gesture to the current ship they stood in. "Well, this ship is a cargo vessel… or she was, before she had her own accidents, used to transport goods to the Aerie. We would take that cargo to other provinces, but…" He sighed. "I'm sure you've heard about the rest of Fantasia not liking us too much, right?"

The Crusaders nodded. Katie and Lazarus's spieling was still somewhat fresh in their minds. "Yeah, we heard about the victim shaming and the heads in the sand," Scootaloo answered, frowning. "Was Fantasia always like that?"

Rhinoc shook his head. "I dunno when the worrying tendencies started, though. I'm not exactly a time traveler," he replied. "But I do know they've been around since I was a grub."

"In fact, that was what got everygryph geased to begin with—" Here, Red Barrel held up her claws and pantomimed two gryphons having a chat as she spoke, "—the old leaders went 'it's just one pony, what could he possibly do?' 'Oh I don't know, but we should take him on easily!'" Her claws went up in the air and waved rather dramatically, "Next thing we know, we're embroiled in war, our old leaders are dead, and every week turned into hell."

At this point, Red Barrel grasped the air as though it offended her, and she gesticulated wildly as she continued, "Then they turned into wraiths the instant the Trials of Attrition were done with, and demanded that we go back to the way things were before they got canned in temporary cells until the Iron Hold got built, where we promptly hurled them with their beaks muzzled shut. And the bastards are staying there until we can figure out what to do with them." When she finished ranting with both claws sliding down her face and clutching her braids along their descent, she sighed. If she had wings to droop, they'd have touched the floor as the Crusaders turned to her. "Needless to say, head-in-the-sand management is strictly outlawed here."

The Crusaders jotted that tidbit down, seeing the logic of that law. It would make sense that the Aerie wouldn't want a repeat of that fiasco, especially so early in its relatively short life. "And the punishments for that kind of 'management' are harsh, I assume?" Katie asked.

Red Barrel nodded, letting go of her braids and setting her claws back on the ground. "About as harsh as foal neglect, abuse, and the forbidden magic that contributed a lot to the Trials of Attrition," she said. She gave Rhinoc a look that screamed 'some idiot shot their mouth off already, and we've yet to find him' when he glanced at her with a withering stare. Rhinoc sighed, nodded, and backed off.

The golden gryphon piped up, "That reminds me, are the children allowed to see the charging machines?"

Rhinoc pondered for a moment, his frown going a wee bit lopsided as he weighed the question. "Considering they're out of commission, not on this vessel unless they want to stick close to Blue Crow. Lance would murderize us if they had any accidents that gave these three so much as a gash on the hoof," he said carefully, gesturing to the Crusaders. "But I think they'd do wonders seeing your particular ship, Golden Chalice."

Golden Chalice nodded. "Alright. Let Blue Crow know we're aboard the Deluxe Magnum whenever he finishes with the repairs here." With that, she moved to shepherd the foals and wraith outside the ship, with Rose Windmill and Red Barrel flanking her.

"Deluxe Magnum?" Sweetie Belle asked. "That sounds like a personal ship."

"It is, but she's also a war machine," Golden Chalice said, smiling faintly as they trooped down the gangplank. "Though she doesn't see much use in war these days."

"Are there any wars happening in Fantasia?" Apple Bloom asked as the group began trotting past airships and planes galore. Goodness, the Aerie had a lot of magitek on its plate; no wonder they had changelings and gryphons managing it. It was probably its own division at this rate.

Golden Chalice shook her head. "Not at the moment, no. We might be expecting some in the future, but mostly Fantasia's been quiet," she replied, her smile falling as she lead the trio past a few more airships.

"Besides, if war was happening, we'd probably be in the thick of it," Red Barrel pointed out. "Y'know, standard war stuff, blasting the enemy to smithereens and all that 'fun' stuff." She winced as 'fun' rolled off her tongue, and lifted a claw to rub the back of her head awkwardly. "Comes part and parcel with being one of the best magitek pilots my generation has seen yet."

It was at that moment, as they passed another airship, that the ghost with a cutie mark showed her head, phasing out of the airship they were coming towards and plopping her ghostly hooves on the floor with a friendly smile on her face. The gryphons raised their brows, Katie groaned, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle looked towards Apple Bloom, who nodded and smiled back at the ghost. "Okay, Ruby, what the hell are you doing?" Katie asked, her voice flat and her eyes slightly narrowed.

Ruby maintained her chipper smile even as she turned to the wraith. A shade of worry passed over her ethereal face, Apple Bloom noted. "Just exploring, why?" she replied.

"Have you tinkered with anything you're not supposed to?" Katie continued, seeming somewhat annoyed. She relaxed when Ruby shook her head.

"No, no, that green-maned weirdo pulled me aside and told me not to touch anything I wasn't familiar with. She also said something about being one of the first ghosts to be here, so…" Ruby rubbed the back of her head with a hoof. "She also told the others to not touch anything until she gets our… living situation sorted out."

"So, what happened to Sunnytown?" Apple Bloom asked.

Ruby shrugged. "I was told to steer clear of it last night, because things would get… messy," she said. "For who, I don't really know…" She frowned. "Next thing I know, this… goat-faced thing shows up, tells me not to worry about Sunnytown anymore, and asks me if I'd like to live somewhere else. That's how I got here."

The Crusaders looked at Katie. "How bad did it get?" Scootaloo asked.

Katie wilted a bit. "Some… re-deaths, I guess you'd call them, but then Anna remembered she had a mouth and decided to use it," she replied. "And she used it before she needed to use the full brunt of her power anyway, which… I consider it a win."

"So, somewhat bad?" Sweetie Belle asked.

Katie nodded. "Somewhat bad," she replied. She turned to Golden Chalice. "So, about the Deluxe Magnum…"

Golden Chalice smiled, and indicated the ship that Ruby ghosted her way out of. "Just right there, actually," she said. She trotted ahead, seeing the gangplank had been lowered, and strode inside, waving the others over with a claw. They followed, taking a moment to behold the airship. Outside, she was built of sturdy wood and metal, painted with some golds and silvers but not enough to indicate its namesake from an external view. The underside was lined with hatches galore, more than most of the other airships present in fact.

The first indicator of the namesake came from the gangplank itself. Its interior was lined with a plush rug, seemingly scratch-resistant as there was nary a hole to be seen. It was an inch or so away from the gangplank's edges, but favored coppers and golds and silvers in its coloration, with a motif that centered around clouds and the sun and moon sharing the skies. It was soft to the touch, molding around claws and hooves without imprinting them onto its surface, the fibers tickling frogs and talons alike.

"Goodness, Rarity would love to have one of these for the Boutique," Sweetie Belle said, even as she trotted up the gangplank with the others.

"I think it might be making it easier on my bones," Katie chirped, wings buzzing. The Crusaders looked at her.

"Have you been hurting just walking this whole time?" Sweetie asked.

Katie wilted, and sheepishly nodded. "Have been, since I somehow got unsealed, in fact," she muttered. "Kinda comes part and parcel with… well, being like this."

"So how have you been walking, if you're in aches and pains on the daily?" Red Barrel asked, turning to look at the wraithling somewhat incredulously.

"Just been forcing myself to, really," Katie answered with a shrug. "How else would I get around?"

Rose Windmill leaned in to whisper to Red Barrel. "That autopsy can't come fast enough," she muttered. Red Barrel nodded in agreement as she and the others entered the ship proper.

Exclamations of awe rose from the children; the inside was as fancy as anything they had seen in Canterlot, with walls painted in marble white with fancy ottomans, cushion-lined chairs and silk-dressed tables and even a china cabinet fitted with some of the fanciest dishes and silverware they had laid eyes on. All furnishings were firmly bolted down, and reinforced with yet more steel and runes whose meaning eluded the Crusaders.

It had a set of stairs stationed opposite of the gangplank, going both up and down, and the floor and stairs were lined with a fancy carpet boasting navy blues and silver stars as its motif. The windows were sturdy and thick, and each glass pane was reinforced with steel and runic writing etched on its surface. To one side sat a simple kitchen, walled off with clear and reinforced glass that showed off its crystal-studded kitchen apparel. The ceiling was lined with more crystals acting as lights, protected by domes of glass arranged into the shape of the moon complete with craters, providing a gentle glow over the whole interior of the living quarters.

Inside, seated at a table with a cup of brewed tea already prepared, was Golden Chalice. She smiled as she rose from the seat after sipping the rest of the tea in the cup and setting it down. "Now then, are we prepared?" she asked. The trio nodded, and followed her as she moved to the stairs and trotted on the ones heading downward. Katie went with them, leaving Ruby, Red Barrel, and Rose Windmill to sit at the table and have themselves a nice chat.

Downstairs boasted some strange-looking magitek, configured into towers that rose from floor to ceiling, studded with glowing crystals that favored reds, golds, greens and blues that made the room glow in a dazzling rainbow. The floor and ceiling were fitted with bulky wires crossing between them every which-way they could, in a manner that kept one end of the room to the other unobstructed. At the end stood a collection of satellite dishes stacked atop one another, connected to a firm tower framework with an antenna poking out of the top. Every ounce of this room was decorated in runes, all seeming to connect to each other and the crystals as well as the tower of satellites.

Apple Bloom's eyes twinkled as she studied the magitek. "So this is the charging room?" she asked. "How does it work?"

Golden Chalice indicated to the crystals with a claw. "These crystals power the machinery; naturally magical on their own, but volatile if mishandled. They do not require a constant charge, only needing a full-scale recharge every year and a half or so," she said, smiling as she indicated to the pile of satellite dishes at the far end of the room. "When the charging occurs, that tower acts as a conduit to guide the charging magic towards the crystals, enabling them to power the machinery to begin with."

Scootaloo poked at one of the wires. "And these things?"

"Those lead further down into the airship's underside through a series of holes in the floor. Those redirect power from the crystals and are used to fuel the various cannons whenever the need to fight arises and the General wishes for the poor bastards to become tiny chunks on the battlefield," Golden Chalice explained, her claw lifting up to indicate the wires on the ceiling. "The ones overhead, meanwhile, head further up into the airship, to power the balloon, the kitchen, the bathroom, and to help make steering the rudder easier."

"So what do the cannons do?" Apple Bloom asked, turning to Golden Chalice with a frown. "And how many are there?"

"Fifty or so cannons, arranged in a formation that spares room and keeps them from clustering too tightly together. They are connected with a myriad of crystals and wire, and can do various things—fire beams, if you want to burn something, electrical beams for when you want to imitate lightning strikes, ice beams for if you want to freeze something, and earth beams for if you want to do some light terraforming," Golden Chalice answered, her smile falling. "It can also fire off light and darkness, but I have rarely seen the need to use those particular elements."

Golden Chalice turned around, and shepherded the trio and wraith upstairs, and further up towards a higher floor of the airship. This floor boasted a bedroom, with everything bolted firmly down and the carpet motif favoring dawn-based colors. The bed was plush, the room fitted with more windows, and the few wires present were anchored to the sides of some columns that held them ramrod straight even as they snaked their way to the next floor up. At the other end of the room boasted a lift, but besides that the bedroom held standard furnishings for a fancy ship. In one corner, walled with opaque glass stood a bathroom with standard equipment, albeit with fuzzy rugs and towels for drying off.

The group of five went to the lift, boarded it, and punched the button to be taken up. When they reached the next room, they were met with more strange magitek: a control panel with several screens, hooked to a steering wheel and fitted with radios. Levers dotted the area, though they kept themselves somewhat centered on the control panel. "What are the screens for?" Scootaloo asked.

"They display everything happening around the airship. Above, below, side to side… it doesn't matter—there's a camera everywhere where there needs to be one. It makes for parking the airship a far easier task than it would normally be," Golden Chalice said, grinning. "Makes aiming towards any enemies far easier than simply firing blind and hoping for the best, as well." She trotted over and typed on some keys, and at once the screens came to life and displayed the surrounding hangar. She waved the four over, and they trotted right to her to get a better view of the screens.

"Cool!" Apple Bloom squealed, the twinkle in her eyes growing as she beheld the magitek. "This is a lot fancier than anything I've seen! Who built this stuff anyway?"

Golden Chalice giggled as she patted Apple Bloom on the head. "Believe it or not, the ancient cats were the first technologically-advanced race to emerge on Fantasia," she said, smiling. "This magitek… in fact, all the magitek here derives itself from ancient feline-based blueprints and designs; the only reason we have this technology on this scale is because of NoLegs."

The Crusaders looked at her, eyes widening and jaws threatening to unhinge. "NoLegs? As in the blue fuzzy cat?" Sweetie Belle asked, somewhat disbelieving what her ears had caught.

Golden Chalice nodded. "One and the same. In fact, he's a major part of this army, believe it or not," she said with a smirk. "The only other ones who figured out the tech and could keep pace in the ancient days were the gryphons and hippogryphs, before Faust weakened them and took away the Fantasian cats' legs prior to Her sealing." She patted the steering wheel gently with her free claw. "But it seems the trait resurfaced in me and my wingless fellows, which is what allowed us to help free our brethren when they were being forcibly controlled."

The trio wasted no time jotting the information down. Katie chuckled, seeing the enthusiasm for their project reemerging as the lead scribbled down on the paper with glee. "So, your teacher," she said once the lead halted for more than a full minute. That got the trio to look at her. "You think she'll be awestruck once we're done with this shiding?"

"She might have a few questions, yeah, but…" Scootaloo trailed off, frowning as she mulled it over.

Katie shrugged. "Well, that's par for the course," she pointed out. "You're in foreign lands getting top-notch info from those directly responsible for this city-state's existence. Wouldn't surprise me if she asked how Lance retains his title, all things considered." Her wings buzzed as she added, "That said, this is a rare opportunity; how could you be blamed for taking full advantage of it?"

The Crusaders considered that, idly nodded, and smiled. "Cheerilee's probably going to be kicking her hooves off the ceiling once we turn this in," Sweetie chirped, her smile widening at the thought. One-upping Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon would be a nice cherry on top of the proverbial neapolitan milkshake.

"We're gonna be making copies of it, too," Scootaloo added, her own wings buzzing. "I don't know about you guys, but if the head of the school board finds out about this, she might shred our assignments."

Katie's brow climbed up her forehead. "Why?" she questioned.

Scootaloo's wings halted, and she frowned again. "You haven't met the head of the school board, have you?" she asked. When Katie shook her head, she sighed. "Well… rich, snobbish, all about her… she probably wouldn't tolerate anything to do with Fantasia, either." Her frown deeped as she added, "Especially if we one-up her daughter, Diamond Tiara, with this assignment." That came with too much nodding from the other two.

Katie nodded as well, seeing the logic behind making backups. "And the type to order my head above her fireplace, if word got out that I was at Ponyville," she concluded.

The Crusaders shared looks, then shrugged. "Or just probably banished to the moon," Sweetie said, frowning as well. "With your mug, you might ruin her fine carpets and decor—no offense."

Katie shrugged. "Eh, not the first time I heard that. None taken," she replied. "And how do you know she's rich?"

"She flaunts her wealth, thinking it puts her on par with the Canterlot elite," Sweetie Belle answered. "That is, when she bothers to show her face for Family Appreciation Day at all. Or when she wants to lecture the class on letting her daughter bully us, because she's better than us or something like that. And every time Cheerilee stands up to her, she threatens to fire her for insubordination."

Katie's brow furrowed. "Sounds to me like she's got a punchable face," she muttered. "Unfortunately, I might end up breaking my entire leg on it, so I'll leave the face punching to someone… more healthy and capable than I am."

Golden Chalice clapped her claws together, a wicked gleam in her eye. "That aside… I heard you three wanted to earn your cutie marks?" she asked, causing the three children to look at her.

"Yeah. We wanted to try for magitek pilot cutie marks," Scootaloo said, the first to notice the evil glint in Golden Chalice's blue eyes. "And we got permission from Matt, so…"

Golden Chalice donned an absolutely diabolical smirk. "Excellent," she said.

Katie's ears swiveled bolt upright at this development. "Oh here we go…" she muttered.

Golden Chalice gathered the three in her claws, making sure not to scratch them even slightly. "How do you say you assist Blue Crow and the others once the repairs on the cargo ship are done?" she asked.

The trio, seeing what she was getting at, assumed diabolical smirks in turn. "You're on!" they replied in tandem, causing Katie to roll her orbs and shake her head. With that, they raced to the lift, and waited for Golden Chalice and Katie to follow them. When all were boarded, the button was punched and everyone was taken down to the bedroom.

Trotting right through it and downstairs yielded an interesting sight. It seemed that at some point, Blue Crow joined the party, sighing as he explained something to Ruby while Red Barrel and Rose Windmill's foreheads were pressed into the table. "Well, you see, the last ghost sighting on Fantasia took place only a year after the Royale Catastrophe, though so far nothing has been confirmed," he said.

Ruby looked downcast. Her glowing eyes were slanted, and she had a frown etched on her face. "And how could ponies let the Catastrophe play out as it did?" she asked sincerely.

Blue Crow slumped a bit. "Well… when you're a cutie markless pony, you can't exactly fight off giant swords raining from the sky and massive comets of hellfire so easily, can you?" he retorted. When Ruby shook her head, he said, "Exactly. It may be haunted for all we know, but nobody's had a solid reason to visit the site of the Catastrophe yet. It's probably for the best, since Matt and Natalie would probably reduce it to less than ash if they visited again."

It was at that moment, Red Barrel lifted her head and glanced at the stairs to find Golden Chalice looking at the conversation with a raised brow. She pointed at Ruby. "This ghost foal has as many questions as Lance's adopted kid," she muttered. "Some, we're not sure how to answer." With that, her forehead returned to the table in short order.

Golden Chalice decided to halt the questionnaire before Ruby could shoot her ethereal mouth off. She trotted to the table and whispered her plan in the ears of her wingless compatriots. Two heads rose as she concluded, and Blue Crow's frown turned lopsided as the details were relayed to him. When she finished with that, she looked at Ruby and asked, "Are you able to fly, in a fashion?"

Ruby nodded, her frown fading a little. "I just don't like to fly too high, though. I've never had a reason to," she said with a shrug.

"Hrm… do you have good eyesight?" Golden Chalice pressed.

Ruby nodded. She angled her body to show off her cutie mark. "It's how I got this," she said.

Golden Chalice grinned. "Excellent. We'll need you for something," she said, trotting around to her to whisper the details in her ear. Ruby's ghostly ears twitched as she got fed the details, and she nodded once she was given the gist of things.

Blue Crow stood up, followed by Red Barrel and Rose Windmill. "Is everyone ready?" he asked, turning to the Crusaders. They grinned and nodded. "Alright, time to kick things into gear. Scootaloo, with me. Apple Bloom, with Red Barrel. Sweetie Belle, with Rose Windmill." With that, they broke into formation and marched out of the Deluxe Magnum, with each Crusader pairing up with their assigned pilot. Golden Chalice, Ruby, and Katie stayed behind to oversee the whole thing.

Apple Bloom was prancing as she and the others trotted all the way to the exposed front of the hangar, where three distinct planes sat. A blue one stood to the left, a single pair of wings with turbines on the underside and mounted with odd magitek sticking out the tops of those wings, rune-etched and glimmering faintly. A red one that sat in the middle had two stacked wings with the same magitek affixed between the pairs and, though they couldn't see it from where they stood, a propeller slapped to the front.

The last one, a shade of maroon that was sitting to the right, had a stack of three wings, with two pairs of that same magitek and another propeller slapped on the front. Each plane had enough seating for a pilot and a passenger, fitted with radios and goggles and scarves. In addition, each plane had reinforced glass domes that sat open, framed by steel and further reinforced with runes. Each plane also had a steering wheel and control panels, making them fit for flying in Lance's military.

Blue Crow trotted to his plane, hopped in, and rummaged around for a bit before producing a set of three cameras, all with a single note taped to them and wrapped up in a pretty pink ribbon. "How'd this get here?" he asked, looking at the note with a raised brow.

"Well, what's it say?" Red Barrel asked, tilting her head.

Blue Crow cleared his throat. "'I figured out you might want some pictures to be taken from the skies, so I managed to get the bestest cameras the army had for your school project. You better come back to the party when you're done up there, though. Signed, Pinkie Pie. P.S., yes, I learned that the higher-ups and their frenemies and sisters got their marks from really awful things, but that's still not a cause to avoid celebrating them, as they can use their talents for good,'" he said.

That got a roll of the eyes from Rose Windmill. "I'm starting to think Pinkie has eyes everywhere," she said.

Scootaloo nodded. "You don't know the half of it," she agreed.

Regardless, Blue Crow decided to just roll with it, which the Crusaders regarded as a wise decision since Pinkie's antics were involved. He undid the ribbon, handed each Crusader a camera, and put Scootaloo on his back. Red Barrel and Rose Windmill did the same with their assigned Crusaders, and without delay they boarded the planes to strap in and prepare for another adventure of trying to get their cutie marks.

Fun was bound to be had, regardless of success and failure. Indeed, it would lead to a most unexpected result over the rest of the week.

Fourth Day, Morning—Uncomfortable Queries

The mess hall was abuzz with activity; everyone talked about the mass cute-ceañera that had taken place the day before. The Sunnytowners and Greenwood ex-villagers didn't partake much in the conversation, opting to just sit by in their own corners and ride it out. The guests of honor also kept to themselves, hoping to draw little attention their way. Of course, with four of them running the military, and one related to one of said four by blood, it didn't go exactly as they hoped it would.

Regardless, though, it seemed the newcomers were integrating nicely, despite keeping to themselves. Furthermore, they hadn't said anything about cutie marks as of yet, so there was some hope that maybe they'd come around soon. If nothing else, nobody had stirred the trouble pot yet over the matter, which was a nice bonus.

The Crusaders ate their food without a fuss, with Katie beside them doing likewise. Their eyes were on an older stallion at their table, sporting a beard and eyes that seemed as though life was recently breathed into their green pools, with thin legs and tired old bones that demanded rest. Also at the table, covered partially in wood and vines for some reason, was a baby in a high seat, beating his strangely wooden wings and drinking formula from a bottle.

Sweetie Belle decided to ask about the tyke. "Is he okay?" she asked.

Katie nodded. "As okay as… you can expect a blind foal to be, after all he's been through," she said tactfully. "I'm not sure we can talk about the plant matter covering him at the table, though," she added, turning to look the older stallion in his eyes as she said that.

The elder nodded. "That… and Greenwood's new leader probably would slap me with a rolling pin if I tried anything," he muttered with a wince. The baby put the bottle down and squirmed, making faces until he was picked up out of his high chair and burped. Once burped, the baby was returned to his high chair, and he looked around despite the very heavy gray fog in his eyes with ears perked and attentive.

"Greenwood has a new leader?" Apple Bloom asked. Katie nodded and gestured all the way up to where Anna and her cohorts sat.

"Only one up there with wood on her legs," Katie said bluntly.

Apple Bloom nodded. "And I take it that was a mess and a half?" she asked.

Katie nodded again. "It involved the old leaders being buried, let's put it like that," she said. She flinched when a smoking seed the size of a hoof hit her on the side of her head from above, landed on the table, and puffed up into crimson-green smoke in front of her.

"Where'd that come from?" Sweetie Belle asked. Katie sighed.

"You don't want to know," the wraithling answered.

"So… what's the baby's name?" Scootaloo asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Timber Spruce. Anna named him," Katie answered, turning to the baby as he squealed at something at the edge of the table.

"Did the doctors look at him?" Sweetie Belle asked, turning to their chaperone.

Katie shrugged. "If they had, I wouldn't have heard much," she replied honestly. Timber Spruce turned to her and squealed again, flailing his forelegs in her direction.

"Timber Spruce sounds like an Equestrian name…" Sweetie crossed her forelegs and contemplated the information she had been given about the baby in question. "Are you sure Anna doesn't have Mythonian somewhere in her family tree?"

Katie shook her head. "Pretty positive she doesn't. We have magitek that tests for lineage or things like that, I think," she said with another noncommittal shrug.

Twilight trotted over to the table and sat down on the other side of Timber Spruce, who turned in her direction and burbled. She gently patted the baby on his head with a hoof, and turned to the Crusaders. "How's the report coming along?" she asked.

Sweetie grinned. "We got it halfway done!" she chirped. "We can show it to you when—" She stopped when Twilight teleported out of the mess hall, then straight back in again with the stack of papers for the report.

"Oh don't worry, I got you three covered," Twilight said with a smile.

Katie snorted. "You're not gonna red ink the hell out of it, are you?" she asked, a hint of suspicion in her tone. Twilight shook her head.

"No, I'll just make pointers on a paper of my own if I find anything wrong," Twilight answered, and began perusing the budding report with a slow, calculated grace. "Hrm… hrm… oh… oh… mm-hmm… just what I expected it to look like…"

Katie turned to the trio. "Does she ever do this with your homework?" she muttered.

Scootaloo shook her head, the motion echoed by her friends. "Not like this, even if we did ask nicely enough," she replied.

Twilight shuffled the papers and began reading the next page. The elder turned to her and piped up, "What's all this hubbub?"

"Just making sure this school report is foal-friendly," Twilight answered nonchalantly. "We Mythonians make sure everypony gets an education, regardless of gender or social class or potential disabilities." The elder's eyes widened at this, bewilderment shining within their pools at the concept.

"That's… that's unlike anything Greenwood ever did, beyond teaching the mares… what was considered valuable…" the elder muttered.

"What was valuable over there?" Scootaloo asked.

"The kitchen," Katie said bluntly. "And only the kitchen." She turned to look at the Crusaders with her eyes slightly narrowed. "Or at least… that's what I assume. I'd ask Anna for details, but I'm pretty sure she'd tie me into a pretzel for asking."

Sweetie frowned. "Did she come from Greenwood?" she asked. Katie nodded. "Because if Greenwood really did see mares as valuable as kitchens, then I'm not sure I should be talking to ponies who think like that. Rarity hates those types of communities, even more when they refuse to let anypony out, and I think she'd have something to say about that."

Katie wilted a bit. "She already gave her opinion on the matter the night before you three came here. As for how Anna left Greenwood, I don't know," she replied. "And I have a feeling I don't want to know either way."

In the time they spoke, Twilight flipped to another page of the report. She was grinning at what she saw, and the Crusaders noticed she hadn't taken out a quill or additional paper of any sort. She teleported away, and returned without the report. She looked at the trio with a smile. "It seems you've done a good job with the report so far. The illustrations you've made are detailed, but not to the point of excessiveness, and you have written enough to avoid spilling particularly sensitive information. Though, I do have one criticism, besides the fact it is unfinished," she said.

Scootaloo frowned. "What's the criticism?" she asked.

"Specifically, the fact that crusading, as in what you've been trying to do for your cutie marks, is mentioned in the report. Is that what really went down?" Twilight asked, her smile inverting. Glumly, the trio nodded.

"Yeah. The Royale Catastrophe went down because ponies still crusaded for their cutie marks. We heard this from… the ponies who wound up making the Catastrophe happen to begin with," Sweetie answered, ears flopping downward as a horrible memory reel replayed in her head until she cast it out. "They really didn't earn their cutie marks until that point."

Twilight's frown remained in place, but it did not deepen at all at the troubling news. "I see…" she muttered somewhat uncomfortably.

Katie stretched her forelegs over her head. "So, do you three think you might earn your cutie marks today?" she asked, turning to the trio.

Scootaloo rubbed a hoof against her chin, contemplating the question. "I dunno… and what would they look like if we got them here?" she muttered, wings buzzing as she thought. Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom donned similar expressions, each of them trying to picture what their marks would possibly look like if they got them here.

"Have you three considered what you're good at?" Katie prodded, popping some bones in her forelegs before setting them back down on the table.

The Crusaders idly nodded, but didn't seem to have heard the question. Or at least, that's what the wraithling had assumed until they began thinking out loud. "Rarity said I have a good musical ear and I can read music really well, and maybe I just need to try something like a flute or a harp or something…" Sweetie Belle muttered.

"Applejack said I was good at building things at the last family reunion…" Apple Bloom muttered, rubbing the side of her head with a hoof.

"Rainbow says I'm really fast, but maybe my innate magic just needs something else to make it work…" Scootaloo mumbled, wings halting their buzzing as she tilted her head. As they sat there lost in thought, they started mentally preparing for another day of potentially remaining blank flanks, shuddering at the inevitable torment that Diamond Tiara would dish out upon their return to the school should they return in such a state.

The three then turned to their undead chaperone. "You think we could get our cutie marks here?" they chorused, uncertainty in their eyes.

Katie's orbs twinkled enigmatically, and she tilted her head. "I think so. If nothing else, you might have some ideas for crusading here in the future," she replied. She gestured to where the higher-ups sat and added, "If they can get their cutie marks, which they have, on a planet not particularly known for that sort of thing, you can too." She leveled a hoof on Apple Bloom's withers. "It's just a matter of finding that spark, and using it."

The Crusaders grinned at the encouragement. "Do you think we could practice before we see the factory?" Scootaloo asked.

Katie looked up at where the higher-ups sat. She saw Lance spreading his wings and sighed as he dove to hover above their table, his wings keeping him aloft without brushing up against anyone else. "Well… that depends on what you want to crusade for," Lance said, frowning. "Like… singing cutie marks or maybe history-related cutie marks?"

"Instrument-based cutie marks," Sweetie Belle answered.

Scootaloo crossed her forelegs. "Something involving speed," she added.

"Building things," Apple Bloom proffered.

Lance crossed his forelegs, content to continue hovering in the air. "But… do you crusade for all those things at once?" he asked incredulously. He allowed himself to relax when the trio shook their heads to answer. "Alright… you three can practice. Just don't let it turn out like that paraglider incident, okay?"

"We won't let it turn out like the paraglider incident," the Crusaders chorused, grinning. Lance nodded and flew back up to his booth, satisfied for now. Timber Spruce squealed, and beat his wooden claws on his high chair, earning a pat on the head from the elder.

Before anyone else could move, all those in the mess hall heard was, "Daddy, I want to fly!" The Crusaders looked up, and found Lance pulling Maria back into the booth, her claws outstretched and wings beating a mile a minute.

"Not like that, you aren't!" Lance replied firmly, his expression hardening into something that wouldn't tolerate any horseplay. "I don't want you to have a broken neck or something like that!"

"But daaaaaaaaaddy!" Maria hollered, trying to worm out of Lance's grip to no avail.

Katie facehoofed at the sight. "Oh damn it all, not this again…" she grumbled as her hoof slid down the bridge of her snout. Her other hoof joined in when she saw Anna's horn flash, aiding Lance in dragging the young hippogryph back to her seat.

"Mommy! You're supposed to help me!" Maria complained, loud enough for all to hear.

"No. That's final," Anna said, as firmly as Lance. Her expression had, likewise, twisted into something that wouldn't put up with any antics.

The elder sighed, and buried his face into his forelegs. "And she's adopted a foal of her own… somehow, I worry for both her and the child…" he muttered under his breath.

Scootaloo turned to Katie. "Can she fly?" she asked. Katie simply shook her head in response, hooves still firmly on face and ears pinned all the way back.

"Ma'am? Do you need chitil glue?" a soldier called.

"I'm good!" Anna replied, horn still aglow. Timber Spruce squealed in her direction.

Twilight sighed. She turned to the trio. "Yeah… she's a bit of a clawful…" she muttered apologetically, rubbing the back of her head with a hoof.

"Poor filly doesn't even know where to start with her cutie mark, and yet she's already gouged a pony's eyes out…" Katie grumbled into her hooves, quiet enough that the Crusaders couldn't hear her over the ruckus Maria was making.

Apple Bloom turned away from the spectacle as it hushed down, and saw Mitta and Red Barrel coming over to the table. They sat, but seemed engaged in chatter. "So… you're older than me, basically, thanks to a curse that I hear wound up being immortal zombification," Red Barrel said, frowning contemplatively.

Mitta nodded. "By several hundred years, at least," she affirmed. "I just… don't look the part, due to circumstances outside of my control."

Red Barrel crossed her forelegs over her chest. "And how long ago was this curse laid, before the sealing of Faust?" she pressed.

Mitta rubbed a hoof against her other foreleg, ears pinned back as she weighed the question. In seconds, she gave an unhappy answer, "Three centuries before Faust added the atonement clause." She shuddered as she added, "By then… everypony else in Sunnytown more or less embraced the fact that there wouldn't be an out of the curse anyway."

Red Barrel's brow furrowed. "Sunnytown's starting to sound an awful lot like Greenwood, give or take a few things…" she muttered, low enough that Anna couldn't hear her. She turned to the table she sat at, and blushed and winced upon realizing who was in her presence now. "And speaking of the towns in question, I really think we should stop having this discussion about them."

Mitta nodded, also considering the presence of those around her. "So… what do you like most?" she asked.

Red Barrel grinned, big brown eyes sparkling as she began to purr. "I love flying in the sky aboard my plane, even during fighting. It feels… it feels like I belong up there," she answered wistfully, chest feathers puffing up in pride. "Every time I'm airborne, every time I scout the area surrounding the Aerie… it brings back memories."

Golden Chalice trotted over, snickering. Rose Windmill and Blue Crow both flanked her. "There you go again, talking about the sky. I know you're a workaholic, Red Barrel, but you really should take a few days to bring yourself back to ground level," Golden Chalice said with a good-natured smirk on her face.

Red Barrel turned to Golden, still grinning. "But don't you enjoy flying too, Goldilocks?" she teased.

Golden Chalice's smirk widened, though not in a smug way. "Yes, I will readily admit as much. However, you take it to new heights, even for a mostly skybound military force," she replied, with some snickering from Rose Windmill.

Red Barrel elbowed Golden Chalice in the shoulder, still grinning. "Is that such a bad thing?" she asked.

"Only if you don't take it easy every once in a while," Golden Chalice teased, elbowing her fellow pilot in the shoulder as well.

"Oh come on, Goldi, we both know I take it easy some days!" Red Barrel mock-complained.

"Only because I have to pry you away from your plane with a mechanical drone every day of the week!" Lance called from his table, to much snickering from the other soldiers that were present.

Red Barrel took the snickering in good stride, and turned back to the Crusaders with a somewhat cheeky grin. "So, how did you three fancy your ride yesterday?"

Scootaloo beamed. "It was awesome!" she answered, wings beating for a moment as the words left her mouth. "That was even higher than that trip we took to Cloudsdale!"

Red Barrel's smile fell, just a little. "Cloudsdale?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Cloud city in Mythos," Sweetie Belle hastily explained. Fortunately, Red Barrel didn't press for further information, and opted to nod instead.

"And it's pretty high up," Apple Bloom added. "Higher than the peak of Canterlot's mountain, and you gotta get there by airship or hot air balloon."

"Do I take it that pegasi live there?" Blue Crow guessed, garnering a nod from the three.

"And they control Equestria's weather," Scootaloo piped up, grinning.

Blue Crow lifted a claw and held it to his chin, rubbing thoughtfully. "Controlling weather… I wonder…" he muttered, eyes drifting upwards as thought overtook him.

The Crusaders shared glances. Katie proceeded to speak up, "Yeah… about that…" She lifted a hoof and gestured around as the trio turned to her. "Have you noticed any weather-based structures here, like you have in Equestria?"

The trio tilted their heads for a moment, then shook in unison. "Do you guys even know how to control the weather?" Scootaloo asked.

Katie shook her head. "Haven't really seen many weather-based shenanigans here that aren't any form of trouble from the ectoplasms that run rampant," she said with a shrug.

"Ectoplasms? You mean those little pixie things in the sky that control weather where pegasi don't fly?" Apple Bloom asked.

Katie nodded. "Those little buggers," she replied simply. "It's worse if they merge to become giant lightning sprites." The trio shuddered at the mention, but it quickly went away when they remembered that, insofar as they knew, lightning sprites didn't really have much of a foothold in the Aerie compared to the slimes.

Scootaloo shared glances with Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom. "Do you think the Aerie has a protocol for ectoplasms?" she asked.

Lance proceeded to throw in his two bits from the table, using the megaphone this time, "The only protocol we have regarding ectoplasms is 'kill 'em all.'"

Scootaloo sighed and turned to Katie. "But everypony in Equestria knows that ectoplasms just come straight back after a few weeks. They keep coming back no matter how much you try to get rid of them…" she muttered.

Katie put a hoof to her chin and rubbed it contemplatively. "That sounds particularly annoying… funny thing, I know exactly how that feels for those who've tried to kill me permanently, thanks to immortality…" she said, to none in particular. "Sometimes unlife just plain sucks."

A boom of thunder echoed in from outside, though it wasn't strong enough to shake up anything in the Aerie. Scootaloo sighed. "Guess there's no going outside today…" she muttered.

"Hey, at least that means the factory's indoors," Katie chirped. "Less chance of lightning strikes that way."

"And if we do get a lightning strike, the power won't black out," Rose Windmill added, still wearing the easygoing smile she sported the day before. "As I like to see it, that's how the ectoplasms say 'howdy do.'"

"Wait, the power won't black out if lightning hits?" Scootaloo asked, turning to Rose Windmill with a brow raised.

Rose Windmill nodded, closing her eyes as she answered cheerfully, "Nope. We have special lightning rods in place that redirect the strikes to charge some of our more powerful magitek, even though the charges are mostly miniscule. We store the excess energy from the strikes we don't use most of the time."

Scootaloo smiled. "That's cool! Sounds like something Cloudsdale would do, even if they didn't make their own thunderstorms," she said, brimming at the thought. She turned to her own wings, and her smile turned wistful. Maybe if she could harness the energy of her wings another way…

Blue Crow smiled. "I see that your inner hamster wheels are kicking into overdrive. I remember when I was a chick and my brain was bursting at the seams with ideas... " he said, his eyes and grin radiating genuine warmth as he looked back on his happier, carefree days of youth and innocence. Scootaloo and the others turned to him, wondering what was on his mind.

"So… um…" Apple Bloom frowned as she considered how best to ask the question on her tongue, without coming off as insensitively ignorant. "I heard a little bit about the old gryphon leaders… did they do anything to you because you were born wingless?"

Immediately, Blue Crow's smile fell, and darkness swam in his eyes as the question hit him. His companions' expressions likewise darkened a bit, and all four sets of shoulders slumped. "Believe me, they gave us a lot of flak for that, and even told us we were bottom rung on the pecking order…" Blue Crow answered uneasily, his frown growing perceptibly as darker memories came to once more rip his former childhood innocence away from him. "If we hadn't discovered magitek when we did…" He was silenced when Rose Windmill lifted a claw and firmly clamped it on his beak, her head shaking as she kept her gaze on the trio.

"If you would like to see the old leaders, you are welcome to do so." Golden Chalice's tone of voice was clipped and curt, even as her eyes narrowed slightly. "But I wouldn't recommend it. They still see ponies as… harmless livestock. Easy prey." The trio gulped nervously, and nodded to signify that they understood what she was implying.

Katie sighed. "Racists…" she grumbled under her breath. Her own sockets narrowing, she muttered in a hushed, angry tone, "Could've avoided a whole lot of trouble if those clowns didn't have the whole damn pastures of Fantasia all to themselves…" Her ears drooped as she continued seething in her seat. "Could've avoided a whole lot more if I could actually shapeshift… or had a tank like Lance's Valkyrie to run the whole lot of miserable bastards over with."

"Well, on the plus side, the racists only have their own company in the Iron Hold," Red Barrel piped up, some hope daring to return to her darkened expression and glimmering in her eyes. "Everyone there is in solitary confinement, with soundproof rooms and nobody else to spread their toxic bile to."

Scootaloo looked up somewhat incredulously at Red Barrel. "That sounds… harsh," she said, with the bluntness that only a growing child was capable of.

"Harsh, yes, but racists have had the run of Fantasia for far too long now," Golden Chalice retorted, in a tone brokering no argument. "We were subject to it just because we weren't seen by many of our peers as 'true gryphons' for the 'crime' of being born wingless. I've heard the former changeling Kings and Queens were much the same way, spouting changeling supremacy and all of that." That came with so much nodding from the other soldiers in the mess hall that it was impossible for the trio to tell who wasn't in agreement with the statement. By Tartarus, even the higher rungs in their own booth were nodding in assent.

Which was probably a bad sign for all of Fantasia, if practically everyone actively serving in the military was in agreement. Apple Bloom couldn't see the ponies of Greenwood too well at her current table, but guessed maybe they might have agreed, too.

"Greenwood was like that, too!" Anna piped up, slamming a wooden claw on her table. "I had to take the villagers aside and tell them to leave the racism at the door."

Well, that made everything a little bit worse. One villager of that lot tried to defend himself, "But that's what the elders said was okay! That's what the old leaders touted! What if we get invaded again?"

Anna turned to that villager in a heartbeat, her eyes cold, narrowed, and sparking with contempt. Apple Bloom turned to her upon hearing the sound of wood crackling on her legs. "And they ordered several horrible things, no? The Greenwood Blight ring any bells?" she asked, gesturing to the wood decorating her forelegs. "The three old leaders who trampled all over you, your wife, everypony else's wives, and their sons and daughters? The same terror triplets who trampled over me and my sister with absolutely no help from anypony else, but the single elder who's still alive? The other elders who sat around on their butts and did nothing while all of that was going on?! That house of horrors within Ashwood? That mad stallion who started it all?"

"What would you say, if you had a daughter about my age when everypony found out about my existence, and she had to go through the same things I did? Would you condone their actions, or try to stop them? Because I know where I stand on the issue." Anna's voice grew colder and darker with each word spoken, the weird alphabet on her body briefly glowing as her horn flashed almost imperceptibly, turning blood crimson for the barest of instants. "If you try to defend those whackos, you're no better than them. And we will not tolerate anyone defending those nutjobs here at the Aerie. Is. That. Understood?"

Apple Bloom stood up to try and get a better view of Greenwood's table. She saw a stallion standing, ears pinned back and wilting as he was chastised. Slowly, he sank back down in his seat with a nod, not daring to say another word about the matter except for an almost quiet, "Understood."

"I can't hear you!" Anna barked in an authoritative, militaristic tone that one would expect to be shouted towards a soldier rather than a civilian.

The villager turned up and shouted out, his voice cracking as he replied, "Understood!"

Anna nodded at him and turned to the Crusaders, adding another two bits to them specifically, "Don't. Ask."

The trio nodded, and Apple Bloom sat down, unwilling to question what exactly had gone down for Anna to take on that tone of voice and that darkened expression which promised to lay on the hurt a thousandfold. The only thing she knew was that whoever decided to hurt her must have paid a pretty steep price for the pain and suffering that her tone and words had suggested had ensued, and whatever else that weird alphabet on her body might have implied.

Twilight winced sympathetically as the Crusaders turned to her. "Yeah… just… I've seen enough to not prod the bear…" she muttered. "Let's just say I found one lead into Fantasia's… current state of affairs, and it doesn't look pretty." Fortunately, the children knew better than to press for answers; seeing Ragnarok twice was enough to inform them that it was probably bad ideas all around anyway.

"Remember: no talky-talky in front of Bushels," Katie intoned, lifting her head to look Twilight in her eye and lifting a hoof to make a lip-zipping motion across her face. Twilight nodded, and turned to Timber Spruce as he squealed again.

The elder stallion at the table wilted, looking ashamed of himself. "I can't relay it to the little ones here, right?" he asked.

Katie turned to him and shook her head, making the lip-zipping motion once more. He understood, and kept silent on the matter. Whatever the terribly tragic story behind Greenwood was, the Crusaders mused to themselves, it could wait until they were older and could appreciate the fact that they were lucky compared to Lieutenant-General Windwood.

For now, though, the day ahead waited before them yet, and it wasn't going to sort itself out. They just needed to find someone to escort them through the factory to fill in the report and maybe earn their cutie marks doing it.

Fourth Day, Afternoon Part I—Factory Investigation

The factory of the Aerie was loud and noisy, and as a result the Crusaders and their chaperone could not be allowed inside without the appropriate gear: vests, hardhats, and special earmuffs that muted much of the incessant noise. That was fine by them, as they needed to retain their hearing for the coming days. The vests were a bit too big for even their smallest sizes, but for the job they worked just as well, after a little bit of emergency stitching from Rarity. The hardhats required padding just to be able to fit on the smaller heads, despite the fact that they had perfectly functioning holes for the earmuffs to go into.

Regardless, they were properly suited up, and ready to begin another bout of information hunting, and that was all that mattered at the time. The secondary adult accompanying them, Rhinoc, was leading them through a series of doors and halls that seemed to stretch on for a while. His horn flashed, his magic swept across their eyes for a split-second, and his voice muttered into the heads of the young ones as the latest opened to reveal the expansive factory before them. "Telepathy is particularly important here, as the noise drowns out most other sounds. Here, we communicate by magic, sights, and hoof and claw signals," Rhinoc said telepathically.

The Crusaders grinned, and Sweetie Belle flashed her horn to let her voice echo into Rhinoc's head, "Like this?"

Rhinoc turned to her and smiled, using a hoof to pat the hardhat on her head with a nod. "You're learning, kid," he replied in kind. He swept his hoof out before the factory, where several conveyor belts were processing everything through chutes and doors at a record pace, glimmering with crystals that sparked as they powered them. Mechanical parts that couldn't be easily identified at first went to various wings of the factory, while others jittered and halted in places to let the workers tinker around with them. Others still featured completed machines, undergoing maintenance checks for various ills and malfunctions to see if they could be restored to working order again.

Various tools went hither and thither, again carried by both soldiers and magitek drones, some of whom had special claws in place of their regular drills to carry the heavier equipment. In addition, there were some ground-based drones using treads instead of rotary blades for their method of transport, using extendable eyes on stands to see their surroundings and extendable claws to bring specific tools to specific workers. A few of them came equipped with soldering equipment, and helped carry out maintenance functions on other stretches of the massive factory.

Above much of the factory were securely-railed catwalks going up and down, where safety crew could oversee the goings-on of below, and beneath the conveyors were sturdy grates that one could walk on and see any maintenance that took place further down from those vantage points. The chaperones and Crusaders were standing on one of the catwalks, looking around to see if there were any signs denoting exits and the like, like they had seen back in Equestria whenever they were out of town.

There were a few such signs present, all lit up with crystals, hanging over doors and catwalks and used to denote what was where. As they were at one entrance out of a probable many, the one they stood on had a sign pointing twice in left and right, as well as the distance needed to get there. One led to a safety station on the left, and further past them was another mess hall, probably for those who had deigned fit to bring their lunches here instead of going to the much larger mess hall up above.

To the right, however, were two curious things: 'computer room,' at roughly five-thousand yards of distance or something equivalent, and seven-thousand-five-hundred yards past that was a 'control room.' The Crusaders looked in both directions, and found the catwalk on both sides was forking deeper into the factory, with yet more signs leading elsewhere into the den of magitek and machinations.

Naturally, with so many available paths to take, and only so many hours in the day to cram the information into their report, they turned to Rhinoc for some sort of explanation. He returned the looks with a warm smile and patted their helmets, doing the same for Katie when she looked at him in somewhat of a pout.

Rhinoc's horn flashed, and he telepathically said, "Since this factory is huge, even for us, I'll take you to the most important parts of its catwalks: the scrap sorting, the construction of the magitek, the implantation of the crystals we use to charge and operate every working bit of magitek, and the control room. How's that sound?" When he was met with smiles and beaming eyes, he grinned and turned left to start leading them upon the catwalk that would take them to the most important parts of the factory.

At the first fork, Rhinoc turned to the right and kept trotting briskly, whistling a jaunty tune he could barely hear through his noise mufflers. He did glance briefly behind his hocks to check and see if everyone was following him, and so far, they were, albeit taking the time to admire the factory's scenery with every second and third glance.

This stretch of catwalk was long, but a sign that read 'scrap sorting' at seven-thousand yards helpfully guided the group straight ahead, and into the path of a few more passing workers. A changeling who also had a purple carapace and a much smaller stub-horn on the snout flashed her horn and asked Rhinoc, "What's with the kiddos?"

Rhinoc replied, "School report. Lance insisted I show them around here, since the nooblet's new here." He indicated the wraithling and added, "Otherwise she'd be lost trying to give them the nickel tour, since I'm pretty sure she might not be able to read." The worker nodded to signal her understanding, trotted over to the trio and wraithling, patted their helmeted heads, and went on her way with a lunchbox strapped to her back that rustled with the muted sound of contained food.

Sweetie Belle flashed her horn to ask Rhinoc, "Are they going to be doing that a lot?" Rhinoc shrugged to answer, and continued on the way to the scrap pile. The trio-plus-wraith traded glances, shrugged at one another, and trotted along to keep pace with him. A few more workers did give them odd looks, but didn't really press their more physically grown changeling escort for answers after he flashed his horn and his aura enveloped their heads for a split second.

As long as they could trust Rhinoc to more or less keep the band of kiddos in line, then who were they to complain? At least it wasn't anything they considered particularly hush-hush either, if their flashing horns and hoof and claw signals meant anything as they traded their pseudo-verbal banter.

Another drone flitted by to scan them, but as with the one in the slime ranch, it gave them the OK to continue onwards. After that, the drones more or less let them be as they continued their march towards the scrap heap. It wasn't long after that when they began seeing the first signs of the pile: stage lights lining the area, shining in the direction they were trotting towards, with little scraps of metal here and there lining the catwalk and everything below it. They had to be careful to avoid puncturing their frogs on the miniscule shrapnel, but thanks to the lights it was an easy feat to perform.

The second sign was the vast melting pots and furnaces, and the immense heat they gave off as they melted scrap and converted the metal bits into a more usable, durable form. There were vents above the furnaces and melting pots, and massive fans studded with crystals that redirected the heat elsewhere to avoid overheating the factory. Ingots were cast, hardening in moments with a new, supple, shiny finish to their bodies that they might have lacked in their previous forms. There were more than a few workers checking them for faults and the like as they did their own march on the conveyor belts to elsewhere, even being sorted by color for good measure. There was more iron and copper than they could count, but the occasional silver and the prized gold did fill their places in the line as well, however miniscule their numbers were.

The last, and grandest sign of the scrap pile was the aforementioned pile itself. A force of workers at least a hundred strong were sorting out the scraps of the lot, some big, some small, and some requiring a team of three or more to lift out. It was as tall as the ceiling of the factory, with catwalks going around its edges and chutes bringing more in with noisy tinkling that did not make any meaningful shift upon the surface of the pile.

"And here is the scrap pile, with every single one of its contents foraged from expeditions around Fantasia's main continent," Rhinoc telepathically said, a hoof sweeping out to gesture to the massive pile. "All you see here is what the cats of old left behind, when Faust and Godcat waged their second war. Anything we find to be enchanted, we hand over to NoLegs for further studying; everything else, we knock the rust off of, convert to ingots, and smelt to make our drones, tanks, and pieces of our airships."

Sweetie's horn glowed once more. "But isn't old metal really weak? Does it fall apart easily?" she telepathically asked.

Rhinoc nodded and replied with another flicker of his horn, "Normally, it would be. But the cats of old had better technology than anything we'd ever heard of; whatever they did must have let the metal remain durable and strong, even now. It tends to fall apart in its current form, but after re-smelting it, it comes out good as new." He gestured to the mountain within their mountain again and added, "And sometimes, we find working chips—little motherboards and daughterboards that tell the machines what to do. We take those to another wing of the factory and reprogram them accordingly."

Sweetie turned to the others and grinned, and began jotting notes down on her notepad. Her friends swiftly followed, and before long all of them had a few notes about the factory in their grasp. Katie's attention wasn't on them, but rather the scrap heap, more specifically the workers attending to it. It was only thanks to the spotlights she could see them at all, and she poked Rhinoc on a hind hock with a hoof to get his attention. When he turned to her, she held up a frog facing her chin, and used her other hoof to make a scrubbing motion across its withered surface.

Rhinoc nodded and flashed his horn once more, "Oh yeah, the scrubbing of the rust. A lot of the time, we use our own homemade vinegar to clean it off, and when that's low, we simply use elbow grease to get the job done. We have special sanders and grinders that help get the more stubborn bits of rust off, and almost always the rust loses its fight." He gestured to the foot of the scrap mountain, and conjured a telescope which he gave to the wraithling. She took it in her hooves, snapped her wings open, and took flight to have a better vantage at which to use the telescope.

It didn't take long for her to spot the sparks of the grinders and the fine dust of the sanders as they got to work knocking the rust off. Some were tinkering with objects that were a muted green in appearance, studded with things too small for even the telescope to pick up on—probably the motherboards and daughterboards that Rhinoc had mentioned and whatever was attached to them.

Those with vinegar bowls held the metal in the liquid for maybe five minutes, then began using wire brushes to scrub those bits clean as a whistle, all the while wearing hazard masks and hazard gloves on their hooves and claws. The vinegar had an odd color to it before the rust came into the equation to make it brown, an unusual purplish sheen that made it look more like a toxic waste product than anything. This applied to whatever bits of patina that besieged the surfaces of the foraged copper as well, but still the mixture came out more brown than anything in the end.

Again, she turned to Rhinoc as she flew back down and gave the telescope to Sweetie Belle, who took it in her magic for her turn to eye the phenomenon below. Rhinoc saw the look and answered, "We use a bit of an odd fruit for our vinegar, mixed with chitil for the best results. The fruit in question is really good for vinegar: it's only grown in changeling hives, and we call it the sour heart."

"Sour heart?" Sweetie Belle telepathically asked, lowering the telescope for a moment to look at the Major. Rhinoc nodded and conjured a purple, glossy, almost sickly-looking fruit with spikes studding its surface that looked like fangs. It was heart-shaped, and so were the two leaves on its short stem, also a sickly purple in color.

He then conjured a chisel and cracked open the fruit with it, whose surface gave a surprisingly woody thunk for something so glossy. He hit it a few more times with the chisel, breaking it down its middle to open it like a flower, where a vinegary stench wafted from its wounds as it revealed its pink flesh and a massive seed in the center, itself looking like two halves of a broken heart with the cracks sealed shut. Every nose in the vicinity curled at the reek of it, and winced as the seed was ripped out of the flesh with a meaty-sounding tear.

Rhinoc then scraped the flesh out of the husk using the chisel, conjured a cordless, crystal-studded blender, put the flesh and the green substance they used for their cocoons in it, closed the lid and let 'er rip. The flesh and chitil was pulped to a fine paste in seconds, then drained into a conjured bowl through a conjured sieve with a cheesecloth blanketing its top. Once the contents of the blender were emptied, he gave the cheese cloth a firm squeeze into the bowl, and lowered it so the Crusaders could see it.

"As you can see and smell, it's not fit for consumption… most of the time. But if a changeling drains too much hate and despair, and we have no other alternatives around, we give that changeling this fruit. The fruit eats the hatred and despair, but… well, let's just say the changelings who have to eat this stuff end up on the toilet for a little while afterwards," Rhinoc said as the kids got a good look at the sloshing purple liquid, with Katie wincing in sympathy at that last bit of information. They shuddered at the aroma, and relaxed when he made the husk, the seed, the tools, and the liquid vanish into the ether.

Sweetie flashed her horn again. "Can it be eaten by anyone else?"

Rhinoc shook his head with a frown. "It's poisonous otherwise. It's called the 'sapient slayer' when consumed by non-changelings," he replied. A thought seemed to hit him as his eyes widened, and he turned to the wraithling, who wilted with more than one grave nod leaving her noggin. She made a motion gesturing to her stomach, before trying her best to imitate a steam kettle with her split mouth, and then giving up to make a fwoosh motion with her hooves in the rough approximation of an explosion.

He nodded in understanding, and promptly moved to redirect the conversation before the Crusaders could ask their wraith escort how bad sour heart really was when consumed in her personal experience. "Now, we head for the construction zone! This will be quick; I can just teleport us all there," he said telepathically.

Sweetie raised a hoof before he lit his horn to prepare the teleport. She asked, "Is it outside the factory?"

Rhinoc shook his head with a smile. "Nope, but otherwise it would require airlifting the whole lot of you up there, and one of us isn't exactly capable of that," he answered, nodding towards Katie as he telepathically said that. With that, he grasped them all in his magic, and they vanished in a burst of light to reappear in an unfamiliar room, where they stood in a surprisingly blank area with two doors on either side, and a window between them.

Directly opposite of their standing vantage point, and beyond the window for that matter, was a conveyor belt lined with arms equipped with claws and soldering tools which, for the moment, was shut off. Before that conveyor belt was a control panel, fitted with levers and buttons that might have taken someone with a degree in engineering to successfully operate. A few workers were on standby, equipped with welding masks that they briefly raised as they turned to their fellow soldier with quirked brows.

Rhinoc conjured welding masks, four of them small enough to fit on foals' heads, and wrapped them around the trio-plus-wraith in a way that didn't obstruct their safety gear. When he was done with that, he did the same with another welding mask big enough for his own noggin, then turned to his fellow soldiers and lit his horn to grasp their heads for a brief second. They turned to one another, shrugged, and trotted to the control panel to begin operating it.

In seconds, the conveyor whirred to life, and the workers lifted their hooves to gesture the trio over to get a better look behind the safety of their welding masks. They obliged, and watched as motherboards and daughterboards came first, hoisted by the claws and connected with wires and clippings that wouldn't have looked out of place in an Equestrian film, or the house of one of Ponyville's more eccentric members of society.

Then, mechanical pieces came in, first in caddies and protective, steel boxes for the motherboards and daughterboards, forming into a roughly round shape. Then came round halves of a body with a round half-disc on the front of those halves and more slots on either side of the body as well as the top and a sliding door on the bottom, and a crimson lens that were joined together around the boards and connected and soldered into place with such precision it was almost a marvel in itself. This was followed by wired joints, heavy and rounded with a singular stick on each that attached to the smaller holes and were soldered in seamlessly.

Then, rotary blades came in, and were attached to the top of the robot, followed lastly by the drills and a few mechanical claws that would extend from the bottom for some unknown purpose. Once seemingly complete, the newest drone had its blades, drills, and joints manually spun by the claws to ensure that it could move. When movement of the joints and sliding door for the bottom claw was ensured, the drone was plopped back on the conveyor, and whisked away beyond their immediate sight.

Rhinoc tapped the three on their shoulders, causing them to look at him. He gestured to the door on the right of the room, and moved to open it for them. They, and their wraith escort, trotted through, down a hall that was still hooked to the conveyor belt, and past another door that lead to another room revealing another row of soldering tools and claws, albeit this time with a dumpster's worth of charged crystals outside the other side of the conveyor belt, secured in what seemed to be a giant silver box of some sort with more of those satellite towers pointing down upon the whole mass.

The claws moved to pick up crystal shards, delicately and with oddly padded tips to their mechanical digits that their next-door neighbors lacked. In addition to that, the Crusaders noticed that the crystal slots seemed to be inside the drones as opposed to the outside, as a suction cup lifted the crimson lens out of its slot to let a crystal of a similar color slot right behind where it would sit, causing it to glow the moment it was implanted. The drills were opened halfway down by more suction cups, revealing more slots inside non-hollow shells for three crystals apiece, going through the length of the weapons in question. Once implanted and closed back up, the drills whirred for a bit before stopping.

The drones themselves had their rotary blades angled to show off a slot on their top, into which another crystal was slotted. The drone whirred the rotary blades, then stopped as its singular lens lit up with power. The drone moved its joints experimentally, up, down, left, right, and swiveling to its backside before returning to their proper positions at the front and ready. Then it scanned the trio from beyond the window before giving them another OK, upon which a chute opened up at the top to let the drone fly out.

The Crusaders then took another look at the conveyor belt, realizing that the box where the crystals were in was where it effectively ended. They grinned and jotted down more notes, with Apple Bloom drawing up diagrams in her notepad of the particular drones that they had seen so far. Rhinoc let them take however many notes they deemed necessary, smiling warmly behind his welding mask even as he took it off. He did the polite thing and waited for them to halt their note-taking before removing their masks as well, and making them all vanish into the ether from which he conjured them.

Katie peeked over their shoulders as they scribbled, and would have truly smiled if she were able. Even though she couldn't read the hastily-scrawled notes too well over the flying hooves and pencils, she had to admit that the illustrations provided in said notepads gave her something of a clue as to what the notes were about. As they wrote, another drone, this one bearing treads and extendable claws, came onto the conveyor to receive its crystals behind its lens, in its joints, and in the axles of its sprockets and idlers. As soon as it whirred to life and gave them another scan, the hatch opened and a massive claw reached in to pick it up by the treads, though gently so it wouldn't disassemble in the liftoff.

It took a few moments of writing out what they heard and saw so far, but the youngsters looked at their second escort with wide and excited smiles that beamed as much as their eyes. Rhinoc smiled back, lit his horn, and teleported them away to yet another new room filled with more workers that looked at them funny as soon as they appeared.

One golden-eyed soldier flashed his horn, and a golden aura washed over Rhinoc's head as the disapprovement began. "You know damn well you're not supposed to be bringing children here," the soldier telepathically hissed.

Rhinoc grinned wryly. His horn flashed in kind, "Sorry, got overruled by Lance himself. Take it up with his crazy ass." He indicated the children-plus-wraith with a hoof and added, "Besides, I'm not giving out our most prized info to them, just how things work around here."

The golden-eyed soldier glowered. His horn flashed again. "That's a crock of bull and you know it. You're just using the madstallion as an excuse to do whatever you want," he telepathically grumbled.

"You're just mad you're not allowed around children, because of your piss-poor performance in that one babysitting gig you had," Rhinoc retorted, his grin widening.

The golden-eyed soldier scowled, an eye and his wings twitching in tandem. "Oh, now you're gonna lord that incident over my head? The one that damn near got me gelded? Real classy, Major, real classy."

Katie's orbs began darting between the two every time their horns flashed. When the Crusaders looked at her, she shrugged without averting her gaze, and continued to watch the nonverbal back and forth for signs of one of the two more experienced soldiers relenting. Eventually, the golden-eyed soldier took an involuntary step back when Rhinoc lifted a hoof as if about to jab it into his fellow soldier's chest. The soldier grumbled telepathically as he turned to fly out of the room through an exit in the back, "Fine! But don't come crying to me if they screw up the situation beyond all repair!"

The trio took the chance to look around the room; behind them was a lift, and there were no doors leading either in or out of the room. Screens filled the walls between the lift and the control panel, which showed off every possible vantage point in the factory, from the smaller mess hall to even a screen showing the control room itself. A window was set just behind the control panel, overlooking the factory in a way not unlike the higher echelons of the Cloudsdale Weather Facility.

Scootaloo trotted to the window to behold everything in its autonomous glory, her expression as bright as a thousand suns. She wasted no time jotting down the details, occasionally looking to a screen or window to make sure the intel matched up. In seconds, her bestest friends mimicked her motions, and before long all were jotting down information that would make Cheerilee have several heart attacks in quick succession out of pure joy.

It wasn't long after they finished that they began trading notes, each seeing what their friends had written down. Giggling ensued as they envisioned the looks on everypony's faces back home; the feeling that this was going to be the bestest report ever filling them with youthfully abundant levels of euphoria. Sure, it might not top the feeling that would come whenever their cutie marks decided to finally bless them, but this? It was definitely a close second. Seeing their friends and idol again was just an incidental bonus to it all.

Katie, however, noticed something was up. Her orbs were intently focused on a series of cameras showing connecting catwalks, upon which five very important figures in the military made a mad gallop in what seemed to be random directions, with weapons drawn and military gear already adorning their bodies. It didn't take long for those cameras to have red lights overtake their colors either, flashing intermittently even as alarms began blaring—and with her hearing, not even the noise mufflers could hope to cancel the alarms out. She trotted over to the trio and tapped their shoulders with a hoof, causing them to look at her as she made to remove her own earmuffs.

Curious, the trio obliged, and so did Rhinoc—and that was when they heard it, a low drone and a robotic voice saying, "Warning: hacking attempt in the computer room from beyond the Aerie. Warning: hacking attempt in the computer room from beyond the Aerie. All personnel are advised to take shelter immediately."

"Hacking attempt? What's that mean?" Sweetie Belle asked, a brow furrowed as Katie wordlessly gestured to a camera showing off a room stacked with computer monitors, towers, server caddies and then some, where an entity already began emerging from the masses of monitors through their screens and pooling in the center of the room, its coming heralded by a phenomenon that, in a way, was not unlike the rippling surface of a pond in a rainstorm.

It… was hard to describe; its appearance seemed to shift from one form to the next, all with limbs appearing out of place one second and then in their proper positions the next, like a game at the arcade was glitching out something fierce. The only constant feature to its mass, aside from the hellish sneer that it wore with every face it cycled through, was an odd distortion around its body—as though it were never meant to exist in the first place, a not-light that dimmed the room it stood in.

Rhinoc paled upon sighting the whatever-it-was, even as his superiors skid to a dead stop in the room it took up residence in. Eye contact was established—and that was all it took for the group to be launched into a frenzy of movement, casting spells, slashing with swords, and firing bullets from a gunblade that didn't seem to damage the entity. "Oh no… it's that damned mobile virus thing again…" he muttered in dismay, racing up to the control panel in a heartbeat to oversee the situation from the window.

The workers took heed of the emergency lights; everyone halted what they were doing and raced to the nearest safe rooms available to wait out the situation. Even the conveyor belts ceased movement, and the drones promptly shut themselves off and came to rest where they stood and hovered. Seeing this, he turned to the Crusaders and the wraithling. "Listen to me very carefully: that… thing that just besieged the entire factory cannot be fought by foals, or regular soldiers. It is immune to almost everything we have thrown at it in the past. If we wait here, the higher-ups should dispatch it soon."

Yet as he said that, he heard the entity laughing through the audio captured from the camera showing off the fight, even as it stretched across the room to slap three ponies to the ground snout-first, without so much a hint of a bone breaking or blood being spilled. Yet the tell-tale clatter of their weapons stirred something in the Crusaders, who, while wide-eyed and pale-faced with horror, felt something nudging them into action.

They turned to Rhinoc in unison, and said in tandem, "We gotta help them!"

Rhinoc's pupils would have shrank if he were wearing a disguise. As it stood, sweat beaded his brow. "But you have no combat experience! You don't even have your cutie marks yet! What makes you think you can stop that hellspawn?" he asked sincerely.

Sweetie stood firm, stomping a hoof as she made the pencils and notepads vanish into the ether. "I think it's playing for keeps this time! We can't let it take over the Aerie!" she said firmly.

Scootaloo buzzed her wings, her face hardening into a no-nonsense expression one would expect to see on the skull of a drill sergeant instead of a school-aged foal. "Whatever it is, we can't let it get away with… whatever it wants to do!" she agreed.

Apple Bloom nodded. "If'n we get hurt, we only have ourselves ta blame. But if'n we get hurt protecting the Aerie, and that thing goes down, that's all that matters, right?" She added with a hoofstomp of her own, "If'n Matt coulda cast Ragnarok as a kid, then you can be darn sure we can help them take out that whatchamacallit and make sure it stays away from here!"

Rhinoc frowned at the resolute expressions on the fillies' faces, and after being more or less glared down by them, resigned himself to a firm scolding from Lance when all was said and done. "Alright… I trust you. But I'm warning you now: that thing pulls no punches. You shouldn't, either." With that, his horn lit up, and he teleported the group to the computer room, arriving just in time to hear the entity's jeering laughter echo around the battleground.

Fourth Day, Afternoon Part II—Acrimonious Anomaly

The Crusaders gasped at what they saw, hearts briefly plummeting in their chests as the entity that hurt to look at seemed to sneer at them. Lance, Anna, and Natalie had already fallen, their weapons at their sides, with odd, black crystal growths adorning Natalie's body and staff, twisting it into a sinister scythe. They turned to regard Matt, who stood his ground alongside NoLegs, contemplating their odds. His golden-winged blade glinted, his head turned, his mane and tail twisted into writhing shadows with more darkness pooling at his fetlocks, and he angrily asked the Crusaders, "What the hell are you doing here?!"

Sweetie's horn flashed as a scowl set itself on her face, and she replied while glaring at the entity, "We want to help!" She rushed over to Anna and tried to shake her awake, but while she was still breathing, she wouldn't stir. Apparently, the shifting entity had hit her something fierce, yet no bruises or cuts were to be seen on her body. She eyed the suspiciously large, wooden harp Anna was clutching, and uncurled her wooden claws with her magic as she lifted the instrument up. For something that was the size of a fully grown pony, it was surprisingly light.

Nearby, just out of the reach of Anna's legs, was a small booklet with a glossy sheen. Sweetie used her magic to lift that up too, and flipped it open to find a collection of musical notes on lines, with what was probably the names of the compositions scrawled above the songs in a language she could not read, yet oddly matched the strange alphabet decorating the youngest Lieutenant-General's body. She turned to Matt and asked, "Is this a music sheet?"

Matt frowned. "Yes, and also her grimoire," he replied bluntly. "Look, just—" He melted into shadows and sidestepped an attack from the entity, resolving back into his default form as the monster jeered at him. "You're probably not old enough to use her sheet music, and she'll tear a strip off of me if I let you even try!" he said as soon as he reformed.

"But I gotta try! Otherwise, we could be done for!" Sweetie argued, her expression hardening.

Matt groaned at the resolute expression on the filly's face, and facehoofed. He turned to the other two Crusaders, both of whom had been given some very odd things by NoLegs in the time he melted into shadows: in Apple Bloom's hooves was a moderately-sized monkey wrench, one side bladed and with a guard to protect her pasterns and odd, hollow indentations in an otherwise solid surface. In Scootaloo's grasp was a wooden trojan horse with googly eyes, and a cornucopia that she was contemplating.

Matt then turned to look at Sweetie Belle again. "Fine. Just… try not to cast the more advanced spells in that thing, please?" he pleaded, before noticing that the entity was splitting off parts of itself that resolved into smaller, yet equally strange, entities that also wore sneers on their shapeshifting faces. He grabbed the fillies and cat with his shadows and hid in them, as the entities stretched across the room in another attempt to whack them upside the heads. As soon as the four hopped back out of the shadows with the attack passing harmlessly through them, the still-standing Lieutenant-General got a nod of understanding from the young unicorn.

He then turned to Rhinoc and Katie, both of whom kept their distance. "Both of you, be prepared in case that thing goes after you," he said, noticing the Major was juggling the clawed shoes that the wraithling wore during her foray into the slime ranch. "And don't try to use ice; it'll eat that stuff up and knock you into a wall."

Katie slipped her deadly shoes on with a nod of understanding. She eyed her target, and made a lunge that would have been fatal were it anyone else making the risky move. She slashed at the entity with her front claws, spun in a pirouette that let her hind claws land another hit, and then bit at the entity right in its shapeshifting face, causing it to shriek and flail its head as she latched on. It tossed its head from side to side, screaming as it moved its front legs in an attempt to force her off. Its underlings latched onto her back legs, but she plunged her front claws into the entity's neck and refused to let go.

Rhinoc conjured a massive blaster, copper and steel and oddly adorned with the crooked hands and face of a warped clock. He zipped around the entity, raised the blaster with his front legs, and smashed its barrel into its backside before pulling the trigger and letting loose with a magic blast that, strangely enough, resolved into a spinning, roaring buzzsaw blade that didn't seem to damage it very much.

The entity bucked with its shifting hinds, slamming into Rhinoc's prone stomach and dislodging the buzzsaw blade in one go. Rhinoc went careening into a wall with his weapon, and crumpled in a heap without any visible bruising on his chitin as the rotary blade arced up into the air and back down on one of the entity's underlings, killing it as it missed the wraithling by the hairs of her tail. A moment later, he stood up, clutching his stomach as his safety vest glowed with the same unfamiliar alphabet briefly shimmering across its surface in vibrant green.

The entity kept roaring, still bucking and thrashing as it tried to dislodge the persistent wraithling, who began to rotate her head vertically, sickening cracks coming from her spine as her skull went upside-down on her own neck without dislodging. The Crusaders winced as they saw her head rotating a solid three-hundred-sixty degrees with as much effort as would come from someone trying to push a mountain, a piece ripping slowly and bloodlessly with her effort. Doing this enabled her to tear a strip off of the entity quite literally, which dissolved in her mouth even as she went for another chomp to keep holding on.

Matt capitalized on this, moving in a burst of speed so fast he crossed the room all the way to Rhinoc in effectively one step, the only other indication of his movement being his golden-winged blade glinting in the light with him, felling the second smaller entity and cutting a large gash into the main enemy that persisted even with its changing facade. Somehow, he didn't damage Katie with the attack, save for a few stray severed hairs that had fluttered to the ground. He picked up Rhinoc and his weapon and zipped back to the Crusaders, performing what could only be called a quick slash with his passing of the entity, carving another gash into its side that remained.

Rhinoc grimaced as he was put on his hooves. "Good thing our safety gear is enchanted…" he groaned, rubbing his stomach with a forehoof.

Sweetie, still contemplating the harp and grimoire, turned to Rhinoc. "Was it because of this thing?" she asked, pointing to the entity that Katie was still trying to perform repeated death rolls on.

Rhinoc nodded. "I wouldn't recommend pushing the enchantments to their limit, though," he replied.

Sweetie nodded, and tugged a few strings of the harp, using the first spell she came upon in Anna's grimoire for reference. The harp glowed with both her aura and the aura Anna must have enchanted it with, melding into a meadow green that pulsed across the room, blanketing those who were standing. The air felt… lighter around them as she played the brief tune to its end, almost as though water had parted from the area despite the lack of its presence.

The entity stretched to the ceiling, crushing Katie against it in an attempt to force her to yield her hold. She did not comply, her head still twisting and turning as she tried to rip another chunk of its face off. The entity howled and made to slam downwards, ripping holes in the wraithling's delicate wings with the maneuver, yet still she continued with her assault, jamming her hind claws into its chest to have a firmer hold.

The Crusaders only had seconds to react before the attack would connect, and Scootaloo took initiative, grabbing the trojan horse, the cornucopia, Apple Bloom's tail, and Sweetie's mane with her hooves, her tail, and her teeth as she buzzed her wings to boost her speed. While nowhere near as fast as Matt had been with his attacks, she managed to bring her friends and their borrowed weapons onto the trojan horse and let the wheels do the rest, safely dodging the strike that sent Katie into a wall. Whatever spell Sweetie had cast made her quicker and lighter, further fueled by adrenaline as, finally, her body registered the very real danger she had gotten herself into.

They turned to the entity, who pulled back to its initial size, and found the enchantments on Katie's safety vest glowing, enabling her to stab and bite at the monster with continued, increasing impunity. She didn't show even a hint of pain, though then again, constantly being in that state for much of her unlife must have deadened her nerves somewhat. She probably didn't take much heed of the creature continuing to thrash beneath her assault, instead single-mindedly striking it with all the hatred she could muster. Apple Bloom snorted, and turned to look around the room, finding that the entity had kicked the buzzsaw blade to a nearby computer monitor in a way that enabled it to stab its screen.

Gears tumbled in her head, and she turned to Rhinoc. "Y'think ya can make more of those saws?" she asked.

Rhinoc frowned at the question. "Why?"

"I wanna try something," Apple Bloom replied, offering no further answer even as the Major gave her a strange look that persisted for a few seconds. "It might need more materials," she added as the staring contest was held.

Matt took the opportunity to zip past the entity in tandem with NoLegs, both moving imperceptibly fast as they made another attempt to slice and dice the confusing eyesore masquerading as something living. They made passes at its legs and body, once more narrowly avoiding their undead soldier and carving new swaths and avenues of pain that were slowly mounting with the assault.

It bucked its hinds, trying to make passes of its own at the mobile pair of slashing blades, but none of its hits connected with its intended targets, instead hitting computers and cracking screens with the same sledgehammer-like force it had knocked down three of the army's best with. Apple Bloom turned to an intact monitor, shuddering at the visage of a red-eyed, dark-furred unicorn stallion only visible from the neck up, scowling at the battleground with hatred in his expression. "Who the buck're you?" she growled.

"I have no time for impudent fillies playing pretend, and no time for pretend soldiers trying to defy my will. Soon… I will conquer Fantasia, and then Mythos," the stallion growled, scars bulging across his face as he narrowed his eyes. On a screen next to him, a horned hippogryph mare with only a beak on her face appeared, also scowling.

"Soon… we will subjugate every living thing on both worlds, and beyond the stars," the hippogryph mare growled, as much hatred in her eyes as that of the unicorn stallion's expression. "Once we level the Aerie's factory with our magic made manifest… we will have crippled its magitek. And then we can get rid of all who dare stand in our way." Before the Crusaders could ask more questions, the screens went dark, and fear gripped their hearts as they exchanged looks.

Scootaloo glowered. She turned to the entity, understanding dawning. "We can't let this thing leave this room!" she howled, jumping on the trojan horse and tugging on its reins, activating a mechanism that opened a door on its chest and pulled out a sharpened log. Angrily grinding her teeth, she used her tail to lift the cornucopia to her mouth and blew a mighty drone into it with as much air as her little lungs could produce. She beat her wings, the spell cast earlier making them go so fast as to move the trojan horse itself with lightning speed.

She rammed head-on into the monster's side just as NoLegs and Matt pulled away, her wingpower more than enough to make the fake horse run the entity over and leave skid marks in the floor. The log got lodged in the monster's side, pulled taut by a chain anchoring it to the horse, and dragged it to the other side of the room before it came to a dead stop against the wall. The monster collided with the wall a second after, impaled through to the other side with the log, Katie still hammering away at its head with ears perked and attentive.

A second after that, Scootaloo was sent flying by a wild swing of a front shapeshifting limb, wings buzzing as she went careening to Matt, who caught her in his magic as the enchantments of her safety vest activated. He set her down on the floor, checking her over as she heaved. "You good?" he asked worriedly.

Scootaloo shakily nodded, the adrenaline numbing her pain somewhat. Somehow, that strike hurt her far more than she gave it credit for. "I'll live," she confirmed, turning to the still-standing Lieutenant-General. "I… I saw ponies on the screens a second ago," she said.

Matt's face hardened. "What did they look like?" he asked.

"One had a beak, the other had red eyes and scars, and both had horns. They said they were going to take over Fantasia and Mythos," she answered. She pointed at the monster. "And they said something about their magic made manifest or something…"

Matt paled. "Damn… seems Redpine's moving faster than we thought…" he grumbled. He saw movement from the corner of his eye, and turned to find Lance rising to stand on shaky legs, Sweetie next to him playing another composition from Anna's grimoire and a green aura washing over him as he picked up his gunblade and a satchel of bullets.

"Matt… what the hell did I say about the kids?" Lance growled, an eye twitching.

"They wanted to help, sir! I tried to dissuade them, honest!" Rhinoc piped up. "They wouldn't budge!"

Sweetie quickly relayed to Lance what Apple Bloom had relayed to Matt. Lance's brow furrowed at the troubling news. "Fantastic. Just what I needed to hear," he hissed, feathers ruffling as he loaded bullets in his gunblade and leveled it at the thrashing monster, who was smashing Katie into computer monitors to no avail.

He tracked its movement, noticing it wasn't the least bit hampered with a log skewered through its stomach and a trojan horse only marginally attached to said log. "At least I now know where the damn thing's coming from…" he grumbled. He fired off six precise shots in the span of a few seconds, each bullet slamming clean into the monster's head just inches from Katie's jaws.

Yet still, it just would not keel over and die already. Its thrashing increased in tempo, with rearing on front legs shifting to a wild series of bucks that, gradually, made the log slide out of its most grievous wound. Katie tore another cunk off of its face and went in for a third bite, latching on with zombie-like fortitude that would be horrifying if she had attacked a living being in this way. Bits of crimson magic, interspersed with those odd runes forming in the mass, began to leak out like blood, but only in tiny rivulets that didn't come from its wounds.

Apple Bloom ran to Natalie and wrenched off a crystal growth halfway from her head, one that emerged before her horn like a twisted second. Some blood pooled with the action, but Apple Bloom cared not for that; she willed her magic from her hooves into the crystal, which went from black to a blisteringly bright red. She turned to the monster, threw the crystal into the air, and used the wrench to whack it in that direction like a baseball bat.

She and the others weren't sure what they expected the crystal to do, but explosions certainly weren't it. Eyes went wide as the crystal thudded into the monster's bullet-wounds, glowed with an aura shaped like an apple, and caused its head to burst with a loud bang that managed to dislodge Katie. Katie landed on her hooves and backed off, somewhat broken wings beating frantically to let her hover as they beheld the aftermath of what had just happened.

The monster growled as a new head formed in seconds, turning to Apple Bloom with a scowl on its ever-changing face. Apple Bloom capitalized on its lack of movement, racing over with the wrench in her mouth as she took a page out of Matt's book and sliced at where the knee would be on an adult pony with as much ferocity as she could give such an attack. The monster growled, turned around, and kicked her in the chest, sending her crashing into Matt's shadows as they moved to envelop her before she could land against a wall.

She was set down on her hooves, wincing as her safety vest triggered its enchantments. Rhinoc zipped into the air, firing off more magic blasts that resolved into spinning blades of death that landed on the floor, skittered across it, and sliced new wounds into the limbs of the entity. It hissed, more magic starting to leak out of its body as it stretched to the ceiling. Everyone darted to the sides of the room except for the Major, who fired off more magic blasts at the monster even as it raced to meet him head on.

It knocked him out of the air and firmly to the ground, buzzsaw blades impaled in its second head as it withdrew to its default size. Apple Bloom turned to Matt and asked, "Y'got anymore crystals?"

"I do, but they'd be absorbed by that thing," he answered, face hardening. "That thing is a magic vacuum."

Apple Bloom nodded with a tired sigh, before noticing Sweetie doing something that should not have been possible with a harp: using her magic to hold Scootaloo aloft, hind hooves against the strings as she pulled them taut with her friend's body, front hooves outstretched and wings beating. Magic pulsed across the harp and Scootaloo seconds before she was launched, her innate magic working across her wings and speeding up her flight.

Her hooves connected with the back of the monster's head with the force of a lightning bolt, knocking it to the ground as she catapulted off of it and into Matt's shadows as they caught her. "Holey smokes, Scoots! That was amazing!" Apple Bloom cheered as Scootaloo was lowered to her hooves with a grin on her face.

Katie wasted no time with compliments; she launched herself towards the monster as it made itself stand. It quickly stretched to the ceiling to slam down on her, knocking her out of the air and to the floor with impunity before it turned to Sweetie Belle, who stood alone on the other side of the room as she cast another spell that pulsed across the room.

"Oh horseapples," Sweetie cursed, as the monster started to gallop at her. She would have started galloping herself, had she not been snatched in wooden claws and teleported to safety. She turned upwards to find Anna clutching her, using her magic to reclaim her harp and load its strings with three dozen arrows' worth of pain.

"You do realize you're going to have to return this, right?" Anna asked as the monster skid to a halt, whipped around, and snarled at her.

"Rarity practically lectured that into me," Sweetie answered bluntly. "Wouldn't let me hear the end of it otherwise."

Anna nodded, took aim, and fired all of her arrows at once. They impaled themselves into the monster, who began bleeding more magic as it screamed with a warbling voice that hurt their ears and made the air itself shudder. It charged again, intending to end them all in an instant, but NoLegs darted ahead, slashing a total of eleven times before the monster stretched and slammed into him to halt his assault.

Matt raced to the monster, impaling it with his sword clean through the chest to its rump. It reared up, kicked him in the face, stretched and slammed him down to conk him out. Afterwards, it pulled the blade out of itself with a front limb, chucking it towards Anna, who took the children and teleported to the furthest wall.

She loaded the foals into the drawstrings of her improvised bow, and gave them one instruction and one instruction alone: "Hit it as hard as you can!" With that, she launched them through the air one at a time, and they immediately heeded her command as they raced towards the monster. Scootaloo went for the chest, her strike connecting as she caused it to rear up on its hind legs. Sweetie magically grabbed a buzzsaw blade with her passing and thrust it in the monster's face, and Apple Bloom hit it across the neck with her bladed wrench with her own follow-up of pain, causing it to topple over.

Anna teleported to the foals before they could land, scooped them in her claws, and teleported to another wall with her harp. She wrenched a piece of crystal off of Natalie's scythe, loaded it in Apple Bloom's hoof, and pointed at her wrench. "Tell me what you see while I divert its attention!" she ordered, teleporting to the monster to summon another hail of arrows to lay on the hurt as it threw itself onto its legs to stand once more.

Apple Bloom studied the wrench. It had grooves for crystals to slot into, similar to the magitek she had seen so far. So that's what this was! She slotted the crystal in, used her hoof to pump magic into it, and her eyes widened as it took on the red hue of her mane. She turned to Anna as she teleported to safety. "Yer telling me I can use magitek?!" she called.

Anna nodded and teleported to the three. She scooped Apple Bloom up for another round of cannonball frenzy and loaded her into the drawstring. "Hit it with everything you've got!" she ordered before firing the filly at the monster. Apple Bloom obeyed, whacking the monster with her passing right upside the head with the improvised wrench. Magic seeped from the gemstone into the monster, making its head swell and glow as red as her mana.

Before Apple Bloom could land, the youngest Lieutenant-General teleported to her with her friends and weapons and caught her in her claws. They beheld the explosion that rent the entity's head asunder, the stump now bleeding magical charges profusely even as it resculpted its head and turned to regard them once again. Now, it was growing so unstable it could barely hold its shapeshifting form together, save for the scowl that now adorned its third head.

Sweetie charged magic bolts into her horn, forming star-like shapes that she loaded into the drawstrings of the bow-harp. She pulled them taut and fired, hitting the monster with another round of agony that oddly sounded musical upon impact with such precision that she would have made her sister proud even within these circumstances.

Anna noticed something about the three that they themselves didn't, but opted to turn to their shared enemy instead. "You three, stay here. It might not look like it, but it's on its last legs," she said, studying the monster carefully.

"How can you tell?" Sweetie asked, as the monster yanked the arrows out of its body to hurl them in their direction. Anna deflected the arrows with her magic, turning them back around to send them screaming through the air at the beast that besieged the room.

"It never pulls out weapons from its body otherwise. We've fought this thing enough to learn its habits," Anna replied, charging forward and leaving her grimoire and harp behind as she made her lunge. She clawed at the monster with all her might, but it stretched and slammed her into the floor with impunity. Once she was incapacitated, it turned to the children as it heard the sounds of the harp being played, and teleported over to them before they could react.

Sweetie and her friends were cornered, the monster looming over them as the harp had a frantic tune plucked upon its strings. The monster laughed and jeered in their faces, the final celebratory taunt before it would incapacitate them. Sweetie didn't know what the name of the spell she was casting had been, keeping her gaze upon the grimoire as she memorized the notes and the cross symbol etched next to its name.

But even that had been snatched from her; the monster lifted a hoof and swatted the grimoire clean out of her focus, and cupped her chin to force her to behold its terrible might alongside her friends. As the last few notes of the song played out, its aura pulsing across the room and across the fallen combatants, the monster batted aside the harp as well, its sneer widening to truly sickening degrees that even Pinkie Pie would shudder at. It also knocked the wrench out of Apple Bloom's hooves before she could get the chance to use it again.

For the first time, it spoke in a chillingly damning baritone, its 'voice' echoing in a way that sounded as though a mare and stallion were talking in tandem. "Out of time, impudent foals. Your best wasn't enough… and soon, you shall know your places among the fallen that came before you, the arcane shadows of the past drowning in oblivion… the price paid for your petulance."

Somepony stirred, but the Crusaders weren't sure who was moving. Metal, or something sounding close to it, scraped across the floor. The creature paid no heed to the noise, nor to the sound of galloping hooves increasing in volume, its wounded body starting to slowly stretch up to the ceiling as it prepared the coup de grâce to end them.

Its last, and greatest mistake was to taunt them one more time. "Any last words, worthless children?" The Crusaders didn't have time to answer as somepony slashed at the monster's neck before it could make it even a quarter of the way to the ceiling, the attack whizzing over the foals' heads and causing the monster to let out a gargled choke as its head separated from its neck and fell to the floor. A second later, its body fell opposite of its head, and a magic circle formed underneath it to make a cross symbol with runes in its body.

The foul magic making the entity vanished without another trace. The Crusaders looked up to find Natalie standing just behind where the entity had fallen, scythe in a clawed hoof similar to Anna's and her horn aglow. The weapon clattered to the floor, the crystals broke away from her body, and she raced to scoop the children in her forelegs with a tight hug.

She didn't admonish them, scold them, or criticise them. She didn't yell, curse, or scream. She didn't read them the riot act, nor break out into drill sergeant mode to tear a strip off their hides. She simply muttered, "You've fought well…" and hugged them tighter. They returned the hug, and broke apart a moment later as they heard more ponies rising to stand.

Anna trotted over, nursing her head in her foreclaw. "Okay, where the hell are my harp and spellbook?" she grumbled. Sweetie pointed to where they lay with both hooves, and Anna lit her horn to reclaim them before sending them to the ether. She glared at Natalie. "And whose idea was it to let them handle my belongings?"

"I don't think we should hold it against them," Natalie said patiently, with the air of somepony who might have had to explain this once or twice to a stubborn mule before. She stood up and smiled. "Besides… without them, we might have been goners this time."

Anna snorted, shaking her head. A rueful smile crossed her face. "And how are we gonna explain this to their guardians?" she retorted.

Natalie turned to the brave children, and her eyes lit up as she noticed fading light fleeing from their flanks. "I think I know how…" she said, and without another word pointed at Scootaloo's flank. Scootaloo followed her hoof, and her eyes went wide at what she saw: a winged lightning bolt angled upright, with three stars crowding around its strikepoint.

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom, seeing this, turned to their own flanks to behold a harp surrounded by three stars and three musical notes arranged in a hexagon, and an apple made of a red gemstone embedded on a bladed wrench with three stars shining off both surfaces. They looked at each other, and at Scootaloo, all dead silent, expressions dawning with understanding. The adults and cat crowded around them, each beaming as they beheld the new marks adorning the fillies' flanks.

It wasn't long before Lance came over to pat them on the head, smiling with a twinkle in his eye. "Well now… didn't expect that…" he said wryly. "Looks like I gotta arrange an awards ceremony for you three, for your help today." He gestured to their cutie marks. "And for that, as well."

Katie made the wise decision to gesture towards her ears, making eye contact with Rhinoc the entire way. He nodded, conjured the earmuffs, and slipped them on her head in time to block out the ear-splitting eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!! that echoed through the room a moment later. The Crusaders hugged one another, squealing in delight, tears in their eyes as the adults watched them prance in a tight circle upon the floor.

"We got our cutie marks! We got our cutie marks!" they chanted, euphoria running through their systems and making them bounce up and down in place. They were stopped by a stray hoof, and turned to the owner of that hoof as she smiled at them.

"You've also earned extra ice cream tonight," Natalie said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "And probably cupcakes from Pinkie, now that I think about it." Her smile widened. "How's about your cute-ceañera as part of the awards ceremony?"

Another squeal from the three was all the answer the adults needed. They nodded, and began talking amongst themselves to make sudden preparations for a well-earned party. The Crusaders let them talk it out, too excited over their own victory to really bother chipping in.

Best. Day. Ever.

Fourth Day, Evening—Achievement

The festivities went on well into the night, and even the most battle-hardened of the Aerie's army had more than agreed that the Crusaders had earned their places as junior fighters. Of course, being foals, they couldn't be recruited into the army without some serious hell to pay, but they did take their bona fide military medals with gusto, few that there were as they accepted them onto a podium in a massive auditorium that was decked out with enough party decorations to strangle a nation.

Lance personally congratulated the three for their help in disposing of the shapeshifting eyesore as he gave them their medals, to thunderous applause from the soldiers and guests. Afterwards, foods were dished out, everyone ate, and all were in high spirits—even the Greenwooders and Sunnytowners, who largely still kept to themselves. As promised, the Crusaders did get their extra ice cream and cupcakes, and now nursed full stomachs even as they jotted down their last few notes of the evening.

Although, that was a bit hard to do, when their sisters and idol were watching them for any signs of any need for an unprecedented trip to the latrine. Even then, they were proud and exuberant, smiling warmly at their new cutie marks and achievements. "Well, I'll be… my sister's a magitek expert…" Applejack muttered, smiling as she patted Apple Bloom's head.

"And mine's a musical expert," Rarity chirped, a serene expression on her face that twitched slightly when she envisioned the wretched foalsitter receiving the news of the talent… which would hopefully never occur.

Rainbow beamed, ruffling Scootaloo's mane as she looked at her biggest fan with pride. "Looks like you found a way to fly after all, squirt. I bet your folks will be really happy when they hear the news," she said, grinning. She leaned over and whispered at her, "So… that thing Lance was talking about… didja kick its flank good?"

"We did, but the grownups finished it off before we could get one last shot in," Scootaloo answered, figuring that some embellishment of the story would work wonders in the classroom when she returned. Never in a million years would she tell Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon that she and her friends had been technically cornered by the eyesore trying to pass off as something living, especially given that Diamond's mother would probably join in on that hissyfit with her.

Applejack nodded, though she opted not to say anything about that. "So, those ponies y'all saw on the computer thingies… y'think they might be in on the know of what's happening 'round Fantasia?" she asked, looking at Rarity and Rainbow, as though they could readily provide any more answer than the children who saw the ponies in question.

Rainbow shrugged, and Rarity frowned. "I don't know, but whatever it is that they're planning, they have to be stopped," Rarity said in a tone brokering no argument. "I want no part in letting their insidious ploy reach the tipping point."

"Right. We gotta ask Lance what that's all about, and nip that problem in the bud as soon as we can," Rainbow agreed with a nod. She stretched her wings, her smile still easygoing. "For now, we celebrate."

The Crusaders grinned, lowering the pencils and notepads for a little bit to beam at their sisters and idol, the new medals adorning their necks glinting in the lights of the party. "But their flanks will be kicked, won't they?" Apple Bloom asked.

Applejack nodded. "Eeyup," she answered simply. She noticed someone approaching them, and turned in that direction. "Say, Anna, whatcha got there?"

Anna grinned as she came over, bearing three gift-wrapped boxes in her magic, and each was the size of a school-aged foal. "A little something-something I had the forgers whip up for the youngsters," she answered with a wry twist to her words. "Of course, as they get older, we can improve on the designs…" She handed a box to each of the Crusaders and said, "Open them up."

Curious, they took the presents, passing the notes and pens to their elders as the presents plopped before them. Each one was wrapped in the colors of their manes, with ribbons matching their coats, making it easy for them to note whose present was whose. Sweetie opened hers first, finding a metal box emblazoned with her new cutie mark. It had a hinge on one side of the top, and the harp looked more… alive on the emblem than the rest of the mark. Interest piqued, she prodded around the box with her front hooves, before pressing into the harp on the emblem, which pulled itself deeper into the box at her touch, causing a click! to hit her ears as the box popped open.

Sweetie leaned over the top of the open box to peer in, squeeing as she beheld a plush interior which housed a harp as big as she was, made of silver, gold, and copper, artfully crafted and with runes gently carved into its surface alongside gemstones slotted along its top, which she pulled out of the box with her magic to behold in full. On the shoulder and soundbox of the harp were more images of her cutie mark, which had yet more gemstones slotted in for the musical notes and stars.

Set in a small box to one side were replacement strings should any be damaged, and on the other side was a composition booklet that lay closed. Below the harp's resting point was a comfy wooden box with a glass top that revealed another plush interior, probably designed to house her medals. Sweetie opened the second box, took the medals off her neck and put them down on the plush fabric using her magic.

Her eyes twinkled as she beheld the medals, of which there were three. One featured a musical note, another a spellbook, and the third to which the other two had been attached via ribbon featured a bow and arrow, all three beset in silver to match the main box. Anna thunked the wooden box with a claw, careful not to scratch the wood or glass. "The enchantments are hidden under the plush fabric, keeping the goods protected," she said with a smirk.

Apple Bloom grinned and tore open her present, revealing another box with her own cutie mark emblazoned on it. She pressed on the wrench, and it popped open to reveal a non-bladed, bronze and silver wrench similar to the one NoLegs gave her earlier. But it was customized so it had an apple-shaped claw hammer on the business end, fused with the wrench, along with a stockier than normal handle. The handle came with a latch that popped open to reveal a wooden chisel head, and another latch for a secondary screwdriver head.

Furthermore, there were crystals studding its surface in special slots, shaped like the leaves and fruit of apples, faintly gleaming as she ran her hooves across their surfaces. Like Sweetie Belle, she too had another ornate box with a glass top for displaying her medals, as well as a few blueprint sheets that were blank, but could be drawn upon. She popped that wooden sucker open and put her prizes inside, one displaying a hammer and a nail, one displaying a sparkling crystal in the shape of an apple, and the last one displaying what looked like an explosion caused by a wrench slamming into something.

Scootaloo opened her present with gusto, pressing on the emblem to get it open to see the contents of her box. What she saw inside somewhat confused her; it looked like a scooter with lightning-shaped bolts on the wheels, with crystals studded on the handles and wheels for possible flair. It was stocker than most scooters, and even stranger, it came with a pair of rather peculiar metal wings, meant to be wrapped around the chest and barrel and come to rest behind her organic pair.

It had adjustable straps, and sturdy metal anchors that had padding put in place to make the experience of wearing them more comfortable. The straps, which were meant to be secured on tightly, had faint enchantments visible in their thick, Fantasian-woven fabric. The wings themselves seemed small at first, albeit bigger than her own natural pair, until she pressed a button between them that caused the artificial feathers to extend, startling her into almost dropping them. Once fully extended, they looked far, far too large for a foal and, perhaps, even a fully grown pony, yet despite that and their inorganic state, they were light as a feather. They were studded with crystals, and had more straps to pull and flap them as needed.

"We… heard about your little issue, so we decided to try to help you into the skies our way," Anna explained sheepishly, patting Scootaloo's head. "It'll take a few practice sessions, but you'll get the hang of it." Scootaloo nodded, and beamed when Anna added, "And, unlike the scooter, the straps and metal pieces are adjustable enough you could safely use them even when you grow up, and the metal is enchanted to not break when bent like a straw."

Scootaloo squealed and put the presents back in their box, making sure to press the button on the wings' backside to de-extend them first. Afterwards, she unlatched the second box within to stash her medals safely, which resembled a lightning bolt, a pair of wings, and one depicting what seemed to be cracks in the earth that resulted from an explosion. The three turned to Anna in unison, and raced to hug her with "Thank you!" leaving their mouths at the same time.

Anna hugged them back, grinning. "You're welcome~" she chirped in reply, ruffling their manes with a wooden claw. "Although, I would recommend taking photos of your new gear to the classroom, rather than taking the gear itself to school when you return home," she added as they pulled away. She leaned over to whisper conspiratorially to them, "And just between you three and me, with what I've heard from your relatives during the party earlier, I really don't think it would be wise to let your school bullies get a hold of your goods, if you know what I mean."

"You think they might try to break our gear?" Sweetie asked, tilting her head.

Anna shook her head. "Nope; the crystals have been enchanted to only react to your guys' innate magic without any ill effects. Anyone else tries using them, and they might suddenly have soot on their faces and their manes blown back," she explained. "They are yours, and yours alone, to wield as you see fit. Also, they're enchanted metal, so any attempts to break them are going to fall flat." She turned to Sweetie Belle and added, "Oh, by the way, I copied the spells you used from my own grimoire into yours, just so you can keep using them for future reference. They're basic beginner spells, and really easy to cast."

Sweetie Belle grinned, and magically lifted the booklet up to open it. Indeed, the two spells she had used during her scuffle with the magical virus thing had been copied within the first few pages down to the last note, except instead of that weird alphabet making up their names, they were written in a language she could read. The first spell, Reflex, had cutesy little wings framing the name, and the second, Renew, had medical crosses and rods with intertwined winged snakes surrounding it.

The booklet, she found, was laminated on the cover and back, shimmering with faint runes that she could only see if she angled it in the light properly. Experimentally, she tried to rip a page out, but the paper would not budge, as the runes kicked in on the enchantment to glow with an aura that took on the magical hue of Sweetie's spellcasting. She tugged and tugged on both sides, but the booklet held firm, refusing to part with its parchment. She grinned and pranced in place. "Oh boy! The paper's rip-proof!" she howled, delighted that her experiment worked out in the end.

"And waterproof," Anna added with a cheeky grin. "You could dunk it in chocolate milk and whatever other liquids you can think of, and they won't stain the papers. The only ink you're getting on that bad boy is the same kind you write from a fountain pen, using your magic."

Sweetie's grin broadened, and she set the booklet down in her present box with glee. Ideas were turning in her head for new compositions, although she did realize she might need a self-help book on that particular topic before deciding to approach it. Besides, she was still young, somewhat inexperienced in spellcasting, and still in school for cripes' sake. Better to slow that wagon down before it tumbled headlong off a cliff.

Applejack snorted, poking Apple Bloom on her withers to return to her the notepad and pencil. Rainbow and Rarity followed suit, and all three had matching grins on their faces. "Welp, never thought you'd include the crazies ya saw in the notes y'all got," Applejack said, somewhat amused.

"I do think it would be quite, erm… distasteful to include them in the report proper, though," Rarity added with a gracious nod. "Besides, it would be wise to not include their little magical mishap attacking the Aerie, don't you agree?"

"Besides, those two blowhards are just a couple more flanks to kick around here. You shouldn't give such ponies the time of day, unless you end up getting arrested for it or something like that back home," Rainbow piped up, shaking her head ruefully. "Or end up having to testify in court, but hopefully that's never gonna happen. Especially on our watch."

"And speaking of testifying, I'm surprised that nopony back home took issue with the head of the school board yet," Rarity sighed, frowning disdainfully at that prospect. "She has done nothing but demean students and insult everypony but her precious child at every turn. She's as ineffective as anypony with blacksmithing talents working at a bakery." She turned to Anna and added, "Long story, but a blacksmith asked the Cakes to… borrow their oven once. They ended up having to get a new one, and the blacksmith still insists to this day that it's not his fault the old oven blew up."

Applejack blew a bit of mane out of her face. "As rich and fancy pants as that priss is, I don't think we should be surprised. That mare has more bits than she has sense," she hissed, shaking her head. "Prancin' around like a fussy Canterlot unicorn, when she ain't got no horn on her head." She turned to Anna and added, "She thinks they won't turn her down just 'cause she's richie-rich, and I know ya have seen their racism." Anna nodded, her expression souring for just a second before reverting back to her cheeky grin.

"Oh well… if she's as stupid as you say she is, it probably won't be long before she does something obscenely idiotic that might cost her much more than her job," Anna said, an evil, evil glint in her eyes as she said that. "We just gotta be there to watch the fireworks." She turned to the foals and patted their heads with a claw. "You might want to let us know, through Princess Luna, if the head of the school board starts losing her marbles more than usual, okay?"

"Okay~" the Crusaders chirped in unison. Anna was about to say something else, but Lance trotted past her and nudged her with a wing, urging her to follow him. She obliged, and nodded to the trio as she went with him to discuss other, hopefully important things. Oh well, that just gave the three ample time to review their notes and see what they had so far.

The Aerie has a single factory in its base of operations, protected by the mountain itself, which is part gryphon nest, part changeling hive. It is located deep in the mountain, roughly seven thousand yards below where the hangars are for their planes and airships. It is accessible only by elevator, or through the few constantly-shapeshifting tunnels that the changelings use to make their way through the mountain. However, enchanted safety gear is required to be in the factory at all, from hard hats to noise mufflers and orange vests for visibility. As a result, telepathy, body language, and signals are used for primary communication within the factory.

The magitek they use is scavenged from all across Fantasia's main continent, harvested by soldiers, and put into a massive scrap heap for sorting purposes. Those with rust undergo a special chemical bath made with a fruit that can replicate the effects of vinegar, called sour heart. This fruit is also used to purge hatred and despair from changelings that have consumed those emotions, at the cost of an extended trip to the toilet and a sore stomach for the changelings in question.

Once cleaned, sorted, and smelted into new forms, the Aerie uses its repurposed scrap metal to craft their magitek, and repair existing models. The metal is used for as many things, perhaps even more than Equestria, even enchanted armor that looks like normal clothing at first. The metal is also repurposed for weapons, if a soldier or one of the higher-ups of the First Unified Army fancies it as such.

The factory is operated by a control panel, overseen by changeling and gryphon engineers, and a computer room with towers, caddies, and the like producing data telling the drones of the Aerie what to do, who to recognize as a friend, and who to recognize as an enemy. It also tells the drones where to go, and what tools do what, streamlining many processes within the Aerie overall.

The drones of the Aerie serve all sorts of purposes, from farming to fighting. There are many models, the most prominent of which being flight-based drones with drills, and tread-based drones built for soldering and carrying tools. While the flying model can do the same tasks as a tread-based drone, it might also be used to mine the crystals the Aerie uses to power its magitek safely, given the presence of drills on a lot of the flying models.

Unfortunately, a few enemies of the Aerie have figured out how to harass them from afar; they pool their magic into a construct that shifts through appearances like a changeling, send it to attack the factory, and try to cripple the Aerie's infrastructure that way. As a result, until the source of the far-away attacks are permanently dealt with, the army's best has no choice but to fight the monster in question. The attacks have been consistently called 'hacking,' and the entity that keeps showing up has been consistently referred to as a 'virus.'

As previously stated, the Aerie has more enemies than it does allies as of this report. However, the enemies prefer to keep to the shadows, as if afraid of retaliation. One name has consistently cropped up for an enemy in question: Redpine. However, details are scarce, as they are only privy to a select few in the military.

A muffled mew broke them from their report, as NoLegs came over with a fish in his mouth and a stack of photographs floating beside him, held by a blue magical aura that came from his tail, oddly enough. Sweetie lit her horn and took the photographs in her magic, grinning at NoLegs. "So, whatcha got this time?" She turned the photos about, and showed them to her friends, though their smiles fell at the strange sights in the photos: there was a forest at the foot of the mountain, ringing around its base and fitted with roads that tanks traversed upon without damaging the trees.

At first, it seemed weird that such a sight would be at the bottom of the Aerie, until Apple Bloom noticed something about it. "Look at the other mountains in the distance; something's up," she said, gesturing to one photo taken beside a tank, its turret pointed at the mountains in question. There, on one of the mountains were tiny black dots studding its surface, though they were small enough she couldn't discern what they were.

Sweetie frowned. "Yeah, the tank's looking at it like it could be a threat… what is it?" she asked. She heard hoofsteps approaching even in the din of the party, and tore her eyes away from the photo to find Matt approaching them. His mane and tail had reverted back to natural blond hair, albeit unkempt, and there was no sign of any darkness pooling from his fetlocks.

"Oh, that?" he asked, trotting around her to lean over her shoulder to regard the photo. "That's just a guard post in the distance. We have several of them around the Aerie, hidden by illusions and magitek."

The Crusaders ooooooooh'd in response. Scootaloo turned to Matt and asked, "Why are they hidden by illusions and magitek?"

"The soldiers in the guard posts report weather happenings, any possible attacks, and things like that. They use magitek to communicate at a long distance, letting the tanks at the foot of the main mountain know what's up, so they can relay the information to us in turn. They also have their own farms and greenhouses, to keep themselves fed as they watch for anything suspicious." Matt straightened himself out and patted the heads of the children with a hoof. "If you want, we can take you to a guard post tomorrow, and you can see how the magitek and illusions go hoof in hoof."

The trio grinned. "Sounds like a plan!" they chorused in unison. Matt grinned, nodded, and trotted away, in the direction Lance had gone earlier. NoLegs purred and followed him, and soon they were out of sight.

Rarity grinned, a ladylike chuckle leaving her mouth as she tilted her head. "Oh, darlings, it sounds like you've got that ball rolling. You've already managed to warm the military's hearts," she said, causing the three to turn to her. "I think you've endeared yourselves to them."

She was grasped around the withers by Applejack, who laughed. "At least they have more protection now," she agreed with a nod. "Ain't no hootenanny, foal-harming false babysitters coming for them, no sir. Otherwise, we'd all be whistlin' dixie."

Rainbow joined in the group hug. "You said it! And once they get back home, I think we oughta see if Scootaloo's folks can help look after Sweetie Belle," she said, lifting a hoof to ruffle Sweetie's mane. Sweetie grinned at the prospect; Scootaloo's folks had far more motherly compassion than that wicked hag of a would-be foalsitter ever did.

"It would do to not have a repeat of the foalsitter fiasco," Rarity agreed with a nod. "And I really need to talk to Mom and Dad about better screening for any future candidates."

"When you do, give them photos of that rotten witch's new jail cell," Rainbow said, a glint in her eye. "Otherwise, they might not… exactly believe you." Rarity nodded, and moved to scoop the Crusaders into another hug that they reciprocated.

"Oh, you better believe I will be equipping myself appropriately for that dressing down," Rarity said to Rainbow, before turning her attention back on the children. "And speaking of, have you thought of telling Mom and Dad the good news after I deliver the dressing down?"

Sweetie grinned. "They wouldn't want to miss me getting my mark for the world," she answered.

"And neither would Big Mac," Apple Bloom added, already envisioning the look on her big brother's face when she came home with her new swanky cutie mark. "Bet ya bits to bridles that Granny Smith would kick her hooves off the ceiling over it." That got a snort of amusement out of Applejack, despite knowing that Granny Smith was more ancient than the three Apple siblings put together.

"And my aunts would probably give me another cake for getting my cutie mark," Scootaloo added, shuddering at the inevitable full stomach that discussion would entail. "Or at least take me to a fancy restaurant."

"Well, whatever the case, they'll be over the moon about it. And Miss Cheerilee might be more than ecstatic over the accomplishment as well," Rarity chimed in, her smile widening at the thought. "She might even ask you three for a demonstration of your new talents, although… you might need an archery target for that demonstration, if it's within the school budget…" Her smile fell at the thought, when she reconsidered that the head of the school board might not be on board with that idea at all, especially if it meant one-upping her precious hellspawn that she paraded around as 'better than everypony else.'

"The head of the school board will probably be too busy getting a hooficure or doing something else to flaunt the bits she thinks are endless. Half the time she can't be bothered to come to school, even on Family Appreciation Day," Apple Bloom replied, grinning. "And if'n we can get a day where she won't show up, we can have that demonstration lickety-split."

Applejack put a hoof to her chin, and rubbed in thought. "Maybe if Big Mac can cobble together a working target…" she muttered out loud. "He's pretty good about making sturdy planks do what he wants 'em to do…" She turned to her younger sister and smiled. "Of course, Big Mac would have to be on board with the plan, but he shouldn't give ya a lick of trouble."

Apple Bloom grinned. "Eenope, not one lick of trouble," she agreed with a nod. She laughed with her sister, her friends, and her sister's friends, each one just enjoying the euphoria of the party and the good mood everyone was in. It seemed like the Aerie did celebrate cutie marks after all, just… with a little bit of prodding and greasing the wheels from Pinkie Pie to get that ball rolling.

And lots of food. Nobody Apple Bloom knew of would turn down the food. By Tartarus, if she looked hard enough, she could spot Katie in her chitil mask, stuffing another cupcake into her emaciated face, one that looked like it might have been sprinkled with wasp meat to entice her. "Sugary death, take me to the obscene fortresses of Godcat and Her hellborn!" Katie shouted as soon as the cupcake went down the hatch, before falling to the floor and twitching insensately.

Welp, looked like someone needed a nap anyway. Apple Bloom couldn't help but snicker at the sight, and it seemed the soldiers surrounding the wraithling couldn't, either. One did stop laughing long enough to pick her up and began trotting away to lug her into a bed for the night, shaking his head as she drooled on his back.

Oh well, they'd just inform her of the newest destination tomorrow, when she was decidedly coherent and not stuffing her face again. But that could wait for a few more hours yet; sleep was tempting the partygoers, and the report needed another few pages added to its mass in the meantime.

And already, the Crusaders could envision the looks on everypony's faces back home as they demonstrated their new talents at school, or perhaps at an area safely beyond school grounds. Not even Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon would hope to be able to call the cutie marks fake after the demonstration, and there was a very good chance they would try, they recognized.

Oh well. They had a celebration to wrap up, and those pages weren't going to write themselves.

Fifth Day, Morning—Zenith

The following morning, the Crusaders ate their breakfast with gusto, taking the time to triple-check their report's newest pages as they fueled up for the day. Katie was with them, watching as she ate a much more reasonable portion of food on her plate, which had been rationed to her by soldiers who didn't want her to become a watermelon. Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Twilight were with them, though every now and again their eyes darted from the children to the wraithling even as they feasted.

As they jotted down the next bits of framework for their report, they noticed that the soldiers were giving them warm, proud smiles every now and again. Then again, helping thwart an enemy attack, no matter how bizarre the nature thereof, would probably endear them to any military force. The Crusaders realized they might have to explain that little detail to Cheerilee… in private, of course, with no eavesdropping, snot-nosed, snob-hobbling bullies to hurl insults at them within earshot.

Finishing their food, and making sure to wipe away any stray crumbs from their report as they chewed the last bites, the trio shared matching grins. Who would've thought that a magitek facility would help them with their biggest conundrum since they had the clubhouse built? Granted, two marks didn't really display magitek in of themselves, but now they had magitek tools to further explore their new talents in full. Oh, that was going to be fun… except for maybe the potential property damage, but they could figure out workarounds for that issue later.

And the useless, gossipy hens of Ponyville were another issue entirely. That lot was probably going to stir the trouble pot upon sighting the new cutie marks and magitek gear, especially if they learned the detail of said gear having come from Fantasia of all planets. However, if push came to shove, and no other options were available, maybe they could have Princess Luna tell off the gossipy hens in their dreams. Though that was a distant maybe, given she had to help run the madhouse that was Equestria.

Not to mention the head of the school board being among that particular crowd of useless gossips, on top of her snob-hobbling, 'I'm-better-than-you-because-I-have-bits' attitude. Hopefully, her antics wouldn't end with her taking a one-way ticket to the Iron Hold, and driving herself insane in solitary confinement. Though, given she more or less ran the school like it was her own personal fiefdom… it was generally a good idea to make some backup plans in case she blew her gasket. And backups of the report, for safekeeping of course. And to frame them in a binder for all eternity.

Pinkie was practically bouncing in her seat; her exuberance could not be contained by any force in the sister worlds. "Oh boy oh boy oh boy! I can't wait to see what the girls will do with their new equipment!" she said, grinning goofily wide as visions of the Crusaders mastering their new talents emerged in her head like a whirlwind from hell.

Fluttershy was grinning, too, albeit serenely. Angel, sitting atop her head, gave a smile and a thumbs up to the Crusaders, though that was the extent of his happiness and good mood. "I can't wait either, though… I hope they don't have to use their new talents to fight too much…" she said.

Twilight nodded in assent, even with Owlowiscious on her head, who was bobbing up and down with the motion. "Considering they got their talents from participating in a fight, I don't think we can really stop that ball though," she pointed out with a blaise shrug of her shoulders. "Most we can do is mitigate it, and give them some pointers for who and who not to fight against." She looked squarely at the trio of junior fighters as she added, "And unless some maniac is actively attacking the school itself, or your fellow students, school fights are strictly disallowed."

"But what about the maniac, if he does decide to attack the school and our fellow students?" Sweetie Belle asked.

Twilight sighed. "In that case, feel free to beat the maniac senseless, until he's either knocked out or picked up by the guards," she replied. "Whichever comes first."

"If you can, kick the maniacs where their apple trees fork if they do decide to grace the school's doorstep!" Anna called from her booth, causing Apple Bloom to puff her cheeks and start laughing. She turned to the highest booth, and found Lance glaring at his subordinate with a wry, twitchy smile on his face as he struggled not to laugh. Some of the other soldiers laughed, and some winced, albeit with wobbly smiles on their muzzles and beaks.

Katie was snickering into her hoof, shaking her head as she envisioned the low blow to end all low blows. "Oooooh, I had to do that with my clawed shoes to some bastards back when I armed myself for the big, bad world of Fantasia after I turned…" she reminisced, orbs sparkling fondly at whatever sordid memory was replaying in her head. "Those guys did not get up for weeks. And when they eventually came back as wraiths, I finished them off before they could get a hang of their new abilities."

"They tried to kill you first?" Sweetie asked, only to garner a shake of the head for an answer.

"No, it was something… considerably worse that they wanted to pull on me. They weren't exactly subtle about their intentions, either," Katie replied cryptically. "But that made it far easier for me to line up my potshots. Especially since I discovered I could freeze things with my shoes if I stabbed hard enough."

"Goodness. That must've been a terrible experience to go through…" Fluttershy muttered, garnering a nod from the wraithling.

"Would've been worse if I laid down and took it like the bitch they saw me as," Katie agreed. "But those bozos are gathering dust now. And I learned my first lesson of unlife: appearances can still deceive, even if your sight is somewhat blurred."

Twilight's brow furrowed slightly. "Wait, you're partially blind?" she asked.

Katie nodded. "My eyes are next to useless in the dark, and I'm surprised I can still tell colors, marks, light and dark apart otherwise," she confirmed. "Then again, it's probably bad due to what I eat…"

Twilight frowned. "Hate and despair?" she guessed.

Katie nodded again. "Yep. My eyesight keeps getting worse the more of that stuff I consume. The bits of love, on the other hoof, improve it for whatever reason." She shrugged again. "Never made it far in the lessons of changeling biology before my hive got sent away from the mortal coil."

Apple Bloom put a hoof to her chin, rubbing contemplatively as she listened in on the banter. "Sounds like glasses wouldn't help much with that…" she muttered out loud. She turned to the wraithling and asked, "So how do you eat emotions anyway?"

"Now that's a very forward question…" Fluttershy muttered, wings shuffling for a moment. "However, I admit that… I'm also curious."

Katie gestured to the broken stub on her head. "Changelings drain emotions using their horns, forming a miasma from the victim that goes into the feeder's mouth, rendering them still-living husks if drained dry," she said. "However, because mine's next to useless, I have to get up close and personal to replicate the effect." She shrugged. "And every time I tried, I was either knocked aside before the attempt could go through, or otherwise dissuaded from eating that way. Gradually, my appetite waned until I stopped eating completely. It only rekindled recently, when Creamsicle shoved biscuits into my facehole." She wilted a bit before adding, "I did manage to feed off of one creature recently, when I stabbed him with my horn remnants successfully. He didn't get back up afterwards."

"What emotions did he have to offer?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"Hatred, despair, rage… not an ounce of love to be had," Katie answered with a shake of her head. "Dude was nuttier than squirrel droppings."

"I would say that's not very nice, but I have seen the pony you're talking about… if he could even be called a pony anymore…" Fluttershy said with a sigh and a shake of her head. "Even I would be remiss to say he wasn't all… there. What pain he must have been in to have been twisted into that form…" Twilight shuddered at the mention, and one of her eyes twitched briefly.

"Well, at least he won't bother us anymore. And his suffering is over, so there's that," Katie agreed with a nod and a buzz of her wings.

"Oh yeah, have you talked to Lance about that yet?" Twilight asked.

Katie shook her head. "Not yet. He's been too busy plotting something lately," she answered. "What that is, I don't know. But I have a feeling he'll pull me aside and tell me once he has a moment to breathe between it all."

The Crusaders shared looks. "Y'think it might be because of those ponies we saw on the computer screens?" Scootaloo asked.

Pinkie's mane deflated somewhat, and she grimly nodded. "Oh yeah, those party poopers. Long story trimmed short, they did many terrible things to Lance. Messed up his birthdays, his life, his morals, and now he wants to pay them back for all the missed-out fun. And their many, many cronies, too, because they're also sorta-kinda-maybe responsible for some of the miserable state of Fantasia, and they have got to go or else many more foals will have no chance to giggle at the ghosties because of them," she said.

The Crusaders regarded Pinkie with a flat look. "... how'd they mess up his birthdays?" Sweetie ventured, a raised brow making a climb upon her forehead.

Pinkie's frown deepened. "He told me this morning, and he was really really really upset when he did, that he won't celebrate his birthdays until he's certain that the party poopers are one-hundred-and-ten percent gone from Fantasia," she said in an unusually severe tone of voice. "Until then, that day's just gonna remind him of all the bad stuff they did to him."

"Scratch that, what'd they do to upset his life so badly?" Scootaloo piped up, struggling to envision a pony unable to celebrate their own birthday for one reason or another. Was that, perhaps, tied to why the General and his cohorts were not exactly willing to celebrate their own mass cute-ceañera the other day?

"Oh, that's tragically easy: you think getting grounded, switchings, and scoldings are fun-killers and tearjerkers?" Pinkie shook her head, pity flashing in her eyes. "Lance got it way, way, way worse. He has been left with a bad legacy he doesn't want to have anything to do with, and he's Tartarus-bent on scrubbing it off of Fantasia's face on the first chance he gets." Never in a million years would the Crusaders have heard Pinkie Pie of all ponies using 'tragically,' 'bad legacy,' and 'Tartarus-bent' in the same string of sentences. They shuddered, struggling to envision whatever managed to kick Lance in the fork of his apple tree that badly, while realizing that Pinkie was still technically dancing around the issue entirely.

Which, truth be told, was a woeful sign just by itself.

Apple Bloom frowned, a million queries dancing in her head. The most egregious one forced its way to her tongue, and she could not contain it if her life depended on it. Being somewhat raised with honesty, especially when her big sister became the Bearer of Honesty, made her sense of tact back down for once in her life. "How can y'all mess up a pony's morals and scruples, if they have any to begin with??" she questioned, her young mind unable to really come up with anything other than uncomfortable answers she forced out of her brain before they could take shape in her head.

"Lance told me to not tell anyone else until he pays those party poopers back for all the bad stuff they did to him, and chances are, he's going to launch them out of a cannon right to Godcat's doorstep, so…" Pinkie shrugged again, mane still somewhat deflated. "That is, if he doesn't substitute the cannon with the massive volcano they're hiding in first. And he's probably going to do that with his orbital space laser."

Fluttershy grimly nodded, her expression hardening somewhat. This caught the trio's attention, and they turned to her with their brows climbing even higher. "And… well, they do lots of horrible things to young fillies that I don't want to think about anymore… unfortunately, given the… society hidden in the volcano's nature, the cronies are also probably going to die horribly… even though I think there shouldn't be any need for that much bloodshed, we might not have much of a choice but to strike first…" Now Fluttershy recognized that bloodshed couldn't be avoided? Something was definitely up, but as with whatever tragic tale Anna had undergone, the Crusaders realized they still weren't exactly old enough to be privy to Lance's details yet.

Katie's face hardened, and her sockets narrowed at the troubling news. "So… you're telling me we got another war coming up…" she grumbled, starting to piece together the puzzle. She gestured to the Crusaders and added, "And they may or may not see its starting moments."

Fluttershy nodded, but then she shook her head after. "We will not let them get caught up in it. Besides, we don't want them to see what Lance will do to those responsible and scar them for life in the process…" she replied. "Rarity, Applejack, and Rainbow won't let him hear the end of it otherwise. You and I both know that."

Katie wilted a bit. "Touché," she grumbled.

Twilight decided to change the subject. "So how's the report coming along?" she asked.

The Crusaders beamed, though they were not fools in the slightest—the subject they were on before must have been dreary for even their sisters and idol's friends to talk about, not to mention the outright alien notion of Pinkie's earlier tone and Fluttershy conceding about bloodshed. Furthermore, Lance was still technically within earshot of them and everyone else in the military, so maybe Twilight decided to take point to keep him from breathing down her neck about it later. "It's going great!" Sweetie said, grinning. "When you guys started talking about the… the other thing, we finished with another huge section of the project!"

Twilight smiled warmly, and Pinkie's mane reverted to its usual poofiness upon hearing that. "That's great! If you wouldn't mind, could I skim it, please?" Twilight asked. The Crusaders hoofed over the goods and let her browse as she saw fit; no harm, no foul, except maybe another lecture on proper grammar and the like. Still, better that than having to be projectmates with their bullies, and get a failing grade that way.

At that point, Mr. Muffin came over to the table again, climbed up Twilight's tail and her back to sit on her head and regard the Crusaders, almost bowling Owlouiscious over in the process. It seemed someone got a hold of the enchanted plush, considering he was now decked out in cloth-looking armor, complete with a cute little patchy helmet and scabbard for whatever sharp, pointy thing he could get his stubby hands on. Apple Bloom grinned at the plush; maybe she could sneak him into a group photo of the Aerie's best, which would surely confuse the Tartarus out of Cheerilee if she saw the results of that.

Scootaloo turned to Katie and asked, "Would Lance be the type of pony to recruit animated plushies?"

Katie snorted at the thought, snickering as she turned to regard the now clothed toy bear. "I heard he tried stabbing a pony where his apple tree forked, so… I couldn't say," she answered. "Might need sign language lessons before he gets recruited, if he can be recruited at all."

"Shut up!" Lazarus called from the other end of the mess hall, only to garner some snickering from the other soldiers. "He did not manage to pierce any skin!"

Katie rolled her orbs. "Primadonna," she muttered under her breath.

"Hey, at least you still have your breeding rights! Chill already!" Matt called, only to garner a shriek of dismay from Lazarus and another round of giggling from the subordinates.

Scootaloo sighed. "Adults are weird," she muttered.

"Damn skippy," Katie agreed with another roll of her orbs.

Twilight finished skimming the report, and returned it to the Crusaders. Her expression had darkened a little, though maybe it was over that one topic that she wished to change earlier. Whatever the case, her normally bright smile returned a second later, even as some of the soldiers continued to laugh at Lazarus' expense. "Well, as far as I can tell, you three are almost done making this report already. Just a few more trips around the Aerie, and you'll be finished before your autumn break is over," she said.

"Isn't that wonderful?" Fluttershy asked, smiling serenely again. "You must be ahead of your classmates at this rate; with the evidence you have gathered, you're practically on top of this assignment!" She clapped her hooves together in glee, tilting her head and closing her eyes with joy radiating from her tone. It dipped along with her smile a second later as she added, "I'm glad that the wicked foalsitter can never hurt another foal again—you three are more than proving her wrong, even now. She must have never been shown kindness before… and would probably see it as some sort of abuse, given what Rarity told me about her…" And there it was, that weirdness again. What in Equestria and the Aerie had Fluttershy seen to make that little bitty quirk in her otherwise kind composure crop up?

Pinkie patted Fluttershy's back with a hoof, making her lurch slightly. This had the side effect of making Angel wobble on her head as he struggled to regain his balance. "That foalsitter's just a meany-pants fun-police party pooper. Her parents must have never had a day of fun in their lives, so she must've never had a fun day, either," she agreed in her usual cheery demeanor, yet some of that cheer… almost sounded forced. Perhaps she had heard the full scoop from Rarity, which wouldn't be outside the realm of possibility. "Why she gets her jollies out of ruining other ponies' fun isn't my main problem with her; I hope she learns how much of a meany-pants she was in the Iron Hold."

If Stern Lecture ever learned the lesson in question sometime within the next year or so, without expiring or turning into a wraith first. A pretty big if, considering she had been banished from Equestria for reasons the trio couldn't grasp, and usually those banished either had the Elements of Harmony pointed point-blank at their faces, or stubbornly clung to whatever got them thrown out of the country to begin with.

"That being said…" Twilight still maintained her smile, somehow. "Would you three be able to read what you have written so far, to Lance and his right hooves, before you head off after the next batch of information?"

The Crusaders immediately perked up at the idea. "Deal!" they said, with no iota of hesitation.

~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~

Later that morning, Lance and his cohorts sat in the main office, sporting only a desk with a chair, a large window behind the desk, some chairs for the prospective audience to sit down in, and the door to enter and leave the room. The Crusaders were with them, and took note of how… sparse the office was. It seemed Lance really wasn't the type of pony to show off, strut his stuff, or do anything of the sort, instead favoring practicality and function over form.

Then again, given how much the office was lacking, it got the trio of youngsters thinking. Did he not yet discover his own personal flair, or was there some other reason for his hesitancy to decorate the office as he saw fit? Maybe he was too busy actively running the military to make the time for it? Whatever the case, though, they simply sequestered the thoughts elsewhere for now.

The Crusaders stood before the desk, hearts aflutter with anticipation of getting the hoofprint of approval earlier than expected. Even better, their audience had popcorn and drinks ready, and grins on their faces… well, except for Lazarus, who was still sulking about the perceived wounds and insults to his masculinity. Even then, he was munching on the kernels of goodness.

They had read the first chapter of their report out loud, and so far had the rapt attention of those gathered before them. They had now smoothly segued into the second chapter without delay.

"Part II: Birth of War, Birth of an Aerie. In the time following the Catastrophe, a change was coming to Fantasia, though only those who initiated the Catastrophe knew it would announce its presence soon. Time and time again, day by day, the Children of Catastrophe struggled to survive, foraging for food, shelter, and the tools necessary to live for a few weeks longer. Living off the land wasn't an option, nor was seeking a safe haven in any town; they were relentlessly pursued by those who wished only to kill them, who had already spread wanted posters about them so that the towns knew to kill them on sight, even documenting their very unique cutie marks to any who saw them."

"This forced them to hide in whatever shadows would welcome them, which were few, far in between, and almost always out in the unforgiving wilderness. Gradually, their pursuers started to give up the chase, or were otherwise slain when confronted, their secrets to the Children's most recent whereabouts dying with them. Though, their deaths and pursuit had the side-effect of shredding the last bits of innocence the Children had left, making them particularly jaded to everything around them, perhaps even to each other."

"Yet their woes would not end; for reasons unknown, the Children split, one going off in a single direction and the other two, sticking together, heading off for another. Now separated, they had a harder time surviving, though the two who stayed with each other would soon find a legless cat that came to their aid. Many battles were fought, some very close, but ultimately the Children and cat would emerge victorious."

"However, still unsure about their new talents, they would seek quiet places to train their magic and skills, sharpening themselves in body, mind, and spirit for the changes to come. It wasn't long after that when the first signs of trouble came: flights of gryphons, glassy-eyed and howling for blood, came to try and force their subjugation. Overwhelmed against the odds, they once again turned tail and ran away, fighting off any who came too close. The shadows welcomed them once again, enabling them to wait out the storm."

"Confused as to why they were attacked, they thought that those who pursued them before had something to do with it, unaware that much darker plans hatched by a much more sinister foe were laid out for all of Fantasia. Keeping to the darkness, they would visit whatever towns they could, seeking answers, but their searches turned out to have conflicting stories, all inconclusive and with ponies cowering in fear of what was to come."

"It wasn't long after that that they found a changeling hive, ransacked, pillaged, and all inhabitants slain. No survivors remained; save for scrawlings on the shapeshifting hive walls, etched by what few drones remained alive long enough to write them out, there were no signs of life to be had. Eggs were smashed, grubs cut up, nymphs lethally stabbed, drones dismembered, and kings and queens left in an utter state of ruination."

"Yet, one scrawling talked about survivors of the hive heading elsewhere, hoping they made it to safety, alongside a map of Fantasia itself that had somehow been left untouched by the murderers. Using that map, the two Children and their feline friend raced to the last stronghold of the changelings, passing by more empty hives with slaughtered inhabitants in their travels."

"Unfortunately, when they arrived, the stronghold was already under siege from bloodthirsty gryphons all trying to seek a way into the hive to render the changelings extinct. Using an underground tunnel that the enemy overlooked, the three would find their way into the hive to learn what had happened. Alas, the last few changeling royals were slaughtered, and the survivors of ten changeling hives huddled up in the final hive, preparing to make a last stand."

"'We will take care of it,' said the Children, who then marched to the top of the hive with grim purpose. They had grown so used to killing in self-defense at this rate, that what would follow would prove no different to them. Unleashing their deadliest magics, Hellfire and Ragnarok, they would proceed to utterly decimate the attacking force down to the last soldier, while the changelings watched the apocalypse that surrounded the stronghold. When asked if they could help stop the gryphons and their mad plot, the changelings joined without delay."

"Afterwards, they would all gather their resources, plan accordingly, gear up and prepare for the biggest fight of their lives yet, easily dwarfing the Catastrophe in both casualties and brutality—a fight that would end with more questions asked than answered, for events they hadn't known yet happened were already underway, triggered only by the first magic surge that granted the Children their cutie marks in an arena that once stood seemingly so long ago."

"The second major change to Fantasia would later solidify their resolve to survive, heralded by the first major skirmish between changelings, led by the Children, and gryphons, led by the unseen enemy alike. A skirmish that would make something abundantly clear to the resisting changelings: the gryphons wanted nothing more than to drown all of Fantasia in blood and slaughter, heedless to reason, remorse, and rage, only consumed by their singular desire to conquer all who stood in their way."

"It was clear what needed to be done then. They would have to wage war with the gryphons, not just for their own sakes, but for the sake of Fantasia itself. A war they would soon call the Trials of Attrition."

They checked right quick; the attention of their audience was still secured, and the adults were grinning, albeit perhaps making mental notes to find the one who shot their mouth off and scold them later. However right they got the turn of events so far, and how much they embellished, they did not know—but in this instance, some embellishment of the tale never hurt anyone, and would probably make Equestria breathe a sigh of relief if anyone else outside of the classroom would catch wind of the story. So far, nobody dared to contradict them yet, itself a promising yet disturbing sign, so they took that as their cue to continue to the end of the second chapter of their report.

"From that first battle onwards, it was clear the enemy had an advantage: they were organized despite their bloodlust, armed with magitek to counteract any spells the changelings and Children threw at them, and were so numerous that many battles were close calls, won only through careful planning and exploiting the few weaknesses the enemy possessed. It gradually dawned on the changelings and their saviors as losses mounted: this would not be an easy war to win, and the price to be paid for their resistance would be heavy in turn."

"Yet even then, they could tell something was wrong. The enemy's movements were stiff, hesitant… almost forced, and they couldn't say why. Nothing seemed outwardly wrong with the gryphons they had slain otherwise, so the Children chalked it up to chance—they were unwilling to fight during the gladiator games moments before the Catastrophe occurred, so they ultimately thought it was nothing."

"How wrong they were with that assessment of the situation—very, very wrong. They had to plan extremely carefully, or else the losses accrued would be too great to continue fighting the war. Territories claimed by the changelings were claimed by gryphons, then reclaimed with impunity as the death toll grew and grew on both sides. It was eventually found out through careful espionage that the gryphons were devising war machines with which to take Fantasia on a faster scale, and if allowed to continue, would carve a symphony of destruction that could not be recovered from."

"A risky decision was made: the Children themselves would find out where the war machines were being built, and stop them before they could enter the battlefield. While the probability of dying during the operation was high, it was agreed that they had the best chance of stopping the war machines, as their most devastating spells would be able to effectively render the magitek useless in the long run. Scouting operations took place, at first coming up empty before any fruitful yields and information were found, allowing the Children of Catastrophe to make their decisive ploy."

"The war machines were brutal, even though they were guarded by innumerable gryphons and smaller war machines that knew no mercy. Even though they found themselves gradually exhausting themselves from the onslaught, the Children pushed on, unwilling to let Fantasia fall into a madcreature's iron grip. They reached the first of the massive war mechs, and a long, tiring battle was fought, won decisively because Ragnarok had been cast."

"While a major blow to the enemy morale, it was only the beginning—they knew other factories lingered, hidden away, building more magitek to compensate for the loss. They bid their time, recovering from the exertion and licking their wounds, readying themselves for the next confrontation, and all other confrontations to follow until they could get to the heart of the issue."

"Weeks passed, melting to months as the Trials dragged on, each one long and brutal, forcing the resistance to make each battle count, unaware that not everygryph was in agreement with the enemy. One day, as if from nowhere , a band of five gryphons, four of them wingless and all armed with three magitek planes, approached the changelings during a heated meeting. The Children regarded them warily, as every gryphon they had fought thus far was out for their blood. It was then something came to light: the gryphons were not fighting out of their own free will, but rather, someone or something was controlling them like puppets on strings, ordering them to commit their numerous atrocities."

"When this band of five asked to switch sides, there was some hesitancy from the changelings and Children, and then their second riskiest ploy would be made: they admitted the small band of gryphons, who immediately began to detail the enemy's plans to the Children without delay. Startled at how much they were telling them, and sensing there was something that that the band of enemy traitors wanted out of this, the Children would ask the gryphons: 'Why?'"

"Their response was short: 'We wish to free the others from the wicked spell that is controlling them. We need your help.' The younger of the Children began to think, and agreed to it, however in doing so pointing out that not everygryph could possibly be saved from the spell. The five accepted that as inevitable, and helped turn the tide of the Trials of Attrition in the changelings' favor."

"After a few more skirmishes with the war mechs, aided by the wingless gryphons' planes and natural skill, they found something that would decisively end the Trials once and for all: the Incineration Orbital Neutralization Cannon, or ION for short, a satellite that could project a deadly laser with which to obliterate opponents. Hacking into the controls for the ION Cannon without delay, the band of five would prove invaluable for the final confrontation ahead."

"On the last day of the Trials of Attrition, after a full year of war, the changelings made a decisive strike at the heart of the budding empire, quickly burning everything they could in their quest to stop whoever or whatever was behind the insanity. It turned out to not be a gryphon, a changeling, or anything they had expected, but rather, it was all the work of a single pony—a mad pegasus stallion who had come upon the foulest magics possible, and who had prepared for the confrontation with a deadly tank codenamed the Valkyrie."

"All the bloodshed, the violence, the lives lost… it hardened the Children into true-born killing machines, though even they recognized the crossroads before them: kill the madstallion, and turn out just like him, or save him and all of gryphonkind. They came to a decision and fought their hardest, though they swiftly found out that the pegasus stallion gave them no quarter in combat, as he had with the gryphons when he first violently took over their society."

"But the Children had a plan: disable the Valkyrie, and cast a spell on the pegasus to disable his magic so that the gryphons would once again see reason. They battled fiercely, and the opportunities to enact their plan were slim to none, and were slipping away as the madpony refused to let up on his assault. Just when it seemed like it was over, the wingless gryphons once again came to their aid in a decisive maneuver that would further kill whatever morale the enemy had left. They unleashed the ION Cannon on the Valkyrie, destroying it and crippling the madstallion's plans in one swing."

"Unfortunately, the pegasus kept fighting on, unconcerned for the mounting losses as his empire burned all around him. He fought to the bitter end, only to be pinned down by one of the Children while the other cast a spell she had been practicing for this very moment all across the battleground, unsure of its potential success. However, this one act would bring the Trials to a screeching halt all around them, the gryphons regaining their senses… and their remorse along with it. They found something suspicious about the pegasus: somehow, the same magic he had used was controlling him for reasons they did not know, and once sanity had returned to him, he begged for death to take him away."

"The Children of Catastrophe would discuss the matter with the gryphons and changelings, both sides calling for his death at first before learning that he, too, had been seemingly controlled. In the end, they would prove to be merciful, though not to the extent that he had hoped. They rendered him unable to cast the foul magic again, and after coming to an agreement with the changelings and gryphons, would reintegrate him back into society, watching and waiting for any signs of his insanity returning."

"As the Children kept their eye on the weakened pegasus, the gryphons and changelings formed an alliance, and began construction of the Aerie without delay, using the last stronghold of the latter as their new base of operations. Two years after the Trials came to an end, a new, budding, allied empire was born in its place, tentative to friendship but not wholly receptive to its values as of yet. Alas, they began to pool their combined resources to secure the hive-nest, electing the Children of Catastrophe as their new co-leaders, and teaching them the things they would need to know in order to run an army."

"All the while, the pegasus' sanity was fully restored, so they did not have to take the most drastic measures as they had feared. They continue to watch him to this day, to prevent him from slipping back into his previous madness, leading the Aerie into an age of uncertainty, spearheading responses to any disasters that unfold on Fantasia. Unfortunately, due to many ponies on Fantasia still not having their cutie marks even after the Catastrophe came and went, the Children have ended up being the ultimate authority on the disasters for the time being."

Lance, despite looking embarrassed, was still grinning. "Welp… put that whole fiasco into better words than I would have come up with," he said, wings shuffling as he paused to munch on some popcorn. "At least you didn't name drop me, because frankly, I'm already embarrassed enough by my past mistakes."

"Well, we're not like Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon; besides, it would be mean to do that to you when you've already visited Equestria and made everypony there lose their minds," Scootaloo replied, wings buzzing. "And it'll just give everypony back home one more reason to dislike you if word somehow gets out beyond school grounds."

The adults traded looks. Natalie piped up, "Aren't you concerned they might still read between the lines and figure out it was us who participated in that mess?"

Scootaloo shook her head. "Nope, because hardly anypony knows Fantasian history, even though the barrier between the worlds broke," she answered cheerfully. "You have nothing to worry about."

Lance nodded, his smile widening. "Alright then. Is that all you have so far?" he asked.

"Nope, but we should probably get going to the guard post. We'll read some more to you guys tomorrow, or maybe this evening; is that okay?" Sweetie asked, her grin widening when the adults nodded in response.

Matt stood up and trotted to pat the three on their heads. "I'll take you to the guard post; I know an easy way to get there," he said, beaming. "Besides, I'm kinda the one who came up with the illusions for the posts in the first place, and you're gonna have to be with me if you want to actually access the post."

The Crusaders grinned. "You're on!" they said in unison.

Fifth Day, Afternoon—Sleight of Hoof

The trip to the nearest guard post was uneventful, despite the fact that Matt had conjured shadows around him, Katie and the trio to effectively levitate the whole lot of them over there like some sort of deranged, drug-addled genie. Getting into the guard post proved far more interesting; the front gates were armed to the teeth with drones, tanks, airships, and turrets, each poised on them with odd ripples on their surfaces that suggested they were blending in and out of reality on a whim. The only reason they could see the weapons and gates at all was thanks to Matt casting a spell over the area, revealing all of that ruckus hiding in plain sight over what seemed to be part of a simple mountain range.

The cannons remained trained on them until a flying, drill-less drone scanned them to admit them. For another thing, Matt waved his horn towards a sensor built into the gate itself, a simple series of gemstones built into and around a massive lock, and it opened with a groan of steel upon registering his magic, allowing him, the wraithling and the Crusaders to slip in with the aid of his shadows. Inside was pitch-black, and the gate closed behind them, shrouding them in darkness. Matt lit his horn once more, casting a light at its tip that gave them a radius of golden magic to see each other and the spell's edge.

"I got a question, and it's been bugging me since that virus thing showed up yesterday," Sweetie asked, turning to Matt and tilting her head. "How come you can use shadows? Isn't that forbidden magic?"

Matt shook his head. "Well… I assume you've heard about King Sombra, right?" he asked, garnering a nod from the Crusaders. "He's… a species of pony called the Umbrum, that are living shadow-entities compacted into pony form with powers over darkness, and they were once corrupted ponies who dabbled a little bit too much into actual forbidden magic until they became their own equine subspecies with a particular weakness to love, and Crystal Hearts if any are present to channel that love. I'm… half-Umbrum, though I'm smart enough to not use the forbidden magic because it will actually eat my sanity if I try."

"How come you're half-Umbrum?" Scootaloo asked.

Matt smiled. "Well, some Umbrum can regain their sanity, fall in love with non-Umbrum, and… the rest is history, as they say. Mom just never really liked talking about her heritage, and neither did my Uncle Andrew," he answered with a shrug. "And no, Ragnarok doesn't count as forbidden magic, on the grounds that I'm still sane after using it. Neither is using darkness-based spells, unless you're performing a blood ritual or making a phylactery or something like that." His smile waned a bit. "Also, don't include that in your report please, we don't want to give the Canterlot nobles more ammunition against us."

The Crusaders shared looks. "So not all Umbrum are evil?" they asked in unison.

Matt's smile returned. "Nope. Though, the non-evil Umbrum are few in number," he replied, turning to the darkness ahead. "Stick close; the soldiers in the guard posts are paranoid." With that warning, he began to trot ahead, albeit at a sedate pace to avoid outrunning the children and wraith.

A long hallway stretched on, or at least that was what it seemed as they traversed the tunnels. But walls rippled around Matt whenever he veered towards, then through them, and the Crusaders and wraithling followed to find themselves in a completely different tunnel every time. Goodness, the guard posts took their security more seriously than the Aerie itself; one could easily get lost in this maze with no way out, and they were thankful they had another, more experienced adult to guide them around. Maybe the horrors witnessed during the Trials had traumatized the guards on some level, the youngsters reflected.

Katie kept her ears perked and attentive, swiveling them to catch even the slightest sound. All she caught were the noises their hooves made on the floor, and she'd have been lying if she said she weren't creeped out by that fact. "I can't even hear the whirring of magitek…" she muttered, ears twitching. "And I know for a fact we have drones outside. Why can't I hear them?"

"Sound-based illusions. Helps keep the guard posts' locations a secret from whatever enemy decides they want to confront us," Matt replied, heading towards another seemingly-solid wall with his charges following him. "Also helps us mask how big our military actually is." The Crusaders peered past his legs, and found a light in the distance of this hall, dim yet present.

Katie's head jerked up a bit. "... now I'm hearing something else," she reported, looking intently ahead. With that, everyone went for the sounds, muted at first thanks to their hoofsteps, yet gradually growing louder and louder the closer they came. Eventually, it grew loud enough to form into coherent words coming from two voices, and the youngsters realized what they were hearing were the sounds of an unusually disgruntled discussion.

"Can you believe this? All this damn time, Windwood's been among the population of mangled alicorns," one masculine voice said, sounding irritated. "And she's been geased, too, so she couldn't tell us diddly squat! It's the same with her twin; she couldn't spill the beans about her severed horn either!"

"At this rate, I'm not even surprised anymore. Lance and Natalie are also among that population, so it would only make sense that they'd find another disgruntled member of that particular society with a bunch of angst and a penchant for afflicting horrible ailments on whoever the hell crossed her," another said, the shaking of the head audible in his voice. "Nor am I surprised her sister's with her on that one; heard she has fantastibad harp-playing skills. How do you screw that up?"

The Crusaders silently gasped and turned to Matt for an explanation, wondering if what they heard was either true or a bunch of hooey before they remembered the odd, almost out-of-place scars that adorned Anna's back. Had… had that weird alphabet seemingly written on Anna's body have something to do with the scars on her back? Oblivious, the pair of voices continued their banter, spilling more information that the Crusaders quickly realized might have actually counted as classified.

"At least Lance doesn't have his horn anymore. And nobody can make him dance like a puppet, either," one voice said, the nod audible in his tone. "Though, given what he had in mind for Fantasia while under his geas? Wouldn't be surprised if fertility magic was in his repertoire of spells."

"Oh please, you and I both know the bastard can't cast worth a damn," the other said somewhat snappishly. "Starcovert has more power in the functioning halves of her wings than he ever did in his horn. Still surprised she hasn't gelded him yet, with all the crass jokes I hear he cracks on their adventures. Surprised Windwood hasn't turned him into a pin cushion yet, either."

The first barked out a laugh. "Dude, I hear Windwood begs for him in her sleep!" he said. "But seriously, when we found her, she had no practical skills whatsoever—she had to have classes to learn basic things and spells before actually being able to join the military, and had to have physical therapy on top of that just to be able to walk again! I'm amazed she climbed the ranks as quickly as she did!"

"Yeah, she took to the training like a sand slime to a desert," the second agreed. "Hey, you did hear about the catastrophe in Greenwood, right?"

"Oh yeah… would that be grounds to classify Windwood as one of the Children of Catastrophe now?" the first wondered out loud. "And given the miserable state we found her in, there must have been a pretty good reason for her to go against orders to torch the village, and she didn't even have the decency to walk up to the villagers herself first, and announce to them, 'Hey, your town sucks, it's got to go,' or something like that."

Matt sighed, shook his head, and looked at the Crusaders with a flat expression as they turned to regard him with horrified looks. "Anna did what?" Apple Bloom asked in a whisper, unable to comprehend what she was hearing.

"Trust me, you don't want the details—most I can say in a nutshell is that Greenwood was run by elderly maniacs who enabled a set of terror triplets with a horrifying penchant for hurting those in their supposedly tight-knit community who stepped out of line from the established village 'tradition,' and they didn't like foals belonging to outsiders all that much," he whispered, just loud enough for them to hear him. The word 'tradition' turned venomous as he spoke it. His eyes even briefly flashed red when the word left his mouth, as he probably imagined whatever Anna went through to warrant the torching of Greenwood.

"Is it true that… she's an… and Lance…" Scootaloo asked, even as pieces of a puzzle began to fall into place in her head. Was that how Lance… controlled the gryphons during the whole mess of a war? There were spells for that?!

"Anna would skin me if I said anything, and Lance would revoke my breeding rights. And then both might shoot my eyes out afterwards, with extreme prejudice. On a related note, Sarah might impale me with her halberd to keep my trap shut." Matt shook his head, his expression still grave. "Unfortunately for the questions most likely on your mind…" His head dropped, and he frowned deeply. "The answer's 'yes.'"

"What about Natalie?" Sweetie whispered back. "Is she gonna be okay?"

Matt shrugged, lifting his head again. "Her wounds are battle scars. And she's not particularly the type to show them off," he replied. "As I was actually there to see her obtain the scars, I can say this: long, tiring fight with one of the war mechs back in the Trials of Attrition. She's not mad her wings have been halfway amputated; she can just self-levitate to compensate for her flightlessness, and besides, she called it even by amputating Lance's horn off his head." He looked at the trio with a no-nonsense expression reserved for misbehaving soldiers with a failure to communicate. "Also, don't stick any of that in the report either; what you heard here does not leave this guard post under any circumstances, save for what is allowed to be put in the report. Understood?"

Their nod of affirmation eased him somewhat, and he turned back ahead again. They approached, then walked into a room with lit screens and a control panel. The screens were the only light in the room besides Matt's magic, showing off everything surrounding the mountain range and the horizon beyond. The light of the screens was also revealing two changelings, a gold and a green, having a heated discussion between themselves, without noticing they had a peanut gallery full of eavesdroppers listening in on it.

"I'm telling you, the moment we had to treat Windwood for her fractured legs and extreme case of hunger, was the same moment I knew something was up. Her insanity didn't help either; I'm surprised we didn't have to cocoon her to keep her from hurting herself," the green changeling said, shaking his head.

"As bad off as she was back then, I'm amazed she didn't wind up turning into a wraith on us. What would she have done, roll off the gurney? Flail her leg-casts like wet noodles? Not to mention the fact she was pregnant when we found her," the gold changeling agreed with a nod. "Truth be told, there was no helping those twin foals when they came out stillborn; I'm saddened she's still visiting their graves yearly. The Lonesome March must be really rough on her, and what's worse, is it's almost time for it to happen again."

"Yeah, and she can't hear us all the way out here, since she's holed up doing paperwork. That mountain'll eat her sooner than she hears us talking about this," the green changeling said, still frowning ruefully at it all. "And with Lance practically riding her ass to get the paperwork done, I'm amazed he hasn't proposed to her already."

"She's still not legal, dude. And she won't be until she hits twenty-one," the gold soldier said severely, his frown deepening in disapproval. "That's another three years off, at least. And that's if she doesn't geld him first."

At that point, Apple Bloom decided to cut in, if only to stop listening in on this discussion unfit for children. "How do ya get in a real bad shape like that at all?" she asked curtly, causing the two soldiers to jump and turn their heads to spot her and her group. The soldiers freaked out and conjured blasters, but lowered them when they saw Matt raise his hoof to signal a halt. She made to repeat the question, but Matt closed her mouth with his magic and shook his head at her as if to say 'your sister would murder me in my sleep if I told you, and she won't even have the decency to make it a betrayal.'

Matt turned to the soldiers, still wearing the 'what we have here is a failure to communicate' expression. "I can get trying to hide yourselves talking about that one little topic that's liable to have your cotton-stuffed exoskeletons mounted above the nearest fireplace if a certain Lieutenant-General were present to hear about it. And I can also get talking about other, somewhat-related topics of similar nature in conjunction with the first, but can we not talk about any of it in the presence of impressionable children?" he asked bluntly, causing the soldiers to gulp and shakily nod as they moved to stand at attention.

"Yes sir," they mumbled in unison.

The green soldier decided to venture, "Why did you bring kids here, sir?"

"Showing them how things work around here, for a project they're making," Matt said simply. "Also, I will be telling Lance what you were talking about earlier, so you two are not off the hook," he added in a harsh voice.

The soldiers wilted, wings drooping and tails tucking between their hinds as shame flashed in their eyes. "Understood, sir…" they muttered in unison. "Is… that all?"

Matt shook his head, released his magical hold on Apple Bloom's mouth, and nudged her forward with the still-raised hoof. "Go on; they won't shoot as long as I'm here," he said gently. The other Crusaders followed Apple Bloom, and after a moment, so did Katie, who might have strode gamely forward to keep the situation from turning any hairier than it had.

Immediately, the blasters were raised again, this time poised at the wraithling, who did nothing more than quirk a brow and lift her head in response. "Well? Gonna bug up and shoot me with your large guns to compensate for your tiny ovipositors?" she asked, causing the soldiers to falter for a bit. "Or are you gonna stand there and stare like yellow-bellied chickens and flail your hooves for a while longer?"

The soldiers traded looks, well aware of the wraithling's seemingly suicidal bravado. They jerked back to their superior, when his shadows raced out to forcibly lower their weapons for them. "No friendly fire, especially in the presence of children," Matt growled in warning, his eyes beginning to radiate purple and black mist. "Or do you want me to shove my hooves up your asses and wear you both like footwarmers?"

The gold changeling gabbled, flailing a hoof at the wraith. "Y-y-you mean to tell us that—" he started, his eyes almost bugging out completely from his head.

"Yes. Also, she's immortal; your potshots would just make her want to flay you once whatever limbs you shot off regenerate," Matt said, still frowning in disapproval. It seemed like he was now going to have to add 'insubordination' to the list of this pair of changelings' growing woes. "Or cannibalize you, whichever would prove more convenient for her."

Katie turned her head to scowl at Matt, or at least, as much as her split grin would allow. As he was standing behind her, her head rotated a full one-hundred-eighty degrees with a few sickening cracks resulting from the procedure. "Dude… it's practically Changeling Code to not drain your fellow changelings dry," she said severely. "Even I had that drilled into my head before I became hiveless."

"Not that kind of cannibalism; I'm talking about the one where you use your teeth," Matt replied, shaking his head at the wraithling.

"Still not kosher," Katie argued, before turning her head back to the soldiers who were mere seconds from initiating friendly fire right to her scarred face. "Well? Gonna show me how much of a pair of big strong changelings you are, or are you gonna bend over and see reason?" she growled at the pair.

It took a few seconds for the pair to come to their decision, and begrudgingly, they sent their weapons back to the ether. "Alright, alright, what do you ponies want?" the green soldier asked, turning to look at the Crusaders.

Apple Bloom asked first, if only to delay the soldiers' inevitable punishment later. "How do the illusions work around here? Don't they normally go away after being dispelled?" she asked, tilting her head. "Cause I reckon that they must be a special sort; I was taught most illusions break once ya see through 'em."

The green soldier sighed. "Well, the illusions are cast into special gemstones that keep them in effect, acting as a kind of geas upon the magitek they're slotted into," he said. "Basically, cast by a normal unicorn, alicorn, or whatever, illusions dispel once seen through, though depending on who is casting them and what tribe they are might make that task more challenging. But if they are cast into gemstones that keep them active after being seen through, then it makes quick work of altering the illusions if paired with certain other spells, making them that much harder to break overall. It also helps that it depends on the strength of the caster, and Bladerune over there is one of our best in that department."

"You'd practically have to destroy the magitek thoroughly just to break the illusions," the gold soldier added, smiling as the Crusaders began to write the information down on their notepads, though after taking a moment to angle themselves in relation to the light just to see what they were writing. "Which is kinda hard to do, when it seems to phase in and out of reality as it damn well pleases." He wore a bit of a rueful smile on his face. "Well, I see you're one of the three who earned her mark yesterday. Must've been bonkers to fight the sentient virus that's been a thorn in our side for so long."

Apple Bloom grinned, still feeling pride over that. "Ayup, and I bet that virus' masters are madder than Tartarus right now," she agreed. "Never expected a bunch of foals to help land the final blow, and now they must've uttered every word in the book that I ain't allowed to use 'less I get a switching."

"No kidding. Those bastards must be blue in the face right now," the gold soldier agreed.

"Trust me, these kids have guts of steel," Katie agreed, wings buzzing without lifting her off. "And I should know; not many foals their age, or the age when I turned, have had guts of steel."'

The soldiers turned to look at the wraithling with frowns. "Wait, you were a nymph when you became a wraith?" the green one asked, garnering immediate nods from Matt and the Crusaders.

"How else am I so puny?" Katie replied, lifting a hoof to gesture to her body. The soldiers took one moment to double-check her height, and sighed, now feeling a slight sense of relief that they didn't add 'child abuse' to their list of issues, even if said child was technically older than their grandparents.

"How old are you, scrawny noodle?" the gold changeling asked, somewhat exasperated. "I mean now, not when you kicked the can."

"I don't know; I was sealed for much of my unlife," Katie replied with a shrug. "Definitely older than you, though."

The pair of soldiers traded looks. "That's worrying… a changeling who can't remember?" the gold one asked, almost disbelievingly. "Even if she had been hit on the head repeatedly, she should still be able to remember everything…"

"Well… if you're sealed, you might also be unconscious during the whole kerfuffle. So if that's the case, it would make sense she'd have a gap in her memory, despite changelings remembering everything from when they hatch up until they die," the green one replied, before turning back to Katie. "What were you sealed in, and were you conscious?"

"Well… something ate me, so I was kinda sealed in that. I remember feeling warm, gooey, wet flesh and sharp teeth that only scraped me, before I was encased in a giant crystal attached to the thing that ate me. I remember seeing out of that crystal into a cavern with a hall, lined with torches on both sides, and spiked, rune-engraved chains presumably anchored to the entity in question," Katie replied, drawing a sharp gasp from Matt and the soldiers as she made the confession. "Also, I… was conscious, but kinda lost my mind, and had forgotten more than a few faces that showed up to prod around the cavern like dumbasses, so… I had to take a year or two after being unsealed just to reconfirm reality itself…"

The Crusaders turned to her, confusion flashing in their eyes and arching their brows. "Do you know what the thing that ate you was called?" Scootaloo asked, before noticing Matt's very pale face, wide eyes, and shrunken pupils. She turned to him and pressed further, "And what's with you? You look like you've seen a ghost…"

"I… I think I know what… or rather, who, she's talking about…" Matt muttered quietly, his face continuing to drain itself of whatever color it could grab in the somewhat darkened room. He turned to the Crusaders and added, "Let's just say I fought the entity in question with Natalie and Lance, after accidentally awakening it and nearly dying because it drained much of our magic… and we've successfully slain him. But if he had changelings and such sealed in him…"

The Crusaders paled at the implications. Katie did too, an impressive feat given her complexion. "So… there might be other things running around because of that?" Scootaloo ventured.

Matt grimly nodded. "I mean… I'm not a hundred percent sure about this, but… if there are, we have to take immediate precautions…" He turned to Katie again. "You're going to tell us what went down before your sealing after these three have headed home. Do you remember what happened before the teeth from hell came clamping down on you?"

Katie nodded. "As sure as my hatching," she said.

"Okay, that's… that's a start." He turned to the trio again. "But first, we have a report to wrap up." He trotted over and pulled them into a hug. Somewhat confused, they hugged back, unsure as to what had grabbed Matt's goat and slammed it on its head by the horns, but guessed that it was a pretty bad situation given his expression. "Also, you three are going to get an explanation of what the hell I'm on about, since you're now… enough in the know to require it. Though only after this whole mess is cleaned up first."

The Crusaders nodded, and waited for him to yield his hold before parting from the hug. They turned back to the soldiers, who were still struggling to regain their composure. They could hardly be blamed for their pale faces; apparently, they knew what was up, and the trio had learned enough from their eavesdropping to avoid pressing the issue further.

But at least whatever mess was on Fantasia would hopefully be contained onto the planet, right?

The trio had to shake their worries for their Fantasian neighbors aside; the assignment wasn't going to finish itself, after all. "So how many tunnels do you have in the guard posts, and do they connect to the Aerie at all?" Sweetie asked, though with some trepidation in her voice as she struggled to shelve the worry away for another day.

"Honestly, we've lost count of the tunnels," the green soldier answered with a shrug, his composure returning to his features. "However, we have one tunnel in every guard post that connects to the Aerie, which all lead us to…" He wilted a bit. "The Graveyard of the Forgotten."

"The Graveyard of the Forgotten?" Scootaloo asked, tilting her head. "Is that where the dead from the Trials of Attrition are resting?"

The gold soldier shook his head. "No, no; the fallen have all received proper funerary rights in ash urns, and are held in a series of separate graveyards in the guard posts, which are connected to the tunnels that lead us to the Graveyard of the Forgotten," he answered. "The Graveyard of the Forgotten is where we… bury those we could not save, those who wound up forgotten by Fantasian society at large. It's a reminder of our failures; a reminder that we could have been quicker, stronger, better, smarter… but fell short." His expression turned solemn. "Lieutenant-General Windwood avoids it like the plague."

The trio jotted the information down, though they wisely kept out a few key details that would have ponies back home asking even more uncomfortable questions than they had asked their sisters and idol regarding a particularly sordid newsprint. "Is it full of hatred and despair?" Sweetie asked, turning to the soldiers.

The green one glumly nodded. "Yes, though only contained in the ashes of those who received full funerary rights, which… is pretty much every tombstone, and casketed slot available. We have to avoid touching them, or else we might go into shock," he said in a severe tone of voice. "Put it like this: barring… two exceptions at most, every creature we failed to save has died cursing their existence, their former communities, and even us for not making it in time to actually be able to intervene."

"And each and every time, without fail, they were so consumed by those emotions we had to burn their bodies as soon as they passed, just to keep them from returning as particularly pissed wraiths," the gold soldier said, shaking his head. "Windwood was one of the few we could save in time, and she was cutting it pretty close to death herself. And she's nuttier than even Lance was, when he was geased." He glanced at Katie and added, "How a changeling could come back as a wraith… boggles us. We're literally the one species that we know of on both sister worlds that should not be able to join the ranks of undead, due to the whole certain-emotions-being-literally-toxic issue."

"She's a physical wraith, too. Most of the time, wraiths are… intangible. Ghostlike. Usually hiding in cloaks and conjuring whatever element they died to," the green soldier said, frowning. "Which makes her over there an anomaly. And the physical wraiths… they're ten times worse than those dispossessed of their bodies. Stronger, harder to kill, mad as hell… it's as if they are so angry they literally refuse to die. But there is a way to kill them."

"Drain them of their hate and despair?" Apple Bloom asked, to which the soldiers and Katie nodded.

"Which is a lot harder than it sounds. The bastards won't even keep still long enough for the attempt to be made," the gold soldier replied. "And they have enough to kill an entire changeling hive in their bodies, making it… inadvisable to slay them that way. Pumping them full of love, however, does weaken them, but weakens the changeling who does that in turn, making that inadvisable as well."

The Crusaders took another moment to jot down some more information, making a tiny little section about the wraiths to avoid confusing their classmates, even drawing distinctions between the tangible ones and intangible ones. Of course, they tactfully neglected to mention their undead chaperone, who was standing not even three feet away from them watching them write.

"Are any of the tunnels dead ends?" Apple Bloom asked.

The green soldier nodded. "At least three-quarters of them are in the guard posts; any enemy that wants to waltz in and disable us through shutting these babies down will just find themselves in a seemingly endless maze with no way out, assuming they don't get detained and thoroughly questioned by one of us first, or shot down by the magitek inside and outside of the posts without being scanned first," he answered. "Those who… expire before we can get to them, of which there have only been three so far are given the same rights and privileges for their funerals, and subsequently placed in the Graveyard of the Forgotten."

"Do those in the Graveyard have any names?" Sweetie pressed.

The pair of soldiers shook their heads. "Not even the… exceptions who died without hatred and despair in their hearts have names," they said in unison.

The Crusaders turned to Matt and asked in unison, "How many soldiers are in each guard post?"

Matt frowned, eyes gravitating to the ceiling as he did numbers in his head. "In each post… roughly ten thousand a piece, and they all swap shifts with other soldiers to keep from going too stir-crazy," he said with a shrug. "Count that with the Aerie's population of five-hundred thousand, three-quarters of which are gryphons, most of which are either in active service or too young to be in service… we have a pretty sizable army."

"And how many guard posts do you have in total?" Sweetie pressed.

"A grand total of a hundred, scattered across the entire surrounding mountain range," Matt said without missing a beat. "Which totals about a million soldiers, three-quarters of which are changelings, overall." The trio's jaws promptly dropped. The Aerie effectively had enough numbers to stronghoof the rest of Fantasia into submission if the entire force were of a mind to?!

"Of course," Matt continued, "changelings are… prolific in their breeding, and with the slime ranch are easily able to make a thousand grubs per couple, if that couple were to party around and breed with other couples, though most only take the sedate approach and pop out several dozen per clutch… and that's comparable to the gryphons' modest numbers of up to a dozen per litter, with individual nurseries for gryphon couples to rear their young in…"

"Whoa…" Scootaloo gasped, and turned to the soldiers. "And all the grubs are raised in the hatchery, right? At the same time?"

The soldiers nodded. "Though, we watch them in shifts too. And each changeling set of parents only have several dozen in the most recent clutches, or are raising older nymphs," the green one said with a blaise shrug of his shoulders. "We're not so keen on taking over the world through overpopulating it; that's a bit impractical in the long run." He grinned a bit. "We let the General and his right hooves… barring one exception—" The Crusaders didn't need to ask who that exception probably was, and dared not interject in the slightest, "—watch them sometimes. The little ones have taken a particular liking to Lance, sometimes clinging to his body and chewing on his uniform."

"And hissing their little heads off at him," the gold soldier added, smirking at the thought. The trio wasted no time jotting down the relevant info, taking the time to do the math in their heads and on their papers; better to show the work and get a better grade, than to bungle it up and render their extra credit moot.

The gold soldier conjured a photograph and gave it to the trio, and they looked at it and snickered as it captured Lance's priceless, wide-eyed expression as he had grubs under his hat, looking like they were about to make off with it. As the grubs on his head conspired against him, there were other grubs gathered at his hooves, all of them hissing at him as they looked about ready to cart him off completely. His wings were probably hidden under his coat, but even so he seemed more concerned with the grubs attempting to steal his hat.

"Of course, the grubs get a little bit inventive. We had to break him out of a cocoon once, when the little ones figured out how to make chitil," the gold soldier said, grinning wistfully. "And this batch has a lot of fast learners; they might be getting blaster training before their twelfth molt."

"Molt?" Scootaloo asked.

"Changelings shed their skin like a snake, even though they have internal bones. It's because their exoskeleton can only hold so much flesh and bone before it pops open like a grape, though not before a new one forms underneath it to keep the goods protected," Katie said with a shrug and a roll of her orbs. "They have a molt once they become a nymph, every year until they hit twenty-one, which is their last molt, barring any royalty, who have supposedly had more molts to compensate for their long legs."

"Which is part of why our age of consent is twenty-one around here," the green soldier said. "Of course… we do have other reasons, but I'm not allowed to disclose them because Bladerune is standing right over there, and I do not want to become one of his leg warmers," he added, with a pointed glance at his superior as he shuddered at the thought. "But mostly we settled on that because nobody could really agree on anything else."

Scootaloo tilted her head. "Huh… I heard in biology class that Equestria's age of consent is eighteen… or was that health class?" she muttered.

"Health class. Not sure why they taught us that load of hooey, and made me wonder why ponies can even get pregnant before eighteen, when—" At that moment, shadows raced over to clamp Sweetie Belle's mouth shut.

"Your sister would stitch my writhing soul to the lining of a new fur coat, don't exacerbate the issue, thank you," Matt growled, one of his eyes twitching as he spoke. Sweetie Belle nodded, and relaxed as the shadows let go of her muzzle.

The soldiers looked at their superior. "They have sisters?" the gold one asked, gesturing to the Crusaders.

"Two sisters and an idol, distributed evenly amongst them," Matt confirmed, his eye still twitching. "And they would knock me absolutely senseless if these three tattle on us."

The soldiers nodded in understanding. "Very well." They turned to the Crusaders. "Is that all?"

Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, and Sweetie Belle traded looks, and returned the glances with a single nod. "That about covers it, I reckon," Apple Bloom answered.

The green soldier patted their heads and watched them turn to trot away, information in hoof. "And remember, kids: loose lips sink airships." When he garnered odd looks, he extrapolated, "Nothing you heard out of our mouths will do you any good if you tell anyone back home—it'll probably cause a mass panic attack, among other things."

"Okay!" the Crusaders said, and waved goodbye as they departed the room with Matt and Katie, leaving the soldiers alone.

Eventually, after the silence had settled, the pair heard static coming from the screens, and turned to them before they could say anything. They gulped upon finding the scowling face of Lance glaring them up and down, a snort leaving his nostrils as his wings shuffled for a bit and his hooves came to rest on his desk. Before the pair could do anything to defend themselves, he spoke in a chilling voice, "Godcat-damnit, how many times have I told you gossips to shut up about certain topics?"

The pair faltered. "Um… three times before you departed for Mythos, sir?" they stammered in unison.

Lance nodded, his expression hardening. "And you two numbskulls didn't think I wouldn't be listening in on every single guard post, as soon as Bladerune announced to me he was chaperoning the children towards one of them? Furthermore—" He whipped whatever device was allowing him to communicate with the insubordinate, inconsiderate idiots, turning it away from the desk to reveal basically all of the adult, visiting Mythonians plus Spike, each of whom looked about green in the face and fit to vomit.

He turned the device back around once the soldiers had time to let it sink in that Lance wasn't the only one who had heard the discussion, before plopping the device back on his desk. "—I happened to be in the middle of a very important discussion when you two started flapping your gums carelessly, and now I have to explain to our fine guests the full story, thanks for that by the way," he hissed, his glare growing cold and even more narrow than it was before. "Well? What was your reasoning for sinking airships, knowing children might listen in on it?"

Silence answered him. In the darkness of the room, it was the ultimate damnation. Lance snorted again. "Since you two can't keep your damn traps shut, I'm going to assign you to other duties. Starting tomorrow, and until further notice, you're going to document, in triplicate, who enters and who leaves the Graveyard of the Forgotten. Is that understood?"

The pair paled, but nonetheless had to suck it up and face the music, lest they enrage Lance even further than before. "U-understood, sir," they said in unison.

"Good," Lance hissed. "Dismissed." With that, the screens reverted back to showing everything surrounding the guard post, leaving them to ruminate on the nature of their punishment.

Fifth Day, Evening—Anger Management

The Crusaders were making the end notes for the next chapter of their report in their room, though the task was made somewhat difficult with their sisters, idol, and sisters' friends not even three feet away from them, discussing… certain tragic events that the adults of Greenwood really should have stopped before it reached 'steaming tea kettle' levels of insanity. Worse, Shining Armor, Prince Blueblood, Spike, Zecora, and a guard named Flash Sentry had joined in on the madness, though those five only did their bantering occasionally, preferring to talk amongst themselves regarding the troubling information they had heard.

"So… two idiots shot their mouths off, and now you three have… information you really shouldn't have heard…" Rainbow said, shaking her head. "Seriously, I thought some of the soldiers around here had more sense than that…"

"Well… if'n you've just found out that one of your superiors had her wings…" Applejack averted her gaze briefly, searching for child-friendly words, "taken off her body, then chances are yer gonna get some people talking about it. Can't exactly stop the gravy train once it gets rolling, Dash." She sighed. "And she's got the scars on her back to prove it; can't get much more attention from the soldiers than having them seeing that."

Rarity looked about fit to madly stitch together several new outfits in rapid succession; her mane was frazzled and rumpled, her ears were pinned back, and if the Crusaders had to guess, she might have already gotten started on some new designs to cope with the stress. "The poor dear… having all of that happen to her must have made her snap. It was unfortunate enough that we had to listen in on that dreadful conversation while we were discussing with Lance regarding what to do about Redpine…" Her head shook gravely. "No wonder she's not socializing with the former villagers of Greenwood that much."

"If anything, she still looks about ready to punch somepony in the face if they even try to defend their former traditions," Twilight agreed with a nod. "I can already imagine how she feels right now, since Matt probably told her that she was a gossip topic by now." As if summoned from the gates of hell, the door to the room slammed open, and all turned to find a red-faced, shaking Anna standing in the frame, trying her hardest to not glare at those presently in the room. She was whuffling and wheezing, seemingly unsure over whether to start crying or start ripping ponies' heads off.

The Crusaders knew, fully well, the look of someone about to scream her head off, and dared not breathe a sigh of relief as Pinkie slammed into Anna at practically light speed, wrapping her in the tightest hug yet. Anna faltered, her glare softening a little, before she gingerly returned the hug. "Greenwood made you unable to giggle at the ghosties… that is unacceptable," Pinkie said in a quiet, severe tone of voice. "We have got to break the remaining villagers out of thinking that what happened was okay."

Uh-oh, Pinkie sounded like she was on the warpath. The Crusaders began to pity the former villagers all of a sudden, and they didn't know why. "But… they…" Anna stammered, only to be shushed by Pinkie.

"No, no, it's gonna be okay. You don't worry about those party poopers tomorrow; let me take care of it. You just take it easy and head to whatever sparring rooms you have, okay?" Pinkie said, shaking her head. Fluttershy moved to flank her, and together they escorted the youngest Lieutenant-General out of the room, closing the door behind them as they went.

"This sounds almost blasphemous for me to say, but now I'm starting to think Greenwood ruined her birthdays too…" Twilight muttered sadly, frowning ruefully at the thought.

"No wonder she's bonkers," Rainbow agreed with a nod, her voice subdued as she spoke. Her eyes gravitated to the ceiling as she began to think. "I would ask Sarah about it, see if we can learn what day their birthday is, but I think she might claw my face off if I said anything to her…"

"Well, it was a good thing the military found 'er, then," Applejack said, closing her eyes and sighing. "Least… least she can get better here."

Twilight's face turned solemn. "I wonder if… if her parents are proud of her up there…" she said, glancing briefly upwards as she said that.

Applejack winced at that. "Her too…" she muttered, Twilight's remark seeming to resonate with her soul on some level. "There ain't gonna be no healing from that, if Greenwood did her dirty like that…"

Twilight gravely nodded, her gaze pointedly fixed on the closed door. "They did," she said softly. "They became wraiths… and chose death, even then… Rubywing told me everything."

Applejack's face softened, her brows slanting and her eyes shining at that. "No wonder she don't want to lead the villagers… they did her dirty every way they could…" she hissed, eyes narrowing at the thought.

It wasn't long before those gathered in the room heard a guttural scream echo from the hallway. The Crusaders set their report down, sharing uneasy glances to one another. Sweetie Belle grabbed one of their saddlebags and put it over her back using her magic, squirreling the notes, the photographs for their references, and pencils away for the time being. As one, they trotted to the door, unsure of what they would find, yet knowing that whatever laid beyond the door would be a terrible sight to witness.

Applejack took notice of them heading for the door. "Where're y'all going?" she asked.

"To see if Anna's okay," Apple Bloom replied, frowning. "Or to see if we can help 'er feel better."

Applejack strode forward. "I don't think y'all can make her feel better right away," she said, shaking her head. "Ya sure ya wanna try? Because that mare has a lot of pain that still ain't healed yet, and won't probably start to heal until the villagers get in line."

"But we gotta try, otherwise she won't ever get better!" Sweetie argued, her face hardening a little as she stamped a hoof. "She's gotta be in a good mood to help run the military, right? If she isn't, the military will suffer!"

Applejack paused to consider that. Shining trotted forward, his expression equally as grim. "The kid's right. You can't have soldiers who are unwilling or feeling miserable; otherwise, it's disastrous all around," he said firmly. He turned to Applejack and added, "You guys, think of something big… like, a party, or something similar in nature. I'll help the youngsters lift Windwood's spirits up."

With that, the Crusaders and Shining opened the door and left the room, and indeed, a horrible sight did greet them; Anna was clutching Maria something fierce, sobbing loudly, face shrouded by her hair and ears pinned all the way back. Maria struggled in her grip, but it was no use; the wooden claws held her tightly in place, rendering her thrashing pointless. Pinkie and Fluttershy were holding Anna in turn, the former with her mane deflating and the latter using her wings to cradle everyone.

"Mommy! Why won't you let me go?!" Maria demanded, still struggling to no avail. Anna just clutched her tighter, still wailing as grief consumed her. She even tried scratching her, but the wood proved tough to crack, her claws only raking across its surface and scoring it faintly.

Shining trotted up and nudged them with his magic. "We need to take these two to a room," he said, when Fluttershy and Pinkie looked at him. Both nodded, and moved to another room that Shining went to unlatch the door of. As soon as everyone was inside, and the door closed, Anna began to babble incomprehensibly.

"I-I-I… di-didn't…" was all they could make out. Shining trotted over to pat Anna's withers, and he did so gently to avoid startling her.

"Hey, nopony asks for such awful things to happen to them," Shining replied softly. "And nopony can expect to be on top of everything at once, because they can't be everywhere at once."

"But… if I-I don't… I'll have… h-have failed…" Anna mumbled, curling in further on herself, only to wince as Maria scratched her chest to force her to relax her grip.

Shining frowned at that. The Crusaders approached, with Sweetie Belle putting a hoof on Anna's shoulder. "But you're not a failure; you're more awesome than most ponies give you credit for," she said gently. When Anna looked at her, she elaborated, "You have your cutie mark, you're helping run a military, you have your sister…" Sweetie's eyes trailed down to the still-thrashing Maria, "and a daughter, although you're squeezing her a bit too tightly for her liking." At that, Anna loosened her hold on the young hippogryph, allowing her to squirm past her forelegs.

Maria took a moment to flex her wings and rub the back of her head as she regarded her mother. "Mommy, who made you sad?" she asked, frowning. "And can I rip their face off?"

Shining looked at Maria and shook his head. "You can't, on the grounds that someone… or something has probably beat you to that punch," he said. "And as it stands, Godcat's probably doing that for you, so…"

Maria's frown deepened. "The creator cat's doing bad things to the bad ponies?" she guessed. Shining nodded.

Anna wilted a bit. "But…" she began, only to be shushed by Pinkie.

"You're not a failure. That's final; to Tartarus what the meany-pants fun-destroyers said about you in the past. They can't tell anypony anything like that ever again," Pinkie said gently. "They were just trying to destroy you to keep you from telling them what a bunch of hooey their so-called 'traditions' were."

Anna wilted, her head hanging in shame. She didn't say anything.

Fluttershy rubbed Anna's back with her wing. "Pinkie's right; you're letting them have control over you, even now. Don't you want to be the one in control instead of the other way around?" she asked, garnering a hesitant nod from the Lieutenant-General. "Then stop thinking about what those ponies have said to you before the Aerie found you. I know… it sounds extremely difficult to do, but it's possible. What those ponies said before doesn't matter anymore—unless you let it."

"The less power you give them," Shining began sagely, "the less they can influence you from beyond the grave. It's one thing to shed light on their crimes, and teach the younger generations to avoid following in their hoofsteps. It's another thing entirely to keep feeding them power that they do not deserve and have never earned. You're better than this—you're proving them wrong merely by continuing to live. It's still too soon to forgive them, but you can diminish their power by influencing the remaining villagers to not act like them, okay?"

Anna slowly, almost hesitantly, nodded. Maria went over to give her a hug. "The bad ponies are gone, mommy. And if they show up, you can tell them to shut up," she said. Anna returned the hug, and sighed bitterly.

Pinkie took a moment to get the hamster wheels of her brain to start working, before she asked, "How about this: does the military have training dummies?" At Anna's slow nod, she said, "Then we head to where the training dummies are at, and you get to beat them until they crack like piñatas. Actually…" Gears spun in Pinkie's head, and she wore a rueful, evil smile. "I have an even better idea."

"Wh-what is it?" Anna whuffled, taking a moment to wipe her face on her foreleg. A few vines brushed up against her snout, but no splinters pierced her hide.

"Teleport us to where you keep the training dummies," Pinkie said in a clipped tone. Anna, confused, followed the command, and soon everyone vanished from the room with a flash of her horn. They reappeared inside a large room, divided into sections, and filled with blaster fire from multiple directions. Each section was separated by rune-engraved glass, showing soldiers of various ranks firing at wooden, rune-engraved dummies on sturdy metal posts, or watching the other soldiers take their potshots.

Pinkie contemplated the dummies, and put a hoof to her chin. "Hrm, too loud in here… and those metal posts might be a hoof breaker…" she muttered, before shaking her head. "Do you have any spares you don't use anymore?"

Anna weakly nodded, lighting her horn again. She teleported the group before any soldiers could notice she was there, and brought them to a hallway with a few doors, all marked by signs sporting crystals in their surfaces. She opened the first one on the left, revealing a massive room piled high with boxes, chests, and more than a few broken training dummies that had seen far better days, fortunately dispossessed of their metal posts and still somewhat intact otherwise. Pinkie dove in right away, sorting through the pile of stuff with purpose.

In moments, Pinkie emerged with more than a few dummies gathered haphazardly in her forelegs, and the poofiness began to return to her mane somewhat as she stood on her hinds just to hold it all. "I know just the thing to make many of those bad feelings go away, but I'm gonna need more materials," she said. "Scootaloo, are there any changeling soldiers nearby?"

Scootaloo looked around, and found a soldier rounding a bend, his buzzing wings announcing his presence. "Yep!" she reported.

"Okay, we need chitil," Pinkie instructed. "Could you get some from him?"

Scootaloo nodded, and went to approach the soldier. "Hey, could I borrow some chitil?" she asked as soon as they both skid to a halt.

The soldier tilted his head. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

Scootaloo nodded. "And we need to put something together to make it better," she answered truthfully. The soldier mulled it over, took one look at those Scootaloo accompanied, then relented, lit up his horn and produced a wad of chitil half as big as she was before plopping it on her back.

"If you need any more chitil, just hit one of us up," the soldier said, before heading off in another direction. Scootaloo grinned and raced back over to the group, careful to keep the chitil tucked between her wings. It didn't drip or ooze or do anything of the sort, just wibbled and wobbled on her back like a particular desert back home.

"Now then," Pinkie continued, grinning behind the mound of dummies she had gathered in her grasp. "We need one more thing: papers and pencils, and big enough to lay on the dummies' heads."

Shining's eyes widened, catching on to what Pinkie was planning. "You mean you're wanting to build something like dartboards, with the faces of Greenwood's wicked plastered onto them?" he asked, mentally kicking himself for not figuring it out sooner.

"Well, duh! They encouraged all sorts of bad things when they were around, and besides, they must have ruined more than one birthday before Godcat decided to tell them She didn't like them," Pinkie answered, nodding carefully to avoid disturbing the pile in her hooves too much. "And Anna's gotta get rid of the bad feelings one way or another; she didn't get a chance to give those meanies a piece of her mind! This might not get rid of all the bad juju she has built up, but this'll take a great big chunk out of it and make her think straight again!"

"And you're not even gonna stuff it with candy?" Shining asked.

Pinkie shook her head. "No; she'll probably destroy the dummies entirely. That's a waste of sweets," she replied evenly. "Besides, we don't want her associating plotheads with candy." She turned to Anna, or at least, as much as the pile of dummies would allow her to and asked, "Do you have blank sheets of paper in the Office of Doom?"

Anna nodded, and promptly teleported the group over to the Office of Doom, still crammed with paperwork that was liable to eat anyone who set foot into it. She trotted inside, careful to avoid disturbing the stacks of unsorted papers, and came out after a few moments, with a whole sheaf of papers as thick as a pony's hoof levitating at her side, as well as various colors of ink and quills.

"Now, we just need to cobble everything together," Pinkie said. "And a quiet room." Anna nodded, and teleported them into the room they had left from earlier, whereupon Pinkie plopped the dummies on the floor and grabbed the chitil off of Scootaloo's backside. She turned to Anna and said, "Draw the faces of those meanies on every single paper you can; accuracy doesn't matter, just that they're recognizable to you." Her hooves were a flurry of motion after the command; she glued pieces together lickety-split and even took the time to make sure they were secure first before gluing new pieces onto whatever conglomeration she was hatching.

The Crusaders watched, even as Sweetie Belle handed her friends their notepads and pencils to continue writing down information on their report. They weren't the only ones scribbling; Anna found a table, opened the ink and began scrawling on the papers she had gathered. Her movements quickly became more harried, and before long she began screaming her head off as she drew, coming close to ripping the papers a few times before managing to control herself.

In fact, it didn't take her more than maybe five minutes to finish scribbling down the faces of those of Greenwood who had wronged her; by the same token, Pinkie cobbled together a multi-headed, multi-armed dummy standing on a myriad of legs, like some kind of monster that Discord would have made for fits and giggles. Pinkie had some leftover chitil, and once she was handed the sheets that had been drawn on, wasted no time using said chitil to tape the papers onto the wooden monstrosity.

The trio noticed a disturbing trend with the papers, or more accurately, the drawings scribbled onto them: save for three almost completely identical faces belonging to evidently young-looking, dark-furred unicorn stallions with piercing red eyes, every single face present on the papers had wrinkles, bald spots in their manes, thin wiry hair, and other such features associated with the elderly. Furthermore, each and every pony was scowling, or sneering, or some combination thereof, and all had red splotches on their hides, as though they had spilled blood—whose blood, how and why, the trio did not want to guess.

But there were more papers than dummy heads, so Pinkie decided to improvise, putting the papers on the arms and the haphazardly-stitched chest and just about every place on the head until it looked like a papier-mâché abomination wearing a myriad of different, blood-splattered faces. The Crusaders noticed another quirk of the drawings; the faces either had horns or none at all, and Sweetie decided to ask about it: "Were there any pegasi in Greenwood?"

Anna shook her head. "No. They hated winged children," she said, without elaborating why. Then again, given the scars on her back, maybe that elaboration was better left in the dark where it belonged.

"Okay, everypony: make a hole, make a hole," Pinkie ordered as soon as the last paper face had been glued on. She moved to direct everypony to the far end of the room, and Shining took his cue to create a shield to dome off the paper-creature and Anna to keep the property damage from getting too high. Maria tried to get a closer look, but was grabbed by Pinkie and plunked with the Crusaders.

"But I wanna help mommy!" Maria complained, making another move towards her mother before Pinkie moved to grab her again.

"This is something she's got to do herself. But, you can give her sweets tomorrow—that fair?" Pinkie asked, garnering a nod and a reluctant grumble from Maria.

It wasn't long before the screaming, muted by the shield, ripped its way from Anna's throat once again as she went completely insane upon the massive dummy abomination. She scratched, she kicked, she bit, she impaled it with arrows, poison ivy, and even bamboo skewers that had been ripped from the ground at some point, utterly thrashing the perceived enemy to her sanity, safety, and existence. She did not relent; her body was a flurry of hooves, magic and raw pain that influenced her spellcasting, whaling on that which bore the faces of her apparently numerous tormentors.

The trio alternated between jotting down the next chapter of their report, and watching the beatdown take place. "Well, she's checking that dummy into the Smackdown Motel," Pinkie said, watching as the dummy got beaten to within an inch of its life and beyond. It was almost frightening, the complete shift in the Lieutenant-General's demeanor; the Crusaders could hardly be pressed to find anypony they knew with as much concentrated rage in their blood in comparison. No wonder the soldiers who shot their mouths off said she had cut it close to becoming a wraith; she had as much anger in her as Ponyville had when the Fantasians first arrived in Equestria.

"Erm… she's certainly vicious," Shining idly remarked, watching the rather one-sided 'battle.' "Now I see why the soldiers aren't allowed to talk about some things with her…" He turned to the trio, and trotted over to them to watch them write. "Are you three going to include anything about Greenwood?"

"Nope," Sweetie Belle answered. "Most we're putting in the report was that it was one of the territories claimed during the Trials of Attrition." Which, while technically true, wouldn't have given the town in question anymore attention than it already had. Besides, if it had a bit of a bad reputation as a nuthouse, then maybe it shouldn't be under any spotlight if they could help it.

She promptly traded notes with Scootaloo and Apple Bloom, and reviewed what they had so far. Welp, the third, fourth, and fifth chapters of their report were done, and the sixth was about three-quarters of the way done by Sweetie's estimates. Of course, they needed to figure out how to get started on the seventh chapter, but that could wait until they wrapped up the sixth chapter of their report. They went back to reviewing their notes, just to make sure their ducks were in a row.

The Aerie has guard posts surrounding its base of operations, a hundred posts total that are all hidden in the surrounding mountain range, complete with their own gardens, magitek, and extensive tunnels that are mostly dead ends, save for one tunnel in each one that connects to the Aerie itself. The tunnels in the guard posts are not made of the same material as the hive portion of the Aerie, so they do not shapeshift; rather, they use illusions to mask their passageways, and pheromones and special magitek that tell them where to go.

The crystals used for the Aerie's magitek not only charges it and imbues it with special properties, but can have spells cast into them to replicate the effects of an ordinary spellcaster. For instance, the guard posts have illusion-based crystals used to disguise them, serving a twofold purpose: to hide the true size of the Aerie's army, and to watch for any signs of danger and relay any information back to the main base in a safe, timely fashion. Illusions cast this way are more difficult to see through, and break than if they were simply cast through a unicorn or changeling's horn.

The single tunnels leading back to the Aerie connect to a forlorn place known only as the Graveyard of the Forgotten, a place where those cast aside by Fantasian society, who are subsequently found by the Aerie, are buried with full funerary rights. However, due to those who were cast aside having as much anger and despair as ten ponies, all bodies are cremated, to prevent the dead from returning as vengeful wraiths. There are two types of wraiths: the intangible, which are ghost-like, weak, and use whatever element they died to, and the tangible, which are physical, harder to kill, and mad as Tartarus. Wherever found, unless a wraith is willing to see reason, they are typically slain by the Aerie.

The Graveyard of the Forgotten is considered toxic by changeling standards, due to the ashes of those buried there containing their hatred and sadness, which in turn has affected the plots of land the graves are marked by. Changelings cannot touch any grave without going into shock, so they avoid it at all costs, or flit through the air if they must traverse through it. It is located deep beneath the Aerie, hidden from the rest of Fantasia at large.

Few enemies have managed to get past the Aerie's guard posts successfully, or even enter them at all for that matter. Only a recorded three have perished in the endless mazes of the guard posts, and all others have been detained for questioning. This is accomplished by magitek, which is used to communicate long-distance with the Aerie, and to monitor the surrounding landscape for any signs of trouble.

The Aerie's total population, combined with the guard posts, is one million, five hundred thousand, with the changelings outnumbering the gryphons three-to-two. This is because the changelings can lay multiple eggs in one sitting, upwards of several dozen if they only stay in one couple, compared to the gryphons' more manageable dozen-or-less per litter. The ratio at this time may grow yet, or it may even out if the changelings ramp up or slow their population replacement for whatever reason.

There are multiple cemeteries within the guard posts, where the dead from the Trials of Attrition rest with full funerary rights. All are connected to the tunnels that lead to the Graveyard of the Forgotten, but get much more traffic than the Graveyard due to the dead within the cemeteries not being afflicted with rage and hate as they have died. Every soldier changing shifts has to tread through both graveyards to make it to, and from, the Aerie.

While the guard posts have gates, they're built to keep intruders out, rather than to let anyone inside. They are armed with turrets, tanks, drones, and cannons, each one also fitted with the illusion-making crystals that let them blend into their surroundings. In order to break the illusions over the guard posts, one would have to take the difficult feat of disabling all of the magitek within the area, an immensely suicidal task to perform since one would not be able to see the weapons, much less be able to tell what hit them in the end. The gates, too, are fitted with the illusion crystals, and crafted of the sturdiest steel the Aerie can cultivate from the factory, making the task of penetrating the guard posts to get to the Aerie that way even more difficult.

The trio looked up at Shining's shield, and found that Anna was still a little bit preoccupied with tearing the wooden dummy a new one; the papers were shredded, it was halfway reduced to splinters, and she was still thrashing it like no tomorrow, stomping on it like a foal on a trampoline. She was still shouting as well, turning from red to purple as she made passes at the dummy's many legs… or more specifically, between the dummy's many legs as she continued with her tarantella.

"Wow. She's still mad?" Sweetie asked, somewhat worried about her Fantasian military friend.

"Looks like. She's going for the apple tree's forks, too," Apple Bloom said, shaking her head. "Reckon most of the ponies who hurt her were stallions."

"And why would full-grown stallions be okay with whatever was done to her?" Scootaloo asked, before receiving a sharp look from Pinkie Pie.

"I don't want to understand the reasoning of the ponies who probably ruined her birthday," Pinkie said curtly.

"Neither do I," Shining agreed with a nod. "Let's just wait for her to calm down first."

"We should probably check her for splinters after she's done. I don't want her to get an infection…" Fluttershy muttered, still mesmerized by the absolute walloping the dummy was still receiving. Though, they had to wait until her face started turning blue to intervene; by then, the dummy wasn't even recognizable as a dummy, and neither were the now-shredded paper faces recognizable as anything other than tiny scraps in a splinter pile. The shield had dropped as she kept stomping on the splinters until Shining magically lifted her into the air.

Anna growled for a moment, but it died midway out of her throat when her body reminded her that she needed to breathe. "Deep breaths," Shining instructed, watching as she heeded his advice and took the deepest breaths she could get. Gently, he set her on the floor as her legs went slack in the air, though he kept his magical hold on her to steady her nonetheless. Slowly, her face went from blue to its normal tan-beige, albeit with a tinge of red from exertion and fleeting rage. "Do you feel better?" he asked, garnering a slow, breathless nod from her in response.

At that point, Maria was let go, and she ran to her mother with worry flashing in her eyes. She hugged her leg, wings flapping as she looked up to meet Anna's tired gaze. "Are you sure you're gonna be okay?" she asked, to which Anna shakily nodded and lifted her other claw to pat her head. "You need some food," she said.

Anna wheezed and shook her head. "Not… not hungry…" she muttered.

"But you didn't eat dinner with everyone else! You need to eat!" Maria pleaded, wings flapping harder. "Please eat something, mommy. I don't want to see you sad anymore."

Shining smiled, and conjured a food tray from the ether, laden with various meats and vegetables and breads, still warm as if sent to the ether that way. He gave it to Anna without another word, and hesitantly, her horn lit up and grasped the tray before she started bringing food to her mouth. Soon she was tucking in and eating with gusto, though not to the extent of cramming so much food into her mouth as to choke on it. Maria smiled as she watched her eat, and let go of her leg to give her a little more breathing room.

He turned to the Crusaders once he was sure Anna would be fed and, more importantly, coherently sane for the night. They had their eyes on him, watching hawkishly. "Has the bomb been diffused yet?" Sweetie asked worriedly.

Shining glanced back over his shoulders before slowly nodding. "I think we should be safe for the night," he said in reply. He looked at the trio with a frown. "Are you girls gonna be okay for the night, though?"

"If'n we have any nightmares, we'll just have Princess Luna help us through them," Apple Bloom said with a shrug. "And if'n we can't, we'll just push on through tomorrow anyhow. As I see it, Discord's second reign of terror was more awful cause I'd actually been there to live it."

"... weird, but okay," Shining mumbled under his breath, before straightening his posture. "You sure?" he pressed.

"Ayep," Apple Bloom replied, with much nodding from her best friends. Shining relented, and trotted over to them to see their report.

"What all have you got?" he asked.

Scootaloo and the other two looked over their notes and chapters, and exchanged notes to see if they had wrapped up another one for the night. "We got done with the sixth chapter, and just need to do the seventh," she said.

"And what would that entail?" Shining asked.

"Their cuisine, ingredients, and cargo," Sweetie replied. A thought hit her, and she turned to Anna, "Hey, does the Aerie have any restaurants?"

Anna, still stuffing her face, shook her head, her mouth too full to contemplate answering otherwise. She took a moment to swallow before replying properly, "It does not, in the sense that you would define it. We do have cargo bays and storage facilities for storing our food surpluses for extended periods."

Sweetie nodded a bit. "Could you take us there tomorrow?" she asked.

Anna contemplated for a moment, before shaking her head and returning to shoveling food in her gob. "Can Natalie take us?" Scootaloo asked, garnering a nod that time.

Apple Bloom grinned, and reached over to the stack of photographs in Sweetie's saddlebag to check and see if any one of the pictures detailed whatever looked closest to a military cargo bay. Sweetie magically grabbed the stack and began shuffling through them with her friends, all three silently glad that Anna was feeling some measure of better. They didn't find much in the stack at first, just shots of places they had visited earlier, though the stack was huge even for a simple school report, so it took them a little bit of digging to get what they were after.

There, in a series of rooms, were several crates' worth of stuff, mostly wood and steel, but some sporting crystals and polished surfaces that could only be magitek. Each crate was labeled, too: partitions, rations, ammo, slime gel, spare parts… in fact, in every shot of the cargo bays, there were crates for everything they could think of; it seemed the Aerie was well stocked for a drawn-out conflict if the need arose. Plus with its own farms, and they'd be set to win another Trials of Attrition if they were of a mind to do so.

Some photographs detailed more changelings and gryphons in security gear, though only the vests and hardhats for visibility's sake. There were also cranes and massive tread-based magitek to cart off whatever was loaded off from the airships that came in through the hangars, on lifts specifically built to house vehicles of that size. There were also armed soldiers in blue suits, kind of like police officers except without the badge, holding clipboards and doing inventory checks on whatever went in and out of the Aerie.

And from the looks of those lifts, they might be connected to the hangars where airships and planes came and went to do whatever scouting missions Lance needed done at the moment. "Look," Apple Bloom said, pointing to a crane carrying a crate with bulky wires and a hook, causing her friends to look at her hoof. It seemed the cranes were magitek too; they had equine-sized crystals in their joints and hooks, sparkling with power when the photographs were taken. In addition, behind the crane she pointed at was a series of conveyor belts, each being fed scrapped steel and towing their goods into a series of chutes.

"Goodness, maybe they could open up more factories around Fantasia with all that equipment!" Scootaloo said, grinning.

"They might," Shining interjected with a smile, "but they probably don't. And from what I hear, it might be because they learned their lesson the first time, during the Trials of Attrition."

"Do not bite off more than you can chew," Fluttershy translated with a soft smile.

Anna finished her food and sent the empty tray back to the ether, taking a moment to produce a napkin and wipe her face off. She stretched and lit her horn. "A'ight, I'm going to bed now, and take a young gryph to her bed before she gets any bright ideas," she announced, causing Maria to pout a little.

"But I don't wanna go to bed yet!" Maria complained, crossing her claws over her chest before Anna went to pat her on the head again.

"Sorry, rules are rules," Anna said, before turning to look at the Mythonian guests. "Thanks for… for cheering me up. I guess I got a little carried away."

Pinkie grinned. "No problemo," she replied cheerfully. "Maybe we can start talking about making your birthdays fun days again, after we figure out who or what broke the barrier."

Anna smiled at the thought, albeit ruefully. "Maybe, but you've got a couple of months yet at least," she replied. "Until then, I am not telling you my birthdate. It has to remain a surprise; deal?"

"Dealio!" Pinkie agreed, her smile widening. "Surprises are always fun!"

Anna nodded, and with that, she teleported out of the room with Maria in tow. The Crusaders grinned and traded looks; while bedtime loomed over their horizon, they had one last day to wrap up their report before reading the rest to Lance to get his hoofprint of approval. And though they pitied the poor bastard who would have to clean up the splinter pile Anna left behind, at least that would be easy compared to the task they had ahead of them.

This project was sure to get a passing grade at this rate, and would make the look on Cheerilee's face so worth it when they returned home.

Sixth Day, Morning Part I—Reflections of Seasoned Fighters

The Crusaders finished their breakfast before anyone else the following morning, though they made sure to not eat too fast or too much lest they have tummy aches. They wasted no time reviewing their report, which just needed one more chapter finished and the footnotes and references before they could get the coveted hoofprint of approval from Lance.

Weirdly enough, instead of being with her cohorts at the highest booth, Natalie was sitting with them, wedged between Zecora and Flash Sentry, with Spike sitting opposite of the still-munching wraithling. They, too, had finished their food, and waited for someone to put their foot forward so they could make small talk.

Natalie, having opted to have extra caffeine for her drink, and having already downed it, had her elbows propped on the table and her chin propped upon her pasterns as she eyeballed Katie. It did not escape the Crusaders' notice that she had bags beneath her eyes, which were only possible if she had either pulled an all-nighter or had been awakened at an ungodly hour, which they assumed would not be particularly uncommon for the higher rungs of the military.

"Welp, at least we finally figured out your portioning for every meal. If Alexander hadn't done your autopsy at damn-o'clock-in-the-morning, we'd still be drawing straws to tell you how much you can and can't eat every three to five hours," she said warmly. "Though at the rate you're going through your food anyway, you're gonna burn out on purple wasp sooner or later."

"Says the bitch who drank three coffee pots in a row," Katie hissed in response, before going back to her food. Natalie didn't reprimand her for the backtalk, and instead just shook her head and rolled her eyes in response.

"So… what did Alexander find?" Sweetie asked, lifting a hoof to gesture to Katie.

Natalie's smile dropped and she sighed. She almost seemed to wilt with the question. "Well… besides rickets, an underdeveloped love sac, the obvious ribs and the balding, he found… a very suspect internal organ she should not possess, and that she has confirmed herself was not in her body before she got herself sealed," she began, seemingly debating to herself whether or not to show the trio what she meant. "Changelings have a love sac, next to a stomach that processes physical foods, that helps them convert love into nutrients their body can use. Basically, a second stomach built exclusively to convert the emotions they consume. It also holds excess love, for them to use as they see fit."

She lit her horn and produced an x-ray of a changeling's internal workings, and showed it off as she used her horn to gesture to the extraneous organ in question. The love sac wasn't attached to the intestines or the like, but was attached to the same pipe that was connected to the main stomach, and arteries for distributing the emotions-converted-to-nutrients to the rest of the body.

She procured another x-ray, of a gaunt changeling currently sitting at their table. It wasn't just her body and bones that had shriveled; every organ, except the main stomach, was weak and small, sporting several scars that had healed over which were showing through the x-ray. And even then, the main stomach was smaller than it should have been. However, against all logic and probability, there was a second heart, opposite of the main heart, big and strong and with suspect runes carved upon its surface.

The second heart came complete with its own set of suspect chain-like arteries connecting it to the main arteries and the rest of the body, with each new artery also sporting runes. Natalie used her horn to gesture to the second heart. "Now, her… abilities, we can excuse, due to her unique mutations, estimated age of a thousand years, and undead state. This? We have found no explanation for," she said, frowning. "We have confirmed that it is filled with whatever hatred and despair she has consumed, which she somehow converts to use for her ice magic, and is made of crystal. It does not beat until she conjures her ice; it's a deadweight otherwise. So are the arteries connecting it to the rest of her body."

"Didja have to open 'er up?" Apple Bloom asked. "And how'd ya estimate her age?"

Natalie nodded. "Oh yeah, we had to cut her open and we had to drug her so she wouldn't feel a thing first; otherwise she'd have cussed us out pretty bad," she said. " As for her age, we ran some of her tissue samples through several bits of magitek before we got something conclusive. However, she usually gets so injured during combat, it's impossible to tell the extra arteries and second heart are even there. During her little skirmish through Greenwood, Twilight wasn't able to see anything past her bleeding despite the fact that the wraithling reportedly had a hole punched through her chest before the Elements of Harmony sealed the hole shut." Now that was an anomaly, the Crusaders had to admit to themselves.

Then again, from their somewhat limited understanding of that situation, the problem at Greenwood must have been pretty dire for Twilight of all ponies to miss that little detail. And confirmed Elements of Harmony usage meant that apparently, the situation had gone from 'steaming tea kettle' levels of insanity to 'possible end of the world scenario.' Natalie continued, seeing their obvious confusion, "Then there's the fact that poison joke heals her without playing any pranks on her first, for reasons we're still trying to figure out. That's why you can't see any incision scars from her autopsy; she healed seamlessly under that stuff once Zecora applied it, save for the injuries she got before she died."

The trio's ears twitched disbelievingly. Poison joke? Healing? Without pulling pranks? Since when? Natalie noticed their looks and her brow slanted. "Yeah, I know. I got the full spiel from Twilight about poison joke's effects; she was trying to not cuss up a blue streak as she waved papers around, dancing like a bat out of hell came up to her and bit her on the cutie mark. It took her a while before she realized that maybe I might not have known what she was harping on about, so she had to start that tangent over from the beginning, with an explanation of what poison joke is and does first so I wouldn't be lost the second time," she said, shaking her head. "It was one of the few times I got lectured twice, by the same pony, in the same hour."

The Crusaders shared glances. "Yeah, Twi's like that sometimes…" Apple Bloom said apologetically. "If something gussies up her hamsters and glues their feet to their wheels, then she'll be hootin' and hollerin' all day long if she could."

"Trust me, Fantasia's been doing that an awful lot to her lately," Spike said, idly looking at his claws as he held them up to his face, buffing them against his chest scales. "It's like, everywhere we go is a nuthouse in its own way, save for the very few sane places. The Aerie and Whitefall are the only ones in the 'sane' category, for the moment at least. Every other day, she has a new complaint to lodge with Lance, mostly regarding the rest of Fantasian society. And if it's not her, it's either Shining or Blueblood or Rarity pitching the hissyfit."

"Put it like this: Blueblood was, and still largely is, paranoid about the Fantasians," Flash Sentry said, wings ruffling. He gestured to the whole military that surrounded him. "He was kinda wrong about these ones, but from what we've seen of the rest of the society, he's kinda right."

"Did he blow up when you guys visited?" Sweetie asked, looking at Natalie.

Natalie nodded. "Oh, yeah. His whole damn gasket went into the stained glass ceiling of the Parliament and firmly stayed there. His aunts wound up having to boot him out of Parliament before diplomatic relations could sour further," she answered. "His rant devolved into shouting at us because of our coat colors and races, though I can't help but think that maybe… maybe it was an act."

"Why would he be acting? He treated my sister like manure at the Grand Galloping Gala!" Sweetie argued, frowning as she recalled her sister's less than ladylike tirade about that night. There might have also been copious amounts of certain beverages consumed by said sister during the night of the tirade, which Sweetie had been explicitly told was for adults only.

"Well… someone at Parliament pulled some strings and arranged for us to be at that hotel… y'know, the one that made the print?" Natalie said, shaking her head. "And once Celestia figures out who, she's probably going to kick their rumps on our behalf. We know it wasn't Blueblood; he sorta came here on his own willingly, which automatically rules him out."

"Shut your cakehole, Natz!" Anna called from the booth. Natalie waved her off with a dismissive hoof. "The less you talk about those three idiots who ran that illegal business, the better!"

"And speaking of those idiots, I wouldn't be surprised if the other two dunderheads joined their undead friend in banishment," Natalie said, more of an aside than anything. Her remark caused a groan of dismay to come from Lance's booth, followed by the sound of somepony hitting their head upon the table.

"Wait, one of those crooks became a wraith?" Scootaloo asked.

Katie nodded. "Kinda helped break his horn and made him see stars for a while," she affirmed. "They decided they wanted to act as bad as most of Fantasian society, they probably got to be part of most of Fantasian society. I also wouldn't be surprised if the other two hockdraggers became undead themselves."

"In other news, no more babies for them," Spike piped up, shaking his head. "Even if they're undead and find someone to woo—"

"Eeeew, shut up, nobody would breed with those dunderheads at all even if they ditch their sentience!" Natalie hissed, and instead of reaching a hoof over to bap Spike on the head, she spread a wing—a wing that didn't have primary feathers or half of its secondary feathers—to hit him with it. In doing so, her coat color shifted from cream to white with a flourish of gold and blue magical dust leaving her body. In addition, her mane and tail wavered in an invisible wind, faintly aglow like liquified flame. On top of that, her entire body sparkled like living crystal, refracting various lights for a somewhat mottled sheen that hardly anyone else batted an eye at.

However, due to her wings being partially amputated despite their large size, Spike didn't even flinch from the strike, or rub his head once the wing parted from his skull. In return, another smoking seed bapped Natalie upside her own head, landed on the table spinning, and vanished with a popcorn-like pop and a puff of smoke.

The Crusaders, bless them, did not react at all to Natalie flashing her wings in the slightest—that cat was already out of the bag anyway. They did, however, show some reaction to the fact that she had spontaneously changed color, with her mane now aglow: they raised their brows and tilted their heads at her. "That's kinda cool; why'd you hide it?" Scootaloo asked.

Natalie sighed and shook her head again, with a long and suffering groan leaving her mouth. "Well… nobody on Fantasia, outside of the Aerie, really tolerates alicorns running around with wings and horns flailing about in the open, save for other areas directly controlled by them in the first place… and that usually requires brute force or magical mayhem controlling everyone else to establish some kind of sick pecking order. And being somewhat disabled—" She spread both wings to full mast again, with both of them only reaching the ends of the table and no further, "—kinda puts a bigger target on my back. Because of the disability, I'm seen as weaker, easier to kill, that sort of thing."

"Plus, given how the ancient legends say what Faust looks like, if the storyteller recounting the tale even bothers to remember the details, and that I kinda look like how She's described in those legends…" Natalie shook her head. "Everyone outside of here might see me as the second coming or some manure like that, hence the illusions I cast to keep from being prodded at with hot, burning sticks." She shrugged. "Also, I heard about a crystal alicorn of the past, don't have much details on her, but let's just say I also heard the crystal ponies here lost their luster, save for those like myself and Lazarus who are able to activate it on their own bodies whenever we damn well want."

She closed her wings again, ruffling them uncomfortably and shedding a few loose feathers in doing so. She used a hoof to gesture to Anna and added, "And she couldn't tell us anything until the situation at Greenwood was more or less sorted out, so we virtually had no idea she and her sister were hybrid alicorns until recently. It did go a long way to explain their skill sets, though, once that came to light—Sarah's more flighty and stabby, and Anna would rather strangle you with plants if she can't turn you into a pincushion."

"So, basically, you're all priority targets if you don't conceal your true nature?" Sweetie asked, garnering another nod from Natalie as her eyes briefly gravitated to the ceiling.

"Plus, I… kinda ascended during the whole Catastrophe fiasco, so I really stuck out like a sore thumb if I even tried to approach civilization back then," Natalie sighed, frowning ruefully at the memory. Her sparkling sheen diminished somewhat. "And now that I help run the Aerie, I'm still a priority target for our enemies—I'm damned if I do, and damned if I don't. One wrong move, and I'm probably gonna be so screwed that Lance will rip my head off in the afterlife if it comes to that."

"Didja get any flight training in?" Apple Bloom asked.

Natalie shook her head again. "Was a little too focused on keeping a low profile to consider the option," she answered simply. "Between the Catastrophe, stopping a cult-revived crazy bastard of a wraith-alicorn who somehow kept his long golden locks, and the Trials of Attrition, I was kinda left with a lot of hindsight. Plus the fact that the bastards running the stadium kinda knew where I lived at the time… well, you might say I got the short end of that stick." Was destiny really that harsh in Fantasia, or did it only seem that way because nopony actively sought it out for Godcat knows how many years to leave it disgruntled at the end of the day?

Also, wraith-alicorn with long golden locks? That sounded like an epic bedtime story. The trio leaned in, eager for the details. "What was the cult like?" Scootaloo asked.

"Well… they were wearing stupid wigs, for starters, trying to immitate the alicorn they worshipped," Natalie began, eyes twinkling with malicious glee. "And they tried to imitate his muscles, to… morbidly comical effect." She lit her horn and produced a drawing of such a pony, with the wig longer than he was tall and trailing down his back and tail to reach the ground like a crude cape, with decently-sized muscles in effectively all the wrong places. It was somewhat disturbing to look at, until the Crusaders realized that googly eyes and a dorky tongue had been grafted to the drawing's face, making them snicker in delight.

"And what did the alicorn want to do once he was revived?" Sweetie pressed.

"Considering he came back undead rather than fully alive, he… wanted to drown the lands of Fantasia in blood, and mayhem, be the last one living… stupid things like that. Funnily enough, he didn't have a cutie mark, and his lower jaw was missing, so we had to exchange some banter for a bit before Matt and I got the gist of what he was saying," Natalie said, still grinning. "Which really made him mad that he had to repeat himself fifteen times in order for our pubescent dumbass selves to understand him—word of advice, when you become teenagers, everything will start sounding wrong if it's slurred enough and the hormones have kicked in."

"So y'all were snickering as the alicorn dragged on with his word-slinging?" Apple Bloom asked, struggling to envision a pony talking with effectively half of their face missing. It didn't quite pan out so well in her head, with the tongue flapping gaily as it struggled to form incoherent speech with a body part it really needed beneath it to function properly. And for some reason, her mind was making the pony in her mind's eye say all sorts of stupid manure that would get her a switching if she ever said any of it out loud with Applejack in earshot. Then it ran said stupid manure through a blender, and the end result… well, it left a lot to be desired of what could have been an otherwise terrifyingly majestic mental image.

Natalie's grin widened, seeing the amusement in Apple Bloom's eyes. "Oh hell yes. We could not contain ourselves; even as the alicorn began firing magical blasts, his sword—which Matt stole from him, by the way—and lightning-swift punches at us, we were still giggling, and even making fun of the bastard all the way to the end of the battle. We were taunting him, mocking his inadequacies, the fact he only had stubs for wings and couldn't fly, him repeatedly tripping over his own mane and tail in his various attempts to get to us, how he hadn't killed us yet, how he was losing to a pair of hormonal teenagers…"

Her smile grew absolutely evil as she continued, "And of course, the fact that his followers had screwed up his own ritual and made him unable to communicate properly in doing so. Of course, that might have been our fault, but you wouldn't have known that because of how wrong the alicorn returned to the mortal coil in the end. Anyway, our teasing and resistance got to the point that he grew so mad he sorta overloaded his own body with his unstable magic and exploded right as we dealt the killing blow." Her eyes twinkled in mirth. "Sent us halfway across Fantasia doing it, but it was worth it. I'm pretty sure whatever's left of his cult is still steaming that we managed to bruise their patron's ego that badly."

"So how'd you survive being thrown halfway across Fantasia?" Sweetie asked.

Natalie kept smiling. "Once we were about to land, I… remembered to light my horn in time, though it was a near thing. Matt was still figuring out his shadows, but that combined with my timing cushioned our fall." She shrugged. "Of course, we had to get treated for broken legs, extensive mana drain, and things like that by a friendly kingdom of cats in the area, but once they cleared us to go we were golden. The cats were also encouraging us to head back out with NoLegs accompanying us, on the day the gryphons attacked, but from our understanding, the cats and attacking force brought themselves to mutual annihilation anyway."

"Didja ever go back to bury those cats?" Scootaloo pressed.

Natalie nodded. "We felt it best that they be buried where they died, and with an entire military helping out, the task was practically easy to do. Though we did have to trek through the area to solve another problem which emerged later, no thanks to the bungling stupidity of myself, Matt, and Lance," she said gently. "That area is now called the Kitten Kingdom Ruins, or alternatively, the Kitten Kingdom Catacombs, depending on your fancy. And we made sure to pay respects to the Catacombs during that little adventure."

"It sounds as if you've had many travels; don't you think that your stress you should unravel?" Zecora piped up, looking at Natalie somewhat incredulously.

"Well… hardly have the time to," Natalie answered with a shrug. "I guess I could take a vacation day once this whole mess is sorted out, though only after making sure the military can run itself while I do so. Because if I do, chances are the others are gonna hop on that bandwagon with me."

Zecora frowned. "Your job, you take it very seriously. Yet your eyes… they gleam mischievously," she muttered.

Natalie turned to Zecora, a brow raised. "You don't have to worry; I'll reign the other three in to keep the property damage from even achieving liftoff," she said.

Zecora shook her head, seeing that the Lieutenant-General was not picking up on her meaning. "No; your eyes, they hide most… intimate desires. Perhaps you and your lover will fly higher?" she tried, causing Natalie's eyes to widen before she facehoofed.

"Oh! Now I get what you're talking about…" Natalie grumbled, her face flushing as the meaning of Zecora's words hit her. Her ears flattened against her head, and what made it worse, was that Matt barked out a laugh from the highest booth.

"She was telling me the same damn thing!" Matt called, a cheeky grin on his face. Anna responded by hurling another smoking seed at him with her hoof, which bounced from his nose and puffed into smoke on their shared table.

"Well… I hardly have the time to do that either," Natalie muttered into her hoof. "And with friggin' Redpine deciding 'hey, let's poke the other major military force on Fantasia and see how the fallout goes! I'm sure nothing will go wrong,' I've been pulling some all-nighters just to plan for that situation…"

"Redpine is most wicked and vile, on that we can agree; yet your health and sanity you shouldn't neglect, you see," Zecora replied, garnering a reluctant nod from Natalie. She put a hoof on the Lieutenant-General's shoulder and added, "Now that we see eye to eye on this matter, we have to seek the knowledge we're all after; it wouldn't do any good to forget our main objective, lest even our own desires fade and we lose sight of our perspectives."

"Betcha they won't be expecting me and my retinue when they do decide to come over and pick a fight," Flash Sentry added, smiling wryly. "The contingent with me are mostly pegasi; we could teach you guys how to manage the weather for another layer of surprise."

The Crusaders turned to regard Flash Sentry. "So why'd you come here?" Sweetie asked, tilting her head as her friends set to work on double-checking their report.

Flash Sentry wore a crooked smile. "Well, we came here out of our own volition, and to also guard Shining Armor and especially Prince Prissypants, since he wouldn't be able to bring his own hoofservants over," he answered. "That being said, he does talk to me about things he's noticed around Fantasia. Like how stupid Redpine is being, for instance. Better the Prince than his lunatic father, though—and in regards to that old bastard, I'd die a happy stallion if that old curmudgeon got his head bitten off by Celestia for the so-called 'reforms' he's been trying to pass in the wake of the barrier's shattering."

"What reforms?" Scootaloo asked, frowning as she noticed Flash's smile fading with her query. Whatever it was, she felt that it was bad news.

She did not like being right in this instance. "Namely, that nobles shouldn't have to work for the common ponies, that tribal interbreeding be forbidden, that cross-species breeding, like what happens when you put a gryphon and pony together, should also be forbidden… that mules, buffalo, cows, donkeys and zebras should not be allowed in Equestrian schools, and generally insane manure like that," Flash answered somberly, causing Natalie to look at him with a raised brow.

"... okay, I'm definitely thinking that Blueblood put on an act now, if his father is even worse…" Natalie grumbled, looking Flash Sentry in the eye as she said that.

Flash nodded. "Oh yeah; when you guys stayed at Canterlot Castle, like you should have from day one, he was purple with rage. Yelled both my ears and his son's ears off about how such lowborn creatures should only be given the worst of services," he said, shrugging. "Called you all sorts of names, too. 'Cloaked homeless ponies' in particular sticks to my mind."

Natalie wilted. "Yeah… we did kinda show up looking like that…" she muttered. She gestured to Lance. "It was his idea."

Lance turned to her, still wearing that twitchy smirk. "Natz, don't throw me under the airship," he ordered curtly. "I have enough problems."

Natalie wilted further, sinking into her seat at this rate. "Yes sir…" she muttered.

"So why else are you ruling Blueblood out?" Sweetie asked, skeptical of the mere notion.

Natalie perked up a bit. "Well, according to intel, he helped save that little filly and the winged baby during a trip through Ashwood. Ashwood… was the forest surrounding Greenwood, before it kinda got destroyed. Furthermore, he was able to keep them calm once they were brought to our airships…" Her wings ruffled. She looked around for a moment, trying to spot Heather before finding her amongst Greenwood's villagers and gesturing to her. "She's taken a real shine to him as a result."

Blueblood helped save children? That… was somehow unbelievable to Sweetie's ears, and yet she found herself unable to deny Natalie's sincerity. Flash grinned. "I was there," he said, pride in his voice. "He kicked a dunderhead's face in when it tried ripping his forelegs off; I saw the hoofprints. He hits like a mule if he puts his mind to it."

Goodness. Then again, given Blueblood rivaled Shining Armor in height and leg girth, that did sound somewhat more plausible to Sweetie. What did that fop do in his spare time, hit the gym? "But was that the only reason he kicked the dunderhead, because it tried messing up his fancy coat?" she asked incredulously.

Flash shook his head. "Nope. He was legitimately concerned about the kids he helped out," he replied. "Kinda wanted the head of whoever hurt her on a pike, but we had to remind him that the Fantasians are… peculiar about their pecking order regarding such matters. He'll get his turn, assuming there's even anything left."

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Given our reputation, he might be kicking ash," she said with a shake of her head. A feeling of ice crept up her spine, and for some reason, she didn't know why. She looked around the table. "Is it just me, or does anyone else feel a chill all of a sudden?" she asked.

Katie shook her head. "Not me, I'm cold all the time," she replied.

Natalie groaned and turned to the wraithling. "Not you," she hissed, before garnering nods from the others at the table.

"It almost feels like… something bad is happening in Equestria," Scootaloo said, wings drooping. "But what is it?"

~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~

Discord had meandered his way into Parliament again, although this time he was invisible—grinning as he watched one of the nobles parade back and forth across the proverbial stage, screaming his head off over matters regarding Fantasia. More specifically, he was bitching about the diplomats who had arrived to Equestria soon after the barrier broke, the same ones who now babysat the Crusaders. He wanted to see where this went, to see if perhaps this tirade would be worth his time.

"And I keep telling you, Princesses, we should do something about those ruffians! That wretch who had the unmitigated gall to fondle your feathers in public should have her hooves cut off!" the suited noble on stage screeched, his graying blond tail swishing as he pranced about.

"And we keep telling you, she helps run a military in Fantasia! What good would it do to strike her down for a slight which I have already forgiven her for?!" Luna asked in exasperation, wondering what the hell had cankled this noble so badly.

"But the nobility has not forgiven it, and it should never be forgiven! It doesn't matter if that homeless wretch helps to run a military or a brothel, she should be stricken down where she stands so the other ruffians with her know not to follow her sordid example!" the noble proclaimed, to much nodding from like-minded members of Parliament, of which there was a depressing majority. Fancypants stood up and trotted to the irate unicorn, frowning.

"But she didn't know any better; the barrier had only broken three days prior to their arrival. They would not know our customs in the slightest, and we wouldn't know theirs," Fancypants said, waving a hoof in a motion meant to soothe. His hoof was swatted to the floor by the gray unicorn, who turned to him and huffed irritably. "Now why would you do that? I've done nothing towards you or your bloodline!" Fancy said, scuffing his hoof to the floor.

Discord grinned. Now this was getting entertaining. Deftly, he lifted his talons and flicked them subtly, just enough to not be heard. The blustering noble rallied, his chest puffing like he was about to beat on it with his front hooves. "I'll have you know that she had plenty of time to ask Shining Armor about our customs before she waltzed through those damned doors! Did she use it? No, she didn't, and kept herself as ignorant as the rest of the lessers who serve us!" he retorted.

Fancypants sighed, hating to admit that the outraged noble did have a tragic point about the matter. "But did she have to stay at that hotel, as opposed to the castle itself? Last I checked, we did possess diplomatic quarters for any foreign nationals that deigned fit to visit," he said tartly.

"Them? Diplomats?" the blustering noble hissed, steel gray eyes narrowing at the thought. "Never! Homeless vagrants do not deserve the trappings of wealth afforded to them through diplomacy! I won't hear of such scatterbrained poppycock; such is beneath all of us here at Parliament, and it should stay that way!"

Fancypants sighed. This was starting to get irritating, like he was talking to a brick wall. "But what if they had been telling the truth from the beginning?" he replied smoothly, albeit with an eye twitching.

"Homeless vagrants never tell the truth about anything!" the blustering noble replied, causing Fancypants to internally facehoof. Discord flicked his claw again, and the noble added, "Those miserable terf-herders deserved what they got, every last one of them!"

The Princesses traded looks. Celestia turned to the noble. "Elaborate, Duke Blueblood," she said curtly, with the air of somepony having creeping suspicions settling into her mind.

Duke Blueblood did, and waved his hoof dramatically as he said, "Whatever bit of suffering they got on their home planet was well-earned—as should be common for all homeless vagrants," he answered.

Luna frowned. She remembered an extensive talk she had with Lieutenant-General Windwood in the dreamscape a few nights ago, regarding… certain things adorning her body. Duke Blueblood was really saying she deserved that? For what crime, exactly? "What if they had geases carved into their bodies?" she questioned.

Duke Blueblood scoffed as Discord subtly flicked his claw again. "It matters not what illegal magics they had been experimented on with; what matters is that they served their betters," he said firmly.

Luna blinked, scarcely able to believe her ears. She sighed, and pressed forward. "What if they miscarry, or have stillborn foals?" she continued.

"They can just make more! The homeless breed like rabbits! They're hardly good for anything else," Duke Blueblood replied with a flick of his raised hoof. "For a vagrant, love is a foreign concept, and shouldn't matter in the slightest—they should only exist to serve their betters."

Again, the Princesses shared looks. What was going on to make Duke Blueblood this agitated, enough for him to not keep his innermost thoughts to himself? Cadence decided to speak up, feathers somewhat cankled at the concept that homeless ponies couldn't understand love itself. "If they don't understand love, then do the nobility understand it?" she asked pointedly.

Duke Blueblood turned to the Princesses, a somehow sickening smile on his bearded face as he lifted a hoof to his chest. "Yes—we understand the love for our nation, a love that transcends bloodlines, class, and legacies," he said proudly, with the air of someone having a prepared speech written out in the event of being asked a very specific question. "It transcends even our ancient Houses, and ensures we keep sight of our goals so we can guide Equestria to what it should be."

Cadence frowned, having subtly lit her horn during that little monologue for her magic to inform her of something a little worrying. Namely, that she felt no… genuine love for the nation emanating from Duke Blueblood—at least, as the nation was presently. There was no warmth radiating from him, no aura, ho hearts fluttering around him, or anything of the sort, and he acted as though he hadn't noticed. She did have hopes it might change in the future, but she was careful to avoid hedging her bets. She waited until the Duke turned around to continue parading about before telepathically relaying her findings to her aunts.

Her aunts continued to frown, but otherwise kept their poker faces as the belligerent Duke went back to his earlier tangent. "Even so, those vagrants dared to have us question our love for Equestria! They dared to call into question our traditions, our decorum, our decency! Will we stand for this slight?!"

"No!" much of the gathered nobility replied in tandem, a brief and deafening roar that temporarily shook the room. Great, he was rallying the masses of the gathered Noble Houses.

Celestia spread her wings. "Now, now, my little ponies," she interjected, as calm as a cucumber, "they weren't that bad of a lot, were they?" Much of the nobles scowled, and she continued, "They did not destroy any property nor livelihoods; they obeyed our laws, adhered to decorum as soon as they were informed of it, and decided to not press any issues forward, did they?" The nobles considered this, glancing amongst each other, albeit still scowling at slights real and perceived.

"It matters not that they behaved themselves afterwards; their conduct could have used far more tact than they displayed when they were here!" Duke Blueblood argued, turning back to the Princesses with a scowl. "They should have behaved from the outset!"

"While that might be true, they can scarcely be blamed for the slight you seem to hold against them," Luna noted dryly. "Furthermore, from my venturing into the dreamscapes, they are treating the diplomats we sent to their lands fairly well, warning them of whatever dangers of Fantasia have decided to rear their heads. And, they're learning much about Fantasian culture—" "Or despairing lack thereof," she noted internally, "—and custom. Is that not all we hope for in the end, to learn more about the ponies and other sentients on the other side of the shattered veil?"

Discord flicked his claw again, amazed that Duke Blueblood had yet to shoot himself in the foot. The Duke didn't seem to have noticed him yet, and kept on as though nothing were wrong. "No! Not unless we want them to destroy us!" the Duke said, frowning. "I… I had troubling nightmares over the course of last month, and within I saw their great and terrible power." He lifted a hoof to his forehead, indicating a faint as he shook his head. "And one day, they might use it on us!" That got the nobility muttering amongst themselves again.

Fancypants' brow furrowed. "Care to elaborate on this 'great and terrible power?'" he pressed. "Because when I met them, they had no such indications as having anything particularly noteworthy about them, their legless cat and wraith aside." The Duke faltered, unsure of what to say about that. The blue-maned unicorn got the idea that he may have pulled that one from under his tail.

Discord kept himself invisible to the nobles, but made himself visible to Celestia and the other Princesses. They saw him, and he motioned for them to keep quiet about his presence with his paw, before producing a pirate hat for his head, a cutlass for his hip, a red flag for his talon, and a white flag for his paw. He waved the white flag, and the Duke elaborated after composing himself, "I saw fire and death besieging Canterlot, heralded by changelings and gryphons seeking to perform rapine and slaughter on the masses."

Luna's brow started to climb up her forehead. The First Unified Army was, technically, capable of the feat as far as she understood the situation, though she kept her mouth shut to avoid giving the Duke any more ammunition for his parade. "Furthermore, I saw hails of artillery fire, and unicorns being dehorned en masse, while pegasi had their wings clipped," the Duke went on, sweat beginning to bead his brow.

That… was also possible, Luna had to admit. Though, that was probably a last resort for the Fantasian military. Her eyes flicked to Discord again, and this time he waved the red flag. "On top of that, they… they… they cast apocalyptic levels of magic around all of Equestria in the nightmares I had," the Duke went on, shuddering at the memory. "Hellfire, giant swords, explosives and emergences of foul plants burying themselves into whatever poor ponies they could grasp… it was horrible!"

Luna's brow furrowed. She recalled no such thing being flung about in whatever dreams the Duke had, few that he could claim to have under his belt. Her eyes flicked to Discord again, silently demanding an explanation, but all she got out of him was a cheeky grin and a wave of the white flag.

The Duke continued, horror still painting his features as he turned to the Princesses. Celestia had to admit, his emotions were genuine for somepony that could have been fibbing for all she knew. "I know this sounds far-fetched, Princesses, but you have to believe me—would anypony lie about something as horrific as that?" he beseeched, the fear in his eyes sincere and bright.

Hesitantly, Luna nodded, for she had indeed seen some of what he was blathering about. "Prithee, I have seen what you speak of," she agreed. "I have heard through some sources that they do, indeed, hold a great and terrible power between them." That got the gathered nobles, even Fancypants, to gasp and recoil, muttering amongst themselves over how they could have let such powerful individuals into their lands so easily.

Discord waved the white flag as soon as Cadence looked at him. "If we do not do something about that catastrophic power and its wielders… I fear we may be done for," Duke Blueblood said, legs shaking at the thought.

"Technically, I have catastrophic power, due to my connection with the sun," Celestia said. "But do you see me throw it around everywhere?"

Duke Blueblood shook his head. "No, for you are a very responsible pony with that power, Princess," he replied smoothly. "But these savages… they've thrown it around everywhere on Fantasia! From a stadium, to a mountain, to an otherwise-inconsequential forest village, nowhere is safe from them!"

Luna sighed, and turned to Discord again. His smirk widened, and she wilted when she finally realized why: he had something to do with this. She wouldn't put it past him to give the nobility a case of the heebie-jeebies just to get reactions like this out of them. What was he trying to do here, make her and her fellow Princesses pull their manes out? It certainly was working, that much she could say for certain.

Some part of her began to worry for the Fantasians as the Duke began another tirade about them. What was Discord trying to pull here?

Sixth Day, Morning Part II—Boorish Banishment

The Crusaders could tell there was a chill in the air, and it certainly did not come from their undead chaperone. Indeed, she seemed to sense it too, and turned her head to scan the room and listen in on the hushed clamor. The mood had shifted; now the soldiers were quiet, with wings buzzing, all looking around and wondering what had happened. The Sunnytowners and villagers of Greenwood took heed, and accordingly hushed themselves up. The gryphons' feathers rustled, and some puffed out their tails.

Lance seemed to notice the change in the air as well. His wings rustled. "What on Fantasia is happening?" he muttered, looking around to find anything off.

Pinkie came over to the table, frowning—with a very twitchy tail. Spike wilted, eyes widening as he beheld it. "Uh-oh… should we get the sand bunkers?" he asked worriedly.

Pinkie sighed. "I'm not sure we'll need that, but it couldn't hurt to be extra-extra sure," she answered. "After all, I don't know what's gonna fall this time."

Katie sank into her seat. "If it does fall here, can I have a helmet on my head?" she asked. "I don't want any concussions." Pinkie nodded, reached into her mane, dug around for a bit while going cross-eyed, and pulled her hoof back out to produce a hardhat that she plunked on the wraithling's head.

"I'm still wondering how she does that…" Anna muttered, just loud enough to be heard across the mess hall.

"Trust me, I've tried studying it," Twilight replied, also loud enough to be heard across the mess hall. "I wasn't able to get anywhere with my attempt."

"Is… is it a doozy?" Scootaloo asked, frowning.

Pinkie nodded. "Yeah, it's a doozy. A big one," she answered.

Flash Sentry frowned. "Should I be concerned…?" he asked warily.

The Crusaders nodded. "You should be. Very, very concerned," Scootaloo answered firmly. Natalie promptly pulled a helmet of her own from the ether, and plonked it on her head just in case it started raining trees or something.

"Don't worry; I always pack extra extra helmets in case of helmet emergencies," Pinkie said, reaching into her mane once more to produce a whole stack of them. The Crusaders, Zecora, and Flash got extra helmets on their heads, and the last one of the stack went to Pinkie's head as well. Flash's didn't quite fit on his normal guard helmet, but hey, it was the thought that counted.

"Last time we heard she sensed things falling, Matt decided to be an idiot…" Natalie grumbled under her breath.

The other soldiers took the cue from Pinkie, and all proceeded to plunk helmets on their heads. The higher-ups at the tallest booth followed suit, and somewhere in the throng, Twilight procured more helmets for the rest of her group. Shining trotted to the table in full Guard Captain armor, complete with a helmet on his helmet and a frown on his face. "The last time I sensed this sort of chill was before the Void came over Greenwood…" he muttered, looking around for any signs of foul play.

Yet, nothing happened otherwise. Was the doozy Pinkie sensed holding its breath, perhaps? He and everyone else could tell something was amiss, yet nobody could figure out what it was.

"If the doozy isn't here, then it wouldn't happen to be near?" Zecora offered, garnering a shake of the head from Pinkie.

"Nope, though it might actually come here…" Pinkie frowned contemplatively. "This is a smaller doozy than the one six days ago, when Lance told me about the party poopers who messed him up." She shrugged, tail still twitching. "Like… slightly smaller. Couldn't tell ya how, though."

Great. The Crusaders now had cause to duck under the table in case things went awry, even as they considered the thought that whatever would fall just might break the table upon landing. Already they could see some soldiers conjuring blasters out of the ether, their trigger hooves twitching. Katie started tapping a hoof against the table, in a steady, fast-paced beat that might have been meant to calm her nerves.

"Daddy? Why's everyone twitching?" Maria asked. "And what's with the funny hats?"

"In case whatever falls lands on you, and tries to hit your head," Lance answered. "It protects your skull."

Well, at least the military was heeding the Pinkie Sense. It wouldn't have been a wise decision if they hadn't. Then again, maybe they had seen weirder, since it seemed to rain giant swords every other incident. The trio traded looks with one another. "What if it's just like a vase falling in the factory and knocking down those computer things?" Sweetie asked.

Apple Bloom shook her head. "The soldiers would've taken care of that already," she replied. "Might've glued the whole lot of 'em in place to keep 'em from moving too much."

"True…" Sweetie conceded. "And they would've repaired the screens by now."

"Exactly, so it can't be the factory," Apple Bloom said, eyes sparkling with clear-etched confusion.

"And it can't be the hangars, or our gear since we secured it…" Scootaloo put a pencil eraser to her chin. "I mean, how can airships fall? That wouldn't happen unless they were shot out of the sky by the ION Cannon or something like it."

"I don't feel the ground shaking… so it can't be an earthquake…" Apple Bloom added, a hoof on her temples.

Flash Sentry crossed his forelegs. "I still don't get it…" he muttered, gears turning in his head as his mental gerbils threatened to melt the plastic of their working wheels. "I mean… I can't help but think back to when Blueblood's father yelled my ears off… something isn't right…"

"What else would stick out to you, besides his evident racism?" Natalie asked.

"Well… he said that homeless vagrants should be punished, made to serve their betters, and can't even understand the concept of love in his rant… and he blew his gasket again the night of the riot…" Flash muttered, shaking his head.

Natalie slammed a hoof on the table. "He said we couldn't—how dense is he?!" she demanded.

Flash shrugged. "Trust me, I'm still trying to figure that one out," he admitted.

"It's like learning I was the only one left speaking in Swarm-tongue," Katie said, shaking her head. "I'm croggled, too."

The trio turned to her. "What's Swarm?" they asked.

"Old changeling language, back when my hive was still standing," Katie answered with a sigh. "I hardly speak it anymore, due to nobody understanding it unless I translate." She shook her head, and turned to Flash. "But you said… the nobles said… we can't understand love?" she hedged.

Flash nodded sourly. "And hearing them say that, even in the back of my head, bothers me greatly…" he muttered in reply.

~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~

"Just so I understand the situation perfectly clear," Celestia interjected, raising a hoof to signal a halt to the tirade, "you're saying the diplomats who came here have indiscriminately used the foul power you say they wield in the past?"

Duke Blueblood nodded. "Yes! A power most foul, that none should ever wield! The-th-th-the red-eyed pegasus, he… he came upon geas magic!" he gabbled, causing the nobles to trade incredulous looks.

"But he had no horn on his head!" Fancypants said, wide-eyed. "How could he have used the geas magic? It would have required a functioning horn to use, no?"

Discord waved the red flag, absolutely eating this up. Duke Blueblood nodded frantically, almost like a puppet on a string. "It matters not; he still knows how to use the magic, and could have imparted that knowledge onto the unicorns who accompanied him!" the Duke replied, causing the nobility to mutter once more.

Fancypants' brow furrowed. "Did… did you take too much whiskey before bed?" he hedged. That earned him a slap across the face from the Duke, causing him to stagger back and rub his cheek.

"It does not matter what habits I partake in before bed! The matter is strictly private!" the Duke barked. "What matters is that the Fantasians have forbidden magic! We should eradicate it!"

"But how can you eradicate forbidden magic, while also sparing the wielders of it?" Luna proposed, wondering where the Duke would take his tirade now.

"You sever the horns, quite simply. You ensure they do not regrow, or teach their forbidden arts to the next generation of impressionable young foals. Simply put: banishment to the moon would suffice," the Duke replied, keeping his gaze on Fancypants in case he tried speaking out of turn again. Discord conjured a sheaf of papers, and floated the stack over the nobles' heads and right to the podium where the Princesses sat. When Celestia looked at him, he winked slyly, and raised the white flag.

Celestia tucked the papers out of sight for now, to peruse at a later time. Duke Blueblood made to continue, whirling around to face the Princesses just as their gaze returned to him. "But… the Elements of Harmony are on Fantasia at the moment," Celestia said with a frown. "And I don't think the bearers would readily perform wanton banishment over there."

"At least without fully understanding the situation first and foremost," Luna agreed with a nod.

"But the bearers probably do understand how dire the situation is now!" Duke Blueblood argued. "They've spent enough time in that hovel of a planet to understand enough to warrant banishment of those brutes!"

The Princesses traded looks again. Cadence spoke up, "But as far as we can tell… as far as we know, contact with Fantasia was nonexistent until the barrier broke. How can you be so sure they understand the full scope of the situation already?"

"Because they will have been raised in nobility, or are following those of noble blood!" the Duke argued.

… technically true, Cadence had to admit, albeit loosely. Still, she held her tongue, wondering just how much of the news regarding Equestria Duke Blueblood selectively skipped over to accommodate his worldview. Luna wasn't so quiet, "And how does being noble correlate to being able to use the Elements of Harmony, exactly?"

"Because only nobles and those who follow their ideals can embody the core concepts of Harmony," Duke Blueblood said, a trifle smugly. "Laughter does not correlate to throwing countless parties, but should instead be made to lighten spirits in a more dignified manner; Loyalty should not be between ponies, but rather for the nation; Honesty can only be wielded by those pure of blood, for they always tell the truth; Generosity should only be applied when nobles give commoners rewards; Kindness is exercised when nobles deign fit to treat their subjects as well as they deserve. Magic is derived from those of purest blood, fit only to be wielded by those with horns."

… and now he had lost the ball. Fantastic. The Princesses frowned, though somehow, the Duke failed to notice this. Sadly, many of the nobles seemed to agree with the Duke, nodding in assent to his ridiculous proclamation. Celestia rose from her seat and banged her hoof on the podium she sat behind. "I do believe we can call a thirty-minute recess here," she said. "Cool ourselves off, gather our wits, and perhaps some horse sense, and then we can reconvene afterwards. Cooler heads have prevailed before, and they will prevail again."

The nobles muttered, but didn't say anything against her judgment as they stood up to file out of the room in an orderly fashion. Once the doors closed behind them, Celestia slumped in her chair, and pulled out the sheaf of papers that had appeared before her. She turned to Discord, who grinned in her direction. "These papers had better be worth it… I'm still angry we couldn't find the pony who funded that boarding school we shut down," she groused, eyes narrowing. "Nor could we find the bastard who had sent the Fantasian diplomats to that hotel…"

Discord giggled and made the flags, the pirate hat, and the cutlass vanish. "But that's why you keep me around, isn't it—to clean the corners that even you can't reach, Your Sunshininess?" he chirped.

Celestia wearily nodded and began to peruse the dossier that had been plopped before her. At least the nobles weren't around to have heard her use cruder words than she would normally let slip out of her mouth. She carefully scanned the pages, and slowly, her pupils narrowed to vertical slits as her eyes shone a dangerous orange. The air in the room began to swelter, her pastel mane slowly reforging itself into brilliant flames as her magic began to shake the papers she beheld.

Cadence began to back away. "I… I don't like that look…" she muttered, with a nod of agreement from Luna.

Celestia shuffled the papers, careful to avoid setting them on fire. She continued reading, her expression a portrait of genuine rage as she beheld what she was looking at. She said nothing, flipping the pages once more to behold a receipt on the third page. Instead, she waved Luna over with a wing and showed her the parchment. "Read that to me," was Celestia's blunt order. Gone was her motherly tone; now, her voice was a growling contralto that threatened to incinerate those responsible for the slight before her.

"... a receipt of five hundred thousand bits, distributed evenly, amongst Chocolate Soufflé, Napkin, and Rusty Pan… for the rapine and murder of the 'common-born unicorn mares' and 'hippogryph foal' amongst the visiting Fantasians… which will sextuple if carried out successfully, and a war is sparked with Fantasia…" she intoned, eyes widening slowly as she read that off.

Celestia nodded, and lifted a hoof to gesture to the bottom of the receipt. "Now that," she ordered.

Luna paled upon reading a signature at the bottom of the sordid paper. "... I, Duke Aegis Aurum Blueblood, hereby sign this document to bind myself legally to this contract and to ensure my end of the bargain is carried out…" she said, pupils shaking as she beheld it. She turned to her exceptionally pissed off sister and asked, "But those three who ran the hotel… hadn't we banished them already? To different parts of Fantasia so that their schemes can never again come to fruition?"

Celestia nodded. "And the signature…" She flashed her horn to scan it. Faint traces of purplish magic wafted from the ink-bound signature that came complete with a hoofprint, sporting blue sparkles as her aura washed over it for a few seconds. Both auras faded from the signature, and her glare could have curdled milk a thousand miles off with her findings. "It scries as authentic. Which means he truly intended to incite war on ponies who, as you have told me, suffered greatly." Her eyes narrowed at this.

"A war with Fantasia is the last thing we need. I have seen Windwood's monstrous strength before and after she was possessed by Nightmares; a battle with her and her cohorts would end disastrously no matter who came out on top," Luna agreed, frowning.

Celestia twitched upon hearing 'Nightmares' leave Luna's mouth. "They're struggling with them over on Fantasia?" she asked.

Luna nodded. "Very worryingly so, and few know they're even out and about," she confirmed. "There are… alternate means of dispatching them, but it requires the aid of the wraithling they recruited and military precision and timing on her part."

Celestia sighed, and turned her attention to Discord, figuring she could press for more details on Fantasia's Nightmare problem at a more convenient time. "And how did you receive this?" she asked, waving the sheaf of papers around for a moment.

Discord smirked. "Prince Blueblood himself found them in the family vault when he went to update something, and turned those over to me for safekeeping before he departed for Fantasia. I just waited for the right moment to pass them to you, now that you have the trials for the staff of the boarding school underway," he said. "He might be a twit in his own right, but even he has hard lines he wouldn't cross, and he couldn't stand the thought that dear ol' dad might get away with it otherwise."

Celestia smiled, though it was very faint. At least somepony of the Blueblood clan was looking out for their foreign nationals after all, however much he disagreed with them on trivial matters. She went back to scowling a moment later, and flipped the page to peruse the damning document. She had time yet, before the nobles would return to cankle her feathers some more over other pointless trivialities, and they would be in for a very nasty surprise when they returned.

~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~

Flash paled as what he said earlier suddenly came back to gobsmack him with the force of a runaway train. "... what if he was the one who…" he trailed off, eyes wide with horror and dread.

Natalie caught on, eyes also widening at first, before quickly narrowing. "Did you tell Celestia?" she asked quietly.

Flash Sentry nodded. "I made sure to, before we departed for here, but I only told her about his hissyfit because I didn't consider what he was ranting about sooner," he said simply. "Do you think she might be following through with—" Before he could finish the question, another plaid-colored portal opened up, and out came another pony with his mane smoking in places. It was a posh unicorn, with his hooves polished to a suspicious shine. Save for his very light gray coat and aging mane, beard, and choice of attire, he bore a marked resemblance to Prince Blueblood otherwise, if a bit thinner in the legs and portlier in his gut due to age.

Discord popped his head out of the portal again, grinning evilly. "Princess Celestia has just had evidence of this boorish sap colluding with a certain hotel that's been recently torn down plopped before her hooves. After, of course, I worked my chaos magic to make him do a few subtle slips of the tongue as he tried to pass his insane drivel off as actual, boring sanity," he said, looking pointedly at Natalie and Anna as he said that.

"Not only has he been banished, with his debt not falling on his son's withers, but now he can consider himself equina non grata to Equestria for the stunt he pulled on you guys. Feel free to do as you will with him and his boorishness." With that, he pulled his head back into the portal, which closed behind him. As he departed, sheafs of papers plopped on Lance's table as if from nowhere, and he frowned at what he beheld.

Anna teleported over to the newest bastard to grace the block, and lifted a flap of his suit to expose his cutie mark, which was a mountain of bits overlaid by a blue-and-purple family crest featuring a crowned unicorn's head. She retracted her claw, took a very few measured steps back, and shook her head, waiting for this sap to realize he was still alive before she did anything else.

Eventually, the boorish unicorn rose to stand, frowning as he lifted a hoof to put out the small fires in his otherwise well-kept mane. "It's going to take weeks of treatments to fix that…" he grumbled, steel gray eyes gravitating upwards for the moment, which prevented him from seeing what he was now surrounded by.

Blueblood trotted to the Crusaders' table, scowling. "Of course… father just had to ruin my day by showing up here. And here I was, hoping to get away from his insanity. I should have disowned him sooner," he muttered, shaking his head. "At least I'm repairing the damage he did with his blunder…"

The elder Blueblood looked around, scowling at all the changeling and gryphon faces that had now cast their eyes upon him in judgment. It wasn't long before the hissing began, followed in short order by the squawking of the gryphons as all of the soldiers understood what Discord had implied. The boorish bastard then whirled around to meet the face of one of the mares he had somewhat indirectly hurt through his little act of setting them up to stay at a now-infamous hotel for one night with them none the wiser.

Of course, a part of him now began to realize just how thoroughly screwed he was, but the rest of his inflated ego drowned it out to let his mouth begin flapping. "You," he growled, glaring at her as if he could hope to intimidate her. "You're the one who couldn't keep her filthy frumptious hooves to herself, defiling Princess Luna's wings like that in a public space! You're lucky she had the sense to tell you to step back, you wretched lowborn!"

The Crusaders watched the exchange, wondering when Anna would pull out the amount of arrows needed to turn the boorish stallion into a sea urchin. Yet she hadn't, opting instead to regard him with her own withering glare, silently waiting for him to further damn himself with his own words. He failed to disappoint, "You should have been violated and made to grovel before your betters for much longer; you should have been made to serve every whim with nothing more than a smile on your face. And yet, that stupid Captain Shining Amor had to put a stop to your rightful punishment. Him and his commonborn sentimentalities—those very values held by the lowest of the lowborn continue to damn Equestria as we speak!"

Katie snapped her wings open. But before she could move from her seat, a partially amputated wing spread across the table and tapped her on the snout, a silent command from her superior to order her to sit. She obeyed, watching out of the corner of her sockets as Natalie stood up, closed her wing, and marched to stand at Anna's side with a particularly grim expression.

Spike watched, a wry smile on his face. The Crusaders didn't need a rocket scientist to figure out what was on his mind, for his expression gave it away—'he's screwed.' Prince Blueblood more or less had the same expression, if a trifle smug as befitting a noble about to watch a thorough dressing down.

Lance and Matt were also watching with rapt attention, the former holding Maria in place so she wouldn't jump off and hurt herself in the process of scrabbling to the bastard. All the while, the soldiers around them continued to hiss and crow, the volume rising to a near-deafening din even as they saw that their superiors still had yet to speak to their newest quarry. Their Equestrian diplomats remained silent, yet for the most part they were scowling at the bastard who presently lacked a shovel to dig himself even faster than he was currently hurtling.

The boorish bastard then turned to Natalie, though he wasn't a dim enough bulb in the box to avoid noticing her wings and glowing mane. "Y-y-you're—?!" he stammered, eyes widening a bit before returning to their not-really-intimidating-to-military-commanders glare. "It matters not; you should have stopped your fellow lowborn from even approaching Princess Luna, you two-bit false alicorn whorse," he hissed, causing more than a few soldiers to gasp at what he said to Natalie, to her face. "You should have taken it like the good little bitch you are, yet you and your equally-unimportant companion failed to comply. You both failed to die accordingly. Have you two not been taught that you are lesser than your betters because of your social standing? Have you two no shame?!"

Natalie and Anna traded looks without moving their heads, then flicked their eyes back to the damned soul before them, a soul who from the looks of it had graduated from 'heading for the Iron Hold' to 'going splat on the bottom of the Aerie.' And at the rate he was going, he might transcend from that to 'being used as target practice for the ION Cannon' or 'being smited by Godcat' if he didn't keep his mouth shut.

Wood crept up Anna's sides from her shoulders and haunches, alongside vines that tangled around the masses to hold them together. The Crusaders watched as the wood flushed seamlessly over her scars, sprouting leaves that formed into fully jointed wooden wings that remained closed for now. Blueblood's smirk widened fractionally, yet he held his tongue—it would be better for the boorish bastard to continue digging his own trench, than for him to think that he had any help here at all.

Lance, however, wasn't so quiet. The sound of moving papers could be heard from his booth. "Well, well, well… he was in cahoots with those three stooges. Paid them a hefty sum of money just to violate, then attempt to murder two of my right hooves, and try to do likewise for my adopted daughter on the off-chance she might squeal. As it stands, that plan was so poorly thought out, my formerly geased self could run laps around it. What do you think, Matt—should we let the girls handle this?" Lance asked, his voice chillingly cold. The Crusaders tried to ignore what he said, but it was kind of hard to do so with the weight his words carried.

Shuffling papers resonated throughout the mess hall. "So, the stooges name dropped this wiseass… how do you pronounce that, Duke Aegis Aurum Blueblood? And the charges are… conspiring to commit treason to the crown, paying accomplices to carry out a crime in his stead because he was too good to get his own hooves dirty, trying to revoke our diplomatic immunity even though we hadn't really known we had it at the time, indirectly and directly sanctioning rape, murder, and racism against diplomats… hrm?" Papers shuffled again, and anyone who would have looked up at that moment would have seen that Matt's brow furrowed, with purple-black mist pooling from his eyes as he read the dossier.

"And a testimony of his own, written out, detailing a plan to remove the alicorn Princesses from their throne to install a racist unicorn king or queen in their place, or alicorn if they can make a naturally born-one, thereby cementing the nobility's rule… and barring that, kill any Fantasian diplomats to start a war with whatever military powers were present, with the intent to wipe them from existence and keep them from threatening the order he seeks to build…" The sound of papers plopping against the table echoed throughout the mess hall like a withering sanction. "Yeah, we should let the girls handle Aegis Blueblood this time around; they can take him," Matt answered grimly. "The Duke looks like he couldn't hold his own against Applejack, much less a pair of somewhat disabled alicorns."

"So that's the bad pony who told the other bad ponies to hurt mommy and Auntie Natalie? The one who wants to hurt the nice Princesses?" Maria asked, the frown audible in her voice. "Are they gonna kick his ass?"

"Yes, sweetie, they're gonna kick his ass," Lance reassured Maria. "Just sit tight and watch."

The boorish bastard lit his horn and procured an ornate sword from the ether with a purplish aura sporting blue sparkles, a hilt of gold and a blade of some kind of silver alloy inscribed with the same family crest as the one on his mark, surrounded by solar motifs. Having ignored Lance, Matt, and Maria's banter in favor of focusing on the wooden and organic wings and horns before him, and therefore having also ignored his own impending doom and damnation in the process, he steeled his resolve.

"Perhaps I should cut those wretched things off, remove both your wings and horns so you'll only be known as the lesser whorses you are! And once I am through here, I'll find my way back to Equestria and do the same for those commoner-coddling Princesses and install a proper unicorn ruler to the throne!" he proclaimed, leaping towards Anna and Natalie with his blade poised to strike. As soon as his hooves hit the tile, he swung his blade, aiming for the younger Lieutenant-General standing before him.

Anna simply reached up and grabbed the blade with her barky claw, stopping its swing mere inches from her horn, a look of complete disinterest on her face and without batting an eye. The blade did not even penetrate the wood by an inch, leaving only a thin gash on an otherwise perfectly sanded surface. She wrenched it free from his magic without ever lighting her horn, twirled it around with her raised claw, and swung as soon as the hilt went into her grip—all before the boorish bastard could have the sense to back off. The ornate engravings on the blade lit up with power as she swung, causing the blade to glow white-hot as she made her retaliation quickly known.

Silence fell among the soldiers as the boorish unicorn found his own severed horn falling from his head, clattering to the floor with a series of pings that might as well have been deafening in the disquieting tranquility. "A blade for cutting off horns, enchanted to make sure they don't grow back, huh," Anna said, shaking her head as she regarded the sword without ever looking at the now horrified face of her so-called adversary.

She went on, "It would prove awfully convenient to silence your victims with this thing, and y'know, I witnessed a similar thing in Greenwood when I was younger, only it didn't quite end in death. I wonder why Celestia let you keep this sword…" She turned to Natalie, lowering the blade to the floor for a moment. "What if we smelt it down and had it reforged into something more… useful around here?"

"We'd have to disenchant it first, but I'll see what the soldiers can come up with," Natalie answered, her gaze still pointed at the blubbering idiot who had been seconds away from fully crippling her comrade. "As it stands, I'd wager this moron has had some more hefty charges we don't know about levied against him to effectively go from a cushy life to hornless at our hooves."

"Y-y-you… you took away the only thing that made me a proper unicorn stallion!" the boorish bastard howled, starting to back away before Anna spread her wooden wings and willed her vines to grab and root him to the spot by his front legs. He pulled and pulled, but he wasn't going anywhere.

"The only thing? Do you want me to cut off the other thing you consider important, or do you want me to have one of my soldiers do it?" Anna asked, turning to regard the glowing blade as she ran her claws against its sharp edge, ignoring the paling face of what would quite possibly be the weakest opponent of her whole military career. She craned her neck to the Crusaders' table and asked, "Hey, Prince, do you want this thing?"

"You can keep it; it's a family heirloom that had been used to remove the horns of those my so-called father perceives to have wronged him if he thought he could get away with it," Prince Blueblood answered, shaking his head. "If he could, he would have used it on the maids, on mother, on some of the guards…" He shrugged. "I'm not surprised in the least by his foul behavior, considering I grew up with it. And honestly, I was expecting him to underestimate you two, considering you're both… somewhat disabled."

Anna nodded, and made the blade vanish back to the ether for now. She turned back to Blueblood's so-called father, her gaze still disinterested even as her vines began carving rashes into his fur. Then she looked around at all the soldiers and asked, "Who wants to take this hornless priss to the Iron Hold, and who wants to geld him while we're at it?" For a moment, she didn't receive an answer from the surrounding retinue, but rather from the idiot who thought it was a good idea to attack her on her home turf in front of innumerable witnesses.

"Y-you're among the worst of the worst, socializing with callously cold-blooded changelings and garishly gruesome gryphons! You have wood and other assorted plant matter on you, like some filthy commoner! You fight without dignity or honor, instead taking the first cheap shot that you can lay eyes on! Who are you?! What are you?!" the boorish bastard asked, still tugging to no avail. Anna regarded him, expression still somewhat disinterested even as her face darkened and her eyes glinted a dangerous shade of crimson.

"What am I?" Anna repeated, her voice cold. "What am I?" She barked out a mirthless laugh, one that sent shivers down the Crusaders' spines as soon as it began echoing in the mess hall. "What I am, currently… here on Fantasia, I'm so far ranked above you I could scrape you off of my bark without batting an eye. I could kill you, over and over, and none would have the heart to oppose me, save for the children behind me on a matter of principle. I could have you thrown to the wilds, in your current state, with absolutely none the wiser."

She did not lean into his face, drill into his soul with her gaze, or do anything of the sort. A dangerous, leonine growl began to resonate in her throat with the next words she had spoken, a predatory sound that only promised to rip and tear. "I could relegate you to a pathetic existence of suffering without end, keeping you alive for however long I wished so that you would cry out for death that wouldn't come. I could trap you in horrible ailments, each without any merciful cures. The remnants of your life would be spent toiling away desperately, trying to find anyone to help you, only to be turned away because you had the misfortune of trifling with me."

Throughout the tirade, Anna hadn't raised her voice beyond a chilling, damning monotone that carried across the mess hall with the eerie tranquility that a fatal sickness used to slaughter its victims with. Nor had her expression shifted in the slightest, save for her eyes moving to look into his. The most that moved besides her mouth and eyes were her wooden wings, shuddering slightly as the bastard struggled to get away from the vines attached to them.

"And you will know my name before you expire in obscurity, in sickness, in damnation, yet you will find the words unable to leave your cursed tongue, for you will regret this day that you have been banished from your homeland to be welcomed into a fate most horrible. You will know that you trifled not with a so-called 'lowborn false alicorn whorse' as you have so thoughtlessly perceived, but rather, a calamitous force that sows agony and ailments upon whoever crosses her."

"And as you lay, dying in debilitating madness and fear and solitude, you will understand that you dared to attack Lieutenant-General Anna Aria Windwood, fourth member of the Children of Catastrophe, the Venomous Tongue of Agonizing Ailments in her own home, with nobody to come to your aid. For you have committed a great and foul crime, one most terrible—using shady, illicit means to sour diplomatic relations before they could even form." Her damning gaze could have curdled milk at this, but she pressed on regardless.

"That was your first mistake; the second was assuming that your lackeys were actually competent. And you mistook me for one easily subjugated by said feckless, witless lackeys that you thought were smarter than you gave credit for. And even if I technically was successfully subjugated for just that one moment in time, on the grounds that they managed to restrain me while I was asleep, you had the unmitigated gall to assume they wouldn't be caught in the first place, and that the small contingent I had thought to bring in advance with me wouldn't notice something was up—your third error in judgment." At that one, Anna narrowed her eyes by the tiniest noticeable margin that she could manage, but the groveling bastard at her hooves somehow failed to notice this.

"And you so callously assumed that Shining Armor thought just like you did, and that Princess Celestia would just sit idly by and let your schemes continue unfolding, with both Princesses Luna and Cadence at her side. Mistake number four. And finally, wanting to start an interplanetary war with the full intent to eradicate all life here—its peoples, its cultures, its architecture—just so you can feel better about being a racist wannabe tin-pot tyrant complete with a puppet ruler to pass insane laws through, all because we just so happened to barge in to your Parliamentary meeting without understanding your decorum. That will be your last, and greatest mistake. I hope you can find the gumption to atone, but knowing your ilk… you probably won't until it is too late, and frankly, I do not care either way." She shook her head, and glanced around at the gathered soldiers, silently asking them: 'who wants to take him away?'

Every soldier in the mess hall raised their hooves and claws, metaphorically trampling over one another for the opportunity that had been presented to them. Blue Crow and Red Barrel surged forward from the throng, wicked grins on their beaks and talons gleaming as they raced to grab the bastard's withers in an ironclad, two-pronged grip. The boorish, hornless bastard had fear enter his eyes for the first time, and shouted as he struggled, "G-get away from me, filthy beasts! I'll have nothing to do with meat-eating flea-bitten mongrels! Somepony save me from these mindless brutes!" He spotted his son and shouted, "Prince Vladimir Polaris Blueblood! Save me, a-and I'll make you the heir to my vast fortune! I-I'll have you marry the best pureblood mare the nobles can offer! I-I can give you anything!"

Prince Blueblood shook his head, eating up the schadenfreude with delectable glee. "No can do; you got yourself into this mess, and you got caught. I was waiting for you to slip up, and now I get to watch the consequences of your vile actions. Besides, I hardly want anything to do with your blood money," he said disapprovingly, still wearing his crap-eating smirk as he watched his father's fate loom behind him. "Auntie Celestia treated me better than you ever did."

"Oh? What's the matter, tough guy?" Blue Crow taunted, his eyes gleaming maliciously as his face darkened, as if he were about ready to rip Aegis Blueblood apart with his bare claws. As he tightened his grip firmly enough to draw blood, Rose Windmill and Golden Chalice moved to flank him and Red Barrel. The hornless bastard turned to look at him with wide and terrified eyes, and Blue Crow's damning smirk only widened. "You don't look like the type to handle a mare who isn't of the legal age of consent in these parts; what makes you think we'll ease up on you because of what you had indirectly done?"

"Such crime-enablers like you only deserve to be tossed from the highest gangplank in the skies," Red Barrel intoned, her serval's tail flagging as her expression turned equally as evil as that of Blue Crow's. The Crusaders shuddered; the First Unified Army was scary when they wanted to be, and this was the first time they had well and truly seen their vicious side. Not even Stern Lecture warranted this level of cold, calculating calamity upon her withers, and that was a testament to how low her crimes ranked on the ladder in comparison to that of Aegis Blueblood's. "You don't deserve dignity, death, or even a trial by combat—you had proven yourself unworthy of those things the instant you called forth that horn-severing blade."

Golden Chalice seized a hind leg before it could lash out, keeping a firm grip with her yellow warbler talons, and she hissed with her white tiger's tail swishing, "Look at you, a haughty wretch who deserves only to have his legacy reduced to nothing. It seems as if you've finally met your match; perhaps the direct and indirect victims of your schemes can rest now, knowing you'll never darken another crook's hooves with your blood money ever again."

Rose Windmill grabbed the other hind leg, her caracal's tail also flagging as she spoke while her red crossbill talons tightened their hold. "It's just like we heard and saw—you're nothing but a coward, hiding behind your wealth and fancy blades. You can't even fight worth a damn, if a mare leagues younger than you can give you a final, well-deserved 'howdy do' to your horn without even trying." Blue Crow and Red Barrel moved to seize the already-secured front hooves, and between the four of them and his hornlessness, there was no hope of escape for the sad sack. Anna released her hold on the bastard, allowing him to be carted away as he shouted racist invectives upon deaf ears.

"Wow. What a stupid pony," Scootaloo said, amazed at how quickly and efficiently Anna had knocked the bastard down a peg. "Not only stupid because he thought he could get away with his crimes, but because he thought he could outclass a Lietenant-General in combat."

"Sounds like the type to run the school that foalsitter wanted to ship me to," Sweetie agreed, frowning at the thought. "She did mention a headmaster with noble lineage."

"Well, his bits and fancy title don't mean pigs' feet out here, and that ain't saying nothing about how badly he sucks at fighting," Apple Bloom said, with much nodding from the rest of the table. "We could run laps around him even without our new magitek whatchamacallits, and he didn't look like he really heard her so much as he heard his own panic. Although… the military's soldiers are meaner than manticores during hunting season when they want to be."

"I would be meaner than a manticore too, if I found out the nobles of the country I was born in wanted to hurt anyone that way," Sweetie replied, shaking her head. She turned to Prince Blueblood, frowning. "Are there any other nobles in Equestria like that?"

Prince Blueblood nodded sadly. "Though, they're careful enough to never say it out loud, in public, with enemies literally everywhere they turn," he answered bitterly. "They'd be jailed or worse if they let slip any of their endgame plans to someone who could do something about it."

Sweetie nodded; she went back to looking over the almost-completed report, a little too eager to forget what she had just witnessed as soon as possible. Her friends mimicked the motion, trading notes amongst themselves before long. Even then, she realized, when she had foals of her own: she might regale them with the tale of how Blueblood's genetic donor got the dressing down of his life.

Pinkie jolted, shifting through many facial expressions in the span of a few seconds, all of them varying shades of disgusted. Her tail straightened up, her hooves launched her into the air, her mane shivered as if it were cold, and her eyes bugged out while her tongue stuck out. The hat launched off of her head and span around in the air with a flourish, then plonked back down between her ears crookedly. Afterwards, she landed on her hooves and sighed. "Well… we found our doozy…" she grumbled, ears pinning back. "At least it's been sorted out…" She turned to Blueblood. "Lemme guess: he hurt you too, didn't he?" Blueblood silently nodded, which the Crusaders ignored as they began scribbling notes again.

Katie glanced up from her seat, noticing the somewhat unfocused looks of her charges. She turned to her superiors, then Blueblood. "I think you scared the kids again," she said bluntly. "You'd better fix it before Applejack wallops you." At that, Anna and Natalie flinched with their ears pinning back to their heads, and they trotted over to the table to sort that out. Blueblood nodded, and went to help as well, seeing as he was already at the scene of the crime.

It would take a bit more convincing than they expected to calm the children down afterwards.

Sixth Day, Afternoon—Conveyors of Cargo

Once the children had been assured that the kerfuffle over the boorish dunderhead had been dealt with, and that the military wouldn't give them heart attacks anymore, Natalie led them and Katie to one of the hangars. Unlike most hangars, between airships and drones were some lifts heading down, big enough to fit Blue Crow's plane or the Scylla if they could position it properly. The first lift they saw was the one they boarded, going down, down, down into the mountain through a tunnel that was lit with magitek crystals.

"So Anna's good with swords?" Sweetie Belle asked, tilting her head. "But isn't archery her special talent?"

"Well… that and making plants grow, but yes. Matt and I had to train her on fighting with various weapons as part of her initiation program, before she settled on archery; most of her other skills were taught to her by her parents, which she has honed over the years. Some are impractical, yes, but those she keeps as hobbies on the side," Natalie answered, her wings ruffling. "Better to have some skill in a myriad of weapons, than to be really good at a certain weapon and be unable to use anything else once you're disarmed." She rolled her eyes and added, "Also, we taught her some pretty obvious tells that enemies can and will do if they're stupid enough so she could counter them, and that tell by Duke Aegis was as obvious as he could get."

"He telegraphed that attack so hard he launched himself to the moon without aid," Katie translated, a trifle smug as her orbs gleamed wickedly. "Even I could have dodged that strike, and that's if I were blindfolded."

"Well, you have working wings. What would he have done, float the sword to the ceiling to get to you?" Sweetie asked, shaking her head ruefully. "He looked like he didn't have a single bit of combat experience."

"Or spellcasting experience, for that matter. Not that it is a concern for him anymore, since he lost his horn privileges," Natalie said drolly, with the air of somepony who might have severed more than a few horns in her wake. "And while we're speaking of experience, we need to broaden Sarah's combative horizons a fair bit; sure, she has her special talent, but from what I've seen, she hardly knows how to use it effectively."

"What about Lazarus?" Scootaloo asked, wings buzzing as she felt the lift begin to slow down.

"He might need some sprucing up of his combat skills too, but considering he held his own pretty well, it might not take much for him to catch up," Natalie replied with a shrug. "Plus, Matt and I rekindled our frenemyship with him, so at least he'll have some sparring sessions to look forward to."

"Frenemyship?" Apple Bloom asked, frowning at the word. "Sounds like a bunch of old ponish to me."

"Well, that's just what we called it when we were kids," Natalie replied with a grin. "Sometimes we were friends, sometimes we were enemies, but always sticking together until we decided to split. Honestly, it's good to know he's still alive and kicking."

"So, are there any other alicorns on Fantasia?" Scootaloo asked, tilting her head.

Natalie's smile fell. "Well… there are. Mostly holed up in Redpine, upon whom we're strongly considering initiating the Catastrophe Protocol on, which… involves us basically murdering them all before they can murder us in turn," she said, a tinge of sadness to her voice. "They've… been up to no good. There was also one in Greenwood, and… we've found corpses of potential others in that area."

"What happened to the living one in Greenwood?" Sweetie Belle asked. Natalie did not answer with words; rather, she closed her eyes and shook her head as if to say 'they were a lost cause.' Sweetie frowned. "Oh… that's unfortunate…"

"Are… are all the alicorns on Fantasia like that?" Scootaloo asked. "Like… crazy?"

Natalie sadly nodded. "The craziness has affected even us, to an extent. But we at the military seem to be the only ones who see it for what it is, as far as native-born Fantasians go. We don't want to perpetuate it anymore," she replied, looking up as the lift shook and stopped, revealing a tall glass door before her and her charges that opened to admit them into the cargo bay. She took point and trotted out, content to let the others fall into step behind her.

On either side stretched a massive hall with a gentle curve to it, and on their left were a few more lifts that were empty for the time being. The ceiling was high, about as high as the factory in fact, which was probably a necessity given how much the army was raking in scavenged goods. Besides the lifts, there weren't any doors here, but there were the shapeshifting holes that the changeling soldiers used to punch in and punch out of their shifts.

Immediately, a few soldiers turned to them, with one to the left of the collection of lifts waving Natalie over with a hoof. She turned and approached him, a brow raised. "Yes?" she asked.

"Ma'am, are you sure you should be flashing your wings?" the soldier asked, frowning. He jerked his head towards the kids behind her and added, "Because, well… kids are notorious tattletales, and I don't think they should be in the know."

Natalie sighed. "Well, a pair in one of the guard posts shot their mouths off with these three in earshot, so Matt had to tell them to avoid sinking airships," she said with a frown. "I trust them not to tattle."

The soldier slowly nodded, as though a part of him wasn't buying it. Still, he knew better than to call his superior's judgment into question, and potentially sink another airship in the process. Better to have that talk behind closed doors. "Alright… just… I hope…"

Natalie shushed him with a hoof to his lips. "I know. They're kids, albeit… not anywhere as ignorant as the Fantasian standard. Don't be so harsh on them, okay?" she asked. The soldier nodded, and she parted her hoof from his lips.

The Crusaders traded looks. "Fantasian kids are ignorant?" Sweetie asked.

Katie nodded. "Oh yeah; I heard from Twilight that a lack of functioning schools on this planet tends to have that effect. Most ponies in other provinces would claim to come from the School of Hard Knocks, but couldn't tell you their frog from their ribcage," she answered. "Trust me… there's a lot of stupidity abound on this planet, and most of it is concentrated in villages that would rather pass down what little they know, than to expand that knowledge by leaving their communities once in a while. Part of why Maria is the way she is—and also why she's not allowed any playdates at the moment."

"The School of Hard Knocks is quite unforgiving with its methods of so-called teaching," Natalie said as an aside, watching as the soldier who had confronted her meandered away to continue on with his duties. With him returning to his work, the group was now free to meander through the cargo bay as they saw fit, and Natalie trotted ahead towards the immediate area on the right to the lift she had disembarked from, seeming to aim for something that was stomping about in the distance.

As they followed her, the Crusaders looked to the door of the lift they had left; it was as tall as an airship, probably by necessity since the lift itself was that size. But they wondered: whatever needed to be that size just to fit through? Their attention was torn away from that question as they heard Natalie spring a leak and start swearing.

"Okay, whose idea was it to put the Godcat-damned Mighty Oak here?!" Natalie howled, wings flared and flapping as she regarded the thing that managed to light her fuse. The Crusaders and Katie approached, the latter looking on in amusement and the former in confusion as they turned to beheld a massive golem made of wood and metal, twice as tall as Big Mac, and roughly the width of an airship's gangplank. It stood upright, with a metal jaw, a stubby body with a flat top on stubby legs, a drill for one hand and a clawed shield for the other. The face was beset with hollow, ovular eyes, and right now said eyes regarded Natalie with some measure of bemusement of its own.

A changeling soldier approached, sighing. "Lieutenant-General Starcovert, this… is the only place we could put the Mighty Oak for the time being," he said, eyes half-lidded and fully expectant of the firing of the cannon that turned to him in a heartbeat.

"Elaborate," Natalie said tersely, a glare on her face that radiated the air of somepony about to bust some skulls.

"We do not have much forests at this time here at the Aerie, and we'd have to grow some more in the sparse plains before we can put him in them." The soldier gestured to the still-perplexed Mighty Oak and added, "Furthermore, we were… distinctly under the impression that if the former villagers of Greenwood saw him, they'd try something funny, so this is more of a safety matter for the villagers than anything. Also, you seem to have forgotten his size, which is another factor that put him here to begin with. At the very least, we have his consent, so… as long as he's okay with it, I don't think we should mind."

The Mighty Oak waved a drill-arm to conjure runes with a power that pulsed across the limb, forming that strange alphabet which hovered in front of him. Natalie turned, read the runes, and sighed, her wings drawing closed. "Fine… just… let me know next time, okay?"

"Will do, ma'am," the soldier replied, and with that, he turned to trot away.

Scootaloo trotted up to the Mighty Oak, and while he had some difficulty angling his body to look at her, he did extend his shield-arm to let her know he knew she was there. She squeed, extended a hoof to touch the shield, and got a nod from the golem. "He's so cool! It's like he's magitek and nature all rolled into one package!" she said with a grin. She turned to Natalie. "Did you build him?"

Natalie shook her head and allowed herself to relax. "Nope, he was constructed before any of us were even born," she answered. "Most we have is that an alicorn crafted him and brought him to life, with full sapience and everything." She turned to the Oak and added, "Of course, he… communicates exclusively in ancient alicorn as a result. He… was in Greenwood when everything went south over there, so he had to be extracted too."

"Is he part of the military?" Sweetie questioned.

Again, Natalie's head shook. "Truth be told… I'm not sure we can recruit him without him punching one of us into the nearest wall," she said with a shrug. "Or that he'd be exactly willing after what happened."

"What'd he do, fight you?" Apple Bloom asked.

Natalie nodded. "When we visited him for the first time, during the Godcat fiasco, and after Anna had lost her mind regarding three sacred jewels keeping Godcat sealed," she said. "We were flying over Greenwood, just checking on them, keeping out of sight with cloaking spells and spying on the villagers with telescopes. Because her eyes are sharper than ours, she could see that the jewel Greenwood had was missing without a telescope, and would not stop bugging us until we agreed to help her find it. She thought the Mighty Oak must've known where the jewel went, and challenged us for the right to know that information. He's a lot tougher than he looks, especially if you're like me and holding back all your power just to avoid dropping burning meteors everywhere."

"You hold back?" Scootaloo asked.

Natalie nodded once more. "We kinda had to do that during the visit to Equestria as well, just to keep ponies from asking us too many questions. Celestia would have roasted us on a spit if she found out what we actually were," she said simply.

"Again, arson-themed cutie marks," Katie piped up. "Kept under tight wraps." She pointed at her superior. "Technically walking, talking arson right there." That earned her a smack upside the head from a partially-amputated wing, albeit not hard enough to even jerk her muzzle downwards.

"Oh hush," Natalie ordered, rolling her eyes.

"And if I don't?" Katie challenged, her tone smug.

"You won't get any purple wasp tonight," Natalie said simply. She grinned as Katie recoiled, wings snapping open and orbs dilating.

"You wouldn't," Katie hissed.

"I definitely would," Natalie answered. "Behave." Katie wilted, and her superior relented with wings ruffling. She began trotting once more, going around the Mighty Oak. He waved at them, and tromped off to head elsewhere in the cargo bay. The Crusaders waved back, and trotted after their taller companion, with Katie sulking behind them and grumbling about how Natalie was fibbing.

It wasn't long before they came upon the crane they had seen in the photographs, and the Crusaders paused to look at it. "What's that for?" Sweetie asked, causing Natalie to turn to her as she pointed at the crane.

Natalie followed the filly's raised hoof and looked at the crane. "Oh, that. Sometimes we get to use crates so huge, it'd otherwise take a lot of magic from a lot of soldiers just to lift. It helps us sort really big, important boxes," she said. "We don't use it a lot, considering we're self-sufficient, but when we do it's kinda like opening a big present. And for such a thing, one of us has to be on standby, in case we get… weird items."

"Weird items? Like what?" Scootaloo asked, ears twitching as she heard the sound of something wooden sliding across the floor, followed by the floor itself shaking. She turned to Natalie, then poked her head around her to find quite possibly the strangest treasure chest she had seen yet, with an open, flexible top revealing fleshy flaps and teeth lining its edges, tentacles, and a pony-shaped figure in it all. In turn, the weird box was being followed by the biggest, hairiest, tuskiest elephant the Crusaders had seen, easily half the height of an airship and trumpeting as it wrapped its trunk around the base of the weird box.

Natalie turned to the pair who approached, and sighed. She turned to the hairy elephant. "Thank you, Mr. Tusks. I don't know what I'd do if Grabs McFlaps over there managed to snag my dress again," she said, smiling warmly at Mr. Tusks, who nodded with eyes beaming.

The weird box she had addressed as 'Grabs McFlaps' crossed her fleshy forelegs together, pouting. "You hardly make any time for me anymore! It's always work, work, work with you," she complained, frowning and giving Natalie some puppy dog eyes. The fact she had functioning eyes and a mouth weirded the Crusaders out somewhat.

"... why do you have a talking box and a hairy elephant?" Sweetie asked.

"Wooly mammoth, actually," Natalie corrected. "Mr. Tusks is the last of his kind, so we took pity on him and brought him here for protection. As for the box… she's actually a sentient mimic, a type of being that eats travelers who really should double-check their treasure chests every so often." She gestured to said mimic. "She's… flirty with me for some reason, so we took her in too…"

The Crusaders flinched and went "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeew!" in unison.

The mimic tried to slide up to Natalie, but Mr. Tusks had a firm grip on the bottom of her chest. It wasn't for a lack of trying, though, thanks to her tentacles. She turned to the mammoth and continued to gripe, "You're no fun, hairball! You're such a buzzkill!" She turned to Natalie. "Please tell him to let me go~" she pleaded in a husky voice, which Natalie was unfazed by.

"Can't; got children to wrangle," Natalie said curtly. She spread a wing and nudged the trio forward. "She won't bite," she said.

Scootaloo stepped forward, looking at her first flesh-and-blood mimic. The feeling in her gut could best be described as weird, but then again, she hadn't expected said mimic to pitch a hissyfit just because she couldn't actually get to her intended target. "Hello, do you have a name?" she asked.

The mimic turned to her, lifted her hooves to her face, and began fawning. "Aaaaaw, Natalie, I didn't know you were such a big softy~" she cooed, eyes sparkling. "Yes I do have a name; it's Pyrite," she answered, moving to scoop Scootaloo up in her forelegs, only to be pulled back by Mr. Tusks, who trumpeted disapprovingly.

Scootaloo turned to Natalie. "So… why do you have a mimic?" she asked.

"Long story, but—" Natalie began, only to glower a little when Pyrite cut her off.

"Oh, I was in a volcano, and confronted after Akron was slain," Pyrite said, a twinkle in her eyes as she clasped her hooves next to her cheek and swooned. "Of course, I did fight them, but I was just one mimic up against the big, bad world of Fantasia. And also against my darling Natz—" Natalie rolled her eyes at this, "—and against two stallions who tried to rob me as opposed to the other way around!" A hoof went to her forehead, indicating a faint, "And my heroine pulled the brutes back and ordered them to stop before she gelded them, and they listened, and they took me in afterwards as an apology~"

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes. Pyrite was as dramatic as her sister already, and she felt as though she could only handle so much in one day. "Rarity in duplicate," she thought to herself, shaking her head.

"Oh, this is rich," Katie commented, watching with glee. She pranced in place and added, "What next, you gonna attract skeleton hydras with your glossy ass?"

Natalie growled and bapped the wraithling with her wing again before turning to address her. "Shut up," she growled between clenched teeth.

"Not my fault your shiny crystalline ass has its own magnetic field, attracting all the perverts for miles and miles around," Katie replied, only to get bapped once again. Some of the soldiers watching the altercation were snickering at this, grinning at the seemingly suicidal wraithling and her antics.

"You little—" Natalie groaned, lifted her wings, and shook them in the air like a pair of incomplete fists. "I'm surrounded by horndogs!" she complained.

"What's a horndog?" Apple Bloom asked, only to be shushed by a wing.

"You don't need to know," Natalie said quickly, before turning her attention back to Pyrite, only to find her glaring at the wraithling.

"Who brought that ugly thing here?" Pyrite asked, trying to reach Katie to no avail. "I'll crack her skull open for you, my darling!"

Katie didn't even flinch as the tentacles came to within an inch of her snout. The most she did was light her stub-horn, building a crackling aura of crimson that began to form a mask of ice over her face. "Watch it, primadonna," she said in warning, "or else you're gonna have icicles on your teeth."

Pyrite hissed and recoiled at the crackling magic, eyes warily watching the wraithling as she dimmed her broken horn. She noticed something weird, and decided to pipe up, "Wait, aren't changelings supposed to… y'know, die in the cold?"

"She's packing glycerin in her veins. You could put her into an ice cube, and she wouldn't give a damn," Natalie answered with a roll of her eyes. "Unless you thaw her out with fire, and then she might care."

"Like you did," Katie chirped, only to get bapped upside the head by a wing again.

"That situation was partly your fault, if I remember correctly," Natalie said, frowning and shaking her head.

"Hey, it wasn't like I asked to have that chunk of hail hit me upside the head on that balcony! I just wanted to do some sightseeing!" Katie argued, wings buzzing with a hum that somehow sounded indignant.

"Which is pointless, since you're half-blind," Natalie countered, shaking her head as she heard more passing soldiers snickering like schoolchildren. She turned to Pyrite and added, "Anyway, gotta wrangle the children, finish their nickel tour, yadda yadda catchuptoyoulater," she said hurriedly, lighting her horn and lifting the children and wraithling off the ground before speeding around Pyrite and Mr. Tusks with her wings half-flared.

"Wait! I didn't even get the chance to hold you in my tentacles! Where are you going?" Pyrite called after Natalie to no avail, her voice diminishing with distance until it faded. Natalie waited until she had rounded some more of the curvature before slowing down, then stopping to put the children and wraithling back onto their hooves. She looked around, seeing soldiers looking at her funny, and upon registering the lack of a persistent mimic, allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief.

"It's like everywhere I go, everyone wants a piece of my cutie mark… first the asswipes who ran that stadium, then Lance, then Beholders, then mimics, and now shady business fronts and petulant mare-children pretending to be nobles…" Natalie grumbled, shaking her head at the indignity of it all. "What the hell did I do to deserve this? How many puppies did I kick in a previous life to warrant this?"

"Is it because you're beautiful?" Sweetie asked, causing Natalie to choke on the air, flare her wings, and blush at the same time.

"Like I said, her ass has its own magnetic field," Katie unhelpfully answered, causing her superior to sputter. "I'm calling it now: wraiths will want a piece of the action one day, and she'll have to punt them to Mythos or the moon to get them off her case." That got some of the soldiers nearby to double over laughing, only adding to the poor Lieutenant-General's growing embarrassment.

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew!!" the Crusaders howled in unison, flinching away from their undead chaperone as they got the unfortunate mental image of an undead creature trying to hit on a beautiful mare, and failing in spectacular fashion.

"I—who—why—" was all Natalie could manage to get out, her face beet red from mortification as she turned to her mouthy subordinate with widened eyes.

If Katie could grin slyly, she would have done so in that moment. As it was, she was eating up the schadenfreude with the same glee that social-ladder-climbing-nobles used when witnessing one of their betters take a prideful fall. "You know, on the way to the hangar, I saw some soldiers playing charades," she added, orbs twinkling in amusement. "One leaned on a sword, another on a staff, and the third made a hat like Lance's before putting tree twigs in the holes in their holey legs."

"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!" Natalie croaked, now red to the ears and the tip of her horn.

"Oh yeah, and they were talking about the burst of love they felt last night, too. If they didn't have slimes handy, they'd have ate it up like dessert," Katie said, her tone turning positively crap-eating. "You know…" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Sweetie regarded Katie with a flat expression. "... what are you on about?" she asked.

"Youdon'twannaknow!" Natalie squealed in one breath, using her magic to conjure noise mufflers to plop on the Crusaders' heads. At the same time, she used her wings to cover her face, muttering obscenities into her feathers to the tune of another round of laughter from the lower ranks surrounding her. With her ears pinned back, she waited until the laughter died down before peeking her head out from beneath her feathers, and then spreading her wings and bapping the wraithling upside the head with both limbs in question. That time, she did this hard enough to jerk Katie's snout downwards, but other than that she was fine.

Once she was certain the jeering had hushed completely, she removed the noise mufflers from the Crusaders' ears and sighed. She looked around to see where she had dragged the foals off to, and smiled upon seeing shapeshifting holes yawning wide enough to reveal crates beyond them. She trotted that way, her embarrassment slowly receding as she made a mental note to keep her promise for the night. The children and mouthy wraithling followed her, the former wondering what had gotten Natalie so flustered and the latter snickering to herself over the whole ordeal.

"Do you sort the cargo boxes by contents?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"We do; makes it easier to get something we need instead of having piles of clutter to sort through," Natalie answered, wings ruffling. She peered inside the shapeshifting hole, lighting her horn to better see the labeling on the boxes. "... this is ammunition for blasters, gunblades, and the machine guns on the planes," she reported. She turned to the children. "We have two types of ammunition: smaller, metal bullets, used mainly for gunblades like what Lance has, and larger, sturdy crystal shards for anything mounted onto something."

The Crusaders traded looks. "Why do you use crystals for ammo?" Apple Bloom asked, tilting her head. "'Cause if you charge 'em with mana, they might just explode before firing."

Natalie grinned. "Excellent point; for that reason, we use crystals that have already died and can't collect any charges anymore," she answered. "Of course, we sort by grades: Grade S is for the machine guns on the airborne magitek, like what Blue Crow and his squadron uses. Grade A is for ground-bound machine guns, typically found scattered around the guard posts and monitored by the soldiers therein. Grades B and C are used for the portable blasters, mainly in conjunction with other spells that are cast through said weapons, with the crystals acting as shrapnel." She watched as the children wrote that down.

"How many Grades do you got for the crystals?" Scootaloo asked, wings buzzing.

"We stop at D, then skip to F and halt completely," Natalie answered. "Grade F crystals… well, you might as well use them for chandeliers; they're cracked, but can be cut into other forms provided they're big enough. D is slightly better, if you want something fancier… like, say, a necklace or hairpin." She gestured to the necklaces on her neck, which showed an eight-point silver star, a golden pentagram, and a golden five-point star. "Obviously, though, D and F Grade crystals are useless for combat, and generally are cheap to replace, so I wouldn't tout them on armor or uniforms like good ol' enchanted metal." She shrugged. "Of course, gryphons and changelings don't particularly fancy non-enchanted jewelry around here for pretty much that reason, barring whatever special occasions we even bother to have around here."

She trotted along the wall, towards another hole in it containing more boxes. Once she stopped, the children stopped as well, and she poked her head in to glimpse the label. These crates were far bigger than even the Mighty Oak, so it didn't take long for her to spot the label. "Ah, fresh crystals." She pulled her head back before she could set any off with her brief illumination spell. She turned to the foals again. "We collect them from various abandoned mines around Fantasia, the biggest of which we have yet to delve into proper being the Crystal Caverns that separates Greenwood's former location from Whitefall Town. That place is loaded with crystals, but also ice and lava, so we'll have to map that one carefully after getting Whitefall's permission to mine it."

"And what about the other caverns you mine?" Sweetie pressed, tilting her head.

"Well, we've got those caverns to ourselves, barring the few ponies who have already worked and lived there for their trades. So long as we don't interfere with those few, we're fine." Natalie sighed, feathers ruffling for a moment. "Oftentimes, said caverns also have wraiths and other assorted nasties in there that need clearing out on occasion, so every soldier that goes to get fresh batches is armed to the teeth."

She let her eyes gravitate upwards again as she did numbers in her head. "And these crystals last us for a good year and a half, so we really only take what we need and no more. They come in big chunks, too, which we break into fragments by hoof and determine by grade. Same grading system as the dead crystals, with S being the best and F being next to useless." She brought her gaze back down to the children once more. "Of course, fresh crystals are volatile, so we have to handle them carefully or else there's going to be accidents." She lifted a hoof and gestured to a sign on the other side of the hall, reading 121 days accident-free! with adjustable numbers on spinning dials.

"So, about the cuisine here…" Sweetie went on, grinning as the last bits of information were jotted down. "I couldn't help but notice in the mess hall that you guys really like your meat. Not the gryphons and changelings—you and the other higher-ups specifically. Is there a reason for that?"

Natalie wilted a bit. "Well… Alexander ran tests on us; Anna, Lance, and Sarah have to have it in their diets due to their mixed heritage, or else they risk losing out on vital nutrients. Lance in particular has a condition called Diomedis Defectus, where if he eats too many greens, he runs the risk of getting sick. Me, Matt, and Lazarus have it as… acquired taste, during our little 'sticky hooves' period when we were busy trying to survive after the Catastrophe," she answered. "Not a whole lot of room to grow your own things when half the world's after you."

"And what dishes do you cook up, using those meats?" Sweetie pressed.

"Well…" Natalie curled a wing and held a feather to her chin as she contemplated. "Tortoise shell soup, using mostly obsidian tortoises because the forest, glacier, and lava variants are inedible, roasted black bird with tortoise bacon stuffing, crab shell parfaits, which are savory…" As she rattled off the cuisines of the Aerie, she lit her horn to procure pictures of the dishes in question. A massive black shell, hewn of obsidian and three times as big as a pony, was sat on the table, with crescent-shape protrusions sawn off and used to hold it up. Inside was a meaty stew, attended to by changelings with massive metal ladles and sprinkled with bits of cheese.

Another showed the bird in question, before butchering and after. The beast was raven-like, with an uncanny and wicked stare, glaring at whoever took the photo. After, it looked like roast chicken with standard stuffing. The crab shell parfaits were interesting; as tall as a pony, sharp on one end and held up in what looked like an oversized chip cone, with a warm and bubbly pastry capping the opening of the shells. The jellyfish dishes were noodly, lathered up in sauce and accompanied by what looked like chopped up squid tentacles. The fish dishes were standard, and otherwise of little note.

"So, what else do you cook? Besides the Burning Frost Specials?" Sweetie asked, hoping to get the discussion back on track.

Natalie brightened considerably. "Well, we also make various desserts and savory dishes. Hot potato pie, which has our spiciest peppers in it as well as other vegetables, rice stir-fry, and squid rings," she said, providing pictures of the dishes in question. The potato pie had bits of corn and beans, mixed with potatoes and weird, heart-shaped chilis lathered in a rich gravy and encased in a firm, buttery crust sprinkled with bits of cheese and garlic. The stir-fry was standard, but the squid rings were weird: fried bread, about the size of a standard cylinder-shaped loaf, cut into slices with pieces of squid mixed in, arranged in a ring formation.

"You have squids?" Sweetie asked, regarding the photographs of the squid rings.

Natalie nodded. "Though, they're three times as tall as a pony, and really grabby and hostile. We farm those elsewhere," she answered. "Unless it's the kind that's toxic, which we just kill on sight." She also averted her eyes briefly. "And they really, really like to get under mares' skirts for some reason…" she muttered under her breath.

"Lemme guess: swimming accident," Katie proffered, causing Natalie to choke on the air again.

Natalie turned her head to the wraithling. "H-how—" she stammered.

Katie wore the schadenfreude on her nonexistent sleeve. "Well, I couldn't help but overhear some soldiers saying something earlier, and they were the same ones playing charades. They said something about some scandalous photographs that circulate in places like Whitefall, Goldenbrick, and a nameless town near a place called Vegetable Forest. Supposedly…" The edges of her split mouth somehow curled into themselves. "They were taken by somepony you're very close with, if you catch my drift. And they show you, in a one piece swimsuit, being fondled by squids at Rock Lake."

Natalie lit her horn to shut the wraithling's mouth with her magic. Alas, she seemed to forget about the split grin, which Katie was all too happy to remind her about. "Oh yeah, and those who were playing charades flashed me such a photo," she said unhelpfully, to much groaning from the Crusaders complete with a roll of the eyes. That got her a crimson shield conjured around her skull, which muffled whatever else came out of her face.

"You're in time-out until you tell me what the soldiers who came upon the photographs look like!" Natalie barked, flustered once again. Katie just tipped her chin smugly, content that she had managed to rankle her superior's feathers in such a way.

"It seems like Fantasian stallions don't have any manners," Sweetie remarked, to much nodding from her friends. "Well, except for the ones here, at least."

Natalie groaned, spread a wing, and slammed it into her face. "Tell me about it," she grumbled into her feathers. "I oughta have a talk with Matt and Lance about this later…"

"Have you had a chance to expand your cuisine, perhaps?" Scootaloo asked.

Natalie shook her head. "Not a lot of edible things on Fantasia, and every other plant we've tried has got us wondering where the damn ground is sometimes. I swear, if Anna hadn't made that list of what plants were and weren't edible, based on what she knew, we'd have probably taken more trips to the medical wing than necessary…" she replied, sighing. Then she smiled. "But, if relations with Equestria go well, we might be able to expand on our cuisine."

Well, there was some hope, at least. The Crusaders jotted the information down, and made sure to add the tidbit of not many things being edible on Fantasia. At least the slime ranch had a lot of the edible plants for the Aerie to use, as well as the gardens of the guard posts. Hopefully, they would benefit from imported food, and not kill themselves by failing to consult the list of inedibles that Natalie had mentioned.

And speaking of inedibles, they might consult Anna for that list later, solely to compare the nasties with the goodies. Although… the endeavor that night would be a difficult one to pull off, they would find, for reasons that they would have naturally disagreed with.

Sixth Day, Evening—Lonesome March

In their little guest room, the trio put the finishing touches on the seventh chapter of their report, making sure to include illustrations for the various food items that the Aerie produced, as well as some of the rather peculiar ingredients used before the butchering and cooking processes began. Better to have little flourishes here and there, and be fancy, than to favor function over form and confuse the hell out of Cheerilee and the rest of the class.

And the illustrations were fun to make, though they had to take a few go-arounds with lead and eraser before settling on a final design that they then reinforced with ink. Erasing the rest of the lead once the ink dried was quick work, and left their little drawings as pristine as unblemished chalk.

In addition to that, all they had to complete were the footnotes and references part of their report—the trickiest part of all. Most of what they had so far were verbal testimonies, and the cliffnotes taking heed of said verbal testimonies. If they had something written by the Fantasians themselves, it would cinch it—and therein lay the first true problem they had encountered with their report. Sure, the photographs were real enough, but those hardly contained words.

So, they needed to get that tidied up before returning for Equestria on the morrow. Only Godcat knows what Cheerilee would say if they even tried to half-attempt this section. Question was… how were they going to obtain what they were after? As far as they knew, the adults only had magical projections of their memories, and hardly anything concrete otherwise—they'd need to pull off the impossible feat of smuggling a General and his Lieutenants into the classroom, which… might traumatize their classmates.

Which would leave them little better than Fantasia's careless, cruel adults if they went down that route, especially since the military needed their leaders to be with them because of some stupid war with Redpine looming on the horizon. So they had to take the next best thing: asking the soldiers if they knew where their superiors were at. Unfortunately, the question had been dodged numerous times, as the soldiers only said they had to prepare for something that same night, so the Crusaders might as well have been outta luck. However, if they got what they were after on the morrow, then finished tomorrow night before school, everything would be peachy keen.

So why, then, were the soldiers preparing for things other than the looming war with Redpine? What, then, were they preparing for? Something didn't add up, and Apple Bloom crossed her forelegs at the thought. She looked to her friends and asked, "Did y'all notice anything weird with the soldiers?"

Scootaloo frowned. "They were all wearing hats… and frowns," she said with a shrug. "Even Blue Crow and his group had hats… but why do they need them? Is it gonna start raining in the Aerie or something?"

Sweetie pursed her lips, then shook her head. "I dunno about you, but they sounded sad. Like… not crying-sad, but just, 'this memory makes me sad,' if that makes sense?" she proffered. "It's almost like something jogged their memory banks, and now it's causing them to wilt or something."

"Yeah. The changelings, I can understand, given what they eat," Scootaloo agreed with a nod. "But the gryphons are doing the same thing, and nobody can tell us why? I'm trying to wrap my head around that. And ever since we've come back from the cargo bays, nobody's seen the General or his Lieutenants. Which is a bummer, if we can't finish this report on time…"

"We'll finish it on time; we have to. Cheerilee didn't say the report couldn't be late, but I don't wanna know what'll happen if it is late," Apple Bloom said, a hoof on her hips and a frown on her face.

"Yeah, but… where are the General and his Lieutenants? We need them to write out something concrete so we can use it as a reference for our report's last section," Scootaloo pointed out, wings spreading and then lowering.

"... but what would they write down? They wouldn't mention the fact they're alicorns or a half-Umbrum to anyone outside the military, and had to tell soldiers to stop shooting their mouths off," Sweetie replied, shaking her head. "That, and we don't know the full story of Greenwood, just that it was really awful."

"Not to mention the whole thing about the Fantasians not liking their own alicorns," Scootaloo said, pursing her lips at the thought. What on this kooky planet had said alicorns done to get the entire populace roused against them and their children? And did it have something to do with Faust before She got Herself sealed?

Before they could trade notes again, they heard a distinct hum in the air, a vibrating note that grew in volume, and looked around the guest room. Hovering above the bed were wisps of ice and fire that did not freeze or scald anything, intermingling with light and dark in an intricate dance that solidified into twin, suspiciously legged cats with white fur and blue eyes, and black fur with red eyes respectively. The cats turned to look at the fillies, with oddly… solemn expressions on their faces.

Hesitantly, the three approached the floating felines, wondering what had brought them here. "Wha…" Sweetie Belle began, only for the white cat to hold up a paw wreathed in a faint blue aura.

"Hush, child, and listen…" the white cat said telepathically, her tone motherly, calm… and sad. "Tonight… is a night that holds importance to those whose blood has fallen, to those who have been cast aside from Fantasian society, who have wandered from the afterlife for one night to see if their former living conditions have improved."

The Crusaders didn't know who the cat was or what she wanted, but decided to heed her words if she could just come here on a whim. They perked their ears, and heard the sound of wind whistling through the Aerie, despite the fact that the room they stood in was closed off for the time being. Voices came with that wind; whimpering, crying, mourning, and every other sorrowful pejorative that could name itself in their somewhat limited, young vocabulary could be heard. A few voices were cursing, screaming, howling in anger, and like the mournful ones faded as soon as they were heard.

"The damned are the dead, and should be resting. Yet tonight, they are restless," the black cat said telepathically, her voice a growling contralto that sounded somewhat hushed, almost… holding back anger. "By the same token… the righteous, the innocent amongst them, are equally as fitful. They should be heeded, and guided back home." When the children turned to them again, the black cat motioned to the door with her paw. "Behold the mournful procession, and help guide the dead back home." With that, the cats vanished in another flourish of ice and fire, light and dark, their words lingering in the children's minds.

Sweetie Belle nodded, and turned to the door with her friends. They trotted to it and opened it, unsure of what to expect. Not a word was exchanged between them, for they did not know what to say as the door came to a standstill in the middle of the hall.

The Crusaders looked in said hall, beholding a grim procession. Anna Windwood was trotting down the hall at a sedate pace, Sarah and Maria at her side, looking confused as they went with her. In her magical glow, she held two small bouquets, a blue and a pink, with each flower wilted and dead in the carefully-wrapped masses. Behind them trotted Pinkie Pie, mane and tail flat and holding a small basket in her mouth filled with six candles, a few cupcakes, and a box of matches. Every soldier in the vicinity watched them go, holding hats to their chests and eyes shining with an unmistakable sorrow in them.

Among the soldiers was Blue Crow and his group, frowns adorning their beaks. The Crusaders approached him, and he turned to them with a heavy sigh. He motioned for them to wait until the Lieutenant-General and her group were out of earshot before daring to speak. "... you know few, if any, visit the Graveyard of the Forgotten," he said. He turned to where Anna had tromped off. "... but every year, on a day that should have been special, she does…"

Red Barrel spoke next, head hanging low. "... before this year, she always did her visits alone. Spends the night there, too. She… she tries to make up for ignoring it the rest of the year…" A tear streaked her feathers, trailing a lonesome march down to her beak to hang at the edge of her upper mandible. "It still eats away at her… no matter what she does, she can't bury the pain tonight."

Apple Bloom knew right away what she was talking about. Yet, she couldn't muster the strength to speak. Her friends couldn't, either, and all of them were scarcely able to imagine the particular pain Anna was going through. It wasn't merely because they still had their formative years ahead of them yet, but rather… it was due to a painful lack of a particularly jaded perspective, gained only through horrific tragedy that their families and Equestria at large tried to keep them from even hearing about.

A tragedy that, quite sadly, seemed to be horrifically common on Fantasia, even if it played out in different forms.

Golden Chalice shook her head, looking to where her superior had gone. "They… they were born on the day she completed her healing," she said bitterly. "Part of why she… climbed the ranks so quickly, I would assume—to never be left in a position where she had no control…"

Rose Windmill had her eyes closed and her hat clutched particularly tightly. She didn't speak, only shook her head bitterly for a moment before swallowing. "I… was supposed to adopt 'em out," she muttered, her raised claw shaking. "Supposed to give 'em a good home… but they didn't come out alive…" Her claw started forming indents in her hat. "Something… something went wrong during the birth… like… like they got stuck and died before they were pulled out…"

Apple Bloom turned to where Anna had gone, eyes glistening. "... and she can't let go," she surmised. Out of the corner of her eye, Blue Crow nodded somberly.

"Do… do you think Godcat took them away?" Sweetie asked, struggling to envision a scenario where a cruel goddess had cast the innocent down to Tartarus for torment.

"Godcat was sealed when they died… so I couldn't tell you," Red Barrel replied, keeping her beak low.

Scootaloo narrowed her eyes. "Who did it to her?!" she yelled, turning to the wingless quartet with anger flashing across her irises. "Do you know who hurt her?!"

Blue Crow shook his head. "Unfortunately, we do not… and we may never know. The most we can say is Greenwood had something to do with it," he replied. He lifted a single digit off of his hat and used it to point to where Anna had gone. "If you wish to see the procession in full, follow the wilted petals. She always takes a specific path each time, so it shouldn't be hard to miss."

Apple Bloom nodded, and moved to start following the trail. A few petals had drifted down, and they crunched under her hooves like tiny autumn leaves that left a sickening pit in her stomach. Her friends followed her, determined to get answers, and their source had already gotten a head start on them. They trotted on, slowly enough to avoid halting their quarry, but fast enough to keep pace with her slowed gait. A few soldiers quietly wept as they trotted past, being comforted by a stray hoof or tightly-gripping claw, which only caused the pit in the trio's stomachs to both widen and deepen as they heard the hushed crying.

They came upon two halls, and found the left one blocked off by a wall of soldiers. They took the one on the right, more withered petals crunching beneath their hooves as they trotted. Apple Bloom glanced at her friends. "I don't think… we can take pictures of the graves," she said sternly. "If'n Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon find out about this, they'll just make fun of Anna."

Scootaloo nodded, swallowing a lump. While foals bullying adults was unheard of where they came from, it was still a possibility that their arch-enemies might strike the low blow to end all low blows if word of this ever got out in Equestria. Furthermore, it wasn't a matter of sparing both parties the embarrassment, but rather keeping one party alive so the other wouldn't get in trouble if they ever came to loggerheads. Sweetie nodded as well, and onwards they marched, eyes forming budding tears that they held in even as their stomachs threatened a revolt.

Rounding a corner, they saw that the procession briefly halted. A little changeling grub had nuzzled in Anna's mane, and it wasn't hissing, but rather, trilling as it shed tears. A soldier strode forward to lift the grub out of her hair, and pulled back to the protestations of the little one, who waved its tiny legs at Anna and sniffled. She patted the grub gently with a claw, then moved onwards with her group. They couldn't see her face through her mane when she had turned to pat the little changeling, but did see the tight frown adorning her muzzle in the few seconds that she had stopped.

They followed, halting briefly as the group boarded a lift up ahead. Anna turned to the three and jerked her head in the lift, and hesitantly, the trio trotted forward to cram themselves inside. It was a bit of a tight space, but the adults were willing to compensate for that by standing on their hinds to make it manageable.

Silence reigned as the lift doors closed, and the lift shook to start its descent. Apple Bloom looked up, trying to gauge Anna's expression, but she kept her gaze pointed towards the doors, her face almost shadowed by her hair. She wasn't the only one looking towards the Lieutenant-General; Sarah turned to her sister as well, frowning as she, too, tried to get a read on her emotions.

In fact, the silence continued to reign after the lift hit the bottom floor, and opened its doors to let them stride into a shapeshifting part of the mountain, again lined by soldiers regarding them with pity and sorrow. Anna took the lead, striding out on her hinds at first before reverting to all fours once her legs had the room to do so. Pinkie, Sarah, and Maria flanked her, followed by the Crusaders, who couldn't help but notice the lack of illuminating moss in this part of the mountain. Crystals didn't stud the place either, leaving only the flickering array of lights produced by the soldiers' horns to guide the way forward.

Gradually, as they made their way through the tunnels, the lines of soldiers thinned, at first with only a few gaps across every couple of heads before it widened. Through the winding tunnels, down into the mountain, the procession went, trailing withered petals in its solemn path, the ranks continuing to thin out until the only lights to be seen were the ones stationed at the ends of lengthy tunnels, seeming to dim as they approached.

Minutes passed through the march, but it felt like hours, then days, and then weeks as they made the trek through the mountain, boarding lifts and following the lights that marked their path. The Crusaders weren't sure how long it lasted, and were unwilling to speak, even as they came upon the soldiers who had sunk airships with their loose lips, blocking the way forward. They saw their superior, then stepped aside to let her pass, wordlessly taking out papers to document her passing. They halted the children, however, and frowned. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" the gold soldier asked.

"Well… Anna invited us to come with her," Apple Bloom replied. "And… we don't know why."

The soldiers shared glances, then sighed. "Well… you sure you want to see the Graveyard of the Forgotten?" they asked in unison. Upon receiving nods, they parted to let the children pass, documenting their visit as they did so.

A winding path led them downwards, from the top of a massive room that was twice the size of the factory and almost pitch-black otherwise. The path stayed to the edges of the room, somewhat narrow, but not narrow enough to force them to walk single file, adorned with torches lit with eerily pale blue flames. The ceiling looked to be made of the same shapeshifting stone as much of the hive, and yet for some reason, it lacked holes in its rocky surface. It lacked moss as well, preferring darkness over light. Anna halted again, and turned to the children behind her. Her face was difficult to read through her mane. "You can… you can halt here if you want," she said.

Sweetie Belle shook her head. "No. We… we want to see the Lonesome March in full," she replied. "It's… important; not a holiday, but important."

Scootaloo stomped a hoof. "We want to make sure the dead here really are resting," she agreed, her voice tight. "A pair… a pair of floating cats told us to watch, and I don't want to know what happens if we don't obey their command."

Apple Bloom's bow wilted alongside her ears. "Even… even the forgotten deserve friends," she said bitterly. "Even if'n they're gone… they need to know somepony cares. They need to know that… their… their awful circumstances won't ever happen again."

Anna nodded, and turned away to resume the March. Down the winding, silent path the procession went, and as petals crunched under their hooves again, the Crusaders looked to the bottom of the room, though it was kinda hard to see from that high up. The most they could make out were dim lights swimming in a sea of darkness, so they had no choice but to see the path through if they were to see what lay at its end. Behind them, barely noticed by the three, the torches snuffed themselves out to plunge the winding trail in darkness.

"Mommy? Why are the torches going out?" Maria asked.

"... they do this every year. That means the Lonesome March is almost over," Anna answered as they came to the bottom of the winding path, the last torch marking the trail snuffing itself out with the group's passing. "We better hurry…"

Beneath the winding path was a desolate place, marked by tunnels at the far ends of the walls and many graves, all spread out across plots of land and a few square miles to themselves. Each was topped by an impossibly smooth statue of a once-living creature, having been crafted of stone and all looking to the rocky ceiling blocking the sky. Tears trailed from the eyes of almost every statue, and almost all of them had been marked with a solemn, glowing halo hewn of moss on their heads. Many had broken horns, others had broken wings, a few sat down on their haunches because their front legs didn't work right anymore, and so on. Each face screamed to the uncaring heavens, twisted in sorrow and rage, with the urns of the deceased beset into the statues' bases and marked with simple plaques if their bodies had been recovered.

The first one they passed featured a young child about their age, a cutie mark carved into his haunch and marked with a blood red X scoring its surface, and a plaque bearing the words, "Unknown colt, body never found, killed during Catastrophe." The second featured a filly, holding the tattered remains of a stuffed friend in her forelegs, equally as forlorn. "Unknown filly and her plush friend, bodies never found, killed during Catastrophe," her plaque read.

"How are the statues so smooth? Don't you have to sand them down real good?" Apple Bloom asked.

"The Graveyard of the Forgotten… it has a special magic that imprints itself on those who were here, then makes new graves for the fallen using their memories, without aid… and the stone is always this smooth when it finishes," Anna answered with a tight voice. "For all we know… it could be imprinting into your memories right now, and… we wouldn't know until next week, potentially…"

Apple Bloom winced. "You mean…" she trailed off.

Anna nodded but once. "Though, it might not," she said. "As far as we know… it only does this for ponies few even know the existence of, and care about…"

Apple Bloom dared not breathe a sigh of relief at that. If the Graveyard was magical, then maybe it was best to get the Lonesome March over with as soon as possible. The Lieutenant-General seemed to agree, and began to trot.

Through the desolate place, Anna marched, the bouquets holding few petals at this point. She passed by statues of cruel adults holding knives in their mouths, their flanks mutilated and burned, each with wicked sneers on their faces. Instead of halos, and tears framing their eyes, they had dried, dead moss spattered on their faces, hooves and weapons, reminiscent of blood. "Cruel adult stallion, body never found, killed during Catastrophe," their plaques read. As they passed, the Crusaders couldn't help but think that the statues of the markless adults were glaring at them.

Each statue they passed, they couldn't help but think of the lives these ponies could have lead, if things had been different on Fantasia—lives full of joy never lived, talents never discovered, friends never made, happiness never endured, all because ponies on this world hated cutie marks outside of areas like the Aerie. All because whatever malcontents of the past wanted to damn the present, for some sick measure of control that they didn't deserve. All because they wanted ponies to suffer for sins real and perceived, which might have been warranted long ago, but did not deserve to rest on their descendants' withers now.

Even the cruel adults, the ones with scarred flanks and blood on their faces and hooves, they quickly found themselves feeling sorry for, for they were those who never had a choice in the matter. They had probably been reared up to believe cutie marks were evil incarnate, and had the choice of destiny wrenched from their hooves, solidifying them into bloodthirsty adults who inflicted bloodshed and despair in order to make themselves feel better.

A cruel fate if they had ever dreamed of such.

A cruel fate they couldn't possibly dare to dream of, even in their worst nightmares.

They passed by a statue of a colt with a bow and arrow, his cutie mark defiled by a red X scored over its surface. His eyes were shut tight, fear etched permanently on his statue's face, and as the Crusaders looked, fresh tears poured from his eyes to drip silently onto the base of his grave. They looked around; each statue of a foal with an X-marked cutie mark had candles, plush friends, and moss decorating the bases of their graves, and mossy wings spread from their backsides that highlighted their pain and fear. Many of the adult graves had none of that, for their wicked expressions gave away whatever ill intent they had when they were on the mortal coil.

They came upon more statues, these ones of markless hippogryph foals, each adorned with still-lit candles and with the feathers plucked off of their hides. The first hippogryph's plaque read, "Unknown hippogryph chick, killed by Frostbite Haven village community, body never recovered." Anna had halted at that one, and Maria turned to the statue, her face twisting in sorrow as she approached.

Maria ran a claw against the base of the statue, eyes alit with… recognition and pain. "My first friend, in the bad place…" she muttered. "Taken away by bad hippogryphs…" She turned to Anna. "Is he up there with the creator cat, mommy?"

Anna turned away, and she didn't answer. Sarah opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and turned away. Maria's eyes glistened as she caught on to their lack of a reply. "But if they're not with the creator cat… are they with…" she trailed off, horror flashing in her eyes.

Anna shook her head. "No. They're… they're with Godcat," she said softly. "They're in a new world now, away from… away from here."

Maria's raised claw trembled. "Will… will they come back?" she asked.

"Not… not until things are better," Anna replied, her voice trembling. "If… if they even want to come back at all." She continued to march, and hesitantly, the others followed, with Maria casting one last look at her fallen friend before rejoining the group. Every statue of a hippogryph foal they passed had Maria turning to look at them, tears beginning to fall from her eyes as she found deceased friend after deceased friend, each face terrifyingly lifelike in what must have been their last moments spent on Fantasia.

Sweetie Belle looked at Maria, comprehension dawning. This was why she was accompanying Anna—to see her old friends one last time, even if their bodies weren't able to have been given funerary rights. Some part of her wanted to know the circumstances of how she came to the Aerie, but she held her tongue as Maria began to sniffle and whuffle. Losing one's friends didn't sound particularly peachy, and as she looked again to the crying statues, she saw more lives lost that could have been lived, could have obtained their talents, could have made more friends, could have lived to old age if adults outside of the few sane provinces of Fantasia had bothered to care.

There were statues of hippogryph mares, each one bereft of feathers as well, and likewise screaming to the uncaring heavens. Maria halted at a particular one that was joined with a hippogryph stallion, causing the group to halt as well. "Old mommy and daddy… are… are y-you with the creator cat?" Maria wondered, tears trailing down her face as she looked at the statues. Apple Bloom felt a knife stab itself into her soul at the words, and looked at the statues. For a moment it seemed, the statues looked down at them, pity seemingly sparkling in their eyes as they regarded those standing before their grave.

The statues failed to answer. Maria approached them and put a claw on the base of the joined graves. "I-I'm okay, old mommy and daddy… a-away from… from the meanies," Maria said, as if it could somehow placate the deceased hippogryphs the graves were meant for. Silence answered her once more, the only thing the statues could answer with. There was no closure to be had; nothing but pain trying to substitute itself for such.

The statues began to have tears trail down their faces once more, unable to move, but silently weeping. "I-I'm gonna fly one day… see you both in the s-sky again…" Maria said, wings drooping with the proclamation. "And… and if I-I can't…" A pair of candles levitated to the statues, not one from the bundles Pinkie was carrying, and came to rest on the statues' bases before a match struck the stone and lit their wicks.

"It's… to guide them back to the afterlife," Anna said simply. "Every year, on this night… the innocents who've died come here to visit. But they can only weep…." She trotted over to put a claw on Maria's shoulder. "They… they know you're okay."

Maria shakily nodded with a sniffle. "The creator cat knows?" she asked.

"She knows," Anna replied simply. "And… and She permits them to come, until sunrise…" She nudged her daughter. "But… you have to say g-goodbye before we leave the Graveyard."

"But… I want them to stay…" Maria said, frowning as she turned to her adoptive mother. "Why… why do I have to s-say goodbye?"

"... we don't want them to become wraiths," Anna answered, shaking her head. "Otherwise… they won't go b-back to Godcat at all."

Maria hiccuped, and looked at the statues again. "Will… will you watch me f-fly, old mommy and daddy?" she asked, only to once again be met with a cruel tranquility. "... please make it b-back to the creator cat s-safely, old mommy and daddy." The march resumed, and the Crusaders had lumps in their stomachs and throats as they followed the procession. Scootaloo glanced behind herself, and saw a gold light and two blue lights behind her group, lighting their own candles and placing them upon the bases of the cutie marked foals' statues. Distantly, she could hear Matt, Lazarus and Natalie say their own goodbyes to those foals, wishing them safe journeys back to the afterlife.

Past the statues of the hippogryphs were more ponies, a collection of earth and unicorn, albeit with their bodies twisted horribly by wood and vines, and stone trees anchored to their statues adorned with twisted mockeries of their faces. Like the hippogryphs and cruel adults, they too were blank flanks, and they had dried moss spattered across their bodies.

Anna halted at a particular one, of an elderly mare with long, twin braids adorning her head and tattered priestess garb adorning her body. She produced a candle, struck a match, and lit the wick before setting it on the statue's base. "Lana… she was one of the only kind elders of Greenwood… she and her still-living brother got me out of that community…" she muttered, raising a claw to rest it against the statue's base.

"... then why's she here?" Scootaloo asked.

"... she asked that her name be forgotten, as was the fate of those who died in Greenwood, knowing she'd be killed for smuggling me out," Anna replied, shaking her head. "... it didn't feel right that she went graveless… so, she's here…" She looked up to Lana's stone face, recognition shining in her glistening eyes. "... and… she was a good pony. Good ponies… deserve graves."

'She was Anna's friend,' the Crusaders realized. They looked up to Lana's crying visage, and once more, she seemed to be glancing downwards, twisted as her face was by pain. Greenwood even casted aside those who would help the unfortunate flee their situations? "Wh… what happened to her?" Apple Bloom asked quietly.

"... I hid in the bushes and watched her be… be forcibly transformed by the other elderly villagers. She became a cursed tree, and… never once did she raise a hoof against them as they tore her apart. I ran… and later found her rooted in Ashwood that night. She urged me… urged me to go… and I had no choice but to leave her. She… had enough equinity left… to try to warn Sh-Shining Armor away from Greenwood when he came to visit that cursed place, and… she… she perished in the catastrophe that followed," Anna said quietly.

"Shining told me… and… and he asked if… if I…" She looked away from Lana's face, hiccuping as she collected her thoughts. "If… I knew about h-her in particular…" A vine sprouted from the moss halo and traced its way downwards, snaking down Lana's neck, her hooves, then to the base of the grave to touch Anna's claw.

Anna nuzzled the vine, tears streaking down her muzzle to land upon the leaves. "She… didn't deserve to die like she did…" she muttered, her voice wracked with sorrow. "She… got Sarah out three y-years before me, and…"

Sarah came over to touch the grave, letting her claw gently graze Lana's vine. She looked up at the stone face and weakly smiled. "Thank you… for helping us both out. If it weren't for you… we wouldn't have broken the curse over Greenwood," she said, even as tears trailed down her cheeks.

"Goodbye, Lana…" the twins said in unison, parting from the grave. The vine did a little wave, then withered and died, falling out of the moss halo as it peeled off of the statue. It… it felt like a presence had left the statue, as the tears on Lana's stone face dried inexplicably. The march resumed once more, the Crusaders beginning to sniffle as they now understood why the changelings avoided this place in full. These… these weren't merely the castoffs of Fantasian society; save for the cruel adults, many of these graves were creatures that the military could safely say they knew on some level. This wasn't just keeping the memories of the forgotten alive—for even the forgotten had an awful lot to say about Fantasia.

No. This was ensuring that the forgotten did not come back as wraiths. This was making absolutely certain that these gathered fallen had some hope in the afterlife, in whatever world they now resided on.

This… was ensuring a safe journey back to that world. And the more they dwelled on that thought, the tighter the lump grew in the trio's stomachs and throats.

Up ahead, the trio saw Lance standing before a pair of chest-height, joined statuettes, his back turned to the group and his military uniform decidedly not on his body. He was putting plush friends on the graves, and little knitted hats on their heads that didn't obscure their tiny halos. Anna joined him, lit the candles, and put them on the graves along with the withered bouquets. "... happy birthday, Sage and Saffron," Anna said, bringing a claw to rest on the statuettes. "I'm… I'm sorry I wasn't a better mother to you… but… I hope Godcat gives you the life I wasn't able to give you up there."

"Those bastards of Greenwood… they…?!" Sarah began, comprehension dawning as her eyes darted from the statuettes, to her sister, and back again.

Anna nodded somberly. "Twice… the first time was a miscarriage," she answered simply. "I never made it past five months into that pregnancy."

Sarah clenched her claws, then relaxed them as she drew in a deep, shuddering breath and briefly closed her eyes. "... at least they can't hurt anyone anymore," she said, garnering a nod of agreement from her sister. She approached the statuettes, and put a claw to them, looking at the tiny faces with the little hats. Rather than scream to the sky, their expressions were… peaceful, as though they had never been introduced to the mere concept of pain. Blissfully sleeping, even, despite their seeming awareness. "... hey," she said, leaning in to nuzzle the statuettes. "I guess this is the first time we've met… I wish it was under better circumstances. You two… you're kinda cute."

Sarah pulled away, sighing sadly. "... you know, Fantasia's not good enough for both of you right now. You should head back to Godcat…" she muttered. "But before you do…" She turned to Maria, and beckoned her over. "Say hello to your big sister."

Maria came over, and reared up on her hooves so she could see the statuettes in full. "... h-hi," Maria said, wings wilting as she regarded the little ones. "D-do… do you like the creator cat? Is She nice to you?"

"Godcat… is nice to all children who wind up in Her domain," Lance said gently. "Feline, pony, hippogryph… race doesn't matter in Her house. She raises them all with love and care." He turned to the little ones. "... but… it's nice to see you two visit, even if only for a little bit."

Pinkie strode forward, and put the cupcakes on the graves. "I… I hope you guys like these," she said, nudging the cupcakes to the statuettes. The candles floated off of the graves for a bit, aided by Anna's magic, and were studded into the frosting. " I didn't know what flavor you would've liked, so I… I went for a mixed swirl. You have surprises in there, too. Every foal should have sweets and surprises… on their birthday." With that, she stepped away to let the Fantasians finish paying their respects.

"Goodbye…" the four Fantasians said in unison, parting from the statuettes. Tears streaked the tiny stone faces before drying, accompanied by the distant, echoing sound of infants giggling. As their presence left, the candles that had adorned their graves—birthday candles, the Crusaders realized—blew out, and their wishes wafted up to the ceiling in the form of the smoke left behind to guide them back home. The cupcakes had moss overtake them for a bit, before the moss parted to reveal they were no longer there. The moss did the same with the hats and plush friends, almost… almost as though Godcat had permitted the gifts to come to the afterlife with them.

Anna turned to the Crusaders, trotted to them, and scooped them into another hug that they reciprocated. They whuffled in unison, wondering what lives could have been lived by these ponies, had circumstances not been as horrid as they were. Hoofsteps approached, and the four parted to find Matt and his small group, each with fresh tears adorning their own faces. "We… we said our goodbyes…" Matt said quietly. "... they took their plush friends with them."

He glanced upwards at the ceiling, and it opened holes that went all the way to the ground outside, spilling moonlight into the cemetery and allowing the smoke from burnt-out candles to guide the dead back to the afterlife. With a flourish, he, Natalie, and Lazarus lit their horns to send lights up to the ceiling along with the wafting smoke. Anna followed in turn, and together the lights guided the leaving presences as the moonlight slowly turned from silver to orange, indicating a sunrise.

When their lights dimmed as the orange fully overtook the silver, silence settled in the Graveyard of the Forgotten, leaving those who had deigned fit to pay their respects alone with their own thoughts. As soon as the last bits of smoke left the Graveyard, the holes that had allowed their parting closed, plunging the area into darkness, studded by the dim lights of moss halos and moss wings. Anna lit her horn, and teleported the entire group back to the guest rooms. The soldiers had dispersed, heading back to their bunkers and posts, leaving them alone.

A door opened a few paces away, and Applejack strode out. She looked like she had spent the night crying, with red, puffy eyes and a tired face. She pulled Apple Bloom into a hug. "Ma and Pa… they left just a lil' bit ago," she said. "Asked how ya were doin'..."

Apple Bloom whuffled. "Wha… what did they say?" she asked.

"Wanted to know if ya got yer cutie mark yet… I told 'em the truth. And… before they left, told me to tell ya they're mighty proud… and they love you," Applejack replied, ruffling her sister's mane as she broke down sobbing. She held her younger sister tightly, trying not to cry anymore for her sake, only to shed a few tears with her effort. Apple Bloom was hugged by her best friends, each of them also breaking down crying as pain they couldn't possibly imagine lingered in their hearts and minds, trying to seek whatever comfort they could.

Pinkie turned to Anna as Applejack shepherded the Crusaders to bed. "... at least the foals didn't suffer from pain," she said quietly, garnering a weak and silent nod in response. "It's… it's better they're with Godcat than here, suffering. At least Godcat will give them the love they deserve."

"I'm not sure I could live with myself if they had been suffering…" Anna muttered, sniffling. Pinkie put a hoof to her withers, and pulled her into a hug.

"... help me babysit the Cake twins once the barrier business is over?" Pinkie offered. "It… might help." Anna weakly nodded again, and reciprocated the hug, before she too broke down crying and buried her head in Pinkie's neck. It was a while before she and her group were escorted to bed themselves, and it would be relatively late in the morning before anyone got up for breakfast.

Seventh Day, Morning—List of Inedibles

That morning, practically everyone woke up late, and had to knock the dust out of the corners of their eyes when they went to wash their faces. At the table, everyone ate at a sedate pace, particularly Apple Bloom and Applejack, who did more picking at their food than actually eating it until they were nudged. Even the wraithling was eating more slowly than usual, and it was less savoring the food and more gauging the mood of the mess hall. Anna sat with them, as well as Maria, who was likewise being nudged to eat. As they ate, the trio described to her the floating cats they had seen the night prior, and her brow had furrowed in contemplation.

Anna patiently waited until everyone had finished eating before daring to speak. "So… Godcat literally commanded you three to… behold the March last night?" she asked.

The trio jerked up. "Wait, those floating cats were—" Sweetie began, eyes widening.

"Well, yes… both halves of Her, anyway," Anna replied, sighing. "She's… been watching Fantasia a little more closely than usual, it seems."

The trio shared glances, bewilderment taking hold. Godcat Herself paid them a visit last night? That made them wonder what She must have seen in them to warrant such a rare occurrence. They turned to Anna and allowed themselves to relax; at least they hadn't been smited by divine fury, so maybe they were still in Her favor? "So… Godcat's taken an interest in the Aerie?" Sweetie managed.

Anna weighed the question, then shrugged. "Kinda has, ever since we bested Her in combat," she answered, using a claw to gesture to herself, then to Lance, Matt, NoLegs, and Natalie as she said that. "And sometimes… I get the feeling we're not moving fast enough for Her liking, in regards to finding out what happened with the barrier."

"Which means y'all gotta get a move on, or else y'all might get smited," Apple Bloom said unhappily, her bow wilting with the statement.

"Yeah, but… there's been less smiting lately, if you catch my drift," Anna said, sighing. She conjured a sheet of paper and began looking it over, before taking a quill and some ink out of the ether and scribbling some things onto that parchment.

"What's that?" Scootaloo asked, tilting her head.

"Well… Natz asked me to make a copy of the list of inedibles I keep in case we go on adventures, on hoof, of what not to eat or touch. She said you guys wanted it for your report, so I'm just double-checking quickly and making… alterations before I hoof over the copy," Anna answered, wilting a little. Even the vines on her legs sagged and shriveled slightly, as if waiting to grow mouths solely so they could scream to the uncaring heavens. "Before I came along, those three were practically having mushroom sambas every other instance they went on hoof to journey across the lands."

"... what's a mushroom samba?" Sweetie Belle asked, a brow raised.

"You get stoned off your ass," Katie proffered. "I should know—before I came to the army, and after I regained my sanity, I tried some rainbow-colored mushrooms in a jungle, to see if I could get my appetite back. Next thing I know, I'm having visions of a long-maned pegasus mare with blades in place of her primary feathers."

"Ah, yes, rainbow-colored mushrooms… that's on the do-not-eat list…" Anna muttered, shaking her head. "And believe it or not, Katie's first dose of shared love, during our little trip to Equestria, pretty much yielded the same effect—she was so drugged she couldn't tell what directions the polka dots went anymore."

The Crusaders frowned. "That can happen to changelings?" they asked in unison.

"Only if they went without love for long enough to effectively have a collection of tales under their belt. That is to say, if they survived that lack of vital nutrients somehow," Anna answered with another shrug as she continued to edit the list of inedibles. "Of course, you… don't get many changelings who can say they've survived that lack of vital nutrients, for obvious reasons." She tipped the quill's feathery tip at the wraithling for emphasis.

"Changelings can share love?" Scootaloo asked, wings buzzing at the thought.

"Yes, and it's prevalent here, just… mostly kept behind closed doors, alongside… certain activities you shouldn't know about at your age," Anna replied, her gaze flicking to Maria for a moment. "Though, sometimes sharing love is basically giving your excess to the sick, the elderly, and the young who haven't gotten down the feeding part yet… and somehow, one of us here qualifies for all three simultaneously."

"Hey, at least you don't look like you went through a magitek blender," Katie quipped, garnering a roll of the eyes from her superior in the process.

"And you don't look like you're infested with parasites," Anna quipped back, garnering some weak laughter from them both.

"Wait, wraiths can have parasites?" Apple Bloom asked.

"Depends on the type, and the element they wield," Anna answered. "The wraith-alicorn Matt and Natz told me about… well, he had bugs crawling in him, supposedly. Then again, coming back in such a state must not have been pleasant for him." That got disgusted expressions from the three, who stuck their tongues out at the thought. "Then there's the cursed trees, which are basically their own ecosystems…" She shuddered. "Had the bad luck to almost become one a few times myself…"

"... and cursed trees have their equinity, right?" Scootaloo hedged.

"For a few years, until the pain from their horrific transformations more or less drives them insane and the geases put on those unfortunate souls forces them to follow the same village mantra that damned them to begin with. And as an added bonus, the transformation triggers only when death is about to knock on your door, or if you otherwise get your cutie mark and it happens to have something primarily wooden in it, so…" Anna shuddered again. "For another thing, the transformation can even alter cutie marks as they manifest, and I got to learn that the hard way." The wood on her legs rustled briefly. "It is not pleasant, and I am glad the Elements of Harmony turned my case into something that won't bring ruin and despair to my body anymore."

"Lana was lucky," the Crusaders didn't hear Anna say. And that in itself was a tragic thought; the poor ponies who wound up becoming trees must've had their own thoughts and dreams at one point, only to have that cruelly ripped away from them until they more or less became wooden automatons. Furthermore, the Lieutenant-General sounded like she barely got out of that same mess by the skin of her teeth—which made her existence as a timberpony all the more perplexing in the end. The more they heard about Greenwood, the worse their mental image of that village became—in a way, not unlike what they heard about the nobility back home, if for completely different reasons.

Poor mare probably wouldn't get to stand in front of said nobles of Canterlot again without them verbally tearing her to pieces over the wood adorning her body. They started wondering if diplomacy had to be a pain in the posterior, or if certain individuals were dead set on making it such a hurdle to begin with.

"Of course, then you have cases like Sarah, whose curse didn't trigger when she got her mark. I'm going to guess it was because she wasn't within a thousand miles of Greenwood for that to have happened, and that her mark had metal in it due to being a halberd," Anna said with a shrug of her shoulders, as she reached the bottom of the list of inedibles. "She did tell me she earned her cutie mark in Fenrir's proximity, so maybe he had something to do with it."

"Wait, they got her too?" Scootaloo asked.

Anna grimly nodded. "The less said, the better," she replied firmly. "In fact, pretty much all the surviving adults of Greenwood had it too, but nowhere near as bad as I did… largely because unlike me, they complied with the geas."

"And what did the geas make you do?" Sweetie pressed.

"Forced me to be quiet about everything going on in Greenwood, lest the curse trigger prematurely," Anna answered uneasily, wilting with her reply as she added the finishing touches on the list of inedibles. "And also made me… perform certain activities which I am not going to taint your ears with, and boosted my fertility for those who… shared a room with me, shall we say, back when the elders were strangling me every other night to see if they could make the curse trigger… for no other reason than their amusement." She put the paper on the table and regarded the trio with a haunted look in her eyes and a firm frown, basically silently telling them to 'not repeat to anyone else what they had just heard.'

"And also, they instilled self-loathing in me, and tried to make me adopt their racist views. If you want to know why they boosted my fertility… euch," she said with a shudder, her expression twisting in disgust. "Well… have you three heard of eugenics?"

"Where one group of ponies, or one species, is claimed to be superior to the others, and made to make more babies than those considered worse than them to improve sapientkind overall?" Sweetie proffered, shuddering as she was seeing where this discussion was going—namely, another drunken rant from her sister when all was said and done. "The three tribes tried that before Equestria's founding, and it didn't go over too well."

Anna nodded. "Exactly. And just like the three tribes, Greenwood's practice of eugenics… left much to be desired. They… tried breeding the gryphon out of me, to make an honest mare out of me…" The disgust in her words was palpable enough that it made her wooden claws curl upwards and almost into themselves with a sickening series of gnarly crunches, before they twisted back to their standard formation with the wood fusing seamlessly once more. "Truthfully, I'm glad the elders are dead now—even if I am stuck helping the other villagers learn that what they touted was unacceptable."

"Euch. Sounds just like what that nasty foalsitter told me would happen, even if I started paying attention to her so-called lessons…" Sweetie Belle groused, her face twisting in disgust over the entire topic of discussion. "Why are there ponies still like that? And is that way of thinking illegal here?"

"The way of thinking… well, truth be told, anyone we find spouting that nonsense, we just geld on the spot. Then we tie them to trees, and let the wildlife pick and choose what parts of them are getting removed," Anna muttered, shaking her head. "As for why there's sapients still sporting said way of thinking… most I can chalk it up to is their entire family trees are family cacti."

"Every pony in a family cacti is a bad pony?" Maria guessed, looking up at her mother.

"Cactus," Anna corrected, lifting a claw to pat her child on the head. "And yes." She regarded the list of inedibles, and magically lifted it in the air before it glowed in a bright green light that split in two. When the lights faded, there were two sheets of paper, one of which floated over to the Crusaders for them to use as they saw fit. "Handy duplication spell, which I use in conjunction with a bottomless quiver spell so my arrows never run out. Not so taxing on resources, and I never have to worry about running back to the base before jumping back into battle during heated fights."

The Crusaders whistled in unison, and turned to behold the list of inedibles. There were various names for plants they hadn't known existed, each with a short, concise description of what particular plant had which particular effect when ingested, further accompanied by scribbled, simplistic drawings with splashes of color to show what they looked like. Amusingly, at the very top of the list, were the rainbow-colored mushrooms that had been mentioned earlier, with a drawing of a hoof next to it to show its height. It came complete with an explanation reading: "makes the ingester see sounds and hear colors for twenty-four hours after consumption, and sometimes undergo weird visions."

Next were an item labeled as Seeds of Blight, featuring a smoking seed puffing out red-green discharge—kind of like what they had seen impacting the wraithling's head whenever she spoke out of turn. Their effect made the Crusaders shudder: "afflicts ingester with Greenwood Blight, and is the core for the Greenwood Geas, used for turning ponies into cursed trees. If not consumed in ten seconds after forming, or stuffed into an open wound, it disappears in smoke. Produced by ponies afflicted with Greenwood Blight."

The trio glanced at Anna, worry creasing their brows. She could make the Seeds of Blight? Anna sighed and nodded, figuring there was no getting out of this one. "No, I have not seeded anyone on purpose. At least… anyone that can be considered living in the truest sense of the word," she said, shaking her head. "Most I have done is remove an… accidental seeding that occurred during the manifestation of my cutie mark, which… turned the entire room I was in into a greenhouse in the process."

"Did the old alicorn of Greenwood know about this?" Apple Bloom asked, only to wilt as Anna nodded.

"He… was the first to be afflicted with the Blight, long ago. He's how Ashwood came to be, before it burned down in Ragnarok and a wildfire—Ashwood was made up almost entirely of cursed trees, made of innumerable previous generations of past villagers," Anna said grimly, shaking her head. "And my geas would go on the fritz every time we even approached the area… that is, until Lance found the active spell circle keeping it going, and unknowingly broke it." It was her turn to wilt again. "It was… powered by my flute, Sarah's harp, and… our missing body parts."

… Greenwood—or at least, the area surrounding it—had warranted Ragnarok. That sounded as if it could not get any worse at this rate. The Crusaders shuddered, struggling to envision what lead to that thought process which spiraled into apocalyptic spell usage. "So… how complex is a geas?" Scootaloo asked, wings buzzing with the question. "I mean, a flute, missing body parts…" She looked pointedly at the wood on Anna's legs. "Like… all that effort, just to control one pony?"

Anna nodded. "Yeah, all that effort. Geases are… considerably complex. You gotta carve the right runes in the right places, make a spell circle, either use missing body parts and sentimental items to power it for extra security and as a catalyst, or you can just brute force it with raw magical power… and in the end, it can still backfire. Just one little piece of it gets broken, and the whole thing comes apart like a house of cards."

Anna pantomimed a house of cards falling, through plucking off an invisible card on the bottom row. She continued, "And after that, whatever kinds of geases you carved into that pony cease to work completely, and cannot be used on that individual ever again. Sarah and I… we can't be made silent again. We can't be made to have boosted fertility anymore. We can't be made to bend over backwards to please cruel elders who just want to watch us suffer."

She gestured to Lance. "He… can't be made to act like a wannabe tyrannical lunatic anymore, either. Nor can those who geased him make him do… whatever else it is they wanted to do." Anna shrugged. "And trust me, when I heard about it directly from him, even I thought it was stupid with what they were trying to make him do." She looked at the trio evenly again. "Again, eugenics. That is all."

"... has Fantasia learned nothing from what happens when you try to practice eugenics?" Sweetie Belle asked, incredulous over the fact that the conversation had derailed so much, eugenics was becoming a recurrent theme.

Anna shook her head once more, then affected a dopey expression of mock cheer and raised her front claws to wave them sarcastically. "Nope! Our history is nil, and apparently, we peasants only deserve to know the commands of our so-called betters and nothing else!" she said, before sticking her tongue out and making a face as she dropped her claws. "Eugh, can't even sound convincing when I put it like that… no wonder I have trouble sleeping at night…" she grumbled. Welp, that ruled out naptime for this Lieutenant. Maybe they should get her sleeping meds… but what kind of such products existed on Fantasia?

The Crusaders consulted the list of inedibles and death once more, and ironically found a plant called wet nightmares—an innocuous mushroom with a very vividly pink color scheme on both cap and stalk, with the effect as follows: "knocks out ingester for 72 hours, and makes them have weird hybrids between good dreams and nightmares regarding ponies they have a romantic interest into, or random ponies if romantic interests are not present." Sweetie looked up at Anna and gestured to the plant.

Anna… wilted. "Believe it or not, after the Godcat incident, I was the one to try that plant. I couldn't look at my cohorts for a week after," she said bluntly. "I don't know why the plant chose them, but at the time… and it still holds true today, I do not have a romantic interest in them."

Katie slammed her hoof on the table, and barked out a laugh—the first genuine laugh of the day at that. "Y-y-you say that, and yet that night I spent in th-the tank, I heard everything!" she said, only to get a Seed of Blight right to the schnoz in response, which bounced up in the air and landed spinning on the bridge of her muzzle, where it popped as she regarded it cross-eyed.

"Your mouth. Shut it," Anna commanded curtly, a hoof outstretched and the wood attached to it forming another seed from a weird, pink flower growing in her frog. Katie merely leered at her, and the flower retracted into the wood along with the seed. She turned to the Crusaders and added, "You know the drill by now." At their nod, she let herself relax.

The trio sighed and turned back to the list of despair and desecration, when… something weird happened. A villager from Greenwood strutted up to the table, roughly around Anna's age, and wrapped his leg around her neck like they were the bestest of buddies. Then that villager let go, lit his horn, and magically lifted one of Anna's forelegs just to clasp his hoof around the wood. "Aw come on, you can't be thinking about silly things like that—at your age, you should be getting married," the oblivious bastard said, before Anna wrenched her claw away from him and turned to glare at him.

"Oh, for the love of…" Anna grumbled, briefly turning to the children once more. She magically lifted the villager over her head. "I'll be right back." She moved to stand and trot away with the villager, causing Maria to watch her go.

"Why does he want you to get married, mommy?" Maria called, causing Anna to halt.

"He thinks I need a big, strong stallion to guide me around like a cow with a nose ring," Anna replied. "I'm going to set him straight."

"I'm just trying to help," the villager said, as the soldiers moved to pick up some of the tables wholesale and scoot them to clear a hole for the imminent thrashing the bastard was about to receive. As soon as they cleared the hole, the villager was plopped in the middle of it, and made to sit.

Anna clenched her claws for a moment, and shook them before forcing herself to relax. "You just don't seem to get it," she hissed, an eye twitching. "You were around my age when the elders found out about my existence, I would assume?" At the villager's nod, she moved over to deliver onto him a firm backhoof to the face that sent him sprawling onto the floor. "Which means you're perfectly, acutely aware of what those elders did, since the entire Godcat-damned town saw those idiots parade me around every other day!"

"Parade you… what the…" Apple Bloom trailed off, trying desperately to grasp what Anna had meant by that.

"Showed her off to the community like a prize pig, while punishing her, I would assume," Katie proffered, shaking her head at the thought. "And by 'prize pig,' I mean 'village outcast.'"

"Oh," the trio said in unison, eyes still glued to the exchange.

"But… we didn't know any better, because the elders said it was for the greater good," the villager said, only to be magically yanked in the air by his tail, with his hooves dangling as he was brought to Anna's eye level.

"Sure you didn't, because nopony bothered to expand their damn horizons beyond the village gates," Anna hissed, glaring into his eyes and soul with her own. "If you want to learn why I am not yet married, look no further than those who taught you that my birth would bring the end of the worlds or something." With that, she dropped him and marched back to the table, her face a portrait of rage as she made to sit back down.

As soon as she parked, she slammed her face into the table, but not before moving the empty tray aside first. "Bastards, the whole lot of 'em…" she grumbled into the table.

The Crusaders took their minds off of the altercation and decided to ask Anna a question that had her jerking her head back up the instant it left Sweetie's mouth, "So… I've noticed you don't really have names based on your cutie marks. Why is that?"

"Well…" Anna rubbed the back of her head with a claw. "In my case, my full, legal name was given to me by my dad when I was born, and the same goes for Sarah. Lance… he chose his own name, because his folks didn't name him at all. Matt and Natalie, their first names were parent-given, and Natalie was adopted as a baby and therefore technically nameless before she was found, and their surnames, they gave to themselves once they stopped freaking out about their cutie marks. Lazarus… I'd have to ask, because I truthfully don't know squat about him."

"Natalie was a foundling?" Apple Bloom asked.

Anna nodded. "And you know how mares… nurse, right?" she asked. At the trio's nods, she elaborated a little further, "Well, Natalie was still in her 'I need milkies' phase, and her adoptive mother had just weaned Matt, so… she found herself nursing for a little longer than she expected, when a foray into the woods of the town she was staying at had her hear a baby crying and going off to investigate." She sighed, and decided to get back to the current main topic, "But why were you asking about our naming conventions?"

"Well… I was asking, because I heard about a phenomenon in Equestria, where a mare in labor has… well, I heard it was like glimpsing into the future of their foals as they come out, and then choosing their names based on that. Does that happen on Fantasia?" Sweetie asked, only for Anna to wilt again.

"It… happened to me when I went into labor… but all I saw was darkness, and cold," Anna answered, sighing. "Nothing past that. Mom always told me she had the glimpses too, but those didn't affect her and dad's naming of me and my sister." She shuddered. "But she said… days before the gryphons struck the village, she had seen me bringing forth catastrophe alongside five figures that were somewhat blurry in her vision." She seemed to sink into her seat. "And… through burning down Greenwood, I technically did… bring catastrophe."

Oh. Sweetie's ears fell flat against her head. "Did… did I strike a nerve?" she asked tentatively.

Anna shook her head. "No, just… remembering all of that… and some of which I did with my own two front hooves… it's unpleasant," she muttered, shuddering at the memory. "But because of the Royale Hall of Brawls and its cutie-mark-extermination issues, practically nopony's dared to name their foals after their potential talents for ages now."

"Royale Hall of Brawls?" Scootaloo asked.

"The site of the Royale Catastrophe, before it was destroyed," Anna elaborated. "And yes… every time I've heard the name, I thought it was stupid."

The Crusaders traded looks, then turned back to Anna again. "Did Natalie's adoptive mom have the visions when she was found?" Scootaloo asked.

"I think she might have, but I'd need to double-check. Natalie was practically a newborn at the time, so maybe?" Anna muttered with a shrug. "I know she had a vision with Matt, but he wouldn't tell me what his mother saw, just that his mother might have been really freaked out by even remembering it. Neither would Lance, which… given what his mother and her husband did to him, would make sense. They probably crammed all sorts of lies into his head before he got his ass kicked."

"And how were you named?" Scootaloo asked, turning to Maria.

Maria wilted a bit. "Old daddy wanted to name me Maria before the meanies took him away," she answered uneasily. "New daddy chose my last name." Anna pulled her into a hug, less constricting than the last one she gave her, which she reciprocated. "Old mommy didn't tell me about any visions…"

"They would have named her in her old home, come puberty," Anna mouthed to the trio. They nodded in understanding, and waited for the adoptive mother and child to break their hug before continuing with the discussion.

"So are last names chosen based on quirks the ponies notice about themselves?" Sweetie asked.

"Depends on the individual, though in my case, I was named fully by dad because that was Greenwood's naming schtick, so he went with that," Anna answered with a shrug. "And every villager of eighteen years gets a title, always capped off with 'Of The Forested Flock,' or something like that. I… never got that, as technically, I was never really accepted in the village to begin with. Neither did Sarah, truth be told."

And speaking of Greenwood, the bumbling idiot who got the backhoof meandered his way back to the table, still wearing his oblivious grin that told the Crusaders he might need an extra concussion or two. Again, he wrapped his leg around Anna's neck, only to scream as Maria dug her claws into his pastern with enough force to draw blood. "Let mommy go, or I will rip your eyes off," Maria hissed in warning, causing the moron to release the Lieutenant-General before the young hippogryph released her hold in turn.

The idiot took a few steps away from the table. "You need to control that kid," he said, gesturing to Maria.

Anna turned to him, glowering. "Just… leave us alone," she said firmly. The idiot nodded, and moved to trot towards the table the other villagers were huddled at… and the Crusaders noticed said other villagers glaring at the imbecile as he approached.

"I reckon he's got a thicker skull than the head of the school board," Apple Bloom said tartly.

"Tell me about it," Anna agreed with a sour nod. She turned to Maria and added, "And next time that buffoon tries seducing my tail off, let me or another grown-up handle it, okay?"

Maria nodded, and puffed her feathers out. "But that pony was stupid, mommy! How else do you get stupid ponies to stop?" she argued.

Anna groaned, lifted a claw, and patted her child on the head. "Yeah, yeah… but he's not bad stupid. Just regular stupid," she clarified. "Bad stupid is what you should claw the faces off of. Regular stupid, you kick between the hinds and tell them to go away."

"... does Maria have to be vicious?" Scootaloo asked.

Anna firmly nodded. "Lots of foals on Fantasia… assuming that they live, or become undead, tend to have a mean streak a mile wide. Not in the bullying sense, but the 'everything is out to kill me, so I have to kill it first' sense. Lance and the rest of us… didn't, until circumstances basically forced that onto us," she answered unhappily. "There are those who haven't fully caught on to the moto, like Heather, because…" Here, she mouthed, "she's a little stunted upstairs, if you get my drift."

"Can't be a dull tool in the shed, otherwise you get discarded like the arcane shadows of the past before you," Katie added with a sour nod of her own. "One of the last bits of advice my former King gave me before the hive I belonged to got wiped, and… I'll admit, it's one of the very few pieces of his advice I still follow."

"What about the other foals of Greenwood?" Apple Bloom asked.

Anna shook her head. "They typically don't get training until fourteen, and it persists until twenty-one," she replied. "Of course, they're only taught how to wield simple weapons, like shovels and bows and arrows." She shrugged. "And not… complex items, like gunblades, because Greenwood could be considered backwater in that regard."

"But you have archery as your special talent," Sweetie pointed out.

Anna nodded. "Yes, but you have to remember: I technically have a curse mark," she replied. "Mine was altered by the Greenwood Blight, and further still by the geases until they came undone." She gestured to the scars on her body. "Besides, I've gotten pretty good at manipulating my Blight for mundane uses." The wood rustled as she said that.

"And by 'mundane uses,' you mean…?" Sweetie prompted, spinning a hoof in the air.

"Well, generally as extra armor, or giving unwanted suitors a bad case of the itchies," Anna answered with a shrug. "I just haven't tested it much, because I use my magic externally most of the time. Before last week, it was practically beyond my control whenever it decided it wanted to crop up."

"Wait, the vines on your legs are poisonous?" Apple Bloom asked.

Anna nodded. "I have two types, ivy and kudzu. The kudzu is what you see now; the ivy is tucked away, awaiting further orders," she elaborated. "As mom always said: 'leaves of three, leave them be.'"

"Applejack drilled that into my head too, 'cause ivy'll eat all the sunlight the trees need at the Acres," Apple Bloom said with a nod. Applejack winked at her.

Anna donned a wan smile. "I see your big sis taught you well," she noted dryly. "She did tell you to use gloves, right?"

Apple Bloom nodded. "And to wash my hooves after," she affirmed, garnering some laughter from the tables around theirs, as well as from Anna.

"Well, at least one of the sister worlds is being sensible," Anna said with a grin. The Crusaders nodded, and once more consulted the list of inedibles; it was a start to their biggest conundrum with the report, but soon, they would find themselves asking for something a little more substantial than a list of poisonous, weird flora.

Seventh Day, Afternoon—Written Testimony

The trio had gathered in Lance's office once more, although this time, he had his cohorts with him, as well as Lazarus and Sarah, and scarcely anyone else. He regarded them with a level look, crimson eyes sparkling with confusion. "Wait… you want us to write down shorthoof versions of how we saw the events of the Catastrophe play out, and the Trials of Attrition, but keep ourselves partially anonymous so that your classmates don't lose their marbles?" he asked.

Scootaloo nodded. "Yeah; Cheerilee's gonna dock points if we don't have footnotes handy," she answered. "And… well, something written by you guys is better than nothing at all."

Lance nodded, folding his hooves across his desk. "I see," he said, turning to look at Matt and Natalie, who regarded him with raised brows. "Well… if that's the only thing you three need, I guess we can bite." He turned to his subordinates. "You heard the children," he said firmly. "Just keep it… as kid-friendly as you can make that mess, okay?"

Matt sighed reluctantly, and picked up a piece of paper alongside a fountain pen and ink, all from the ether, to begin writing. Natalie took her cue, picked up a sheet and fountain pen of her own, and started scribbling. Anna didn't do likewise, instead content to declare a thumb war with her sister and see whose claws had more strength between the two of them. Lance pulled out a sheet and pen of his own from the desk, as well as some ink, clasped the end of said pen in his mouth, and began writing.

"You write with your mouth?" Scootaloo asked, tilting her head. Lance pulled up from the paper to nod and clasp the pen in his fetlock. "Don't you have… y'know… hooves?"

"Well… my writing's bad," Lance answered with a frown. "It's just more legible if I use my face for some reason. I've tried wings and hooves before, and even I couldn't read what I wrote whenever I did so." He shrugged. "Between all the tutoring lessons of language, writing, and reading I've gotten, I still feel like I haven't caught up. And before that, I barely knew how to use the runes for the geases, so I just went for the real basic stuff on that front and got to watch it blow up in my face."

… apparently, the lack of Fantasian schools was worse than the trio thought, if the flippin' General had to struggle with the mere concept of writing. Maybe the military should rectify that soon. "Are you still… learning?" Sweetie Belle hedged.

Lance shook his head. "No, the tutors just taught me the basics of the modern writing system and let me go once I got the gist of it. Better to write chicken scratch than nothing at all," he answered. With that, he put the pen back into his mouth and resumed where he left off.

"Mom and dad had the decency to teach us how to read and write, although… Greenwood used ancient alicorn, so that's what we use most of the time," Anna said as she pulled her claw away from Sarah's own, setting it on the floor. "I did have to be taught how to use the more modern way of writing during my rehabilitation period."

Scootaloo turned to Matt. "I've noticed that your modern writing doesn't look all that different from what Equestria uses. Is it a dialect?" she asked.

Matt put the end of the fountain pen to his lips, then nodded. "I guess you could say that. Why, is there gonna be any translation trouble if we just turn these in to you as they are?"

"There could be," Scootaloo replied, wings drooping slightly.

Matt nodded, and smiled at the kids. "I'll be sure to send these to Twilight Sparkle, so she can iron that out then," he said. "If anyone can sort out translation troubles, it'd be her."

"At this rate, she's practically our go-to for that sort of thing," Natalie noted as an aside, her eyes firmly glued to her paper as she wrote. "She found a book in the Crystal Empire that lets her translate ancient alicorn into something modern; before that, we were having to rely on Anna for that kind of task, and she's still inexperienced with it." Then she turned pointedly to the sisters and said, "You two might as well help; you technically were there when Greenwood was attacked the first time."

Anna groaned, but lit her horn and grabbed a paper, a fountain pen, and some ink to start jotting down what she had seen regardless. Sarah moved to lean over her sister's shoulder to watch the writing in progress. "Wow… you've gotten really good at writing," Sarah noted as soon as Anna completed the first full sentence of her testimony.

"Had time to practice, between all the papers I have to help sort," Anna replied with a sigh. "Besides, we do have to stop by from time to time just to try and dent the mountain in the Office of Doom."

"... you're the type of ponies to go out and do things, rather than sit inside of offices and let the soldiers take care of it?" Sweetie guessed, garnering seven nods as an immediate answer.

"Few ponies and other creatures in most towns could say the same around here, and those are usually the mercenary types," Matt said with a shrug. "Put it like this: ever since the Catastrophe happened, there's been a noticeable uptick in cutie marks, and because Fantasia isn't safe for children, we've also seen a rise in hardened mercs with itchy trigger hocks."

"We know one wingless gryphon who prefers to be on the ground, and he rides a magitek chariot everywhere he goes, and that thing has guns. We call him the lone rider," Anna said with a grin. "He got his ride suplexed by Fenrir, twice in one day, I heard. The second time was to flip it back onto its wheels."

"He's not part of the military?" Apple Bloom asked.

Anna shook her head. "He does act as our intel from time to time, though," she answered. "And then there's this rogue band of wingless gryphons who broke off from the main gryphon settlements before the Trials of Attrition happened. Those guys are engineers, and found their own airship with our help to use as a mobile base of operations. They've made their own planes as well, and if they show up, they just park outside of the mountain because their base is huge."

Natalie added, "We… steer clear of them most of the time, but there have been instances where they've harassed Red Barrel and her group. They've also tried to rob Golden Chalice multiple times whenever she went on adventures on foot, and failed repeatedly… they're basically still in their 'sticky claws' period, though we let them have some of our excess charging crystals to keep themselves afloat without them stealing them from us."

"Like pirates?" Scootaloo asked.

"Yep. Trust us, we never thought pirates could fly in the sky either," Anna said with some measure of amusement. "Although… sometimes they're tame enough, we do get the occasional tidbits of information from them too… I heard the captain adopted a hippogryph foal of his own, and she's taken a real shine to him."

"Do they steal from you guys often?" Apple Bloom asked.

Matt shook his head. "Well, no. They know better than to poke sleeping dragons," he answered tartly. "If anything, we have a truce of sorts between us, but it doesn't stop the more salacious members of the pirate crew from hitting on Red Barrel." He smiled ruefully. "Fortunately, our truce does have a clause in it that lets her… deal with the perverts, as it were."

"They usually steal from assholes even worse than them—and to be worse than a sky pirate, you have to be pretty damn low on the criminal ladder," Natalie said. "One time, we got to watch as the cultists we were trying to find got obliterated by their cannons and aircraft. After that, they split the spoils with us."

"And what did the cultists have?" Sweetie pressed.

"Generally, dangerous magical tomes, spare parts for airships, and things like that. We took the tomes and had them put in a vault," Natalie answered, smiling at the thought. "And no, we don't use those tomes; we have our own custom grimoires for that, and none of them have any forbidden spells." She made it to the end of her written testimony, summoned an ink stamp cushion from the ether, and considered it for a moment before turning to the children. "Hoofprint, or no?"

"Hoofprint, please," the Crusaders chorused in unison.

"Are you sure? Because we use a special ink that will mark the area inside the horseshoe with our cutie marks once stamped," Natalie said, the remark causing the children to contemplate this for a moment before nodding. She relented, put her hoof in the cushion, dabbed it in ink a few times, and put her hoofprint on the parchment. She flipped the paper around so the children would see the ink spreading to the inside of the shoe, forming a perfect copy of the shooting star trailing feathers that made her mark. It was sat next to an authentic, magic-written signature and once fully dried, she folded it neatly and set it on the desk.

Matt grinned, and took the ink cushion that Natalie had summoned as he got to the bottom of the parchment. He stamped his hoof a few times, put it on the paper, and turned it to the trio to show them that it was forming an exact replica of his cutie mark too, which was a simple pentagram that was upright with the silhouette of a winged sword standing in the middle. His signature was somewhat sloppy, but also authentic. Once the ink dried, he folded it up and placed it next to Natalie's written testimony.

Anna finished her written testimony, then signed it and gave it to her sister. "Just put your rank and last name on the parchment, and then we can both stamp it," she said. Sarah nodded, took the paper, and signed accordingly, making sure to give hers a bit of space to not overlap it with her sibling's signature. Once that was done, Anna turned to the Crusaders. "Wood, or hoof?" she asked.

"Hoof," the trio answered. Anna nodded, willed her wood to part from her hooves, grabbed the ink cushion and mimicked the procedure of her cohorts. Once stamped with her hoofprint and cutie mark, she gave the cushion to her sister.

"Use your talon," Anna instructed. Sarah obliged, did the stamping, and was offered a napkin summoned from the ether to wipe the excess off her claw. She showed the trio the stamps afterwards, and in the case of the talon-stamp, the cutie mark appeared next to it as opposed to in the crooks between the digits. "That reminds me, we gotta update my flags at some point…" Anna turned to Lance as Sarah folded up their shared testimony and went to deposit it on the desk.

Lazarus, who until now was quiet, got weird looks from Matt and Natalie. He relented, was given a paper, and ink, and a pen, and he took it in his magic and began writing. Lance was ahead of him, stamping his hoof onto his testimony, showing it to the Crusaders, folding it up as soon as the ink dried and putting it in the pile. His cutie mark, a missile adorned with a manji, only confused the hell out of them in the brief interval that they looked at it.

"What does your cutie mark mean?" Apple Bloom asked.

"Mine?" Lance asked, garnering a nod from the fillies. "Well… it came about when I managed to fire a missile out of a blaster, once. I can replicate it, but it requires me to be on the ground," he answered with a shrug. "But the symbol embossed on the missile… well, I've heard rumors of past ponies using it for a peace symbol, so I generally just link it to peace." He heard NoLegs meow as he stamped a paper using his tail, and deposited his testimony onto the pile shortly afterwards.

Lance gestured to Lazarus as he stamped his testimony with a hoofprint of his own. "Some ponies, however, suffer from Cutie Mark Blackout Syndrome. I… came close to suffering the condition, and so did Anna, but we both were reciscutated in time," he said.

"I have it… and I'm glad I wasn't reciscutated until the next day," Lazarus said as he plopped his testimony on the pile. "I'd rather not remember how I got mine."

Lance opened his mouth to say something else, when he heard a low hum come from the desk, and another, distant hum that sounded as though it were miles away, yet rapidly drawing close. He sighed and put the pen into a desk drawer before reaching around to rummage for the source of the offending noise. He pulled open another drawer and fished out a radio, which he plopped on the desk. "What now?" he grumbled into the device.

"Sir, not to sound annoying, but the guard posts have reported the sky pirates are coming in to dock," Blue Crow answered on the other end. "And from what those soldiers report, they sound pissed."

Lance sighed. "Alright, who the hell poked them this time?" he groaned.

"It's not just the sky pirates; the guard posts have also reported the lone rider trekking across the mountain ranges to get to us," Blue Crow reported. "He looked pretty miffed, too."

"... what brought him out of the woodwork?" the Lieutenants asked in unison, turning to the radio.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Blue Crow said with a sigh. "I'll see if I can mediate again, if they bother to show up before Redpine's attack is due by its estimated time of arrival, over and out." With that, the radio fell silent, at least for the time being.

Lance groaned. "Peachy. Just freakin' peachy. So now both the lone rider and sky pirates are coming to us to lodge some damn complaints. While Redpine's mobile assault cloud is headed our way," he hissed, wings ruffling at the thought. The hum in the distance grew louder, and louder as he regarded his subordinates.

"... it sounds less like a complaint, and more like they found troubling news," Anna hedged carefully. "Because, let's face it: it couldn't be otherwise. The last time they reported something to you on the same day, you had to deal with Akron."

"And the time after, they caught sightings of an elusive teenager with natural camouflage blending into the trees of Lankyroot Jungle, whom they could not approach because the magitek they used scared her into hiding," Lance said dryly. "And then we found you days after the report with your legs askew, so to speak, and a mutated flower trying to eat you." He ruffled his feathers again. "It must be something substantial, considering their track record."

Anna conceded, and turned to regard the window. "You think they know anything about Redpine?" she asked.

"Probably not, unless Redpine decided they wanted to harass them, too," Matt answered with a shrug. "Which… I wouldn't put it past them to do, to be honest." As he said that, the room shook with the loud hum—no, the loud roar of a particularly large airship's engine and several propellers.

Everyone turned to the window, and the Crusaders gasped as an airborne, cannon-studded fortress of a ship hovered down into the plains, the only spot it could really fit in, with wingless gryphons in bandanas and striped cloths with cutlasses keeping watch as she descended gently. They trotted around the desk to peer out the window, and found a very weird sight: a collection of ponies were assembled on the deck of the beast, each and every one present looking around worriedly.

Anna trotted to the window as well, and groaned. "Damn it all… Lance, the sky pirates seem to have the entire townships of Whitefall and Goldenbrick assembled on their vessel," she hissed, shaking her head. Lance jumped from his seat, snapped his wings open, swiveled around in his chair and got up to take a look. As he peered at the unusual procession, mobile shadows raced from the fortress and up towards the window with intent, bearing a star-shaped blue jewel and a flame-shaped red jewel with golden accents.

Lance ruffled his feathers once more, his wings almost rattling with the motion. He remained silent for a moment, then turned to Matt and Natalie. "You two, prepare the auditorium. It seems your folks have deigned fit to visit," he ordered curtly. He used his wings to shepherd the children away from the window. "You might want to give them breathing space," he advised, which they promptly heeded as the shadows drew closer to the window. Anna trotted around the desk as well, solely to let the mobile shadows have a bit of walking room when they touched down.

It wasn't long before the shadows swallowed the jewels, bypassed the window by seeping into whatever few cracks they could get through between frame and pane, and landed on the floor to solidify into a collection of three ponies and a wingless gryphon, two unicorns and one earth pony. The earth pony looked the most normal, a black-and-white pinto with a grey mane and ice blue eyes, about as big as Big Mac, but maybe more muscular in build. He boasted leather armor, and a scabbard holding a sword.

The unicorns… they were not normal, and were wearing rather warm clothes concealing everything but their faces, manes, and tails. The lavender mare of them had a blond mane melting into shadows, as tall as Shining Armor and with a curved scarlet horn to match, shadows wisping from blue eyes with blackened sclera. The stallion, red-furred with a beige mane melting into shadows, had blackened sclera and a scarlet curved horn as well, and all three wore firm frowns on their faces. The wingless gryphon had a pale brown lion's body and claws, greyed feathers, and a beard adorning his beak with a scar running over one of his eyes, themselves adorned with bushy brows. He wore a thick, almost bulky purple coat and a pirate's hat and cutlass, his beak twisted into a frown.

"... Mom? Dad? Uncle Andrew? What the hell happened?" Matt asked, eyes widening as he beheld his folks.

The unicorn mare—no, Umbrum, the Crusaders realized—turned to Matt with her frown deepening. "Whitefall and Goldenbrick were attacked," she said gravely. "Pegasi and alicorns… all dead-eyed and carrying blasters came to try and murder everypony in the two towns. Andrew was in Goldenbrick, away on trading business, and he was able to get their people and belongings out of harm's way. I stayed in Whitefall to do the same."

Matt paled. "Did… did the pegasi and alicorns have red eyes?" he asked.

His mother nodded. "They did. Tequila here… he agreed to let both communities temporarily lodge in his fortress, and had his pirates take care of the flocks," she answered.

Tequila nodded, reached into a coat pocket, produced a cigar and lighter, and proceeded to light the cigar to puff in some smoke. "Aye, 'tis as the Umbrum lass said," he said gravely, shaking his head. "Had to calm the lot o' landlubbers down, an' tell them me an' me crew would take them somewhere far safer. Better that they managed to nab the sacred jewels; don't want Godcat decidin' to smite us down from the skies." He shook his head, smoke curling from his nostrils as he exhaled. "Sons o' bitches tryin' to use those puny blasters thought they could scuttle me an' me crew, but instead, we made the whole lot o' 'em walk the plank with their wings tied. One e'en tried to grab me child… an' that, I couldn't stand."

Lance frowned at the troubling news. "And the state of the towns is…?" he pressed.

Tequila shook his head. "The townships themselves, the landlubbers'll have to rebuild from scratch, but e'erypony be fine an' dandy, if a bit rustled. Just as well; they was prone anyway to aerial assault, but at least they got the treasures out so those sons o' bitches can't get their mitts on 'em," he answered, taking another hit off the cigar. "Whole damn lot o' bastards couldn't fight their way outta a cave with instructions carved into their hooves." He turned to look squarely at Lance. "An' I saw that Greenwood got wiped off the map, so I assumed ye an' yer crew had something to do with it."

Matt's mother seemed to wilt. "Is everypony in Greenwood alright?" she asked.

"... the ones around my age, and younger, are alright, as well as a single elder," Anna answered, shaking her head. "The other elders and the village leaders… they're six hooves under."

"... and were they attacked by pegasi and alicorns?" Andrew asked, his frown deepening when Anna shook her head again.

"The Void came for Greenwood," Anna said simply.

Tequila slowly nodded. "Unfortunate," he muttered. "But the more pressin' matter is: where'er the flock o' bastards came from, they seem to be makin' moves. Big moves, about as big as Big Magnum out there." He thumbed to the aerial fortress outside. "I would assume ye an' yer crew know where they're comin' from?"

Lance nodded firmly. "I do know where the flocks are coming from. They have an attack headed our way too, and earlier this week, we had to deal with a magical abomination they sent to try and cripple our magitek," he answered.

Tequila's face hardened considerably. "... that ain't good, Brassy. We had a magical freak on our ship too, an' we had to dispatch it to keep ourselves afloat. Ye know what the flocks want?" he asked, taking another hit off his cigar.

"I don't know what they want, but I can say I'll find that out if the flock coming here arrives by our estimates… which is today's sunset," Lance answered, before turning to the children. "Hopefully, we can send these three back home before then."

Tequila turned to the Crusaders, and regarded them with a critical eye. "... I can tell by yer looks that ye ain't from around here," he said. "Where ye come from?"

"We came from Mythos," Apple Bloom said.

Tequila kept regarding them, appraising their cutie marks. "Mythos, eh? Not heard much about the sister world… an' yet, yer marks make ye look like yer from here," he noted.

"We got them recently," Sweetie proffered.

Tequila slowly nodded, almost as though he weren't exactly buying the explanation. "Well, at least yer marks'll take ye far, I can tell that much," he said. He turned to Lance again. "Didn't think ye were the type to foalsit, but then again… neither was I, until I brought Mescal aboard."

"And speaking of, is she alright?" Lance asked.

Tequila nodded, smiling faintly. "Aye. She clawed the hell outta the bastard that tried nabbin' her. He got cleaned up an' outta the ship right after," he affirmed. "Tryin' to earn her cutie mark in engineerin', an' she's almost as good as the crew hands." His smile fell a moment later. "But the bastards… they can teleport. Or at least, the ones they sent after the townships."

"They learned how to teleport…?" Lance muttered in genuine dismay, frowning at that. "That… does not sound good at all. Is that how they got to Goldenbrick and Whitefall?"

Matt's mother nodded. "One moment, the air was quiet; the next, we were nearly blinded by flashes of light overhead," she confirmed. "Said something about taking all the fillies of Whitefall to use as…" She shuddered. "I don't want to think about it anymore."

"Were there casualties?" Lance asked, daring not to breathe a sigh of relief as the Umbrum mare shook her head.

"No. I was able to get everypony and their belongings out in time," the mare replied, shoulders sagging. "I don't want to know what would've happened if I hadn't been as quick as I was."

"Same here," Andrew said, moving to sit down on the floor. "The flock attacking Goldenbrick had light spells… bad ones, trying to dispel my shadows to pick off members of the Goldenbrick community. I don't know what I would have done, if I hadn't found that cave filled with angry wyrms on the nearby mountain."

Matt's brow furrowed. "Oh, right, you two are still vulnerable to strong light spells…" he muttered. He turned to the Crusaders. "It looks like we'll have to send you back to the guest rooms for a bit…" When they made a pout, he added, "Don't worry, we'll protect you if the attacking force shows up sooner than expected—we'll just have to figure out what to do about Redpine in the meantime."

Andrew sighed. "Want me to take them?" he asked.

Matt nodded. "Just… ask the soldiers where to go, and they should point you in the right direction. If they ask, tell them you're family," he answered. He gestured to the piles of papers on the desk. "And take those, too; kids need 'em." Andrew nodded, solidified into shadows, and moved to the children to wrap them in darkness to take them out of the room, making sure to take the papers with him as well. The trio hoped that the matter would be sorted out before they returned home.

Seventh Day, Evening—Hoofprint of Approval

Andrew watched as the Crusaders worked on their report, unable to truly grasp what on Godcat's dismal Fantasia they were doing, and yet electing to not comment about it. Instead, he paced in the guest room, a radio that had been given to him by a soldier clutched firmly in his shadows. On the other end, banter from Lance and his group filled in the silence with worrying chatter.

"This is bad. Really, really bad. If Redpine's forces can teleport with the alicorns of their retinue, I don't want to imagine what'll happen if we don't move to stop it," Lance groused, the sound of ruffling wings punctuating his words with audible, tooth-grindingly high amounts of concern.

"Aye. Flock o' bastards might not fight well, but against unprepared townships, they be devastatin'," Tequila agreed. The Crusaders could almost hear his slow nod. "Was only through sheer luck that the ponies of Whitefall an' Goldenbrick e'en got out o' that mess alive. But Redpine's in a volcano, so me an' me crew can't help much there."

"Yes, and truth be told, unless we break out the ION Cannon, we won't be able to penetrate those defenses either," Lance hissed, again accompanied by the sound of his feathers going askew. "Furthermore, those bastards have prisoners inside the volcano that would make that operation impractical. I'm guessing they haven't strangled themselves or said prisoners in the heat, thanks to the damned Illicit Instrumentation."

"... breedin' stock," Tequila hissed, the contempt audible in his words. "I may be a pirate, Brassy, but e'en I don't stoop that low." He was heard striking the lighter again, probably for another cigar. "An' I know ye; ye wouldn't sleep at night if ye had to kill ponies as collateral, especially those who can't e'en protect themselves from anythin'."

"Yeah, and I did lose some sleep over the Greenwood incident… until Windwood here told me what the elders did to her," Lance agreed, sighing.

"... they had their way with her, didn't they?" Tequila guessed, followed by a few tense seconds of silence.

"... yes," Anna confirmed.

"... better that the Void came to Greenwood, then," Tequila hissed. "No tellin' what Godcat'll be doin' to those bastards now."

The Crusaders shuddered, even as they put the written testimonies into their report, alongside some photographs of the stack. They made sure that whatever photos they put in only showed soldiers working, and nothing they would consider particularly hush-hush. Once that was done, they went over their last few notes, which they also made sure didn't spill anything counting towards 'classified.'

The cargo bays are where the Aerie holds any surplus items, except for metals, which are re-routed to the factory. Surplus items include magitek crystals, both charged and unable to charge, spare ammunition, and the occasional foodstuffs, which are stored in special cocoons designed to keep them long-lasting for when the foodstuffs cannot fit into existing pantries and refrigerators. The charged crystals are volatile, so the soldiers have to be careful to not set off any spells in their vicinity, or else they will have horrible accidents. The crystals are mined from various caverns, with extreme care—enough to warrant armed soldiers to protect them from various monsters, should the need arise.

Occasionally, the military of the Aerie comes upon odd things, and if there's nowhere else to put them, will lodge those odd things in the cargo bay until further notice. Such odd things include a live wooly mammoth, a sentient mimic, and a wooden-magitek hybrid called the Mighty Oak, which apparently served as a guardian to Greenwood before recent events forced his relocation. Anything deemed too dangerous, such as forbidden scrolls and tomes, are stored elsewhere for the safety of the hive-nest.

The cargo bays require similar outfits as the factory—safety vests and hardhats, chiefly. As there is less noise in them than in the factories, telepathy and noise mufflers aren't as needed, unless in the event that the Aerie has found something incredibly loud enough to make the mufflers necessary. In addition, the lifts used to access the cargo bays can hold an entire airship, as well as that airship's shipments for further sorting. Some shipments are big enough to use magitek cranes, similar to Equestria's ongoing construction sites in places like Manehattan and Vanhoover. The lifts themselves are connected to a few of the Aerie's hangars, but not all of them.

As for the cuisine of the Aerie, a lot of dishes are improvised, due to the nature of the flora and fauna of Fantasia, which seem to have evolved on a course different from Mythos. For instance, regarding meat products, they consume agile, territorial black birds, house-sized tortoises, pony-sized nonsapient crabs, and pony-sized jellyfish alongside the more standard fish and house-sized, nontoxic squids. As a result of the Aerie's unique culture, there are no restaurants it is in ownership of, instead opting for mess halls and break rooms simply to feed everyone. However, this might change soon, if conditions permit.

As a result of their particular flora and fauna, Fantasians do not eat many fruits and vegetables, on the grounds that a myriad of plants and animals are out on a mission to murder their faces. They have the standard culprits for both fruits and vegetables, but anything beyond said standard culprits are off-limits unless one were to take the highly irregular task of consulting Lieutenant-General Windwood about such matters, due to her experiences with said deadly flora and fauna. As such, she has made a list of inedible flora that cannot be consumed unless the individual who wants to consume them is incredibly suicidal, or seeking a drug binge without the drugs.

Interestingly enough, the General and his Lieutenants are not adverse to eating meat as many ponies on Mythos are. The General suffers from Diomedis Defectus, and therefore must supplement his diet with meat or else he will fall ill. Lieutenant-General Windwood must have meat in her diet as a result of her mixed heritage, though not as bad as the General. Lieutenant-Generals Starcovert and Bladerune do not suffer from the condition, but found themselves with no choice but to hunt for their own food days after the Royale Catastrophe had occurred. They have called it 'acquired taste.'

The Graveyard of the Forgotten has a special magical signature in its area that constructs graves of those from the memories of those living at the Aerie—though it only builds graves for those otherwise forgotten by Fantasian society. It is a process confirmed to take days to complete, and results in impossibly smooth graves not otherwise found in nature or crafted by hoof and claw. Innocents are marked with glowing moss halos and wings, and the guilty are marked with dead moss reminiscent of blood. Tragically, many of the innocent also have fear etched permanently on their graves' statues, perhaps reflecting how they spent their last moments on Fantasia.

Every year, on one night in autumn, the graves seem to be possessed by the deceased. It is unknown if this is them visiting, or the magical signature replicating such—but if the innocents have candles to guide them back to the afterlife, the innate magic snuffs the flames out automatically at dawn. The moss also overtakes any gifts left on the graves, and makes them vanish, perhaps taking them to the afterlife. This event is called the Lonesome March, and it is undertaken by the General and his Lieutenants, who… unfortunately have personally known some of the ponies marked with graves in the Graveyard.

It turns out, the Aerie doesn't have allies so much as sources of information, both of whom use magitek to get about on the world's surface. One of them is a wingless gryphon simply called the lone rider, who operates a gun-laden chariot that may be built for all-purpose terrain travel. The other source, they helped acquire an airship for, which they use to move in the skies with planes of their own surrounding a mobile fortress called the Big Magnum. The operators of the airship and secondary planes are sky pirates, entirely made of wingless gryphons who broke off from the main gryphon settlements before the Trials of Attrition occurred, therefore also managing to get out of being geased through sheer luck.

The ponies of Fantasia have a weird naming convention due to the unique state of the state of the planet before the Royale Catastrophe, effectively forcing the ponies to choose unconventional names. However, because of an uptick in cutie marks post-Catastrophe, many ponies have taken to adding last names to themselves to reflect their talents and cutie marks—Lieutenant-Generals Bladerune and Starcovert are among this number, while others like Lieutenant-General Windwood have been bestowed with full legal names due to the already-long standing conventions that have existed before the Royale Catastrophe even occurred. Others, like the General himself, choose their own full legal names, because the adults they grew up with didn't bother to give them one. It is confirmed that mares in labor do have glimpses of their foals' full lives, but because of a lack of cutie marks overall, do not name them after their potential talents.

The age of consent at the Aerie is twenty-one years of age, based solely on how many molts a changeling undergoes before they reach full adulthood. Reportedly, they settled on that number because nobody could agree on it during the Aerie's formative years, though there are other factors they have considered, from child brides and child soldiers to other unpleasant things, like how many adults beyond the Aerie do not care about anything but themselves. As a result, the Aerie condemns the practice of child brides, and basically murders whoever they find to be committing that particular crime against equinity.

In addition, they were now able to square away the footnotes of their report, just about cinching the entire thing. The fact they had authentic signatures, and hoofprints, wrapped the whole thing up in a neat and pretty bow, despite the ongoing unpleasantness of the radio chatter.

Written testimony on the Trials of Attrition, signed and stamped by General Boltwing

Written testimony on the Royale Catastrophe and Trials of Attrition, signed and stamped by Lieutenant-General Bladerune

Written testimony on the Royale Catastrophe and Trials of Attrition, signed and stamped by Lieutenant-General Starcovert

Written testimony on the Sacking of Greenwood and Trials of Attrition, co-signed and stamped by Lieutenant-General Windwood and Private Lyregale

Written testimony on the Destruction of the Kitten Kingdom and Trials of Attrition, signed and stamped by Colonel NoLegs

Written testimony on the Royale Catastrophe, signed and stamped by Private Highwind

List of inedible flora, written by Lieutenant-General Windwood

The trio shared worried grins as they tucked the goods into their saddlebags, trying to drown out the radio chatter. "So," Sweetie began, "wanna go find Twilight?"

Scootaloo nodded. "If anyone can make sure we have the green light, it's her," she agreed.

Andrew turned to them. "But… where is Twilight?" he asked.

Apple Bloom turned to him, smiling. "She'll be in the guest rooms, like us. We gotta find which one she's in," she answered. With that, the three took the rest of the photographs, stuffed them into their saddlebags alongside pencils and notepads, and turned to trot out of the room to escape the radio chatter. They glanced up and down the hall, and not a door was out of place, not even so much as creaked open.

At least, at first. A door a few trots down to their left opened, and out stumbled the mare they were looking for, grunting in frustration and with a radio clasped in her magical grip. "Oh Faust-damnit all!" Twilight cursed, stomping a hoof as Spike trundled up at her side with a snort leaving his snout. "Whitefall and Goldenbrick got attacked, and now… urg!" She shifted to sit on her haunches to make mane-pulling motions with her front hooves. "What next, will the ancient alicorns decide to make another unstoppable army with geases and broken ponies?!"

"At the rate Fantasia's going, I'm not even surprised anymore. At least all the sane ponies are gathered in one place now, even if they still have to deal with the whackjobs," Spike said curtly, with all the sass he could muster. "Also, I want to meet the sky pirates; they sound decent."

Twilight turned to him, somewhat annoyed. "And who dared ask the dreaded phrase 'what could possibly go wrong' as we approached Greenwood?" she hissed, one of her eyes twitching.

"Well, excuse me, Duchess, but we're on a foreign planet populated almost exclusively by nutcases," Spike snapped back, still holding onto his sass like a liferaft. "If I had known that uttering the dreaded phrase would yield Greenwood being burned, I wouldn't have said anything!"

Twilight opened her mouth to clap back, but then spotted the Crusaders as they approached to personally halt that discussion in its tracks. "Hello…" she said in a clipped, irritated tone, before noticing the very fat report that the trio had in their saddlebags. She brightened considerably, eager to take her mind off of more tragic and current events. "I see you're finished?"

"We got the hoofprint of approval from the General himself," the three chorused.

"But we need you to look it over again, make sure it's good-good, since the sky pirates have taken Lance's attention," Sweetie added, lighting her horn to lift the report out of the saddlebags. She hoofed the goods over, which Twilight took in her magic.

"... did the sky pirates try anything?" Twilight asked.

Sweetie shook her head. "The captain just asked us where we were from, and kept his attention on Lance otherwise," she answered. "His crew hands are probably helping the ponies of Whitefall and Goldenbrick into the Aerie."

Twilight slowly nodded, and moved to start looking over the report once more, this time in its entirety. She smiled approvingly as she let her eyes trail down the first sheet, without taking a red-inked quill out to start making corrections. She was no teacher after all; better to let the ones with actual teaching degrees sort that out. That being said, she did shudder a bit as she moved on to the second chapter of the report in a matter of moments, eyes glinting in wonder, as though she were pondering how much of the Trials of Attrition the Crusaders had embellished over how much they had gotten correct.

Spike took the radio Twilight clutched, and moved back into the room he walked out of with it. He called over his shoulder as he made to close the door, "I'll let you know if Lance says anything fishy." Twilight nodded, but pretended to not really hear him as she moved to the third chapter of the report, the one detailing the Aerie as it was currently.

"Well… all the information lines up so far," Twilight said dryly, nodding in approval. She flipped some more pages, read through them, and moved on to the economy section. "... huh… all this treasure lying around, and while not hoarding it, aren't able to share it with the rest of Fantasia…" she noted, frowning at that tidbit. "Makes sense, given all Fantasia has to offer otherwise…"

"Which is a bunch of control freak plotheads strung up on power trips normally used by school bullies?" Scootaloo proffered, causing Twilight to seize up and turn to her with a gaping mouth. "What? It's what Rainbow would have said."

"Y-yes, but… should you not be using that word?" Twilight gabbled, frowning. "What if your aunts hear you speaking such language?"

Scootaloo shrugged. "It's what they would've said about Fantasia, had they found out how bad it was," she countered. "Besides, they taught me what that word means, and wouldn't mind if I used it appropriately." She flared her wings in defiance. "And I'm pretty sure I used it appropriately."

Twilight smiled ruefully, and lifted a hoof to pat Scootaloo's mane. "Well, at least you're right about the usage of the word," she said. "Although, I'm pretty sure your parents would object to it."

"They're not around; they heard nothing," Scootaloo retorted with a growing grin.

Twilight sighed, and returned to reading the report. She got to the fifth chapter easily enough, and snickered at the highlights of a Fantasian military culture. "Takes the act of conscripting children as a heinous crime, save for where there is no alternative for said children in question…" Her smile fell a moment later, and her snickering stopped. "Then again… that's probably why Anna's in the military so young…" she mused, shuddering as that uncomfortable thought ran its gamut through her head.

Then Twilight got to the portion regarding the Aerie's age of consent, and if she had wings, her feathers might have been a bit cankled reading it. As she had no feathers to cankle, she did the next best thing: let her ears fall flat against her head. "... oh… oh…" was all Twilight said about that matter, as she opted to speedread that particular section of text in her haste to get to the next bit of her Fantasian culture learning experience.

Fortunately for her, the next part of that learning experience emphasized unity and some sense of harmony, something she was intimately familiar with due to her understanding of the concepts. Of course, it was more unity than harmony, but in the end the concepts were practically interchangeable, if a bit different with the things they leaned towards.

Afterwards, came the weird naming conventions of the Aerie's ponies, few that there were prior to the Greenwood and Sunnytown fiascos, and the fact that it mentioned the mares undergoing labor having glimpses of their foals' future lives. Twilight turned to the Crusaders with a frown. "... did Anna…"

Apple Bloom wilted with a sour nod. "She did. Saw nothing but darkness and cold," she confirmed bitterly. "More I think about it, more I think the twins she popped out were just… too good for Fantasia."

Twilight's frown took on a pitying cast. "... that's… unfortunate…" was all she could muster on the topic. "At least the report doesn't mention anything about her situation…"

"Well, she had to testify about the Sacking of Greenwood, seeing as she was kinda there when the Trials of Attrition were going on," Sweetie said unhappily. "But we looked; her testimony didn't include any of the bunk Greenwood did to her."

"Oh, yeah… Pinkie went to chew the remaining villagers out over it…" Twilight grumbled, shuddering. "They made her pull Gummy from her mane, just to have him clamp his mouth around the snout of the village idiot. Before beaning him… in his beans… with her party cannon…"

That made the trio wince. Point-blank party cannon to the beans didn't sound particularly fun. "What did the village idiot do now?" Scootaloo asked, wings drooping with the question.

"He… tried reaching Lance's office. To propose to Anna. With numerous soldiers telling him to stop before he got himself hurt by heartbreak and disappointment," Twilight said dryly. "I heard he wants to challenge the others for her hoof in marriage… not that she'd let that fly anyway."

"Is it bad if both ponies aren't legal here?" Apple Bloom asked sincerely.

Twilight nodded as she flipped to the next chapter of the report, the one detailing its magitek. "In this case, yes, on the grounds that Anna isn't too keen on getting hitched to begin with," she replied. "I also heard arranged marriages, and trying to use marriages to secure alliances, are strictly illegal here."

"But don't the nobles of Canterlot practice those things?" Sweetie Belle asked.

Twilight nodded. "Yeah, they still do… which is going to rustle their nonexistent feathers something fierce, when they learn the Aerie has put a stop to the practice in their territory," she said, frowning as she continued reading. "Let's put it like this: I heard along the grapevine, from Blueblood, that some members of the nobility are seeking to marry some of their sons off to Natalie, because they think she's pureblood or some garbage like that, and use that marriage as leverage to spread their racist bunk here. Which makes it a good thing we're not in Canterlot right now—she'd probably set some tails on fire, like I heard she did that one time to a blacksmith that kept pestering her about it."

"... is the blacksmith alive?" Scootaloo asked.

Twilight nodded again. "I heard he stopped his shenanigans soon after that," she confirmed unhappily. "Natalie… doesn't handle marriage proposals well, either. I'm pretty sure if a convicted rapist, a tried and true racist, or a nobility supremacist tried asking for her hoof, she'd shoot him to the moon. And then blow the moon up using the ION Cannon just to ensure he's gone." She shrugged. "Sarah might opt for bean removal, bare-clawed. I heard she has done that before when the chips were down and there were no other options."

The Crusaders shuddered at that mental imagery. "So… marriage here has to be by willing, of-age creatures," they surmised, garnering another nod from Twilight.

"You might want to include that in the report, more specifically the culture section, but you do have spare papers, yes?" Twilight asked as she flipped to the seventh chapter.

"We have plenty of spares," Apple Bloom replied, grinning. "We can include a few extra bits."

"Excellent," Twilight said, smiling genuinely once more as she sped up her reading to conclude the matter quicker. In record time she got to the footnotes section, read the testimonies, and grinned as she returned the report to the trio. "I think that covers everything. Other than what little I said you might need to add, it looks great!"

"Thank you, Twilight!" the Crusaders chorused in unison, garnering a giggle out of her as she moved to pat their heads. As soon as her hoof returned to the floor, the door the trio had left from popped open again, and Andrew strode out, radio still clutched in his shadows and with a look of grave concern etched on his face. The four turned to him and frowned, noticing he had shed his warm clothes in favor of a simple black traveling cloak.

"Um… Lance wants those three at the entrance of the hangars," Andrew said, pointing to the fillies. "As well as a white fluffy cat. Like… right now."

Twilight nodded. "I'll go find Opalescence; keep an eye on these three until I get back," she said, lighting her horn again. In a burst of light she vanished, though the burst wasn't enough to make Andrew wince. The trio turned to the Umbrum stallion and trotted to him, mainly to see if they could get any answers from him before they headed back home.

"Do you have a cutie mark?" Apple Bloom asked. Andrew nodded, and turned his body before lifting his cloak to show it off, a simple silver shield bearing a golden pentagram etched in its surface. "Oh, so you're good at defending ponies?" she guessed.

Andrew nodded. "My sister Eve has a ying-yang ball, the black half brimming with light, and the white half bursting with shadows," he answered.

"But I thought Umbrum were weak to light," Sweetie said. "Does that mean Eve knows light spells?"

"She has a few weak light spells, but generally uses her magic based on the concept of inversion: basically, she catches a spell thrown at her, converts it to shadows or whatever she needs, and then sends it back to the original sender to watch it blow up in their face," Andrew answered. "If it's an ice spell, she'll turn it into fire, earth to wind, and so on, but her spellcasting leaves a lot to be desired despite its versatility."

"Ooooooh," the trio chorused, their heads bobbing slightly.

"Yeah, not many ponies or Umbrum use the concept of inversion. She did manage to teach it to Natalie, though," Andrew added with a shrug of his shoulders. "Matt… never caught on, though him being half earth pony might have something to do with that."

"But isn't inversion advanced?" Sweetie asked.

"Yeah, and before she and her friends and adoptive brother were foalnapped, Natalie struggled with the concept. Hell, with spellcasting in general. Then again, advanced magic is hard to explain to a budding teenager…" Andrew sighed and shook his head. "But she understood the concept at least, so maybe she can apply it now that she's an adult."

"Which probably meant that the spell surge summoning hellfire was probably Natalie's first major spellcasting accomplishment," the Crusaders didn't hear Andrew say. In itself, that thought was particularly tragic, yet strangely relieving at the same time, even if burning ponies alive left something of a scar on Natalie's psyche. A big scar, now that they thought about it. Maybe they could smuggle therapists into Fantasia to get the military the help they needed. Although, they might need some help with that tall order, and had to shelve the idea for another time.

"Are Umbrum weak to love?" Sweetie asked. "Because I heard over in Equestria, King Sombra was vanquished by love. And blown to pieces."

Andrew sighed. "Just the wicked ones are prone to it. The good ones only have a strong light weakness," he answered. "And even if you had enough love to strangle a whole changeling hive, crystal ponies here… they don't have the means to channel that love to kill any wicked Umbrum. In fact, we can't tell who is a crystal pony to save our hides, besides Natalie and Lazarus."

Scootaloo frowned. That meant that wicked Umbrum were planning something for Fantasia, potentially. "I heard something about crystal ponies here being able to shut off their sparkle. Would that be a problem?" she asked.

Andrew nodded. "Most crystal ponies, assuming they are indeed crystal, can't activate their luster to save their hides," he confirmed. "Godcat took that ability away from them, after punishing the crystal alicorn leading them for her cowardice. Or something like that." He shrugged. "I… never really got around to confirming anything, despite how old I am."

"... and how old are you?" Apple Bloom hedged.

"Me and my sister Eve are about five hundred years old, but we only came out into the general populace thirty-odd years ago. We… disagreed with the other Umbrum," Andrew answered with a sigh. A flash of light cut him off before he could speak further, and he looked behind the trio and gestured that way with his shadows. "Looks like you found what you were looking for," he said to the figure behind them.

The trio turned around and smiled upon seeing Twilight having returned, amusingly enough with Opalescence on her head. Twilight turned to the three and smiled back. "Are you ready?" she asked, garnering nods from the children. "Okay." She lit her horn, grasped them in her magic, and teleported them to the steel ring of the Aerie, where a collection of royal guards watched the horizon, with the sun starting to set.

With them were Rainbow Dash, Flash Sentry, Blue Crow and his group and their magitek, and the Lieutenant-Generals, eyes poised forward for a bit before everyone turned to the children. Distantly, they could see the Big Magnum disembarking, with the ponies that once dotted her starboard no longer present, perhaps having been squirreled into the Aerie for protection. Soon, the Big Magnum and the sky pirates crested beyond the mountains of the guard posts, and opposite of them, a chariot-like magitek was wheeling away in the rocky terrain.

A portal opened up as soon as the sky pirates and chariot were out of sight, revealing Ponyville waiting beyond it. Discord poked his head out, as Twilight deposited Opal on Sweetie's back. "Well, children, it is time to head home; don't want to keep the class waiting tomorrow, do we~?" Discord chirped.

Matt smiled at the kids, despite wearing dark armor and blood red cloth underneath the half-finished knightly suit, with an intimidating fanged, horned mask on his head. "You got everything squared away?" he asked.

"Sure do!" Apple Bloom said as Twilight teleported off of the steel ring for a moment, before returning with the Crusaders' shiny new magitek gear, still in their boxes.

Matt nodded as Discord wrapped his tail around the boxes. "A'ight. See you around," he said warmly.

"See you around!" the Crusaders chorused, and walked through the portal with Discord hauling in their presents. In seconds, they had returned to Ponyville, with the portal shut behind them. Standing in the middle of the road of the market square was Big Mac, hitched to a wagon and watching with a smile as Apple Bloom ran up to him to hug his leg. Her brother nuzzled her, and chuckled at the cutie mark adorning her body.

"Discord told me y'all completed yer homework, give or take a few things," Big Mac said, smiling as he pulled away. He hugged his sister, then disentangled to plop their boxes of goodies into the wagon, bading the trio to hop aboard. They obliged, and off they were down the road once everypony was situated. "We got dinner at the Acres; figured all three of y'all should spend the night to finish anything else y'all might've missed with that report 'fore school tomorrow," he said as the wagon squeaked along for the ride.

The Crusaders began drooling at the thought of dinner. "And what about my aunts?" Scootaloo asked.

"They're at the Acres too," Big Mac answered, turning his head back just enough to flash the three a warm grin. "Rarity came by through a portal earlier to talk to them; she's got Lyra watching the Boutique in place of that foalsitter."

"That's awesome!" Sweetie chirped. "Lyra's way better than that foalsitter! She can teach me how to master my new harp!"

Big Mac's smile widened. "That's jest what I like to hear," he agreed, picking up his pace. He turned down a street and continued the trek to the Acres; soon enough, the three would have a nice warm dinner to eat, and a nice warm set of sleeping bags to sleep in.

But before they could get to sleep, they had to square away a few things first. They figured they could make it worthwhile.

Seventh Night, Dawn of the Eighth Day—Catching Up

Author's Note

These... have been sitting on the backburner since last year. That said, I do believe I have done all I can with them, even if the ending chapters might be something of a letdown. Sorry for withholding the last three segments for something of a year and a half now.

Seventh Night, Dawn of the Eighth Day—Catching Up

That night, in Apple Bloom's room, the trio added the absolute last finishing touches on their report, making sure to mention that arranged marriages and marriages to secure alliances had been outlawed by the Aerie. Mainly because the Aerie took consent so seriously, that its particularly grouchy residents simply wouldn't tolerate anything else, or so they figured. That, and they made sure to mention it in tandem with the whole sordid business of child brides and how the Aerie punished that particular crime, complete with ION Cannon target practice if the individual performing said practice was vile enough to warrant such overkill.

A few clicks of the stapler to bind the report into its own book, with pictures further stapled in relevant places by their corners only cemented things, and now they could tuck it away in Apple Bloom's writing desk for the morrow. They made sure to bind it between the pages of another book, to keep it hidden in case any dastardly ne'er-do-wells decided to try and get their mitts on it. The fat stack of reference pictures, meanwhile, was tucked away in a spare box, and that box placed into a drawer for safekeeping. Once that was done, they set up their sleeping bags, finished whatever other businesses needed doing, and then hunkered down for the night. Lyra had taken Opalescence back to the Boutique, which the cat certainly seemed to appreciate.

Of course, they wouldn't get to use their new gear right away despite having had it brought with them, which suited them just fine anyway. There would be plenty of time for practice, and school loomed over the horizon once again. For now though, each box had been squirreled away in the corners of the Crusaders' individual rooms in their places of residence, taken by the ponies either living there or keeping tabs on things in the absence of the original owners. But just in case any of their classmates decided to ask before the debut, the adults in charge of the individual areas had agreed to keep the matter a secret for now. And just in case any aforementioned dastardly ne'er-do-wells got their grubby mitts on their goods, Discord made duplicates to keep on his person, should they find themselves a critical report short.

And yet, they couldn't sleep—they were abuzz with excitement. They finished their report. They had their cutie marks. A dastardly foalsitter and a wicked noble had been banished. They got to see their sisters and idol, and their sister and idol's friends. They were home, and ready to tackle tomorrow.

Yet they knew something was gravely wrong, though not necessarily with Equestria. Redpine was due to make its move any day against the Aerie now, but if they could handle Godcat, they could handle a bunch of wannabe tin-pot tyrants, they reasoned. But the fact that most of said wannabes had been in multiple places at once still managed to worry them. Would they be able to replicate the end of the Trials of Attrition on the first day of this new, impending war? Or would it all be for naught?

And not to mention the Canterlot nobility deciding to make diplomacy a bigger pain in the plot, if Twilight's words were any indication. They probably were making their own plans, even now, anticipating the Fantasians like one would anticipate a chess match… except in this instance, they lacked a critical detail. That detail being, the Fantasians didn't play chess; they much preferred kickboxing the other ponies in their faces until they either died or surrendered, whichever came first.

Which, for a planet not particularly known for cutie marks, made sense. That was one advantage the nobility wouldn't have: the element of dropping meteors, giant swords from Tartarus and space lasers on their opposition with particularly poignant precision and impunity. And the Greenwood Blight, even though they were sure Lance was hastily writing a few laws to address the usage of such parasitic plants. And the sky pirates, if the nobles managed to anger them somehow.

The fact that, according to Twilight, some were hoping to get Natalie hitched into their family trees was… laughable. She was about as pure of blood as she was pure of heart; some goodness was in her, but the nobility would be quite cankled to hear she smeared a few ponies' brains across a few walls in her lifetime, and would probably kick unwanted suitors in their beans before the talks of marriage would even see the light of day. She was the type of good that wasn't known for its soft and plushy personality outside of rare moments where professionalism wasn't warranted; she was as cold as steel, when professionalism and duty called her to the forefront of Fantasian antics. And probably as sharp as steel, now that they thought about it.

And compared to most of the nobility, she was practically a kickboxing champion—not ideal bride material, when one tried to adopt the alien mindset of the nobles and come close to dividing by zero in the process. Even now, they could only collectively ask in the backs of their minds: "What in the sweet, sweet Tartarus were the Canterlot nobility thinking?"

Further compounding that issue was Natalie's status as a Lieutenant-General, and of the fact that the Aerie—once again—considered consent as valid and important as Godcat's existence. She'd probably laugh at the nobility's potentially pathetic excuses for marriage proposals first, before beaning them in the beans with her back hooves. They only saw that scenario playing out one way, and it was one where Princess Celestia had the popcorn ready. And maybe Princess Cadence too, considering she was the Princess of Love, something that the nobility might have dismissed as a senseless platitude, a useless immaterial concept fit only for a luxury without benefits.

Or at least, that's what the Crusaders thought of the nobility, after the kerfuffle with ex-Duke Aegis. He did screw up big enough for Celestia to have him hurled to the Aerie's wolves after all, and had a whole heap of evidence stacked against him to boot. The nobility probably wasn't thinking things in the long term, beyond their own senseless self-gratification and the continuation of ancient bloodlines, whose founders might be presently rolling in whatever graves or ash urns they now dwelled in.

But soon, they had to shelve those worries; sleep came calling after all, and would not wait for them to drift off. It dropped on their heads like hammers, and watched with glee as their eyes slipped closed and they snuggled into their sleeping bags. They did remember to set the alarm clock earlier, and were sure it could wake them up in time for the day ahead. And if not, then Big Mac would rouse them from sleep, and nudge them towards breakfast and school.

~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~

The alarm clock sang to announce the start of the day for two of the Crusaders, who yawned and rubbed their eyes as the incessant drone more or less blared in their ears. Apple Bloom was already up, stuffing the report and photos into her saddlebags, grinning giddily as she pranced in place. "Girls, girls, girls! Breakfast is made, and we gotta eat!" she sang, before darting out of the room like her hooves were ablaze. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo trudged out of their sleeping bags with more yawning, though as they left the room and meandered down the stairs, they found themselves awakening faster as they smelled home-cooked food from the kitchen.

By the time they were at the table, they were awake enough to start their day in full. Two extra chairs had been placed for them to sit at, their saddlebags already hanging off of the chairs' backs as they tucked in to hearty stacks of syrupy pancakes and nice, cold orange juice. Granny Smith was at the table, beaming at the three. "Right flashy cutie marks y'all got there," she said in approval. "Didn't think we'd have ourselves an engineer in our family tree," she added, looking pointedly at Apple Bloom.

"Eeyup. And after school, I wanna hear about how y'all got 'em," Big Mac said with a grin of his own. He reached over the table to pat Apple Bloom's head. Apple Bloom giggled, and Big Mac asked, "Didja have a cute-ceañera on Fantasia?"

Apple Bloom nodded. "Ayup. Lance and his ponies and gryphons and changelings was all there, celebrating too," she confirmed.

"Even that scrawny twig of a wraith?" Granny asked.

Apple Bloom nodded again. "Even the wraith," she confirmed. "She got a full tummy pretty quick and had to go to bed earlier than we did." That got some laughter out of the adults attending the table. "That girl can pack away an entire bug as big as she is, and not fall asleep on her hooves."

Granny Smith beamed. "Discord did deliver the General and his lackeys the cider and zap apple jam, right?" she asked.

Apple Bloom nodded once more. "Ayup. The wraith had some herself, and almost passed out in the tankard they gave her," she replied. "She liked it that much."

Granny Smith chuckled. "I don't know nopony… or wraith that can turn down a nice cup o' cider," she said, some amusement in her eyes. "I reckon it even warmed her heart a little." Her grin widened. "Was good to have her help during Cider Season, even if it was jest sortin' apples and plucking zap apples off the trees. Tells ya a lot about some ponies, when they look out for wraiths." Her face radiated like the sun, despite her age. "And as small as she was, good thing the General found her. What's she doing now?"

"Well… she's at least a thousand years old," Sweetie answered, after swallowing a mouthful of pancake. "They used magitek to confirm her age, or at least, a vague estimate, did an autopsy on her to see if anything else was wrong with her, and inducted her in their army. She's gotta get other things squared away before she can begin any assignments, though."

Granny Smith nodded. "A thousand years old, ye say? Surprised she don't speak in old ponish," she noted. "Or whatever other language Fantasia has that's as old as old ponish."

"Well, Fantasian society cast her out years ago, after her hive died. She had nobody else to turn to; for her, it's the army life, or bust," Scootaloo replied, before shoveling in another forkful of the good stuff into her gob.

"And she does know a dead language—she called it Swarm-tongue," Sweetie added. "But every time she speaks it, she has to translate it somehow, or else it'll fly over everyone else's heads." That was punctuated with a sip of her orange juice. "I hope she gets to write a book about Swarm-tongue; it sounds like it would be a great help to bridge the past to the present over in Fantasia."

"Bridge the past…? Why, what happened?" Big Mac asked, concern leaking into his voice.

"Well… there's bad ponies on Fantasia, who were born long ago who basically hurt everyone else on that planet by erasing its history. Only legends and myths exist now, and very little of it is concrete," Sweetie answered unhappily, shaking her head. "They used meaner language to express their anger at that, because they're struggling to find out how the barrier broke, and they're dealing with more idiots than they can shake their airships at."

"And those idiots have schemes big enough, Lance and his military have no choice but to stop them," Scootaloo added, shaking her head as she shoved another piece of fluffy goodness into her mouth. "Which… the Fantasians have also used mean words about."

Big Mac nodded. "Would expect that of military ponies," he said dryly. "Always crass, loud-mouthed… and sometimes hard-headed."

"But that General and his lackeys… I could tell they have good hearts," Granny Smith said, still beaming. "Keeping to themselves or not, they have their heads screwed on righty-tighty and not lefty-loosey. Better them dealing with Fantasia than the hooten-nanny of the prissy Canterlot unicorns who can't tell their frogs from their plots." That made the Crusaders almost snort orange juice out of their noses and onto the tables, but they managed to control themselves in time.

"Oh yeah; while y'all were away, a noble came by and asked ponies 'round Ponyville if they knew where the General and his lackeys went," Big Mac said, frowning. "Said he had important documents to show that red-headed mare."

… oh no. And by Celestia's sunscorched plot, Big Mac sounded dead serious. Apple Bloom frowned at the news. "Whatdidja tell 'em?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Said that I didn't know where they went; where they went was their business and nopony else's," Big Mac said curtly. "That priss snorted and trotted off, muttering something about important documents."

"... if they're trying to marry Natalie off, they should learn that the Aerie doesn't like arranged marriages and marriages for alliances," Scootaloo said, shaking her head. "If that noble shows his face at where the military she helps run resides, she'll launch him to the moon."

"... they'd rather marry fer love, then," Granny Smith surmised. "Jest as good fer them; means they can ignore the plotheads wanting their hooves without lovin' 'em to bits first."

"Ayup. In fact… if they find ponies making child brides, they kill those ponies on the spot," Apple Bloom said, sighing. "And over there on Fantasia, their age of consent is twenty-one; anypony below that line ain't legal to marry."

Granny Smith nodded. "Good attitude to take," she agreed. "I've met a few ponies wantin' child brides back when I was a spry whippersnapper m'self, and I done kicked 'em to the moon fer spoutin' that bunk o' horseapples." She shook her head. "Those ponies never made sense to me, and still don't make sense to me now. Why not jest wait for a grown mare who can make her own decisions?"

"Probably 'cause they don't want their brides making their own decisions," Big Mac said, shaking his head. "Those types of ponies can't handle a grown mare, so they just wanna beat on somepony younger than they are. I done heard some ponies say that some nobles up in Canterlot still do the practice, even if Celestia don't know about it."

"Well that's jest a cryin' shame all 'round," Granny said, glowering. "And if'n them rumors is true, then we might need to rouse all of Equestria's other noble ponies to do something 'bout it."

"But how would we do that? We're just farmfolk; ain't nopony born into money gonna give a rat's plot 'bout what we gotta say," Big Mac replied, sighing before remembering there were children at the table. He looked to the three and opened his mouth, but Apple Bloom cut him off.

"We heard worse on Fantasia; adults over there don't give a lick about ya if you're not part of the sane places," Apple Bloom said, glowering. "In fact, there's more traditionalists than there are ponies wanting to move forward." She wilted a bit. "Ponies did… did horrible things to the General and his Lieutenants on Fantasia, things we can't talk about. But really bad things that got them bitter and angry—angry enough to kill the ponies who wronged them."

Big Mac frowned. He reached over and put a hoof on Apple Bloom's withers. "'s alright if ya can't talk about it; it's military ponies, they always gotta have something be classified, even if'n we don't like it one bit," he said gently. "I take it someone spilled the beans and ya eavesdropped?" At Apple Bloom's sour nod, he reached over for a hug that she reciprocated. "s alright, everypony has to deal with a bonehead from time to time."

Once they pulled away from the hug, Big Mac gestured at the plate of unfinished food. "Y'need to eat 'fore school. Go on, finish up," he said. The Crusaders smiled and tucked in again, eager to fuel up the rest of the way for the day ahead.

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The Crusaders did quick checks to make sure they had the goods before walking into the Ponyville Schoolhouse. Photos? Check. Report? Check. Notes? Check, check, and check. They were locked and loaded, and raring to go.

It was time to do this, their hardened expressions said as they went through those doors alongside the other students, all of whom marched in single file. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon were at the front of the formation of course, being the prissy-pants richie-riches that deserved top spot at the top of the playground slide. But there was one thing they didn't consider about the playground slide: there was one way up, and one way down, and sooner or later someone was going to knock those two down the slide and back into the firm pegs of reality. Ahead of them were the teachers to welcome them back into the grueling curriculum, and ahead of them was the elusive head of the school board, who only had to be there to personally unlock the front doors to let everypony else inside.

Even as she unlocked said doors, she wore a sardonic sneer on her upturned snout that suggested she might have been up to no good, that she might be willing to sow evil today. Such a smirk on such a figure of authority said a lot of things about a sapient, many unpleasant things indeed. The Crusaders were glad that Lance and his cohorts hadn't worn such expressions around them, instead opting for that no-nonsense image that commanded respect and intelligence above all else, save for the rare moments where they got to wear their easygoing smiles, except for when mouthy wraithlings decided to make fun of them for fits and giggles.

The fact that the head of the school board wore the smirk of damnation on her face suggested that maybe she had gotten her authority through… illegitimate means. No matter—the Crusaders ignored it, figuring they would punt that smirk off her stupid face soon enough. The fact that the arrogant mare even made an appearance at all failed to startle them, for they knew that this particular assignment was of utmost importance, and even this priss wouldn't want to miss it for the sister worlds.

Pipsqueak whispered behind them. "Wow—you got your cutie marks?" he asked.

The trio glanced behind themselves to nod in his direction, wearing grins of their own—innocent smiles that now belied the hardened edge in Scootaloo's reply. "As sure as ever," she affirmed proudly, albeit in a whisper to keep the head of the school board off her case. "We'll show them off when we present our project."

Pipsqueak beamed. "That's amazing," he said, almost breathlessly. "I can't wait to see your talents in action." The three grinned and turned ahead, as they were lead down a short hall lined with two doors on either side. Familiar school posters and wooden flooring and brick walls greeted them, and the teachers began to file into the classrooms to start their morning. The head of the school board followed Cheerilee, still wearing that cruel, damning smirk that promised failing grades to anypony who wasn't her progeny. The students split up to follow their teachers, and marched into their seats with saddlebags thunking down next to their desks.

Go-time, the Crusaders said with but a wordless glance between them. Before they could gather themselves, the head of the school board sharply cleared her throat and rapped her hoof upon the desk, garnering the foals' full attention.

"It has come to my attention that you lot have had an assignment on foreign cultures and provinces, and as head of the school board, I will oversee such matters personally to ensure that every detail lines up with what Equestria knows about such areas," she said, her tone commanding respect she hadn't earned. "Likewise, it has also come to my attention that anypony found to have done a report on Fantasian areas will receive extra credit." Most of the class wilted at this, save for Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon.

The fact those two bullies hadn't wilted suggested some bad news, but the Crusaders remained firm in their resolution, eager to see this through. They did wilt, but it was more of a show to deflect suspicion than anything else. If there was anything they had learned from Fantasia's changelings, it was that appearances could very well deceive—a harsh lesson they had learned when Rubywing revealed her true self to them, followed in relatively short order by three of her superiors.

"As such," the head of the school board went on, her smirk still on full display, "those found to be fabricating anything regarding Fantasia's provinces will have their assignments docked for full marks, on top of having to retake the assignment until they get the details right." The class collectively balked at this; even the trio found their hearts freezing for a moment before they remembered that they had this assignment in the bag. "However," she continued, her smirk widening to a sickening degree, "as I understand it… nopony's been able to head for Fantasia properly to assess their provinces, so that extra credit is null and void anyway."

Nope. The Crusaders internally squealed, but seized control to outwardly groan and keep their excitement tucked away until it was their time to shine. They briefly looked in their desks; in the small cubbies, unnoticed by classmates and teachers alike, were the enchanted jars keeping their samples from the slime ranch, tucked away carefully behind books to avoid suspicion. They also had some bits they didn't recognize squirreled away in there, with stylized engravings—with a little note reading, "Got you three some Fantasian currency and your ranch samples to go with it; call them your lucky break for this shiding~! Your darling, dashing, dastardly-for-good Uncle Dissy~" It seemed Discord did them another solid when they weren't looking.

They turned their attention back to the supreme priss, who droned on without noticing that their gaze had briefly flicked away from her, "After all… it's not like any of you could have afforded an airship's travel to and from the sister world…" Her sneer turned cruel as she spoke her next words, "since you're just a bunch of poor foals, and you probably couldn't afford an hour's worth of airship travel off of your barely-touched piggybanks."

True, but the Crusaders had tricks up their nonexistent sleeves. They kept their eyes glued to the madmare, waiting for her to notice her lack of a shovel as she dug herself towards Mythos' core. "I will now defer the proceedings of this assignment to Miss Cheerilee." She nodded at the teacher in question, who stepped forward and took her place behind the desk. "Go on, initiate roll call." Roll call was a simple affair, and over within a matter of moments, not that the mare with more bits than sense would care in the slightest about the other foals. Still, better to make sure the whole class was accounted for, than not at all, especially when the head of the school board was breathing down their favorite teacher's neck over it.

"Now then… with that paltry drab out of the way, let us begin with the assignment," the head of the school board said, nodding to Cheerilee before moving to the door of the classroom, solely to stand next to it and have a better vantage point to oversee the entire shooting match.

Cheerilee nodded, wearing a warm smile on her face as she gestured to the spot before her desk, the one space clear enough that the whole class could see the speaker. "Diamond Tiara, Silver Spoon, please step forward with your project," she intoned with a warm, inviting voice—one that might not have suspected any foul play abound. The bullies grinned, scooped up their saddlebags, and moved from their seats to trot to the center stage, pulling out papers and photographs of their own.

"Unlike most of you, we were able to afford airship travel to Fantasia," Diamond said, a wicked glint in her eyes. Uh-oh, now the Crusaders knew that something was definitely up. "And we're doing a report on it. More specifically, the region of Aeris Maleficarum." That… sounded made-up, almost as though she were pulling this one out from under her tail. As far as they knew, save for a few regions their military chaperones didn't enlighten them about, Fantasia's provinces followed a color-based theme in their naming convention… at least, for the areas they knew about thanks to the military actively talking about those areas.

Still, they swallowed their pride, waiting to see what Diamond Tiara would pull off this time. After all, a particularly evil-sounding name invited nothing but trouble, and Aeris Maleficarum was as evil as they could come. "Aeris Maleficarum is an area in southern Fantasia, located deep on the southernmost continent and controlled almost entirely by cave ponies who have to mine away for the food and rocks they eat," Diamond began, before rattling off the first chapter of her report, and showing off scribbled illustrations that looked like a preschooler had done them.

The first chapter… they tried hard, so very, very hard to tune out, but couldn't due to how wrong it was. It got so many things wrong about Fantasia, that they were surprised it even mentioned five main continents on the planet at all, albeit arranged and shaped differently from what they had seen out their classroom window. The second chapter of Diamond's report was even worse; most of the class was glued to the project, hanging off of Diamond's every word, but the trio themselves were almost bored to tears. The economy section basically consisted of, and this was forever burned into their memory, "the cave ponies use fancy gemstones as currency, and the more gems they have the richer they get."

The third chapter was less about the culture of Aeris Maleficarum, and more about making fun of the place, almost as though Diamond knew she was cheating and didn't give a rat's plot about it. Almost as though she knew what a load of horseapples her report was. What wasn't helping matters was that her mother stood at the door, nodding and smiling in approval like some kind of Dark Lord wannabe. Unbeknownst to her, the leader of Fantasia's military, despite his shapeshifting, taloned empire being sequestered on Fantasia at the moment, would have probably ripped her head off in the verbal sense, just for allowing this kind of bunk to be spread about him—assuming, of course, that Diamond Tiara was actively, and unquestioningly, making fun of said leader.

Which… truth be told, the Crusaders had expected someone of the class to do at this rate, as a substitute for not actually managing to go onto Fantasia to begin with. Unfair though it was, they recognized that their own sheathed advantage was also on that very same scale, despite being legitimate otherwise. Not that Diamond knew yet, but she would know and despair once the trio's turn came.

In the meantime, they had to listen to her bunk either way—not like they had a choice, with the head of the school board blocking the door. They were surprised she put so many words into her report; they had expected her to just speedwrite the entire thing and be done with it in a single sitting. Then again, Mommy Dearest probably discouraged that, probably so her progeny could sound more convincing to anypony who wasn't the Crusaders… and that was generously assuming that Mommy Dearest herself hadn't penned the whole thing herself to help her daughter ace the assignment.

If any at the Aerie had heard this report, they'd have pitched several fits, and then would have probably called for some form of punishment to be levied against the idiot parent who enabled the bunk to begin with. It was fortunate they weren't here to listen to the fantastibad report that was Diamond Tiara's attempt at playing out a power trip fantasy with a make-believe province.

The fourth and fifth chapters were mercifully short, consisting only of the cuisine of this supposed place, and the footnotes and references. The cuisine part consisted only of rocks and whatever imaginary monsters lurked in the caves of the equally-made-up Aeris Maleficarum, and no vegetables whatsoever. It was almost like Diamond Tiara wanted to make the supposed caveponies as monstrous as possible, even though they hadn't crossed any objectionable lines in her report. The references were equally interesting, and said thusly: "Ancient cavern glyphs, made by the chieftains of old, written testimony by Chieftain Meathock, written testimony by Rock-Gatherer Shadow Quartz, and written testimony by Rock-Carver Jewel." …which, when rattled off, sounded like a load of bunk to anypony reading in between the lines.

Still, as Diamond concluded her project, Cheerilee clapped alongside most of the class. For posterity's sake, Scootaloo and her friends did so as well, more to keep the heat away from them until it was time to act. "Well done, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon!" Cheerilee said, her grin widening obliviously. "Does the class have any questions?"

Pipsqueak rose his hoof. "How come the cave ponies of Aeris Malifecarum eat rocks?"

"They evolved to do so after a thousand years, and the rocks became very nutritious," Diamond explained, still wearing her proud smirk.

Snips raised his hoof. "How come the cave ponies settled into the cave to begin with?" he asked. "And do they have cutie marks?"

"They were exiled from their former homelands. As for cutie marks, every mark there pertained to mining some kind of gemstone," Diamond answered with a roll of the eyes, almost as though she thought she had this in the bag. By Godcat's dark half, she couldn't write her way out of a wet paper bag if she tried at this rate.

Snails raised his hoof. "And what about those who didn't get mining-based cutie marks?"

Diamond's grin widened. "They were exiled in the wilds beyond the caves, to die slowly and painfully," she answered, with oblivious cheer.

Cheerilee stamped a hoof on the desk to get the class's attention. She briefly consulted a list on her desk and said, "Now, take your seats, and make room for Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Apple Bloom!"

The bullies snickered, and plunked their butts down in their chairs, exchanging a high five on the way back. The Crusaders got their goods, and made sure to discreetly put the slime jars and foreign currency into their saddlebags before marching up to the stage. The class focused on them, seemed to notice their marks, but opted to not say anything.

Showtime.

The three turned to the class, wearing innocent grins. "We've also done a report on Fantasia," they announced in unison, causing Diamond Tiara to jump up from her seat and slam her hoof on her desk.

"H-how?!" Diamond roared. "You're nothing but a bunch of blank…" she trailed off as the trio flashed their cutie marks in her direction, daring her to finish the sentence.

"Not anymore we ain't," Apple Bloom said proudly. "In fact… our marks were obtained in Fantasia, more specifically the province we're covering."

"Oh, really?" Diamond rolled her eyes so hard and so fast it was a miracle they didn't dislocate out of her skull. She waved a hoof dramatically. "And what province is that?"

The trio's grins widened. "Irongrey Aerie," they chorused. They dared not call Diamond out on her load of bunk; their report would prove it soon enough as they flipped open their saddlebags and pulled out their bona fide goods, the report thick and meaty enough to have required multiple staples just to stick together.

"In fact, we should warn you guys—our report contains a few nasty topics, mainly centered around a bit of history before the Aerie and how it formed afterwards," Sweetie said gravely. "So we'll give you a moment to prepare yourselves before we dive in." The class, and Cheerilee, sucked in a deep breath, fortifying themselves for grisly times ahead. The head of the school board rolled her eyes, but elected to say nothing yet, thinking she would be able to stop this report dead in its tracks once it was over.

How wrong she was, so very, very wrong. Better to let her have this moment to herself, before it came crashing down around her ears. "Y'all ready?" Apple Bloom asked, garnering a collective nod from the class, and a snort from the bullies.

"As if anything is worse than Aeris Maleficarum," Diamond hissed, grinning and sneering as she dared her favorite targets to bring it.

"Alright then," Apple Bloom began, and flipped open the report onto the first chapter. "Don't say we didn't warn y'all."

Epilogue, Part I—Showtime

Apple Bloom cleared her throat. "Chapter one: Before the Aerie: Ragnarok, Hellfire, and Catastrophe," she intoned, her face and voice shifting to turn a particular shade of grim as she began to rattle off the first chapter of the goods. "Not many ponies outside of Equestria have dismal tales regarding their cutie marks, and if they do, it's usually kept under tight wraps. Indeed, it seems the opposite holds true of Fantasia: whatever cutie marks appear there always have something bleak regarding them, whether misused or, in some cases, completely catastrophic wherever applied. For this reason, not many who are from Fantasia are willing to share their cutie mark stories, for the fear of being persecuted."

"The persecution of cutie marks went above and beyond in Fantasia for uncounted years and years, to the extent that those who obtained them were essentially marked for death. How they killed off ponies who obtained their marks was through a series of gladiator 'games,' pitting anypony with cutie marks against one another in gruesome battles that did nothing else but entertain those who wanted to see cutie marks purged. Not even foals were safe—many lost their lives, scared, traumatized, and scarred by the 'games' in their last moments."

"This type of cutie mark persecution only ended ten years ago, when the architects of the gladiator 'games' met their match after foalnapping the wrong ponies. Only three unicorn foals were left at the end of this batch of 'games,' each given a weapon and told that only one would be able to trot away. The foals didn't have their cutie marks yet, but were taken simply for the crime of crusading for them."

"The foals threw down their weapons, and were then cornered by adults who moved in to cut their lives short. When the adults grabbed the foals, the foals' horns lit up—and a magic surge unlike any before erupted from the three. A portal in the sky opened up, bringing forth giant weapons of darkness and shadow, cast in a crimson light and the massive meteor-sized flames of raw magic that orbited them."

Apple Bloom paused to flash illustrations to the class, showing off the swords and meteors wrought from Tartarus. Below them were felled ponies, burnt and slashed, against the backdrop of a stadium full of ponies looking up to behold the terrifying tableau in full. The class shuddered at the imagery, eyes glued onto them as they were allowed to take a moment to picture the horrifying event as it played out in their heads. Diamond and Silver Spoon had dropped jaws and wide eyes.

Good. Those two saying nothing was a promising sign, and even better, the head of the school board didn't deign fit to speak. They continued to let their ball roll, wanting to take it to its conclusion.

"The crowd who wanted to purge cutie marks stopped their chanting and looked up, before mass panic overtook them. They tried to run away, as the architects were trying to kill the unicorn foals, and all failed miserably. The swords and flames rained down on everypony who tried to hurt the foals, destroying and altering the landscape around the stadium, as well as the stadium itself. This would later be known as the 'Royale Catastrophe,' an event that only the foals who had the magic surge would be able to walk away from."

"But things would grow worse for the three foals, now dubbed the Children of Catastrophe. Word seemed to spread faster than they could trot, and towns turned them away, chasing them out simply for the crime of obtaining their cutie marks. Driven out of Fantasian society, and hounded by ponies who wanted them dead, the Children could only hide in the shadows, stealing what they could and sometimes what they couldn't in order to survive."

Here, Apple Bloom flashed another illustration as she turned the page, of shadow-bound ponies stealing from a shop, with the oblivious shopkeeper not noticing anything was wrong as the shadows plucked the bare necessities from his shelves. This picture had been done in two parts; the first had the shopkeeper with his back turned to the crime in progress, and the second had him turning around just as the shadows retracted under a window pane, and noticing a few wares were gone before he realized he was helpless to stop the theft.

"But the casualties mounted, and despite their pleas falling on deaf ears, the Children marched on, skipping towns and provinces so many times, ponies began to wonder how they were able to make their thefts at all. Some devised traps in their stores, hoping to bait them and catch them in the act, but the Children were smart—smarter than everypony gave them credit for. Worsening things for them was that the Children only took the bare necessities to survive in the wilds for days on end, and no further, opting to hunt for their food otherwise."

"Then, as the number of ponies they had to kill dwindled, and the killings themselves spaced out between weeks and then months, the Children caught a curious rumor. In a province to the east, they heard tales of a maddened cult trying to revive an alicorn of yore, potentially one that had survived the even more ancient and fabled war between Faust and Godcat. Investigating these rumors, and using the shadows to their advantage, they soon found the cult's stronghold and prepared to infiltrate."

"Cultists stood in their way, and the Children were resolute. The cult attacked first, giving them the leeway to murder them in self-defense as they saw fit. A curious detail emerged as they fought the cultists; they were wearing long wigs, and sported strangely-misshapen muscles, in imitation of the alicorn they had chosen to worship. The fights were tiring, and being but teenagers, the Children knew they couldn't carry out a prolonged fight even if the deck was stacked in their favor, but they pressed on, unsure of what this alicorn would bring to Fantasia if revived."

"The results… were disappointing. The Children managed to disrupt the ritual, and in the process, almost prevented the alicorn from coming back. But he tore his way out of the afterlife, carrying a sword and sporting… many things wrong with him. For starters, he had no lower jaw, and bugs were crawling in him. For another, his wings were stubs, grounding him to the floor. Third, his speech was slurred, as a result of the missing jaw."

Apple Bloom paused once more to flash the illustration of the mangled bastard in question, causing the class to collectively wince and gag at the drawing. They also shuddered in fear, wondering how such a pony could return to the realm of the living in such a miserable state. Letting them soak it in, she waited for the class to calm down before turning the booklet back towards herself to continue reading.

"Needless to say, it took many, many attempts for the Children to understand what the alicorn was trying to say. His goals didn't surprise them any: world domination, mass bloodshed, and other similar workings they had found back at the colosseum on that fateful day. Laughing their heads off at the alicorn, even as they took up fighting stances, they decided to take an unusual approach to this fight: they were going to have some fun with it. It all started when one of the Children, the only filly of the group, made fun of his obscenely long mane and told him he looked like he couldn't walk three body lengths without tripping over it."

"Then, they started teasing him further, and before long he made his retaliation known. However, the Children had tricks up their sleeves, using the shadows of the room they stood in to dodge the attacks. All the while, they began making fun of his slurred speech, his missing wings, and even his goals, gradually riling up their enemy into making more and more reckless mistakes that would eventually cost him the battle. It wasn't long before his sword was pilfered from him, and tucked away in the shadows of his adversaries, so he resorted to magical blasts and punches to try and kill his opponents."

"Eventually, the mangled alicorn made a critical mistake—he let himself get too angry. As the Children moved to make the death blow, he channeled the last of himself into an attack that he hoped would end the pesky foals who dared to challenge him. The attack was halted, but in the process, he exploded—a magical explosion, and one violent enough to not only shred the cult's stronghold along with him, but send the Children flying across at least half of Fantasia doing it. It was a good bit of time before they landed, and the budding mare remembered to light her horn in time, but she had cut it close with her save—the Children still had to deal with broken legs and mana drain afterwards, and it was very fortunate that they had landed in a friendly kingdom of cats that tended to their wounds."

"But they knew… it wouldn't be over yet. It would only be the beginning of their adventures across Fantasia. They did not know it yet, but the stage had been set for an even bigger catastrophe to take place, one looming over Fantasia's horizon," Apple Bloom concluded the first chapter, before handing off the report to Scootaloo. Scootaloo glanced at the beginning of the second chapter, nodded to herself, and looked towards the rest of the class.

All eyes were still on the stage. Excellent. Furthermore, the first page of the second chapter had been edited by one of her friends, largely to keep the flow of the report buttery-smooth. Very good thing they had used pencils instead of ink for the task—made erasing and editing so much smoother. She took her turn rattling off the second chapter, showing illustrations of Fantasia's map, the fearsome magitek the Children faced, and the deadly Valkyrie being attended to by the silhouette of the insane pegasus when she reached those sections.

So far, so good. Nopony dared to interject yet. Scootaloo nodded, and passed the report to Sweetie Belle, who cleared her throat and moved on to the third chapter of the report.

"Chapter three: The Promise of Friendship: What The Aerie Is Like Now. Built on the dreams of changelings, gryphons, and the Children of Catastrophe, the Aerie represents what could happen to Fantasia if they let their hatred of cutie marks go—what Fantasia could be like, if everyone let racism go. It represents the melding of cultures once thought incompatible, and spearheaded by those who wish to see the mistakes of the past linger no longer."

"As a result, despite being military-oriented, the Aerie is pretty friendly… so long as you show them basic decency. As a result of their jaded attitude towards most of Fantasia, they're willing to offer you respect if you have actually earned it, rather than walk in and simply demand respect. They are a very opinionated military—every member, from the General down to the lowest-ranking Private, has something on their minds, and will comment about it, no matter what it is. They aren't exactly known for sugarcoating their words, except when dealing with creatures so stupid, that they have to use their words in a very specific way to get said stupid creatures simply to understand them." That got a brief round of laughter out of the class.

"As expected of a crass military," the head of the school board said, still wearing her sardonic sneer. "They think they can demand respect, and most have not earned it." Right for the wrong reasons, but the Crusaders chose to ignore her and her tiny peanut gallery for now.

"However, there are some things the Aerie holds in great and murderous contempt, to such a degree that those practicing the things they hold in said murderous contempt automatically have a kill-on-sight order issued wherever they are found. In which case, they are hostile to those performing the particular practices, and will remain so until they can cremate the being that managed to spark their anger. Fortunately for Fantasia, the truly contemptible seem to be few and far in between, and they are willing to extend mercy to those who truly had no choice in the grand scheme of things—and are even willing to take in ponies from other provinces if they have nowhere else to turn to."

"Furthermore, they are open to diplomacy—very willing, in fact, to practice it. However, not many on Fantasia share the same ideas, and actively seek to bring the Aerie down one way or another. All attempts so far have failed, thanks to the work of their numerous guard posts, scattered around the main base and all hidden within the mountain ranges, guarded by gates and magitek embedded with crystals maintaining carefully-crafted illusions. Everything that arrives at the Aerie must go through the one hundred guard posts first, and while there are ways to skip that step, they aren't really advisable to do so."

The Pristine President of Planet Prissy-Pants rolled her eyes. The Crusaders inwardly snickered as they came up with that name in their heads; perhaps Fantasia rubbed off on them a bit too much. Regardless, they were going to have loads of fun coming up and using creative names for the incompetent head of the school board in the future. "But maybe they should let themselves be invaded… let themselves succumb to ponies with proper mindsets," she mumbled to herself. That got a snicker out of Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, but other than that, she kept her trap shut.

"As for how the changelings gather love without harming any sapients at the Aerie, they have a slime ranch that lets them harvest love without feeding from others. Slimes produce love, and are functionally immortal, which is an important feature to have when changelings regularly feed on you. The love produced by the slimes is practically endless, and the changelings have such an excess of it that they can afford to eat solid food at the Aerie."

Sweetie Belle paused to fish out some of the samples from the slime ranch; the silty goo from Big Bertha sparkled in the sun's rays, while the sample from the ice slimes had icicles formed on its bottom that hadn't melted despite the slushy texture of the goods therein. The class ooh-ed, and Sweetie put the samples back into her saddlebags for later.

"The gryphons of the Aerie, meanwhile, focus more on the magitek, though sometimes they have to call the changelings over to enchant certain items. Many gryphons are engineers, and some pilot their own airships and planes. Those who aren't engineers focus more on helping the changelings maintain other functions of the Aerie, such as the cargo bays, the city at the top of the hive-nest, and the various hangars within the mountain they call home." She turned the booklet to flash an illustration of the mighty hive-nest, complete with the steel ring adorning its middle, with doors and huge walkways anchored to the mountain itself to let the airships come in and out as they pleased.

"The General and his Lieutenant-Generals are, outside of work, fairly easygoing ponies who prefer to relax in whatever little bits of spare time they have. However, inside of work, they are stern, curt, and not willing to sugarcoat any words—and in combat, they are fearsome, personally leading the charge into whatever battle has summoned them to the heart of any issue they tackle. They prefer not to sit around in offices, but would rather see battles through themselves than to let the lower ranks do so in their stead. They consider every soldier of every rank and file valuable, consider every soldier a friend to the bitter end, and a life lost is a life mourned."

The Pristine President of Planet Prissy-Pants snickered as she rolled her eyes yet again. "They don't see the lower grunts as the worthless automatons they truly are? Color me shocked," she snarked, still grinning horribly. "It seems the General and his lackeys haven't learned that bits are power, that money is everything." So sayeth the mare sorely lacking in common sense. The class collectively groaned at that, but a death glare from the Noose of Noveau Not-Niceness had the protests silenced before they could begin. No matter, the Crusaders had plenty of ammunition to shut the S.S. Sullied Saint Sanctimonious down, and they were going to unload every cartridge with the effort.

"The military of the Aerie also is… highly adverse to ponies and other sapients displaying worrying amounts of lethal stupidity, so much so that if they don't kill those sapients on the spot, they just let their own bungling stupidity do them in first. In fact, they tolerate idiots as much as they do illegal dark magics—which is to say, not at all, as more than half of the army has been victimized by such magic and idiots, and watch with glee every time an idiot is put in their place. And on Fantasia, that usually means the ground or an ash urn." That got the class laughing, albeit weakly. Still, out of the corner of their eyes, the trio saw the head of the school board glowering slightly, even starting to grind her teeth just an eentsy bit.

Diamond decided to interject. "Idiots, as in, you three, or Snips and Snails?" she quipped, though her joke caused half the class to glare at her, even if only without turning their heads in her direction.

The trio regarded Diamond Tiara with a flat look. "No, idiots as in those who want to kill ponies simply for getting their cutie marks, or practicing illegal magics, or trying to summon murderous gods to kill everybody," they said in unison.

"Y'know, the type to do illegal stuff anyway?" Apple Bloom proffered. "Like I dunno…" She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Geas magic?" The class gasped at the mere mention. Cheerilee and the head of the school board shuddered, wondering if they had prodded a sleeping bear of some kind.

"Th-there are Fantasians who would still… do that?!" Pipsqueak asked, trembling in his seat.

Apple Bloom nodded firmly. "And the Aerie's military don't tolerate it at all. They're gonna put a stop to that buck," she said, confidence oozing into her words. Fortunately, this caused the class to relax, allowing them to carry on with their assignment.

Sweetie nodded, and passed the report back to Apple Bloom, who rattled off about the economy of the Fantasian military. This section bored the class, but not to the point of sleep, and mercifully it was short and concise, and without the excess jargon that economics classes were known for. They made sure to mention that the Aerie used bits just like Equestria, albeit with their bits a bit more stylized to fit their needs, emblazoned with a ranking system just like the military that modeled it.

They dug around in their saddlebags for a bit, and procured the bits they found in their desks, with the cheapest bearing a stylized bust of a changeling and a one-cent mark, the second-cheapest bearing a stylized gryphon bust with a ten-cent mark, and so forth. It was a simple, easy-to-follow system, and the trio inwardly hoped that one day, there could be an exchange rate between Fantasian military bits and standard Equestrian bits. Once the class was done ooh-ing and aah-ing at the foreign currency, the Crusaders squirreled them away before the Pristine President could get any ideas swimming in her head.

Once that was done, the report was passed off to Scootaloo, who gleefully took it in her hooves to start off the next section, "Chapter five: The Culture Of A Fantasian Military. Despite outward appearances, the Aerie is very open about its culture, which clashes with the rest of Fantasia at large. Where the rest of Fantasia shuns cutie marks, the Aerie collectively nods and says 'fair enough,' even throwing cute-ceañeras if a pony obtains a mark in their borders and wishes for such a celebration of the event."

The trio paused to gesture at their cutie marks, grinning as they showed them off for the entire class. "In fact, they threw one for us once we got these," Sweetie said, pride in her voice. She gestured specifically to the harp of her mark. "I'm a musical pony~" she sang, unable to contain her glee at the prospect.

Scootaloo flapped her wings once, careful to not disrupt the contents of her saddlebags with them as she pointed to the lightning bolt. "When I can fly, I hit things with the force of a lightning strike," she said proudly.

Apple Bloom gestured to her wrench, and then the apple-shaped crystal slotted into it. "I'm a magitek expert," she chirped, the glee shining in her eyes.

Diamond rolled her eyes once more. Somehow, they weren't smoking or leaving skid marks in her sockets. "And how'd you three do that, get into things you weren't supposed to?" she said, malicious glee sparkling in her eyes as she thought up new ways to humiliate her favorite targets. So what if they were no longer blank flanks? As far as she was concerned, they just opened up a whole new avenue of torment now that they had earned their cutie marks.

Scootaloo grinned. "We'll tell you when we get to that section of our report, or perhaps after it," she said. She had a dark gleam in her eyes as she saw Diamond's machinations brewing in her own set of purple pools, and thought up ways to prepare her counterattacks before those attempts could even get off the ground.

"Mainly, despite all of the soldiers having been more or less unwilling for the Trials of Attrition, the soldiers choose to stay in their employment, though they branch out to other functions to maintain the day-to-day life of the Aerie. In fact, almost all of the soldiers, from the lowest-ranking Private to the fierce General himself, have side-hobbies they engage in when off the clock. For some, it is engaging in tea parties with members of their specific squadrons, and discussing magitek; for others, it is crafting instruments out of natural ingredients such as wood and vines. For the Lieutenant-Generals, it is sparring sessions between the three of them, complete with brushing up on their magics to hone themselves for future combat. Sometimes the General joins in, and other times he doesn't."

"In fact, the most important thing in the Aerie's culture, besides unity, is the freedom to choose—the freedom to forge your own path, choose how far you go, and what crossroads you take. Any path within the military, or beyond it, is entirely of one's choosing regardless of whether they enlist or not. They do not like the idea of child soldiers—in fact, they balk at it—but recognize that on Fantasia, some children simply have nobody else to turn to. Even then, they emphasize the importance of childhood, and do their best to keep whatever few children and teenagers that wind up in their ranks away from the bloodshed until they're certain they are truly ready for combat."

"As a result of their leaders being castoffs of Fantasian society, the Aerie unfortunately comes upon many such cases of children with nobody else to turn to, those cast out of towns and villages simply for clinging to the dream of one day obtaining their own cutie marks and making a name for themselves in the world. Other children, unfortunately, flee from horrific situations—being forced into marriages with older stallions, or fleeing from otherwise certain death, their tragic tales always incentivising the Aerie to hunt down those responsible for hurting those poor children, and slaying them where they stand."

The class shuddered. Even Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon looked pale at the mere mention of the sordid practice. "Ch-child brides…? Fantasia… has that problem…?" Pipsqueak stammered, unable to wrap his mind around it.

Scootaloo gravely nodded. "The Fantasians didn't say that to us outright, but… we read between the lines with everything we learned over there," she said. She allowed the class a moment to calm themselves down and remember that such sordid atrocities would not happen to them in Equestria if Celestia could help it, and then sucked in a breath to steel her own nerves and continue.

"While the Aerie does favor freedom as one of its core virtues, they recognize that even it has hard limits if they want society to function. As a result of Fantasia's many failings, they have made the age of consent in their section of their world a solid twenty-one years of age, based on a changeling's final molt before they reach full adulthood. In addition, arranged marriages, marriages to secure alliances, and any marriage involving a child who cannot consent are illegal in their territory, punishable by the highest sanctions that call for the gelding, death, and cremation of the guilty party, and not necessarily in that order."

"I'm sorry if I sound rude, but… does the Aerie have fair trials?" Cheerilee asked.

Scootaloo turned to her teacher and sadly shook her head. "No, because over on Fantasia, the guilty always leaves… evidence behind," she said. "And heaps of it, enough for them to be able to skip the trial entirely."

Cheerilee nodded, despite the fact that she was unhappy with what she was hearing. "Very well then… no further objections," she said dejectedly.

Scootaloo nodded, and continued. "As a result of being extremely repulsed by the idiocy that has infected the rest of Fantasia, much of Fantasia doesn't like them for daring to challenge that idiocy. In addition to marriages where consent doesn't exist, they have also made forbidden dark magic, including geases, very, very illegal, due to the gryphon population being affected by it during the Trials of Attrition. As with forced marriages, anyone practicing such arts will usually get the axe on their necks, especially if found engaging in said arts right in the middle of a deadly ritual or equivalent. The victims of the dark magic are not blamed, and are generally cured and treated wherever found."

"In addition, the Aerie is young enough that it effectively has not formed any traditions of its own yet, being only around eight years old, give or take a few months. However, they clash with more traditionalist societies, especially ones that practice things which gets its military to kill the practitioners thereof on sight. The closest equivalent would be the Lonesome March, a funerary service for Fantasia's forgotten castoffs that did not live long enough to make it to the Aerie. They undertake the March yearly, because otherwise, the forgotten would come back as vengeful wraiths, and be unable to go back to the afterlife afterwards."

Scootaloo paused to look at her classmates again. Her expression turned somber. "We… we've seen the Lonesome March in action," she said somberly. "It… is not a happy affair." She flipped the booklet around to show off the illustration of a crying, winged statue of a foal with a red X scored over his cutie mark. The illustration captured the fear of the last moments that foal had spent living in, and the class shuddered even as pity flashed in their eyes.

The only one who didn't get the memo yet rolled her eyes and shook her head, her perpetually-upturned snout sniffing loftily. "Well, perhaps it is better that the forgotten died," she said menacingly, without an iota of remorse. "That's what they get for not being rich and important." While they did take issue with the ignoramus disrespecting Fantasia's lost and forgotten members of its societies, they knew that fighting an adult would not go so well with their education, even if said adult has as much fighting experience as an earthworm. Thus, the Crusaders chose to ignore the one-mare peanut gallery, and flipped their report back around to continue.

Helping the head of the school board's case was that technically, the deceased weren't around to hear her disrespecting them… or maybe they were, but Godcat might have told them to stay their hooves and claws. The Crusaders weren't sure, but they could've sworn they heard leonine growling in the distance. They shrugged it off and continued with their report.

"Due to changelings making up a majority of the Aerie's population, and the gryphons most of the remainder, they value love almost as much as they do their freedom—the love for one another, their city-state, and their former enemies as fellow soldiers and friends. As a result, racism at the Aerie is strictly outlawed, with any offenders either being given the boot out of their lands, or a one-way trip to the Iron Hold… at least, until they can figure out something more appropriate for the racists in question. As a result of a current lack of a court system, there are no trials for racists, or anyone found committing crimes they murderously despise, but there is hope that this will change in the future."

"The old gryphon leaders, who have become undead after the Trials of Attrition, are currently in the Iron Hold, kept in solitary confinement and with cells that won't let any sound out to keep their racist platitudes to themselves. As for any changeling royalty, there isn't any, due to the royalty having been wiped out at the beginning of the Trials of Attrition. Presumably, they were as racist as the old gryphon leaders… and paid dearly for their incompetence."

"As another result of their anti-racism stance, they've taken in more… unusual members as of late. There have been confirmed a hippogryph soldier, two crystal ponies, a diamond dog, and a wraith who wishes to remain anonymous as of this report. Despite most wraiths being hostile to the Aerie, those who can set aside their hatred and despair are welcome warmly at the Aerie, despite being few in number. While those numbers are small, perhaps they can grow in time, if more and more creatures on Fantasia choose to set aside pre-established traditions and mindsets and go against the grain."

"As for the Aerie's religion… they presently do not have one. However, they are 'Godcat-aligned,' meaning they do not actively worship Her or Faust… but take Their existences very seriously. This is due to the General and his Lieutenants and Colonel moving in to stop Godcat when She was awoken and unsealed, and restoring Her to Her senses in combat. Currently, as of this report, Faust remains at large… but if She too is unsealed, the Aerie will make every effort possible to deal with Her just the same."

The Perpetually-Upturned Nosey Judge of Bad Perfumes sniffed loftily again. "A military, besting gods in combat?" Her eye began to twitch at the mere thought. "Never before have I heard such rubbish… but do continue, girls. It would be a shame if you didn't get to finish." The Crusaders nodded, and didn't balk, gulp, or shudder, for they had more ammunition yet, and the artillery shells were begging to be fired. She would have smiled at their seeming foolishness… had she not realized that they weren't afraid of her at that moment. Her teeth started to grind at the thought, the dawning realization that she hadn't intimidated these fillies.

Diamond's eyes widened, and flicked back and forth between her parent and her favorite targets. She knew, instantly, her mother's emerging war face, and realized something was up. The Crusaders just smiled innocently, and for the first time, she noticed the very damning glint in their eyes as they said, in unison, "Gladly."

They had just one last section to wrap up anyway in this chapter. "The changelings of the Aerie have, obviously, bug-themed names, and the gryphons' naming convention is all over the place. The ponies of the Aerie have a phenomenon that allows them to see glimpses of the future of their foals as they go into labor, similar to Equestira, but because of a lack of cutie marks, they have adopted a strange naming system. The first names are either assigned by a parent, and rarely, full names, and other times the ponies just give themselves a last name if they obtain their cutie mark. Rarer still, a pony gives themselves a full legal name to go by, on the grounds that they hadn't been assigned one before to begin with. Some gryphons will also adopt equine-sounding names, and form squadrons within the Aerie, acting as special ops of sorts."

"As a result, Fantasian ponies… have weird-sounding names, many whose first names seem to lack any meaning to any Equestrian that hears them. In conjunction with their last names, it sounds even weirder, as the last names are typically molded after whatever cutie marks they have. There are cases where a pony's name does not match their mark if they have one, due to pre-existing circumstances. However, in all cases, a Fantasian pony's name will be indicative of any characteristics they have just the same—it just takes a bit of guesswork for the name to make sense, once an Equestrian hears it."

Diamond rolled her eyes. How her eyes hadn't gone into orbit yet, the trio could only wonder. "Like, I dunno, Micheal Hay?" she said, spinning a hoof in the air.

The Crusaders shook their heads. "No, like Red Barrel as a name," they said in unison.

"Pft, whatever, still stupid-sounding," Diamond stated nochalantly, grinning horribly.

"I agree with my daughter; the Fantasian naming conventions leave much to be desired." The perpetually-upturned snout managed to rise even higher with the horrible sneer that decorated the head of the school board's face. "Well? Are you going to finish with this stupid balderdash?" she asked, as if in a challenge.

The Crusaders nodded, and readied the next shells in their artillery fire. So they steeled themselves, moving on to the next chapters of their report, reading them to the class, and showing off illustrations and photographs along the way. The first photograph provoked an interesting reaction from Diamond Tiara. "Wait—how did you—when did you—" was all she could manage, as the photograph showed the Aerie in its entirety.

The Crusaders kept their grins. "The Lieutenant-Generals have a camera," Apple Bloom answered.

"How—" Diamond stammered, going bug-eyed. "This—"

"That's so cool! Irongrey Aerie has technology similar to ours?" Pipsqueak asked, awed as he got up from his seat to better look at the photograph. Cheerilee did not move to stop him. "That's so… so sharp and crisp! How do they do that?"

"Like we said: their gryphons are engineers," Scootaloo answered.

"That's cheating!" Diamond Tiara roared, and made to get up out of her seat when her mother trotted over to plant a hoof on her withers. At first, she was about to object, but then noticed the damning glare her mother wore, directed at the three Crusaders who dared to go above and beyond for their report. Who dared to outshine her progeny with something authentic. Who dared cover the same planet her daughter did. Yet oddly, she could hear hoofsteps entering the short hall outside, idly wondering who it was and what they were doing here at this time of day, which she chose to ignore anyway. The hoosteps outside only stopped right beyond the door, then halted, and the door creaked slightly ajar as if of its own mind.

"No. Allow me to take care of this. I will personally tear that report up to make sure that my precious doesn't have any competition," the head of the school board said darkly, and strode up towards the three with grim purpose. She did not stall, she did not stop, she did not halt until she got there. Diamond watched, and sneered, yet she had a sinking feeling in her gut that this would not go over so well.

The mysterious presence beyond the door watched, and the head of the school board was oblivious to their presence, even as she wasted no time using a hoof to shove Pipsqueak out of the way. "Out of my way, you wretched transplant from Trottingham!" she howled as he protested with a sharp whine. Before the Pristine President of Planet Prissy-Pants could carry out her attempt to shred the report then and there, somepony knocked on the door. The head of the school board turned to it and asked, "Who is it, and what do you want?"

"It's Medical Records, Chief of Staff for Ponyville's School Board. Is the Superintendent in this classroom?" the pony on the other side asked.

"Yes… what is it?" the head of the school board asked, nose wrinkling at the interruption.

"It's important, Superintendent. You're being summoned to an emergency meeting, and you were nowhere to be found," Medical Records answered.

"Whatever for? Who is doing the summoning?" the head of the school board asked.

"The Equestrian Education Association. You need to come, like, right now," Medical Records answered in a severe tone of voice. The head of the school board paled, even as she wondered what the Equestrian Education Association wanted her for. "They said it was for, and I quote, 'the Superintendent's abysmal code of conduct this last year alone.' And I will be telling them what I just heard from the other side of this door, so you had better show up if you value your job."

"C-coming…" the head of the school board said, her bravado evaporating as she trotted to the door, and then out of it with haste.

The Crusaders sighed in relief, and then moved to help Pipsqueak back onto his hooves. "Are you okay?" Sweetie asked.

Pipsqueak nodded, and dusted himself off. "For being smacked by an adult, I'm quite alright," he answered. He turned to the door. "She hit me with about as much force as a brick, and I think I'll bruise, but it's nothing major to write about. Now why would Equestria's Equestrian Education Association summon her?" he wondered.

"... for hitting a child?" Scootaloo hedged with a shrug.

"I'd like to believe for far worse than that," Pipsqueak said, shrugging himself.

The Crusaders shrugged, and made to continue with their report, enlisting Pipsqueak's help to distribute the photographs that weren't attached to their report around the class, showing off the Aerie and its functions from even more angles. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon sulked in their seats, grumbling about how unfair it was.

But for the bullies, the Crusaders had one last surprise—the story of how they had obtained their cutie marks. Recounting that once they concluded their report was fun, and they watched with delectable glee as they showed off a few extra photographs that they had taken of their new, military-made-and-approved gear, and authentic medals for the whole class to gawk at. By that point, Diamond's jaw had all but dropped, as well as Cheerilee's. The rest of the class gaped at first, and then broke out into smiles.

"You fought a-a-a magical construct, in the factory… and that was how you got your cutie marks?!" Pipsqueak asked, eyes wide.

"Nevermind that, it was an attack from another province that decided to declare war with the Aerie?!" Snips cried, eyes equally as wide.

"You were launched from a harp acting as a bow, and that was how you flew?!" Snails howled, scarcely able to believe his own ears.

"The magical construct fought the General and his Lieutenants, and came close to carrying out its schemes?!" another classmate questioned, her eyes wide.

"And that wath what the cute-thañera wath about?" Twist asked, grinning at the prospect. "If I had a military throwing my cute-thañera, I'd be a pretty happy pony mythelf."

Cheerilee rapped the desk with a hoof to garner the foals' attention. "Now, now, everypony," she called. "I know you have lots of questions to ask Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, and Apple Bloom, but we have more reports to go over, do we not?" At their nods, she smiled warmly. "Alright; any further questions you have, you can ask them over lunchtime and recess. In the meantime, clear the stage for Snips and Snails!" The Crusaders high-fived and took their goods back to their desks, making sure to close their saddlebags to keep the contents from escaping.

The look of utter defeat and humiliation on Diamond Tiara's face, they found, was oh so worth it.

Epilogue, Part II—A New Destiny

The other school reports had varying degrees of critical reception from the class, but in the end everypony clapped for them just the same… well, everypony except two sulking bullies who may as well have gotten the mother of all kicks in the teeth. Afterwards, they turned in the goods to Cheerilee, recess and lunchtime came and went, and the schoolchildren ate heartily to fuel up for the tail-end of the school day. When they returned from food and playtime, the children all found their reports sitting face-down on their desks, and interestingly, the Crusaders found that the photos, the slime ranch samples, and the foreign currency had barely been disturbed by whatever adults used to perform their grading processes with.

"Now then… do not look at your grades just yet, class," Cheerilee instructed, her expression unusually stern. Had something managed to tick her off, perhaps? The Crusaders almost didn't want to find out. "I have a very important question to ask." She picked up a photograph and trotted to the Crusaders, her expression softening as she showed it to them.

It was a photo of them accepting their medals, standing next to Lance and his cohorts. Illusions had been cast during the photoshoot, making it seem like nothing was wrong with them to the more casual observer, and it was fortunate the illusions held long enough for the photograph to be taken. "Did you really get… military recognition over there?" she asked.

The Crusaders nodded. "We were told we can't bring the gear they made for us to school, though. The gear's magitek, and would blow up in the faces of anypony else that tries using it," Sweetie answered truthfully. "The gems in our gear are enchanted to recognize our magical signatures and our signatures alone; it's not compatible with anypony else."

"I see. And are they… truly friendly?" Cheerilee hedged.

Scootaloo nodded. "Wouldn't have been able to make our report if they weren't," she pointed out.

Cheerilee nodded. "I apologize. It's just… when I think about that newspaper, and all those sordid rumors I keep hearing… I can't help but think they have every reason to hate us for that," she said, shaking her head at it all.

"But they don't! They only hate the ponies responsible for making that mess happen!" Apple Bloom said, frowning. "And Celestia promised them she'd take care of it for them!" As far as she knew, that was a lie, but in this instance, it was better than the truth that regarded the banishment of certain Equestrian numbnuts just to keep the peace between the worlds.

Cheerilee nodded. "Alright." Her usual demeanor returned a few seconds later, and she patted the three on their heads before setting the photo down on Sweetie's desk. She returned to her desk afterwards, and sat down in her seat. "Now then, class, flip your reports over. For those of you without a report on your desk, flip the paper I have left in its place over." They did as instructed, and found their grades put on a separate sheet of paper, stapled to their reports and with a written explanation of why they had gotten that particular grade. For those who had one massive book, they had near-identical papers on their desks, and they too did as instructed.

The rest of the class quietly read over their grades, and the explanations thereof. Diamond began to pout. "An F minus?!" she yelled, stomping her hooves on the desk. "No way! I deserved an A plus for my report!" Her eyes zeroed in on the written explanation for her failing grade, which made her blood boil at first, before her bravado evaporated as her veins turned ice cold. "I… I have to see you after c-class because…"

"Because your mother, the head of the school board, helped you cheat on your assignment, Diamond Tiara, and there is very clear evidence of her doing so—for starters, the hoofwriting of your report being far too neat for even you two. I know your writing, the both of you, well enough to be able to tell that something was amiss. For another, the photographs being of local areas, being taken at weird angles to deflect suspicion. And lastly, for the reference section—specifically the photo taken therein to show off the supposed glyphs," Cheerilee said in a stern voice. "You and Silver Spoon both."

Silver Spoon's ears pinned back. "Does this mean…?"

Cheerilee nodded. "Yes. You both are in trouble, and I will be talking to your parents about this," she said firmly. She looked at Diamond specifically. "Or, in your case, your father alone, since I feel that your mother will be… elsewhere for the time being." The Crusaders did not snicker at their plight, knowing full well how it felt to have one's family talked to whenever they bungled up their school day in spectacular fashion, and instead chose to read the written explanation that had been bestowed onto their report.

"You have written this report excellently, and truth be told, I thought that nopony would be able to do a province of Fantasia, let alone as extensively as you three have. You have covered every bit of ground, and your notes are as detailed as the photographs you have managed to take. If there is one criticism I have, it's that you three have mentioned a few too many… sordid things Fantasia has done, and may continue to do, but that I'll let slide since we know very little about the sister world. At least I can rest easy, knowing that some creatures on Fantasia are fighting to make things right."

"And while I am concerned with what the Fantasian military might have exposed you to, I would like to believe that they apparently warned you about Fantasia's many failings in good faith, knowing that it's up to the current generation to rise above them, without having to rely on the next generation to pick up their slack. While I do disagree with some of their practices, I recognize that their city-state is young enough to have their lack of fair, proper trials be justifiable. I just hope they can correct this issue in their future."

"I would like to speak to you three after school sometime this week, to ask a few questions of my own about the Fantasian military. You see… it's kind of difficult to ignore, with what the news articles and such circulating about them, on top of the vicious rumors some of the other adults have spread about them as of late. You're not in trouble—I'd just like to clarify a few things that you looked like you couldn't talk about in your report. I understand if the military has told you some information is classified; every military has that sort of info. Just arrange a time for us to talk this week, alright?"

"Also, I am very interested to see a demonstration of your new talents. Could you also arrange a different time this month to demonstrate them for me, in an area we can perform those tests safely in? I'd like to see those talents nurtured after all; it would be a waste otherwise. And Sweetie Belle? I was worried about you when you mentioned the foalsitter the first time, and I would like to have a talk with her… or whoever is watching the Boutique while your sister is away. I just want to make sure things are okay with you."

The Crusaders nodded to themselves and smiled. They turned to look at Cheerilee, who was now checking the time really quickly before continuing on with her next lesson, smiling despite Diamond Tiara's whining. In fact, if they were any judge, Cheerilee looked like Hearth's Warming decided to play hooky with winter and drop a big, fat present for her early. They could make the time to talk to her after school, but as for the talent demonstration, maybe they should wait for a week or two before doing that.

Quickly mouthing as much to each other, they continued on with their day, excitement still coursing through their veins. They did make a mental note to not relay anything they heard about the more… sordid things they had heard from the General and his Lieutenants, but such was life—sooner or later, their innocence was going to be chipped away as they grew into adults, and unfortunately, someone would have to warn them about said horrific things to prepare them for any unsavory possibilities. While Rarity, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash would've had a harder time of it, they realized the Aerie's soldiers had no such restraints… at least, when they thought nobody was eavesdropping.

In a way, it was a weird part of starting to grow up, albeit not too soon nor too fast. And in the end, the Aerie was just looking out for them; on dismal Fantasia, the warnings would've come sooner or later anyhow, and they'd rather have had somepony who didn't mince words over somepony who would've given… an unfortunate hooves-on demonstration. Maybe the next time on Fantasia, they could arrange a playdate with Maria, and see if she could befriend them to help her soothe the ache of losing her old ones. It wouldn't be anything more than a bandaid on a bleeding stump of a leg for those who would scoff at the notion, but for them it was rather one of many stitches required to mend a broken heart.

Oh well, life had its ups and downs. They just had to make do, and as far as they could say, they were doing quite alright for themselves.

~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~-—-~

Cheerilee, by necessity, had to have Silver Spoon's parents, Diamond Tiara's father, and the parents and guardians of the other school children arranged in a neat and tidy line outside her door once school was let out. For most of the foals, it was congratulations all around for completing their assignments, pointers on what they could do better, and so forth. The parents of the uppity fillies were the last in line, and ahead of them were Big Mac, Scootaloo's aunts, and Lyra, who had smiled upon seeing Sweetie's new cutie mark.

"So you had to get Carrot Top to watch Granny?" Apple Bloom asked.

Big Mac nodded. "Eeyup. Somepony needs to watch Granny and the barn while I'm out," he said, lifting a hoof to gently ruffle his sister's mane. He turned to Lyra. "Didja feed Opal?"

Lyra nodded. "And I… cleaned her toilet. After moving it out of Sweetie's room." She made a face. "Why would that Stern Lecture mare put it there…? A foal could get sick if the box is filled and not cleaned…"

Sweetie frowned. "That foalsitter hated cats. Told me she'd have skinned Opal alive if she weren't kept in my room, and she sounded like she meant it," she answered unhappily.

Lyra frowned at the language Sweetie had used. She turned to the foal in question. "She… actually said that," she managed, struggling to comprehend the thought processes behind Stern Lecture's words being uttered in such a fashion.

Sweetie nodded. "She did. Opal hated her right back, but stayed in my room for my sake," she affirmed.

Lyra sighed and lifted a hoof to pat Sweetie's head. "Well… at least the foalsitter's no longer around. I'm just glad you and Opal are okay," she said, smiling weakly. "Although… I wonder where she went…"

"Oh trust us, she was a vile mare," Lofty said, ruffling her wings uncomfortably. "She wouldn't let Sweetie Belle play with Scootaloo or Apple Bloom, and said that proper unicorns didn't give the serfs the time of day." She shook her head. "I still find it hard to believe there are ponies out there, willing to spew the same bunk that almost got our ancestors frozen over."

Big Mac nodded. "Trust us, Lyra, and jest be glad ya didn't meet her," he affirmed. He watched as the classroom door opened, and Snips and Snails and their folks trotted out with beaming smiles on their faces. He turned to them and asked, "Say, what did yer kids cover on their assignment?"

"They covered the province of Griffonstone," Snips' father, a portly stallion, answered. "Cheerilee said they could improve on current details of Griffonstone, but let it slide since we don't have much information to work with on that front." He smiled and led his son, his son's friend, and his son's friend's parents around the waiting cue and out the door.

Cheerilee poked her head out of the door. She paused upon seeing Lyra. "... are you…?"

"I'm the replacement foalsitter, not the one you should be worrying about," Lyra answered. She flashed her horn, let her aura embrace Cheerilee's head for a moment, and let it fade—probably a bout of telepathy, the Crusaders realized.

Cheerilee frowned. "Threatened to skin a cat…" She shuddered. "Very well, come inside." She pulled her head back into the class, and let Big Mac and his group enter to find a few chairs before the desk to sit in, with one larger than normal to accommodate the size of the larger stallion. Cheerilee sat behind the desk, and turned to the door before Lyra lit her horn to close it.

Cheerilee cleared her throat and smiled warmly. "Now, I am sure you've all heard about the province these young fillies chose to cover, yes?" she asked. Upon receiving several nods, she let her smile dim a little. "Well… do any of you remember Fantasian diplomats coming to Ponyville at all?"

Big Mac nodded. "They helped out a bit at the Acres, since this year zap apple season overlapped with Cider Season," he said. "Not too much, but enough to make it easier to focus."

Cheerilee allowed a nod. "And… were they military?" she hedged.

Big Mac nodded again. "Wore cloaks, and didn't look the type, but then again, probably fer the best, since Ponyville lost its marbles jest hearing 'bout them," he affirmed.

"... and you are aware they control a province in Fantasia, right?" Cheerilee pressed.

"Figured as much," Big Mac answered. "They was military; wouldn't make a lick of sense if they didn't." His face softened. "But Apple Bloom told me… they had bad things happen to them on Fantasia. Bad things she can't talk about. Would also make sense fer them to have something be classified—every military has that."

Cheerilee slowly nodded. "You are also, presumably, aware that Fantasia… leaves a lot to be desired?" she continued, waving a hoof in the air.

Big Mac nodded again. "Heard about the Fantasian military's soldiers wantin' to marry fer love, and not have it arranged fer them," he answered.

Cheerilee nodded once more. She turned to Lyra. "And when were you informed about this…?"

"Just last night, actually," Lyra replied. "Big Mac sent Lofty to fetch me, and he told me that the children were back and had done a report on Fantasia, and that we would need a unicorn to get into the Boutique since it was locked from the inside. I wasn't informed of the marriage thing until later in the day, when I went to the market square to buy a few apples from his stand."

Cheerilee sighed. She turned to Lofty. "And you are, presumably, aware that Fantasia… has a worrying tendency to scar children for life?" she pressed.

Lofty shook her head. "Not until recently, no," she confirmed. "In fact, I wasn't aware of it until Scootaloo read the report aloud to me and Holiday." She shuddered. "Giant swords and hellfire… never before did I think something so tragic and awful could happen in the sister world…"

Holiday nodded. "I would hope Fantasia comes to its senses, but seeing as we don't know what's going on in the sister world right now…" She let the unspoken thought hang in the air.

Cheerilee's smile fully diminished by now, and she shifted awkwardly in her seat. "And you three were informed of how they obtained their cutie marks, yes?" she asked, hoping to find an easier topic of discussion to work with.

The other adults nodded. "We got told the whole thing," Big Mac answered. "Mighty sad to see that plotheads already don't like Irongrey Aerie that much."

"While I, personally, disapprove of fighting, I do recognize these three had the right call in the end," Lyra added with a nod. She turned to Sweetie Belle and smiled. "In fact, she showed me her new harp, and I taught her how to tune it accordingly."

"We do feel that Scootaloo's new mechanical wings are… too big for her, but we were surprised at how light they were in the hooves," Lofty said, also smiling faintly. "It's… almost like the Aerie knew what it was doing in the end."

Cheerilee allowed herself a tiny smile. At least things were looking up on that front. "Now then, the reason I called all of you here, is that I am… concerned with what the three have been potentially exposed to on Fantasia," she said, her smile falling again. She turned to the children. "What… all did you see and hear about on Fantasia, that isn't classified?"

"Well… we saw a changeling nymph wraith," Sweetie began. "Skinny, like… bones showing through chitin, broken horn, and a carved smile going from ear to ear."

"And another skinny foal with a campfire cutie mark, and big…" Apple Bloom fished for words, before giving up and gesturing down at her hinds with a hoof. The adults gasped.

"Apple Bloom! Ya know yer not supposed to talk about a filly's—" Big Mac started.

"But this filly was almost as skinny as the wraith! And she was trying to wrangle a pegasus baby, when her hooves were firmly on the ground!" Apple Bloom retorted. "How could I've not seen 'em?! They looked like they were makin' her haunches sag, more than her own bones!"

Big Mac paled. "Yer sayin'..."

Apple Bloom nodded. "I saw 'em when she turned around to head back to her table at the Aerie's mess hall," she confirmed.

Cheerilee frowned. "... and this filly is…?"

"At the Aerie, getting medical care," Apple Bloom answered. "They had her hooked to a drip and everything." The adults sagged in relief over that. "I 'unno about the adults who did that to her, but the Aerie's looking to bust some heads over it, I reckon."

"And… the pegasus baby?" Lofty hedged.

"Already flying in the air. Like, they had to grab him, and he didn't like it," Scootaloo replied with a shrug. "They were gentle, just… really early magic surges."

"... unfortunate that that particular filly's foalhood has been stolen…" Cheerilee mumbled, sighing.

"She has an aunt, and I think she's helping her raise the tyke," Apple Bloom said. "Although… now that I think about it, the Aerie might have doctors helping out too, since they'd prefer it if the kids in their territory stayed kids. And once she gets better, she might explore her cutie mark in full, just like us."

Cheerilee nodded, eager to get the discussion back on track. "Regardless, I think they might need to have talks with you, in case they have any nightmares over this sort of thing from here on out," she said.

"If Princess Luna doesn't beat us to the punch first," Lyra pointed out.

Cheerilee smiled. "Anyway, that's all the criticisms I had in regards to what they had seen in Fantasia. Now, onto their report, they were surprisingly detailed, with actual photographs on top of illustrations scattered throughout the pages, and it was well written and well-stocked with information. Granted… not classified information regarding whatever the Fantasian military doesn't want getting out, but informative nonetheless," she said, warmth returning to her voice. "With how many photographs they've obtained, I'm surprised they didn't make a picture book on the side—would've been a nice touch for the report, but oh well, we can just make one at home, right?"

At their nods, her eyes started to sparkle. "Furthermore, they have gotten their cutie marks—on a planet that they learned was not known for this sort of thing! And got awarded by the Fantasian military for their efforts! Would it be prudent of me to say that we need to find a nice, quiet spot that they can demonstrate their new talents safely in?" Cheerilee asked, bouncing a little at the concept before reigning herself in.

Big Mac nodded. "We got a quiet spot in the Acres jest fer that sorta thing," he said, smiling. "Maybe this weekend. After these three get used to being back home first." He shrugged. "Course, the Acres is a bit out from Ponyville, and the public park might object after the paraglidin' incident."

"Ah, the time they crashed into the Golden Oaks Library… from the sky…" Cheerilee sighed, before shuffling again. "And then we saw that giant lightning sprite over the Everfree…" She coughed into her hoof, and smiled again. "But did you see how many photographs they had? The samples from the slime ranch? The foreign currency? This… this is big, guys! Truly, truly big!"

Big Mac smiled. "Eeyup. Even bigger than most ponies would give credit fer," he agreed. "The first report 'bout Fantasia is a pretty big mountain, compared to knowin' nothing at all." The other adults with him nodded their assent. He turned to Apple Bloom and smiled. "And, we might consult one of Equestria's magitek experts in the future, fer… tutelage." Apple Bloom grinned as Big Mac ruffled her mane again. "Course, that's a few years off at least," he added. "Maybe when the farm gets more funds first. We still gotta save up on the money after all."

Cheerilee giggled. "Now, there is another reason I called you three here specifically…" Her face darkened just a little, and not enough to terrify the Crusaders. "I called you here because the head of the school board assaulted Pipsqueak, and was about to shred their project—with somepony else from the school board of Ponyville within earshot of the whole thing."

Lofty and Holiday gasped. Lyra raised her brow. "Wait… why would she assault Pipsqueak?" she asked.

"Well… he was in front of the three, looking closer at the photographs they had taken, and the head of the school board just thought he was in her way," Cheerilee answered with a sigh. "Regardless… I have informed his parents, and they will be pressing charges against her… assuming the Equestrian Education Association, which apparently summoned her, won't do so first. Furthermore, the entire class had seen the act, so…" She folded her hooves across her desk. "I'm going to be collecting witness testimonies from the class, and written ones will probably be accepted as evidence."

Big Mac frowned. "So… the spoiled plothead finally got herself in a heap o' trouble. Don't surprise me none," he said bluntly. "Which is good fer the young'uns. Maybe the Equestrian Education Association can put somepony with more sense in the position, if it opens up." He shook his head. "Jest goes to show what'll happen when a pony named Spoiled Rich gets into a position of power—it gets to their heads, and makes 'em act dumber than they should."

Cheerilee nodded. "At the very least, do be sure to have the children write written testimonies on all of Spoiled's offenses this past year alone—inside and outside of school," she said.

Big Mac nodded once more. "Can do," he replied.

Cheerilee nodded, and smiled again. "Excellent. I do believe that covers everything," she said. The adults and foals got up, and made for the door, but halted when she called out, "Oh, and congratulations on getting your cutie marks and military recognition, girls! Not many ponies get those two things in the same day, especially at your age~"

"Thank you, Miss Cheerilee!" the Crusaders chorused, causing Cheerilee to smile and wave at them as they and their chaperones walked out the door.

"You're welcome~" Cheerilee called back, giggling as the group went out the door. Along the way, down the hall, the group was stopped by Diamond's father, who smiled warmly at Big Mac.

"Hello there Mac. How is Granny Smith doing?" the stallion asked.

Big Mac smiled. "She's doing jest fine, Filthy Rich," he replied. "She was mighty proud when Apple Bloom here came home with her cutie mark."

Filthy's smile widened, a warm and genuine smile that did not belie any malice. "I did hear from Diamond here that she got her cutie mark. What's her talent?" he asked.

"I'm a magitek expert," Apple Bloom replied, grinning as she showed off her mark. "I can use charging crystals to make magitek work."

"Charging crystals…? As far as I know, Equestria relies solely on magic to get its technology working…" Filthy put a hoof to his chin and pondered.

"Fantasia has an area that uses the crystals," Sweetie proffered. Filthy nodded and set his hoof down.

"Ah, yes, the sister world… shame we don't know terribly much about it," Filthy said, somewhat disappointed by the fact.

"Fantasia's got a military tryin' to make things right over there," Big Mac said. "The less said, the better. The rest of Fantasia's still doing practices Celestia done made illegal at the dawn of Equestria."

Filthy sighed. "I see. Regardless…" He smiled again. "I hope my… soon-to-be-ex wife no longer darkens this school's doorstep, or any doorstep, ever again." He turned a withering look towards Diamond Tiara, who cringed under the gaze. "And maybe I can instill some values into my daughter that don't align with personal, petty entitlement."

"Glad yer gettin' divorced from that nag. I done warned ya she was bad news, back when I was jest a growing colt," Big Mac said.

Filthy turned to Big Mac again, and smiled with a nod. "I'm glad I listened now; sooner rather than too late. At least now, I can do some good for my wayward daughter, before she can get herself jailed in the future. Happy tidings to you."

"Happy tidings to you too," Big Mac replied. With that, he and his group were out the door, and as the doors to the schoolhouse closed behind them, they could faintly hear Diamond Tiara protesting her innocence. But the Crusaders cared not for a lick of it; they had some talents to practice yet, and maybe they could squeeze something in this weekend, now that they no longer had to crusade for their cutie marks.

Cutie Mark Crusaders Magitek Fighters? A bit taxing on the tongue, but it did have a nice ring to it. Maybe they could come up with another name for their club during the weekend, too, since they were no longer crusading for their cutie marks. And hopefully, they might help bridge that critical gap between Fantasian and Mythonian relations in the future—their report was but the critical first step in the knowledge department after all, and that knowledge wasn't going to find itself either.

Little did they know what their discovery would lead to...

Prologue—Assignment

A warm afternoon had started making its gradual descent into a quiet evening, and through the windows of the Ponyville Schoolhouse's classroom, the students could see a nearby planet so close they could see continents and any possible storms roiling on its surface. Some darted to look at the close-yet-so-far world, and others kept their noses in their school textbooks as the teachers droned on with their lessons. A few misbehaved, but unfortunately for school, that was par for the course.

A particular trio in one such class glanced between book and window, each frowning sullenly and watching the other world with longing gazes. The teacher took notice and trotted over to one of them. "Apple Bloom?" she asked.

Apple Bloom looked back to her teacher, one Cheerilee, and sighed. "It's just… I wonder… is my sister going to be okay?" she asked quietly, her pink bow faltering as though it could sense her distress.

Cheerilee affected a smile. "I'm sure she's alright, Apple Bloom." When Apple Bloom didn't respond to that, her smile faded, and she put a hoof on her withers to garner her attention. Cheerilee shifted to lean so they were eye to eye without bumping up against the desk as she added, "I'm sure it's nothing more serious than what Discord did—she'll take care of herself. She'll be fine."

Sweetie Belle proceeded to start rubbing her hoof against the back of her mane and causing some pink and purple strands to fray out of place. As she did so, she piped up, "Still, Miss Cheerilee… Rarity and the others have been gone for weeks now, and for what? Some mission to Fantasia?"

"Yeah," Scootaloo added, wings shifting dejectedly at her sides as a shade of worry passed over her face. She looked longingly at Fantasia and sulked. "Just a few nights ago, we saw some dark storm brewing over on its surface. And I could tell it didn't look friendly."

Cheerilee turned to Scootaloo, frown deepening at this news. "Do you know… how unfriendly it looked?" she pressed.

"Red, yellow, angry, but it looked like a normal thunderstorm at first." Scootaloo shuddered, wings drooping at her sides. "And it had… like an alphabet going on, in a circle—an alphabet I couldn't read."

"Ya think that might be a Fantasian dialect language?" Sweetie asked, turning to her friend.

Scootaloo shook her head. "I dunno…" Her face paled at the recent memory, and her ears decided to flag downwards. "But… just looking at it… it felt wrong and…"

"Unnatural?" Sweetie proffered.

Scootaloo shakily nodded, swallowing a lump in her throat. She turned to one of her classmates, a red-maned filly with purple glasses. "You saw it too, Twist, didn't you?" she pressed.

"Yeth, I’ve theen it. I wath frightened jutht looking at it," Twist answered, turning to look at Scootaloo with a pale face of her own.

A brown-and-white pinto colt tossed in his two bits, "And when it cleared… it looked like… like part of Fantasia had scars on its surface." He pointed outside, and Cheerilee looked as closely as the classroom window would allow. Indeed, on an ashen part of Fantasia, there were scars visible from the window, and if she peered very closely, she could see that some glowed ominously.

"That… yeah…" Cheerilee paused, scrounging for words. "Pipsqueak… that…"

"Doesn't look okay?" Pipsqueak offered, garnering a slow and hesitant nod out of his teacher as an answer. "It wasn't even like that yesterday, either…"

"Yeah," Cheerilee agreed, trotting back to the front of the class to glance at the chalkboard a little more closely to take her mind off of the horrible sight that blighted Fantasia's surface. Whatever caused that mess didn't affect Equestria in any way… right?

She worried and gnawed on her lower lip as she considered that Celestia would have probably seen the scarring on Fantasia too, along with the nobles in Canterlot—all but certain now, seeing as they had the highest possible vantage point in the land on ground level. That… well…

Cheerilee shook her head, deciding to take that up with Luna in the dreamscape later. Assuming, of course, Luna had time enough for her ears to listen to her concerns. Then she glanced at the clock—drats, it was almost time to herald the end of the school day…

Yet her mind could not help but flit back to Fantasia's scarred surface. Just what in the name of Faust had caused that to happen? She hoped Discord wasn't responsible for it... She turned to the schoolfoals as they began to exchange chatter amongst themselves.

"So, are we gonna go Cutie Mark Crusading during autumn break?" Apple Bloom asked, looking to Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle for confirmation. At the question, Sweetie wilted, causing the other two to look at her in concern.

"I don't think I'll be able to crusade during the break…" Sweetie muttered dejectedly, offering no further explanation when Scootaloo reached over to prod her withers with a hoof. Two fillies snickered at this development, causing Apple Bloom and Scootaloo to glare at the source of the giggling.

Two posh, snide-looking foals with a purple-white mane and silver-braided mane grinned cruelly. "What's the matter, Sweetie Blank? Afraid to upset mumsy and dadsy again with your uselessness?" the purple-maned filly jibbed, her grin widening as she turned to her partner in crime. "Oh wait! They go on trips all the time and ignore her like the little blank flank she is, and her sister threw herself into Fantasia just to get away from her; isn't that right, Silver Spoon?!"

Silver Spoon cackled with glee, causing Sweetie to further shrink in on herself. "That's right, Diamond Tiara! Her parents ignore her worthless flank, unlike ours!" The howling ceased when Cheerilee lifted a ruler and sharply slapped her desk with it to get their attention.

"That is quite enough, the both of you," Cheerilee said a mite sharply, but besides a few more ill-meaning and ill-mannered snickers, that got the two bullies to hush their gums for now. She glanced to the clock again to gather her thoughts, taking a moment to sort herself amidst the silence of the schoolchildren.

Then she glanced at Fantasia once again, and a lightbulb went off in her head and started doing a short-lived tinny. She grinned and turned to her wards, with precious minutes on the clock remaining. "Alright, children… even though you have autumn break, I think I'll assign you a group project for you to do during it," she said in a sweet voice, causing everypony to collectively groan at the news. "Now it'll be a simple one, something that you should all do with flying colors." That made the kids perk up a bit, and even Sweetie lifted her head.

Cheerilee composed herself. This was the big moment. She inhaled deeply, though whether to sort herself again or seem dramatic was lost onto the foals. "Let them wonder," her consciousness said in her head as she spoke out loud once again. "Do some research on one of the neighboring lands," she began, turning to the chalkboard and taking a moment to erase it clean with an eraser. Once it was blank, she wasted no time picking up some chalk with a hoof to start writing her plan out. "Griffonstone, Yakyakistan, the Minotaur Lands…"

Those were written out in short order, "and the Crystal Empire to name a few." After listing the examples, she wrote TEN PAGES IF GROUP, FIVE IF SOLO next to the list, followed by: "What I want to see on your assignments: Introduction to the country," "how it was formed," "notable ponies/creatures of province's history," and "sources." Next to that, written neatly was, "include pictures of the area and notable ponies/creatures! Evidence is as important as sources!"

The kids nodded, and glanced at each other. Their attention went back to the board in short order, however, when the words EXTRA CREDIT were written opposite of the pre-made list that Cheerilee had written, some jerked up in curiosity. Heads leaned forward, eyes were glued to the chalk board as Cheerilee angled her body in a way to obscure the words she was writing beneath EXTRA CREDIT.

When she was done writing it out, she turned around, body still angled, to face the classroom with a warm smile. "Now the extra credit will be a bit more difficult, but I can assure you… if you do it well, you'll ace this assignment," she said cryptically. She nodded to Apple Bloom as soon as the filly raised her hoof.

"Is it some country we've never heard of before?" Apple Bloom asked. That got a rather slow, but well-meaning nod, from her teacher.

Cheerilee stepped to the side, and the jaws of the kids collectively dropped when the words FANTASIAN PROVINCES/COUNTRIES were revealed with her motion. That got the foals clamoring, sharing glances, and looking to the sister world with wide eyes and shrunken pupils. Eventually, Bloom raised her hoof again and hushed the clamoring with her question of, "But how are we gon' get there when the barrier just broke months ago?"

Cheerilee answered, "I'm sure you'll find a way if you set your mind to it." With that, the bell rang, and the kids got up to rush out the door after grabbing their saddlebags, the whole lot of them still jabbering as they went. Cheerilee smiled as they departed, though she couldn't help but wonder how the foals would manage the extra credit assignment, if indeed they took on the challenge thereof at all.

Then she grinned once more. Maybe a certain someone could help with that…

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Apple Bloom and Scootaloo trotted around their clubhouse a day later, frowning as they glanced between Fantasia and each other. Since this morning, the scars over Fantasia had mysteriously healed; the ashen part of the land was now a vibrant forest green that could not be mistaken as anything other than healed land. Even so, though, the scars' disappearance had them uneasy. Eventually, the fitful glancing ceased as the two emptied their saddlebags onto the floor and sat down before the contents.

"So what should we do?" Scootaloo asked, rubbing a hoof against her other foreleg as her wings snapped open, only to close seconds later.

"About the homework?" Apple Bloom asked, garnering a nod from her companion. She leaned back a bit, contemplating the question for a few moments. "Well… I was considering making it a group project between us Crusaders, but…" Her ears and hairbow both drooped when her mind flitted to Sweetie Belle.

"That cranky old mare that shouldn't be foalsitting?" Scootaloo asked, getting a hesitant nod out of Apple Bloom. Scootaloo wilted and sighed, using a hoof to lazily part a pencil from the unsorted paper. "Yeah… I don't know what Sweetie's parents thought was good foalsitting material, but that wrinkly hag ain't it."

"Reminds me of the stuffy Canterlot types that Applejack don't like," Apple Bloom muttered, further drooping when her mind changed gears to think about her sister. "Ever since the foalsitting began, none of us have been Crusading like we usually do…"

Scootaloo felt her wings shudder as an autumn chill wormed its way through the windows of the clubhouse. Some of it stirred the papers, though not enough to be an immediate concern. "We're telling Rarity about it as soon as we can, because this bites," she grumbled, turning to her friend again. "I feel sorry for the cat too…"

"When the cat don't like the foalsitter, then send the foalsitter on 'er way," Apple Bloom said, before shaking her head to try and cast as much of her concerns out of her thoughts as she could. "So… looks like it's just us on this…" She waved a hoof absently at the papers on the floor. "What country should we do for our assignment?"

Scootaloo picked up the pencil and tapped her chin with it, grinding its eraser below her bottom lip as she considered the list of example countries written earlier yesterday. "I dunno… and we didn't check with the other foals to see who claimed what, and Cheerilee didn't say anything about not doing a country somepony else has claimed…"

Apple Bloom nodded as she took that into account. "How about the Crystal Empire?" she proposed.

Scootaloo shook her head. "No, it's only come back… last year or so? We don't have enough to work with, even if we got Twilight Sparkle's help on it…" she trailed off, letting the unspoken hang in the air. "And I don't think Sparkler knows that much about the Empire either…"

Apple Bloom sighed. "The Minotaur Lands?"

Once more, Scootaloo's head shook. "Nah. Too boring."

"Griffonstone?"

Another head shake. "Haven't heard from them or Yakyakistan in forever." Scootaloo huffed. "I'd be surprised if there's a Centaur Empire somewhere." She looked to Fantasia again and puffed out her lower lip in a pout. "How are we gonna get to Fantasia anyway?! We'd need an airship, a driver, and directions at least!" She stomped a hoof before calming down and sulking again. "And it wouldn't be as fun without Sweetie Belle anyway…"

Apple Bloom reached over and wrapped her friend in a hug. Scootaloo returned the gesture, and both snorted simultaneously. "I miss hearing Rainbow's awesome stories… maybe she'll have more when she gets back from Fantasia…" Scootaloo muttered.

"And I miss Applejack waking me up every morning… just isn't the same when Big Mac's doing it, y'know?" Apple Bloom replied, shivering with her friend as another chill filtered into the room. The two parted and trotted to a window to poke their heads out, seeing a cream-colored pegasus in a purple sweatshirt with a cerulean striped mane exiting the barn. At her side was a cream-colored earth pony with an orange-red streaked mane in a sky blue scarf with a sailboat as her cutie mark. "I'm surprised your aunts agreed to spend the night here with you."

Scootaloo nodded. "They're probably coming to get us for dinner," she noted, seeing the pair make a turn towards the clubhouse instead of continuing past the gate that led out of Sweet Apple Acres. Her brow rose when Big Mac also left the barn to trot after the pair, and within moments the three were at the ramp leading to the clubhouse proper. "Is it dinner time?"

Big Mac shook his head. "There's someone who wants to see y'all. Get yer saddlebags," he called, his face neutral and his tone calm, if raised in volume to let the fillies hear him. "He says it's something important."

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom glanced at each other. "Ya sure, Big Mac?" Apple Bloom asked as soon as she turned back to her brother. At his nod, and those of the mares with him, the pair shrugged. "We'll be down in a few!" With that, the fillies parted from the window and moved to stuff their saddlebags with their contents. There wasn't time to sift through whose was whose; at the end of the day, it was just pencils and paper anyway, and Big Mac looked like he had something weighing on his mind.

When the packing was done, they zipped down the ramp of the clubhouse and ran to the barn, finding the adults halfway ahead of them. When they caught up, they slowed down to a more sedate trot just fast enough to stay with the herd. Apple Bloom looked at her brother with a puzzled frown. She wanted to ask, but couldn't figure out what to ask, and decided to keep her mouth shut to see whoever else decided to visit the Acres for herself.

As they were nearing the barn, they heard a dog barking up a storm. Scootaloo piped up about it, "Winona's fussing? Is she hurt?"

Big Mac shook his head. "Eenope. Just barkin' cause this guy showed up out of the blue," he answered. "She ain't biting him on his plot, though… least I hope she ain't…"

With that, they continued in silence, with only their hoofsteps and Winona's barking to fill in the silence. Big Mac opened the door when they arrived, and Apple Bloom's brow climbed higher up her forehead when she saw a certain draconequus sitting upside down on the kitchen ceiling, his tail stretched so it could swish around the floor. Following his tail was a brown and white border collie, who was wagging her tail as she gave chase to the prehensile limb.

Discord smiled. "Hello Crusaders," he greeted with a wave of his paw. "I filled in your brother and aunts on everything."

"On what?" Scootaloo asked. Discord chuckled.

"Well…" Discord vanished off the ceiling, and reappeared before the herd in an explosion of confetti that sprouted pegasus wings and flew out the door quacking. He scooped up Apple Bloom and Scootaloo into his arms, looking pointedly at Big Mac as he did so. "He didn't tell you?"

"Eenope," Big Mac confirmed with a blunt nod. "Thought they should hear it from the draconequus's mouth."

Discord grinned. "Fair enough," he said, and with that, he vanished in a puff of smoke with the Crusaders in tow. The two mares looked at Big Mac, then each other.

"Are you sure it's a good idea, Lofty?" the earth pony mare asked with a frown.

Lofty nodded. "He said he'd keep an eye on them to make sure no harm came to them," she confirmed with a small smile.

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Sweetie Belle trudged home later that day, opened the door, and closed it behind her with ears flattened against her head. "I'm home…" she called dejectedly. She glanced around for a bit, before finding a unicorn mare on the stairs glaring at her through an upturned snout. The mare was pea-soup green, with an oatmeal-colored mane done up in the tightest bun she had seen since Twilight went to the Grand Galloping Gala. Her ice blue eyes pierced her, almost scrutinizing her soul for any smudge it could find. The wrinkles decorating her face and body seemed carved into rivulets, making her seem as ancient as Granny Smith.

"Good," the mare hissed, coming down the stairs. "You didn't get up to that crusading balderdash, did you?" Her voice did not invite warmth nor comfort; it was as spiteful as they could come, and sent chills running through the hapless child. It did not help that she might have come from another era, if Sweetie knew better.

"No, Miss Stern Lecture… Just came straight home after going to Golden Oaks to see if something was there. It wasn't," Sweetie replied, still looking dejected even as Stern Lecture trotted over to usher her further inside with her horn aglow and a sinister smirk curling her lips.

"What seems to be the matter?" Stern Lecture asked as Sweetie trotted upstairs, some contempt hiding away to let sickly, poisonous sweetness take the spotlight. "Don't want to spend time with your foalsitter?"

"I have homework," Sweetie answered, keeping her voice flat but also truthful. She marched to her room and closed the door before Stern Lecture could get in another word edgewise, and trotted to the desk opposite her window and closed toy chest. She threw her saddlebags onto the desk and proceeded to empty its contents; a notepad was pushed to the side, a pencil leapt over the edge and rolled to the bed, and loose papers were pulled out and stacked neatly to the other side.

Once the saddlebags were emptied and strung to the bedpost, Sweetie lit her horn and magically lifted the pencil all the way back to her desk, and when it landed on smooth wood she buried her head in her hooves. A low groan resonated in her throat, halting when a soft mrrow hit her ears. She turned to her bed and saw Opalescence emerging from beneath the covers, looking at her with something of a worried face. The cat hopped off and made her way over, jumping up onto the desk to rub her cheek on Sweetie's foreleg.

Sweetie Belle sighed. "I know… I miss Rarity too," she muttered. She didn't jump when she heard faint hoofsteps, but the cat did, and made to rush back under the bed and out of sight. She buried her head in her hooves again, sighing as she wracked her brain for ways to start the assignment alone, and on what. Alas, her brain drew blanks on both fronts, and stayed firmly within those blanks as hours uncounted passed by. As the sun set, it felt as though Sweetie still hadn't the time to muster anything up as the sound of hoofsteps started to permeate from outside, halting just right outside the door.

"What kind of homework is it?" Stern Lecture asked, her voice sounding as though the door could not keep her from glaring at her charge.

Sweetie straightened herself and prepared for the worst. She turned and answered, "Group project for research on neighboring lands, but it can also be done alone," she said. She flinched as the door swung open and the self-proclaimed foalsitter marched up to her with narrowed, withering eyes.

"And why should you partake in that rubbish? Non-Equestrians do not need the time of day from corruptible foals like you," Stern Lecture said admonishingly, before donning a cruel smile and wrapping a hoof around Sweetie, who flinched out of her grasp. "And in a group? I'll hear of no such scatterbrained poppycock; you can do the homework alone, or simply ignore it and start paying attention to my lessons instead."

"But if I don't do it, I'll fail the assignment!" Sweetie Belle protested, turning to her desk to reach for her notepad as if it could save her.

"Nonsense! Back in my day, a growing mare didn't need to finish school to succeed in life! If anything, you should write a report instead about how mares need to return to the olden days, where they were ladylike and always serving of their husbands unque—"

The declaration died in her throat as the bedroom window burst open, and a multicolored, mismatched beast rushed in with a saddlebag-toting pair of Apple Bloom and Scootaloo in his paw and claw. He stood proudly on his legs, wings flapping as the cat rushed to him with a yowl and clambered up his body with her eyes wide and pleading. "Oh Sweetie Belle~" the beast sang, before noticing the cat scurrying into his arms. "Oh? It seems the hairball wants to come with us too."

Before Stern Lecture could say another word, Discord's tail whipped to the side and rushed to wrap around Sweetie's midsection and pluck her from hoof-grabbing range. When the tail retracted and brought her into his arms, he then grabbed her school supplies and saddlebags, putting the former in the latter as he added with an especially cold and narrowed glare leveled at Stern Lecture, "Sorry to cut your boring drivel short, love, but the cavalry's here and they've got places to be."

When the foalsitter opened her mouth to protest, she was grabbed by that same tail and promptly hurled out the window, where she landed in a giant marbled cheesecake that wasn't outside the Carousel Boutique just a few moments ago. Discord snickered and flew out the window, making sure to close it and lock everything in the shop behind him as he went. Stern Lecture emerged from the cheesecake, sodden and screaming. "Celestia should have obliterated your statue when she had the chance!" she yelled, causing most passersby in town that were passing the scene to level their own withering looks her way.

Discord paid the promise no heed, and turned to the fillies and cat in his grasp as he meandered his way out of Stern Lecture's sight. "Your teacher told me everything," he said with an enigmatic smile. Scootaloo squealed.

"Y-y-you mean…" Apple Bloom stammered.

Discord's grin widened as he heard Stern Lecture protesting something fierce in the distance. "Yes I can," he said bluntly. He turned to Sweetie and added, "And ever since your parents hired that foalsitter, I've been keeping some… extra tabs on her. What better way to make her livid than let her shoot her mouth off and interrupt?"

Sweetie grinned, eyes sparkling with a fragile hope. "Does that mean… I can see Rarity again?"

Discord's eyes gleamed in delight. "Oh yes it does, deary~" he cooed. "You can tell her all about the foalsitter once I put you three on Fantasia." His tail-hairs formed a hand and snapped their digits in a finger-like manner, and before him a plaid-lightning portal opened up to show a mountain with a city on it and a ring of steel beneath it. He turned to the cat. "And you wish to see your master too?"

Opalescence meowed with a purr, grinning slightly as she did so. Discord set the foals down onto their hooves, and the cat on Sweetie's back as he saw the portal's overhead view move to one of the ring's spokes, facing outward as an airship touched down and several familiar faces stepped out.

Discord chuckled as he saw the still-drenched Stern Lecture galloping around the corner, only to slip and fall on her face. After waving at her mockingly as she raised her head to see the priceless look on her face, he ushered the children through the portal before going through himself. And besides, the look on a certain General's face would also be so worth it.

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The guest room that Sweetie and Rarity were sharing was surprisingly posh, as lavishly decorated as she would have expected a guest suite in Canterlot Castle to be. Sure, she found the hues of sunset reds and navys odd, but for the moment she was more concerned with just spending time with her big sister. Opalescence was cradled in Rarity's forelegs purring a mile a minute, and all three of them were plopped on a large star-decorated bed whose frame had runes carved into its wood.

"I'm surprised Natalie knew what Opal liked," Sweetie said, noticing the cat had the happiest grin on her face since she was a kitten.

"I am as well," Rarity said with a grin, leaning over to nuzzle the kitty's head for a moment before then turning to Sweetie Belle. "I am very surprised about the military's taste in decorations; I'd have thought them… bare and basic in such matters." Her grin turned warm. "And that Burning Frost Special was surprisingly delightful, once the burn went away." The two shared a giggle, and then nuzzled each other.

"That aside…" Rarity's voice lost all warmth when they parted from the nuzzling. "What else did the foalsitter do?"

Sweetie wilted, but found her gumption when Rarity parted a hoof from her cat to wrap around her withers. "Well… Discord said he was watching her ever since she began foalsitting me…" she began.

Rarity's brow furrowed, but only slightly. That news was disconcerting enough without factoring Discord into it. Sweetie looked at her expression and could tell she was being patient for her sake, but probably with a side of violent, violent thoughts. She wasn't sure if her foray in Fantasia changed her or what, but some part of her was glad to not know the answer either way. "She's been trying to make me more and more ladylike… by yelling at me and getting too close to me."

That… made anger flash in her sister's eyes, but Rarity quickly reigned it in when she saw Sweetie flinch. "Go on," she said in a subdued voice.

Opal meowed and shifted to rub her head on Sweetie's fetlock. At the encouragement, Sweetie went on, "She thinks I just need to find a husband and obey him to get anywhere in life… and that schoolwork's meaningless. Rarity, why are there ponies still like that in Mythos?"

Rarity shook her head and nuzzled Sweetie consolingly. "Dear, I know you don't accept that poppycock—you live with me more than Mom and Dad, almost," she said. "And sometimes… sometimes even I ask myself that."

"So you don't know the answer either?" Sweetie frowned glumly at Rarity's slow, sour nod.

"I do, however, have a menagerie of guesses as to why. I just… don't voice them out loud because it would be impractical with my line of work," Rarity replied, sighing tiredly as the door to their guest room was knocked on. Both siblings turned to the door. "Yes?"

The door opened, and a mulberry-eyed changeling in black garb poked his head in. "Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear everything. Since I heard your sister came in through a portal, should we watch for the foalsitter too?" he asked.

Sweetie and Rarity shared glances. Then Sweetie turned to the changeling and replied, "If Discord throws her here through a portal, yeah, tell everybody you can."

The changeling sighed. "Alright," he said, and with that, he retracted his head and shut the door.

Sweetie looked at Rarity again. "So why did Lance get angry?" she asked.

Rarity wilted a bit. "Fantasia… is not a very safe place for children," she said with no small amount of regret. "Irongrey Aerie's the only place that's even remotely alright for them, especially if they want to stay children."

Sweetie tilted her head, somewhat confused and curious. "If they want to stay children?" she echoed. "Like… do they grow up faster here?"

"In ways they shouldn't have to," Rarity replied, frowning. "That's… that's why Maria hasn't been allowed to, er… hang out with you and the other Crusaders. She knows things she honestly shouldn't." She huffed and looked to the door as if it insulted their mother. "I'm starting to suspect the same is true of a certain teenage soldier, though so far I don't have many things I can prove my suspicions on that's concrete." Her brow furrowed, as if the door decided to insult her method of business handling. "And recently… we came upon another foal forced to grow up far too soon for anyone's liking."

Another knock, and the changeling opened the door and poked his head back in. This time, he was accompanied by Pinkie Pie also sticking her head in. "Hiya girls! I have a few extra cupcakes that didn't get eaten, and I really need to get them eaten before I make the next batch tomorrow." She lifted a hoof into the doorframe, and sitting on it without tipping over was a round gray serving tray beset with some chocolate-iced confections sprinkled with caramel drizzling and gleaming pieces of candy shaped like stars.

Rarity grinned, and magically took a cupcake with a flick of her horn. "Why yes, we could use a few cupcakes. Thank you Pinkie Pie," she said.

"Thanks," Sweetie said, lighting her horn up to follow her sister's motions. Pinkie grinned and giggled before letting the changeling take a cupcake and pulling her head, her hoof, and the serving tray out without dropping a single morsel.

"No problemo!" Pinkie chirped, bouncing off to see if anyone else wanted a sugary treat to brighten their night. When she departed, the changeling entered the room and sat down on the other side of the door.

"Why'd you come in?" Sweetie asked, causing the changeling to blush sheepishly.

"Can't eat on the clock, and if I do it can't be on camera." The changeling grinned and shoved the whole treat into his mouth, chewed without letting a single crumb get away, and swallowed it before licking his lips to dispose of any evidence that might have smeared itself across his face.

The sisters took bites out of their treats, chewed and swallowed, shared looks, then turned back to the changeling. "Does Lance get upset over that?" Rarity asked before taking another dainty bite.

The changeling shook his head. "Nope. It's the colonels who like to raise a fuss about it. I'd rather not get my rank demoted over that," he said, still grinning. "Especially over a treat like that. They get really crotchety when the lower ranks enjoy something they crave."

Sweetie polished off her cupcake and wiped her mouth with a hoof, though fortunately there wasn't an icing smear to contend with. "Are most of the soldiers here like that?" she asked.

The changeling's grin faded. "Not a whole lot, but the ones who do behave like that happen to be extra grumpy to compensate for their few numbers. Though sometimes, even they do something stupid enough to get Lance to start breathing down their necks more often," he said. "But I'm also sure Lance'll keep you away from those types, unless they try to get in your face or something." With that, he got up and turned to return to his post. The door clicked shut as he went.

Sweetie frowned, and watched as Rarity finished her treat before procuring a hanky from the ether to wipe her face clean. "So Irongrey's run by a military?" she asked.

"Unlike most of Mythos, yes. Though I don't know how much of Fantasia the Aerie controls," Rarity replied, turning to nuzzle her sister. "I do know, for certain, they at least control the region of Greenwood unofficially, though."

Sweetie perked up a bit. "What happened for that to go down?"

Rarity chuckled ruefully, but the sound was oddly devoid of joy. "Well… I don't have all the details, but I was there when… the survivors were more or less rounded up and relocated." She turned to her baby sister and shook her head. "I'll tell you when all this is over, dear." She clutched Sweetie in her forelegs and hugged her tight. "But… not now. It's just a bad time to be even speaking about it."

Sweetie returned the hug. "When I'm older?" she guessed. She felt Rarity nod against the top of her head.

"That too, at least, for some of the more… iffy details," she confirmed. "But for now... tell me some more little bits about the foalsitter."

Sweetie nodded, and obliged. The more Rarity heard, the deeper her scowl became. But she dared not act on her anger; after all, what better way to channel it than on the pony responsible? That could come some other day, she hoped, out of Sweetie's sight and in full view of their parents.

So went that hope, anyway.

Third Day, Evening—Blossoming Report

The festivities went on well into the night, and when they finally concluded, the Crusaders got treated to a rare sight of Lance and his cohorts being lugged to bed. They had confetti and streamers and balloons in their manes and tails, and a few lingering icing smears from where the soldiers had to wipe their mouths for them.

"'nough… chocolate… for a year…" Lance moaned as he was carried down the hall.

"It's a good thing we have poison-nullification pills, sir. You'd have probably gotten sick along with any gryphon who ate chocolate otherwise," the soldier lugging Lance said. "That much in one sitting, with gryphon blood in your veins? That would be short of lethal, most likely."

"Probably… gonna regret… this tomorrow…" Lance groaned, his stomach gurgling uncomfortably as he spoke. The Crusaders pulled back into their shared room when the parade ended with a door opening and closing, and giggled to themselves.

"Looks like they partied too hard," Sweetie Belle chirped.

"What else can you do when Pinkie decides you're not leaving?" Scootaloo asked. "Especially when you celebrate getting your cutie mark years after you got it?"

Apple Bloom was busy scribbling down some more information for their project. She had lingering icing smears on her face, and a big grin set on her muzzle as she worked. Her friends grinned, and Sweetie Belle asked, "So, whatcha got?"

Apple Bloom set the pencil down. "I got a lot," she said, grinning as she checked over the new additions to the list she had made the night before.

No. 8: Irongrey Aerie doesn't treat cutie marks the same way that Equestria treats them; where Equestria celebrates, the Aerie just shrugs its shoulders and says 'fair enough.' This is largely due to the rest of Fantasia's attitude towards cutie marks; except for a few locations, they revile cutie marks and wish to see them purged. Funnily enough, they're willing to display the cutie marks of the top brass on the largest flags, as seen in the photographs of the Aerie's city.

No. 9: The Aerie uses airships for defending territories during war as well as the transportation of goods. However, they also have devices called planes, used for scouting out territory and used primarily during the Trials of Attrition.

No. 10: The magitek the Aerie uses originally belonged to ancient felines, gryphons, and hippogryphs before Faust and Godcat were sealed. The Aerie has simply improved on the magitek, thanks to NoLegs, an important figure in the army as well as the only cat who actively serves in the military. The gryphons who help maintain the magitek are all wingless, but able to fly and fight as efficiently as any soldier, as they pilot special planes that are used for the aforementioned scouting and fighting.

No. 11: Before the Trials of Attrition occurred, an event called the Royale Catastrophe happened, a bloody gladiatorial game that pitted cutie marked foals against each other to die. This served two purposes: to rid Fantasia of cutie marks, and to entertain careless, bloodthirsty adults who wanted to watch the foals suffer. Due to a runaway magic surge, Matt, Natalie, and a stallion named Lazarus put an end to the affair once and for all, when they were barely teenagers. This is a large reason why cutie marks aren't celebrated on Fantasia; they're seen as ill omens, when they're acknowledged at all outside of provinces the Aerie controls.

No. 12: The First Unified Army, the military of the Aerie, seems to be willing to recruit those that have been rejected by the rest of Fantasia: besides the aforementioned cat and wingless gryphons and the survivors of the changeling hives, they're willing to recruit ponies, diamond dogs, hippogryphs and even wraiths, provided they make the cut. Racism is strictly outlawed at the Aerie, as is victim shaming and 'head-in-the-sand management,' where ponies and other sentients ignore problems until they get too big to ignore. They also seem quite receptive to the values espoused by Harmony and Friendship, making them a probable ally to Equestria.

In addition to that, the first framework of the report was coming along nicely, complete with marked pages that would help ponies keep their place in the report. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle leaned over Apple Bloom's withers to better look at it as she beheld what she had penned. She handed the papers and pencil to Scootaloo so she could start writing out the next part of the Aerie's existence onto the report. Scootaloo giggled at the small table of contents that Apple Bloom had created.

Part I: Before the Aerie: Ragnarok, Hellfire, And Catastrophe

Part II: The Trials of Attrition: Birth Of War, Birth Of An Aerie

Part III: The Promise of Friendship: What The Aerie Is Like Now

Part IV: The Economy Of A Fantasian City-State

Part V: The Culture Of A Fantasian Military

Part VI: Magitek And You: A Beginner's Guide To The Aerie's Most Valuable Assets

Part VII: Food, Cuisine, And Cargo: What The Aerie Cultivates In Its Borders

Part VIII: Footnotes And References

So far, Apple Bloom had written out everything they had learned of the Catastrophe and the Trials of Attrition, complete with somewhat detailed drawings on the sides that featured the fearsome tank and Ragnarok in the appropriate chapters to better cement the piece. While it was largely done in pencil, complete with some eraser marks here and there, that meant there was more freedom of expression than drying ink could ever do for something like this. Scootaloo went to write right away, working on the third chapter of the report and smiling as it all began coming together.

This left Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom to sort out the photographs once again, except now the stack was even fatter with the pictures they had taken from aboard the planes. The newest photos showed off the Fantasian countryside, which spanned for miles around the Aerie, not unlike the sights that could be seen in Canterlot. But whereas Canterlot had plains and forests, the Aerie was a more mountainous region, with more mountains dotting the horizon on every side. It had enough plains and forests for its own cities below the ring of steel and within the ring of mountains if it so wished, but for right now it was its own shade of perfection.

Though, amusingly enough, there were some weird-looking devices in the stack of references. One featured a conveyor belt, with drones on it, either in pieces or whole. Others featured gears and chains, powered by glimmering crystals. Others still had changelings and gryphons in what seemed to be construction garb, complete with hardhats and working with wrenches and the like. "Is that a factory?" Sweetie Belle asked.

Apple Bloom considered the pictures, and went ahead and sorted through some more to find more devices being made. She nodded. "Why, you wanna check that out?" she asked.

"A factory?" Scootaloo asked, turning away from the report to peer at the pictures. "Given how many pipes the Aerie has, I wouldn't be surprised if they had one of those."

"So what do y'all think? Should we check it out tomorrow?" Apple Bloom asked. Scootaloo rubbed her chin with the pencil's eraser as she contemplated this.

"Well… we didn't get slime rancher cutie marks, nor did we get magitek pilot cutie marks… then again, we weren't really piloting the magitek so much as helping…" Scootaloo muttered, donning a lopsided frown as she weighed the options. "I dunno."

"Well, we probably need to look at it to complete the school report," Sweetie Belle pointed out. "We gotta know how the Aerie improves the designs of its magitek."

Scootaloo nodded, eraser still on chin. "True…" she conceded. "But factory worker cutie marks sound a little…" She made a face that was echoed by her friends. "It just… doesn't sound exciting at all."

"Yeah, but it could be exciting," Sweetie Belle argued. "At least, if we end up working here when we're older."

"And what would factory worker cutie marks look like, if we got them here?" Apple Bloom asked, tilting her head as she weighed her own question.

Another knock at the door had the trio wary, even as they turned to it. "Who is it?" Apple Bloom called.

"Maria," a young voice answered. The Crusaders shared glances, wondering what the young Fantasian hippogryph was doing this late at night.

"Come in," Apple Bloom said after a moment. The doorknob fumbled for a moment, and the door opened to reveal Maria clutching the knob with both front talons, her hind hooves dragging along the carpet as the door dragged her into the room. She let go of the knob, dropped to all fours, and trotted over.

"What are you doing?" Maria asked, her fluffy brown wings shuddering a bit. The Crusaders frowned; that was as obvious a question as they could come.

"We're writing a school report," Scootaloo said. Maria frowned. "Do you know what school even is?" Maria shook her head, her wings wilting.

"Haven't even got to go to a school," Maria said, head drooping somewhat in disappointment. The Crusaders shared looks again, taking pity on the poor filly. As boring as school was, even with the bullying and the bad days in between, at least they were learning things that would help them in their adult lives—and it seemed as though Maria didn't even have that.

Sweetie Belle piped up. "Don't worry," she said, trotting over to pat Maria on her feathery withers. Maria looked at her, perplexed. "It's never too late to get into a school. Sure, you might not choose which school you get into at first, but when you get bigger, and you graduate, you have your pick of the litter." Apple Bloom and Scootaloo gave her puzzled frowns. Sweetie shrugged. "What? It's what Rarity told me when I asked if I could pick a school later on down the road."

"But how do I get into a school?" Maria asked, still frowning sullenly. Goodness, the poor girl had a lot of questions.

"Well, usually, you have to have an adult enroll you into one," Sweetie Belle answered. "They talk with the teachers, see how much they can teach you, and once you learn enough and get old enough, you graduate, assuming you get passing grades." At that moment, someone rapped on the open door, and all turned to find Rhinoc staring at them. He was looking squarely at Maria.

"Okay, I know you're not my foal," Rhinoc said, making Maria wilt a little. "But it's your bedtime."

"But I don't wanna go to bed!" Maria protested, wings snapping bolt upright. She stamped a claw and continued, "I wanna go to school! It sounds fun!"

Rhinoc sighed. "Yeah, but if you wanna go to school, you gotta keep a sleep schedule. That way, you have the energy to do schoolwork and whatnot," he said, lighting his horn.

Maria responded by shouting out, "You're not my daddy!" and bolting out of the room, zooming between his legs and knocking a hoof from under him as she dashed, causing him to faceplant into the floor.

Rhinoc got right back up and buzzed his wings, flying after her and shutting the door on the way out. Within moments, they could hear Maria protesting, albeit with some really colorful language that no foal should have been uttering. Naturally, the Crusaders plugged their ears with their hooves until they were sure that the foulest of words ever spoken in modern language were being uttered no longer. Upon unplugging their ears, they heard silence, and little else.

"Yeesh, that girl had a potty mouth," Apple Bloom said, shuddering. "If I talked like that back at the Acres, or in school, I'd get a switching and grounding."

"Who taught her those words?" Sweetie Belle asked, wincing. The door opened again, and another soldier trotted in, this one a golden-eyed changeling whose tired face screamed 'I have seen this exact scenario play out before, and it wasn't pretty.'

The changeling sighed. "Well, she's been picking up the potty mouth from Lance and the others, so… I'll inform them that they need to do something about it," she said, frowning. "But now she's in bed, albeit in time-out for now…" Her wings drooped. "I don't think time-out will be effective with her, but we'll see."

"Anyway," the soldier went on, trotting to the trio, "how's the report going?"

Scootaloo went back to writing. "It's coming together nicely," she said.

"Can I see?" the soldier asked. The Crusaders shared looks, shrugged, and waited for Scootaloo to finish whatever sentence she was on before handing the budding report over.

"So… why are you reading our work?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"Well… I'm actually under orders from Lance to make sure you keep the report foal-friendly… or as foal-friendly as you can make war, anyway," the soldier replied, frowning. "You can't scar your classmates for life, after all…" The soldier peered closer at the report, seeming to squint at something. She scanned the papers, flipped pages, and halted at where Scootaloo had left off before returning the report to them. "I didn't think you'd mention the Royale Catastrophe, but… you three have done a good job keeping it concise and blunt, but in a way that won't really scar other children."

"Well, we had to explain where the giant swords of death and despair came from; Cheerilee would've probably docked points if we didn't," Sweetie said somewhat defensively. "Besides, such spells aren't really tossed around like candy in Equestria. By Tartarus, we use the Friendship Beam more often than those kinds of magic."

The soldier nodded. "Yeah, I guess that would make sense," she agreed. "And we have our own rules and regulations regarding such spells anyway, so maybe you should include that in your report somewhere, just in case."

"Can do," Scootaloo said, going back to writing the report's third chapter. "Say, do you remember what the old changeling Kings and Queens were like?" The soldier frowned and sighed.

"Well… I had to ask about the other Kings and Queens from the other hives once the Trials of Attrition ended… and…" The soldier wilted.

Sweetie Belle tilted her head. "Were they tyrants?"

The soldier nodded. "Fortunately, not too tyrannical, but they were not quite good at their jobs either. But they weren't the sort to follow their own rules in many situations—rather, the vast majority were lazy, and tried to use the hives' wealth to fund their own lifestyles." She shrugged. "They thought the geased gryphons couldn't slay them, because of the fact that they were royal changelings. Alas, they didn't bother picking up how to fight at any point during their long lives, and… well, they got steamrolled."

"So, they were not really effective at the whole ruling thing?" Apple Bloom asked. The soldier shook her head.

"Nope. Just kept letting things get worse and worse until they died. Hell, if they came back as wraiths and demanded to reclaim their thrones, we'd just saw off their horns and chuck 'em in the Iron Hold," the soldier replied, wings buzzing for a moment. "Before that, they just kept passing insane laws that benefited only them at the expense of their subjects. Truth be told, I'm glad they're gone, even if we're working under another crazy bastard who's on a tight leash."

The soldier sat down. "You know how skinny our wraithling is?" The trio nodded. "Well, things got that bad across all ten hives, and the Trials of Attrition made it even worse. If we hadn't found that slimes were endless wells of love when we did, we'd have been goners."

That made Scootaloo halt her writing. She looked at the soldier, eyes widening. "Wait, you'd have kicked the bucket?" she asked, somewhat disbelieving.

The soldier nodded again. "Yeah, and what's worse is the old Kings and Queens were quite… rotund in their last days. And when they died, we didn't get a chance to see if they deflated or not from all the love they had consumed. In fact, the discovery that slimes could produce love, even when war is raging, is what lead to the slime ranch being constructed." The soldier grinned. "That ranch is practically one of the pillars that uphold society here."

"So how were the old hives structured?" Sweetie Belle asked. "I mean, you obviously had Kings and Queens at the top of the food chain, but where were the nobles?"

The soldier shook her head again. "The old Kings and Queens… dissolved the nobility across all ten hives, way back when I was a little grub. That way, noling could succeed them to the throne. None of them had any children of their own either, so that ended up ensuring the royal lineages went extinct." She shifted to lay down to look at the children evenly. "None of them managed to reach old age; the Kings and Queens before them died, they were young and inexperienced in comparison, and quite spoiled and entitled."

"That being said…" The soldier lowered her head to be eye to eye with the three. "As young and inexperienced as our current leaders are, we're teaching them to not be like the old Kings and Queens, citing what they did so they don't make the same mistakes. In that regard, that's one of the very few good things I can say about them unironically." She wore a diabolical grin as she spoke. "And the gryphons are doing the same, in regards to their previous leaders. All in all, we'll make effective leaders out of the current crop."

The trio grinned at that news. Well, at least the Aerie had that going for them. "Any massive blunders yet?" Apple Bloom asked.

The soldier shook her head. "In regards to law-making, no. Generally, if they're unsure about something, they'll have us gathered in the biggest auditorium available and ask us if the law sounds good, but that has only happened once." Her wings buzzed again. "And then, when it came out that that particular would-be law was penned by the old gryphon leaders in the Iron Hold, we promptly scrapped it."

"Wait… prisoners are allowed to suggest laws?" Sweetie Belle asked, tilting her head.

The soldier shook her head again. "No, but one night Blue Crow decided he wanted to party too hard. Next thing we know, he gets inebriated, waddles to the Hold with a pencil and paper, writes down the insane would-be law as the old leaders talk his ears off, plops it in the office where most of the laws and such go, and stumbles to bed with barely any memory as to how he got back," she said, smirking slightly. "He… got a firm reminder to stay away from the alcohol afterwards."

"After that, we increased security in the Iron Hold, so that something like that little blunder doesn't happen again. And we do have one-night holding cells, just so whoever gets that drunk has a chance to sober up. Then we had to make underage drinking laws, when Lieutenant-General Windwood, then a mere Major at the time, decided she wanted to get into the good stuff." The soldier sighed and patted the three on the head with a hoof. "We ended up having to isolate her until she sobered up."

"Why?" Sweetie Belle asked, trying her best to envision a younger, drunk Anna. The shenanigans that ensued in the vision ranged from tame by Ponyville standards, to needlessly violent over some perceived slight.

"Well… you know how Pinkie Pie is normally, right?" the soldier asked. When the trio nodded, the soldier went on, "Well… Anna's like that when drunk. Except she's both happy and sad somehow. One moment she wanted to party like no tomorrow, and the next she was bawling her eyes out over something… really, really sensitive." The soldier's smirk fell, and she shuddered at the memory. "And no, we're under orders to not discuss that sensitive thing with anyone, at least… presently. It's a bit of a personal matter for her."

"Did the old leaders try to poison her mind?" Apple Bloom asked.

The soldier shook her head yet again, her frown still firm. "No, we didn't give them the chance to. Besides, I'm pretty sure they'd have given her grief for not being a pure gryphon anyway, which… wouldn't have helped her mood in the slightest," she answered. "Before you three ask, she's one-quarter gryphon. I know, she doesn't look the part, right? But we ran tests and confirmed it ourselves."

A door creaked open down the hallway, and the shuffling of what sounded like hooves could be heard from it. The soldier turned and sighed when a weary, wavering Anna shambled into the room, eyes glazed and tongue lolling out of her mouth. The soldier rose and moved to stabilize her. "Can't sleep?" the soldier questioned.

Anna shook her head with a small, unintelligible grumble. The only thing the Crusaders could make out was something about a sugar coma. The soldier nodded and turned to the three. "Pardon me for a moment, I gotta escort someone back to bed." With that, she escorted Anna out of the room and stayed in the hallway for a bit, followed by the sound of another door closing a bit of a distance away.

A few moments later, the soldier was back, sighing. "Sorry about that; she… might have eaten too much at Pinkie's insistence," she said, shuddering. The Crusaders winced, knowing full well how their stomachs felt when they were stuffed past capacity, and could only go one way or the other.

"Will she be okay tomorrow?" Scootaloo asked, wings drooping somewhat. The soldier nodded.

"She should be fit as a fiddle tomorrow," the soldier replied, some confidence leaking into her voice. "She's taken far worse than an upset stomach; besides, she's climbed the ranks anyway, so it's nothing too serious. We just gotta tell Pinkie to let them moderate how much they eat."

"But aren't coffee and chocolate toxic to gryphons… or those with gryphon blood in them?" Scootaloo asked, tilting her head.

The soldier mulled it over for a bit, then shrugged. "Well… I'm pretty sure Godcat created the gryphons and hippogryphs without that in mind… but so far, the only cases we've had of chocolate and coffee killing any gryphon are those who didn't take poison-nullifying pills to counter it…" She sighed. "Of course, Lance is… technically allergic, if he has too much in one sitting. So are Anna and Sarah, but they managed to bargain with Pinkie to take their medicine earlier."

The Crusaders tilted their heads. "Lance has gryphon blood? But he doesn't look like it..." Apple Bloom muttered.

The soldier shook her head. "No, he doesn't. But once the magitek was set up and tests could be run, we found that he's one-eighth gryphon, I think…" She scratched her chin with a hoof. "Or was it one-sixth? Hrm… I'll have to double-check with him…"

The trio shared looks. Apple Bloom piped up again, "So, y'all have a factory, right?"

The soldier nodded, snapping out of her reverie. "Yeah, why?"

"Can we check it out tomorrow?" Apple Bloom asked, smiling. "We wanna know how the Aerie makes new magitek to use, and improves any old rigs it finds."

The soldier frowned a little. Apple Bloom kept grinning at her, and the expression was soon matched by her friends. "There's no getting out of this, is there…" she muttered.

"Please?" the Crusaders chorused in unison.

The soldier sighed and wilted. "Alright. I'll have someone chaperone you to the factory in the center of the hivemass-mountain-thing tomorrow," she said. As the trio opened their mouths to shout in glee, she hastily cut them off with, "But, there are some places in the factory that we can't take you to—for instance, where the lava slimes are at. Or where the computers are; every other week, viruses keep trying to hijack our machines."

Apple Bloom frowned. "Like, how?"

"Well… they keep getting sent in from elsewhere, and somehow, the viruses come to life and wrench themselves out of the computers into the room they're in," the soldier said, frowning. "And every time this happens, our higher-ups have to beat the viruses senselessly to banish them to the hereafter. It's not a pleasant sight."

The soldier lit up her horn and projected forth a screen. It revealed a myriad of magitek computers, wired together and stacked atop one another in towers reaching the ceiling. The higher-ups of the Aerie, and NoLegs, were in the room… whaling at something. Gunshots, arrows, magic and blades clashed with an entity that looked garbled. It seemed to cycle through various forms, from slimes to bush-like creatures to distortions of the faces of those that fought it. It was painful to look at, as though Discord had gotten drunk and unleashed his magic on the unsuspecting technology just to see what would happen.

Unsavory cursing not meant for young ears filled the room as the entity dodged many attacks, and seemingly absorbed others with its mass distending and distorting to fill the room. It stretched, then flattened, and reformed—the attack didn't harm the quintet, without a scuff or scratch to be seen, yet somehow it was able to knock Anna out despite that, throwing her to the ground in a painful faceplant inches away from her strewn arrows. Natalie cast a quick spell, and she got up with a grumble to glare at the constantly-changing beast that was besieging the room.

"Again with this nonsense! How many more times is this damn thing going to keep bothering us?!" Anna yelled as she wobbled on her hooves.

"I'm starting to see why Whitefall's waste disposal plant gave this magitek to us before they tore it down! We've got to find a way to permanently end this thing!" Lance called, firing off bullets from a gunblade.

"I'm going to blame Redpine for this, until I have proof of their innocence regarding this situation!" Natalie hissed, throwing forth a shower of golden, hollowed-out stars that rained on the entity.

"Redpine isn't the least bit innocent in anything, and you know that!" Matt called as the creature stretched again to fill the room. Before any more could be shown, the projection shut off, and the soldier groaned and rubbed the back of her head with a hoof.

"Yeah… that thing, whatever it is, is hostile. We're still trying to figure out who made it and why," the soldier muttered. She patted the trio's heads with her free hoof. "But we have alarms for if it shows up, and they blare throughout the mountain, so the threat is quickly contained, at least." She grinned. "But, we can still do the factory tour tomorrow, even if the alarms sing. The… thing isn't given a chance to take over at all."

The Crusaders grinned and nodded. Tomorrow would probably be a good day to learn, even if the strange, eyeball-hurting thing dared show its shifting face again. Apple Bloom asked, "What're y'all gonna do with the Sunnytowners?"

The soldier shrugged. "Probably just lump them in with the ex-villagers of Greenwood, after informing them of the rules. We'll have to make sure both parties will get along first, anyway," she answered. She stood up and made for the door. "A'ight, you three get to bed soon. I'll have to watch the General to make sure he doesn't hurl." With that, she trotted out of the room and shut the door behind her, leaving the children to see if they could weasel in some more work on their project before sleep could claim them for the night.

Scootaloo resumed writing, grinning. "This project is gonna be so awesome, even if we don't get our cutie marks here," she said, wings buzzing as her enthusiasm drove her to keep going. "I can't wait for Cheerilee to see what we do with this report!"

Her friends started to share the enthusiasm, their own matching grins spreading on their faces. "I wonder if the Fantasians have a printer," Sweetie Belle said. "We could make backups of our report that way, if they do!"

"We gotta finish it first, but yeah, that would be amazing!" Apple Bloom agreed, jittering in place. "I can't wait to see the looks on Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon's faces when we roll out what we've got!"

"Forget that, the whole class'll be shocked when we finish this thing!" Scootaloo said, her grin widening as she wrote. "Maybe even the entire school will stop for the day when they hear what we did!"

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom began prancing in place at the prospect. "It'll be even better, if we get our cutie marks here!" they exclaimed in unison.

"Oh, now that would be super duper amazing!" Scootaloo agreed, continuing to write. Her hoof was a flurry of motion, the pencil scritching and scratching as it scrawled out the words onto the page in her other hoof.

"Well, what if we read it aloud as we write?" Sweetie Belle asked, causing Scootaloo to look at her. "What? Rarity makes me read out my homework whenever a writing assignment is involved. She said it has to have proper form, on top of sounding natural. She said it was for a better grade or something when I asked her the last time we worked on a report together."

Scootaloo halted, and tapped her chin with the eraser. "Hrm… my aunts usually have me do something similar, but only if I'm really proud of the assignment or whatever…" She shrugged. "And… I'm not proud of most assignments like this." She turned to regard Apple Bloom. "Does Applejack have you do that, too?"

Apple Bloom shook her head. "Sometimes Granny Smith does, though," she answered. "Big Mac does as well, but only when he's done all his chores."

Scootaloo nodded, and laid out the papers on the nearest table, where the picture stack and the list were already located. She beckoned her friends over, and both of them trotted over to behold the first part of the report. Sweetie Belle grinned, lit her horn and, after receiving nods from her companions, proceeded to trot to another table with the report in her magical glow. She climbed onto the table like it was an impromptu stage, and shuffled the papers so they were orderly before she read the first part aloud in her best, and most dramatic, voice.

"Part I: Before the Aerie: Ragnarok, Hellfire, And Catastrophe. Not many ponies outside of Equestria have dismal tales regarding their cutie marks, and if they do, it's usually kept under tight wraps. Indeed, it seems the opposite holds true of Fantasia: whatever cutie marks appear there always have something bleak regarding them, whether misused or, in some cases, completely catastrophic wherever applied. For this reason, not many who are from Fantasia are willing to share their cutie mark stories, for the fear of being persecuted."

Sweetie Belle looked at her friends, who looked at her with nods. Taking that as her sign to continue, she went on with the report—they had to psyche themselves up after all, to see this thing through and be able to read it aloud to an audience.

Sweetie Belle looked at her friends, who grinned and nodded. "Cinched it!" Scootaloo said, wings buzzing. Something hit her suddenly, and she grinned wider. "The soldier said that Lance ordered her to look at our assignment to keep it 'foal-friendly,' right?" At the confused nods of her companions, she began prancing in place excitedly. "Well, what if we end up reading it to Lance when we finish it?"

Apple Bloom grinned. "And get his hoofprint of approval? Well, light me up and say I'm whistlin' dixie! A hoofprint from him would be the perfect thing to end the report with!" she said.

Sweetie grinned. "And not to mention the other higher-ups' hoofprints, too. That would be the cincher for the report!" she chirped. "That's, like, the highest seal of approval we could get here!"

"Oh yeah, are we reading it to the higher-ups?" Scootaloo asked, only to receive nods of affirmation from her friends. Sweetie Belle hopped off the impromptu stage and trotted up to them with eyes sparkling. "Then we'll make this the bestest report they ever heard of everything that gave birth to the Aerie!"

"Cutie Mark Crusaders Historians, yay!" the three chorused in unison, clapping their hooves together at once.