Marking Time

Chapters

01. | The Staff
02. | Treble Clef
03. | Time Signature

01. | The Staff

Author's Note

Thank you for your interest in my second-ever fic. As I am sure you will have noticed, it is a sequel to my first story, Crystals & Chitin. Reading that story is not required to understand this one. They occur in the same continuity but any characters that may cross over between the two will be adequately introduced here.

Now, a word of warning.

The setting of this story is a bit grittier than the previous one. I am leaving it marked Teen, but if enough people feel the line into Mature is crossed, I will adjust the rating.

Similarly, certain mature-themed tags can be added if necessary, but I want to walk the fine line without scaring anyone away. Just as I don't draw anything NSFW, this story will never devolve into clop either. The content in this first chapter is as edgy as it will get. It is included here to paint a picture of life below Las Pegasus and will rarely if ever be a focus of the story.

01. | The Staff

Show business. Half a year ago, I would have scoffed at the suggestion that I'd find myself considering such a drastic lifestyle change. I was, after all, far too important to worry about entertaining others, yet that was precisely where I ended up. Like so many others before me, apparently, I left the only home I'd ever known to move to the bright lights of Las Pegasus.

"Miss Aria, you're on in five," a bored-sounding voice filtered through the door separating us.

"Yes, thank you," I called back, knowing that my breath was most likely wasted as the bartender was simply going through the motions. He was kind enough, albeit more than a little cynical; unlike so many others I approached, he did offer me time on his stage. However, the amount of grime endeavoring to hide the spiderweb of cracks shot through the vanity mirror I was using told me everything I needed to know about the quality of entertainment he expected to find.

After all, this wasn't quite a dressing room. It was more like a small office converted into a makeshift changing area. The establishment owner added the stage himself and made room for the entertainers by shoving the contents of his office into a pile along the back wall. I couldn't tell you what those contents were as he thankfully hid them by nailing a dirty blanket to the ceiling, dividing the room in half like a greasy curtain. My curiosity wasn't significant enough to touch it. Besides, I had other things on my mind.

This would be my first time on stage, even one as slapdash as this. I was confident it was constructed with little more than two or three bar tables whose legs had been removed, resting on top of milk crates.

In a smaller town like Appaloosa or Ponyville, it would have been considered a rather seedy little dive bar that would attract a particular type of reputation for both itself and those who worked there. However, here in the urban sprawl which grew beneath the cloud-top city of sins, it was just one of many.

All things considered, I wasn't very nervous. I had spent my entire life pretending to be somepony I'm not, so this was merely another mask to wear. I have been many things in my life, from lowly animal caregiver to long-distance courier and a brief stint as a city guard recruit. I even tried my hoof at child guardianship for a short time. I wasn't overly good at any of those jobs. Some of them conflicted with my interests at the time, while others were simply too mundane to hold my attention for very long. Of course, there were a few other part-time gigs here and there between those extremes, but nothing of any real significance. Grocer. Sales Clerk. Dutiful daughter… that was the most demanding role I've played—and the one I was least cut out for.

"Well, a girl's gotta eat," I whispered as I stepped out into the taproom. I made my way toward the corner of the room where countless ponies with music-related cutie marks had poured their souls into the microphone. They'd hoped to impress a half dozen local cider addicts who rarely even noticed somepony was back there, and now it was my turn.

I knew what kind of place this was and what to expect from my audience. I had spent a few evenings sitting at the bar earlier in the week, watching the mares try desperately to be noticed. Of course, I stomped my hooves for each of them and watched their dejected faces light up as a result. I could feel the swelling gratitude they directed toward me, and I ate it up.

Many of those mares were impressive vocalists, but that's not surprising, given most ponies were prone to breaking out into song on a whim. It would take something extraordinary to stand out, especially in a city like Las Pegasus.

Luckily, 'extraordinary' is something I am rather good at.

"Good evening," I began, fully understanding that nopony was listening to me yet. "My name is DaCapo Aria. This is my first night here, so I don't have very much prepared for you all. I suppose we'll just get things started and see what happens."

I had no band or background singers, and the bar certainly didn't provide any. I wasn't exceptionally knowledgeable about popular music nor experienced with writing my own material. Still, I studied everything I could find on music theory and spent so much time struggling with the lyrics that I felt confident that, at the very least, I wouldn't embarrass myself.

I clutched the aging microphone in my hoof, removing it from its wobbly stand, and took a deep breath. For better or worse, this would be my debut.

♫ Did you notice: that I fell in love with you?
♫ Before Equestria, how long has that been?
♫ All I know - Is this love within my heart
♫ Is longing to soar

♫ Can't you see - what you mean to me?
♫ I wish you could read my mind
♫ And these feelings - I never did find
♫ The right words to say

The room was dim enough that I had difficulty seeing if anypony had noticed that I'd begun to sing. It didn't seem like it, which was more than a little disappointing, but I continued nonetheless.

♫ Just like snow, all my love
♫ Falls to earth from above
♫ Over time - it stacks up high
♫ And reaches for the sky

♫ Hold me tight
♫ I wish I'd never seen the light
♫ You gave me a fright
♫ This can't be how it's meant to end
♫ But I can't turn back time now

♫ Darling, I love you
♫ I only wish that wasn't true
♫ If only I could forget
♫ What if we'd never met?
♫ Inside my heart, I know
♫ Wendigo Snow

Halfway through my one-pony a capella, I came to a realization. Before this moment, I had never actually sung in front of anypony else. Of course, I was aware of music and practiced while writing the song, but my appreciation of it as a medium of expression is relatively recent.

♫ Did you notice: I gave you everything?
♫ You won't acknowledge my great sacrifice.
♫ So I stay awake at the window pane
♫ With breath fogging the glass

♫ Will the snow in my heart
♫ Melt away with the pain?
♫ Some day, I pray that it might
♫ Just take one friendship's flame

This must be how Fluttershy feels whenever she sings to her animal friends, I thought to myself.

Her voice certainly soothed me when I was at my lowest, but it wasn't until I stood upon that tiny stage that I recognized just how valuable music could be. Now that I was the one who was singing, I found it even more cathartic than I had expected. It was familiar, like a feeling that I'd nearly forgotten.

♫ Hold me tight
♫ I wish I'd never seen the light
♫ You gave me a fright
♫ This can't be how it's meant to end
♫ But I can't turn back time now

♫ I miss you
♫ Every thought I have is one of you
♫ So I'll just stand here alone
♫ Since tonight's more of the same
♫ Simply fall forever

♫ Ohh!
♫ Wendigo Snow

I gave everything I had to the penultimate line, then drew out the final few notes for as long as my remaining air allowed. Each note gradually disappeared into a breathy whisper. Once I was done, I could almost hear the non-existent instrumentals fade away.

I had based the lyrics on a previous—let's call it a relationship—and was quite proud of how it turned out, even if I had exaggerated the extent of my genuine feelings on the topic more than a little bit. While writing the piece, I analyzed other songs known to be popular in Las Pegasus at the time and realized the story I was telling had to be embellished to fit the prevalent mold. I took my commitments seriously.

Which was effort wasted, as it turned out.

While I didn't expect much of a response, it still stung a bit when I was rewarded with exactly what I expected—dead silence. Not a soul acknowledged my performance, and I couldn't feel a single ounce of joy in the room. The only sound I heard was the clinking of a bottle knocked over as one of the locals stumbled toward the door.

I briefly bowed and cantered off toward the changing area to remove the sequined red dress I'd worn for the occasion. I could have taken it off right there in the taproom for all the attention I'd received that evening, but I wanted to… perhaps 'maintain' is the wrong word, but 'build' a particular reputation for myself as a lady.

There is a reason that so few earth ponies indulge in couture beyond hats or scarves. A unicorn has the advantage of fine manipulation through magical means. Pegasi have incredibly dextrous wings, while Earth ponies have… brute strength. While that does aid in removing clothing, it gets expensive replacing your entire wardrobe every few weeks. Those who prefer to reuse our apparel have to take our time, which is usually a good enough reason not to bother with it in the first place.

Once I had successfully shrugged my way out of the delicate piece of cloth, I gently folded it up the way I had been shown and returned it to the small cardboard box it had come in from the store I'd rented it from.

I knew that few ponies would pay attention to me in a place like this, but I still wanted to take my debut seriously. I had very few bits when I'd boarded the train that brought me to this town, most of which were already gone if I was being honest. I didn't even own a single piece of clothing, much less one as grandiose as the scandalous red dress I'd just packed away. Renting it meant eating into my food budget; thankfully, I didn't need to eat much or very often.

I placed the light box on my back and briefly stopped at the bar to collect the few paltry coins I was promised. They were barely enough to afford a single meal, but I gratefully accepted them and stepped out into the evening.

I was sure I'd be back, even if the pay wasn't very significant. The bar was special—and I use that term loosely—for two reasons: first, they allowed me to perform, which was substantial on its own. And second, because it was located just a few blocks from where I was staying.

The town below the clouds was anything but glamorous. Countless ponies have come to make their fortunes—or to lose them—and found themselves unable to leave for one reason or another.

Las Pegasus, like those who flock there, wears many faces. It is a town purpose-built to separate the foolish from their money. It is a city of bright lights, bombastic parties, and clandestine rendezvous. The ponies in charge of the city entertain their guests while robbing them blind, growing richer by the minute and ruining a life or two along the way.

Strangely, ponies know this, yet they don't seem to mind. The temptation is too great, and more than a few convince themselves that they will be the exception to the rule.

Those who make it big either head home prosperous and happy or move into the city above the clouds to look down on those who did not have their level of skill or luck.

The majority of visitors have a good time. They break about even, laughing among friends as they share stories of their weekend conquests on the train ride home.

The unfortunate few who lose everything or borrow a few too many bits in the hope of turning their luck around don't always make it home. These ponies often can't afford the exorbitant prices of the return train ticket and usually have no choice but to live here, in the unnamed underbelly. It is one of the darker jokes among residents here: what happens in Pegasus stays in Pegasus.

Don't get me wrong—we still claimed to be part of Las Pegasus, but everypony knew the truth. The actual city loomed overhead, casting its opulent shadow over our lives on the ground. The only thriving terrestrial district was centered around the train station, where all the tourists arrived and booked their hot air balloons up to the hotels.

Some who took up permanent residence were too ashamed to go home bitless; others sold everything they owned just to get here and had nothing to go home to. A few simply refused to admit they made a mistake, settling in until they succeeded, which seldom worked out for them.

The result is a town full of hardship, broken dreams, and the slum lords who profit from them.

After a short walk down one of the many cramped backstreets, I found myself in front of a flimsy door. The alley my tiny rented room resided in was no different than any other in town. It was flanked by windowless businesses and poorly crafted apartments—many of which had been converted by desperate young mares with only one asset left to sell into something far less wholesome but infinitely more profitable.

One such entrepreneur lived next door to me. She was a sweet little earth pony named Misty Gaze, though I am sure that wasn't always the case.

Her burnt orange mane contrasted sharply with her eggshell fur. Considering her forget-me-not cutiemark, I strongly suspected her real name was closer to Rosylva or Blue Belle. She was captivating and sociable, with a beautiful smile that unfortunately never quite reached her eyes.

Like everypony else, she most likely came to Las Pegasus looking to start modeling or find a career in fashion design; maybe she simply wanted to work behind the scenes as a production florist. Regretfully, I never asked her, but one thing was obvious, she didn't move to a city like this to degrade herself—that sort of thing only happens after you give up.

Her apartment's single window was covered in a red bedsheet, backlit by her bedroom's lamp, faded by the sun, and stained by her profession. Some nights, as I lay in bed trying to ignore the sounds filtering through the thin walls, I gave consideration to her line of work; it almost had to have paid better than what I had just earned, and, more often than not, it certainly sounded like she enjoyed the job.

Too many of the windows in my neighborhood were shrouded in much the same way. Red is the definitive color found in most alleyways and often the only one considering the price of paint.

"So, how'd it go, darlin?" Misty's voice drawled softly from her open doorway as though we were sharing a secret. She often spoke in a sort of whispery voice, especially when outdoors. I sometimes wondered if Misty was hiding from somepony—although in this case, I had little doubt that it was simply because she expected the worst-case scenario.

I turned toward her and smiled. "Oh, you already know how Scrat's patrons are," I replied. "Those ponies are more interested in getting to the bottom of their mugs than in being serenaded by some nobody whose stars haven't yet left her eyes."

She nodded knowingly as she stepped closer, wrapping one hoof around my shoulders and sitting down. "So yer not too broke up about it? I've seen too many precious young things lose their ambitions after the sort of reception Scrat and his regulars dole out."

"Well," I began, sitting myself down next to her, "it's not like I was expecting to be spotted by a talent agent on the first night and whisked away into the clouds. I knew nopony was going to care. Tonight was more for me to get used to being on stage than anything else."

At this, she shared my smile and rubbed my shoulder. "That's won'erful to hear, sugar. It's not many ponies startin' out who understand it takes time." She squeezed me once, then dropped her hoof to the floor. "I take it, then, that yer gonna keep at it?"

"Well, of course, I plan to keep going. Nopony who's serious about their goals gives up after their first attempt," I said, perhaps a little thoughtlessly. "Oh, I'm sorry Misty. I didn't—"

"No, no. It's a'right. I know ya didn't mean nothin' by it, and I gave it a fair bit of time before makin' my bed. Sure, I'm disappointed in how things turned out, but not in myself. I did my best; it wasn't good enough for this town." She let out a quick sigh before standing up. "Enough lookin' at the past, darlin'. Tonight was your debut, so let's look to the future! Why don't you come with me to Smooth Moves? We'll grab a drink, do a bit of dancin' and celebrate Las Pegasus' newest rising star. Whadda ya say?"

I also got to my hooves but hesitated to share her enthusiasm. "I don't know, Misty. Tonight isn't much to celebrate, and I can't really afford to spend the evening in a nightclub."

She blew a raspberry at me. "Pish posh. Everypony starts somewhere, and besides, it's mares night. The usual entrance fee is waived, and with how cute you are, you won't be paying for a single cup of cider all night, I guarantee it."

She made a good point, and I wouldn't mind turning a few heads. Where others would often shrink away from random engagement, I had always enjoyed being the center of attention when it was appropriate. Even when I didn't fully understand why ponies directed their appreciation my way—I ate it up. It was one of the reasons I chose to try my hoof at show business.

I suppose I could have just as readily become an actor as I did a lounge singer. The only reason I chose the latter was a matter of simple mathematics; there were significantly more job opportunities on stage than on-screen.

"Sure," I said. "Why not? I've only been to a nightclub a few times since coming to town. It could be fun."

With that settled, she recommended I put my rented dress back on and meet her in front of our apartment block in an hour. Given the suggested delay, I assumed she intended to put something on herself and probably apply some makeup.

In hindsight—and it may be rude of me to admit this—but I suspect that her plan to share my evening may have been an opportunity for her to vicariously live out an abandoned dream, even if she didn't realize that that was what she was doing. Luckily, it worked out well for both of us.

The trot down the street to Smooth Moves was more or less uneventful. The occasional wolf whistle wasn't unexpected, but even those served to boost my ego and recharge the old batteries.

"Good evenin', darlin," Misty quipped quite cheerily to the bouncer standing guard at the entrance. "How's it been, Muscles?"

The bouncer looked our way, taking only a moment before recognizing Misty. The stallion had a dark blue coat reminiscent of Princess Luna's and a close-cropped silvery mane. I was immediately impressed by his physique; he was built like a soldier, which you rarely see in unicorns, and seemed to have a few scars on his chest and left foreleg to reinforce that belief. As we approached, his magenta eyes transitioned from a piercing stare to a more laid-back expression.

"Ah, Miss Gaze, living the dream. Coming in tonight or looking for work?"

"We're dancing tonight, big guy. My friend here is celebrating her first steps into stardom, you know," she said, smiling and exuberantly as she turned her face toward me. "DC, this is Muscles. Not his real name, of course, but that's what I call him. He told me once what it really is, but I was distracted at the time."

The fact that she could effortlessly drop double entendres like that without blushing was almost praiseworthy. The fact that I wasn't even sure if it was a double entendre or if she legitimately was distracted by something else was equal parts impressive and heartbreaking to me.

"Muscles, this is DaCapo Aria, and you'd do well to remember that name. She has the voice of a princess, she does."

I stepped forward as Muscles looked me over, quickly evaluating if I was a threat while surreptitiously checking me out. His decision to work at Smooth Moves was aptly-made; it was flattering.

"Welcome to the club, Miss Aria. The two of you can step right inside," he said, to the annoyance of several stallions waiting in line against the wall, who made their displeasure known in various ways. "Free admission to all lovely mares tonight; we've got the usual DJ in the booth, so feel free to request whatever your hearts desire. Enjoy your evening."

With a quick glow of his horn, the doors swung open, subjugating us to loud music and neon lights filtering through thick smoke machine mist.

Misty and I entered the club and headed straight to the bar. True to her word, it took only minutes for a pair of stallions to join us and order a round of cider. After emptying our cups, the four of us pushed through the crowd and down onto the dance floor. Once there, we enjoyed ourselves to music that was nearly felt more than heard. My ears rang, and we had to shout to hold even the most basic conversation, but it was fun.

After a few songs, Misty and I excused ourselves from the hopeful stallions. We returned to the bar, where we repeated the process twice more with other wingponies who thought too highly of themselves or perhaps too lowly of our decision-making skills.

"So are ya enjoyin' yourself, darlin'," Misty half-yelled over the music that even from the bar was overwhelming.

"I am," I replied, smiling at the closest thing I had to a friend. "This place is absolutely alive with emotion. Joy, eagerness, hope, wild abandon, and a fair bit of rejection. A cross section of the modern pony all under one roof!"

At that moment, a chuckle from behind the bar drew my attention. The pony standing there was a tea green pegasus with a swept-back indigo mane and shocking orange eyes. He used his wings to dry a cider mug while eavesdropping on our conversation.

"Sorry, sorry. It's not often such a glamorous young mare as yourself so perfectly describes my establishment's usual patronage right in front of me. Forgive me, my name is Smooth Talker; I am the sometimes proud owner of this nightclub. May I have your name, miss?"

"DaCapo. DaCapo Aria, though my friends simply call me DC," I replied, setting my recently emptied mug on the bar between us. "I apologize. I didn't mean to speak poorly of your customers."

He chuckled again and waved his hoof back and forth. "No, no, no. You are absolutely right about them. Most of the time, there really is a sense of desperation here as the dregs of society try every underhoofed trick they can think of to ensure they don't go home alone. Most of them do, anyway."

Smooth looked over at my companion as he said this, with recognition crossing his face. "Our dear Misty Gaze here will surely back me up on this. She's seen almost all of them sitting at this very bar, haven't you Misty?"

Until that point, Misty had been scanning the dance floor, but she spun on her stool to face the bar once addressed.

"Oh sure," she slurred, obviously one mug beyond her limit. "All sorts of creeps in here, but you can always tell who they are. They pay way too much to get your attention and way too little afterward.

"Oh," she exclaimed as if she had just noticed who we were speaking with, "hey DC, this is Smooth Talker. He owns this whole place!" She then closed one eye to better focus on his face and leaned over the bar as if sharing a momentous secret. "This here mare, DaCapo, is gonna be a big star. Big star! She just held her debut tonight, that's why we're celebrating!"

Smooth smiled as though he were humoring a rambunctious filly recounting her imaginary adventures with Daring Do or the Wonderbolts. "Oh yeah," he asked as he turned his attention back toward me. "What kind of star are we talking about? Looking at that stunning dress, I would normally guess 'runway model,' although her use of the word 'debut' leads me to believe 'idol' instead. Unless you want to lose the sequins and allow me to continue guessing based on your cutiemark—and you won't catch any arguments from me if you do—I simply have to know your special talent."

The way he said that was dripping with sleaze, yet somehow I didn't doubt for a moment that his words were practiced and effective, especially after more than a few cups of cider. He seemed to live up to his name, but I was no easy prey nor stranger to verbal manipulation and rose to his challenge.

"Oh, it's nothing very significant. Misty's exaggerating; she's never even heard me sing before," I said. "It was my first gig in town, sure, but it was just a single song at Scrat's Bar. Hardly anything to write home about, really. It's not like I was expecting to draw a crowd in a dingy little place like that, you know? But, everypony has to start somewhere."

I could see the wheels turning in his head as he—unsolicited, I might add—refilled my mug with something that smelled slightly stronger than what I had ordered and set it down before me, which I immediately held as though I intended to take a sip.

"New to town, eh? Well, that explains why I didn't recognize you. A mare like you stands out from the masses and demands all eyes. Tell you what..." he began, obviously switching into business mode.

Here it comes, I thought. Here is where he offers me the world while slowly trying to work his way into my bed, just like every other pony with a dash of power. Sorry pal, not gonna happen, but I will happily take advantage of whatever you are about to offer.

"Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night. After we eat, maybe you could sing for me a bit, and we'll see where it goes. I happen to own a pretty popular venue here, I am sure we could find some stage time for you to expand your audience a bit. What do ya say?"

Misty lit up immediately, shaking me by the shoulders as she squealed excitedly. "Do it, DC! Smooth's good! Erm, I mean, he's good to his word... it's such an opportunity to sing here! You'll be up in the clouds in no time!"

The smirk on Smooth Talker's face when she said that wasn't lost on me. Obviously, there was some history between him and Misty Gaze, but to be fair, it didn't seem like she regretted anything that may have happened between them, so at least he wasn't likely to be overly aggressive.

"Maybe not tomorrow, Smooth, but I will certainly keep your offer in mind," I said, showing him that I was more than capable of setting my own terms and was in no way as impaired as my companion. "For now, Misty and I should be going. She's in no shape to remain in public, and I want to consider your generous offer in the morning, after sleeping on it."

"Of course," came his gracious reply. "My offer stands. Any time you want a leg up, just stop by and let me know. I will be more than happy to consider your talents on my stage."

I couldn't be sure if he was as big a sleazeball as first impressions indicated, but I didn't feel any malice or deception in his voice. His choice of words rubbed me the wrong way but it could have been a product of his environment, having been around the dregs of society, as he put it, for so long. Or, he might have been really good at hiding his true intention. The jury was still out.

Either way, I led Misty out the front door, said a brief goodbye to Muscles, and returned to the alley where our apartments resided. Once I ensured she was safely in her bed, I turned out her light and did what I could to secure her door, which I had just discovered had no functioning lock.

I entered my flat, shrugged my way out of the red dress for the second time that night, and flopped down on my bed. Boxing it up could wait until morning—which wasn't nearly as far away as I would have liked—and I had a lot to think about.

I had an opportunity that would be foolish to ignore, but I wasn't gullible enough to believe Smooth Talker had my best interest at heart. Nopony gives a complete stranger such promises of immediate exposure unless there was something in it for him. He hadn't heard me sing, so recognizing talent would be a flimsy excuse. I will acknowledge that my physical appearance turns more than a few heads, but would that be enough to make such promises?

Yawning, I grudgingly put the topic to bed and followed suit.

02. | Treble Clef

I stepped out of my apartment the following morning and immediately knocked on Misty's door. I wanted to be sure that she was all right, considering the state I had left her in the night before. She had a significant amount to drink, and I felt at least somewhat responsible for her well-being, having put her to bed without forcing an equally impressive amount of water down her throat to avoid the worst side effects of cheap cider.

"Misty," I called out, hammering on her door a second time. "It's DC. Are you good in there? Do you need anything?"

A murmured protest filtering through the closed doorway was her only response, but at least I was satisfied that she was still breathing. Some days, that's all you could reasonably expect from her before noon.

On the other hoof, I usually rose with the sun, so considering it was at least an hour past sunrise meant I had already lost potential opportunities for the day.

My first destination for the day was the local convenience store. A quick prepackaged sandwich and a single-serve carton of orange juice usually made the rest of the day bearable. The other early risers of the community seemed to unanimously agree that the area directly in front of the store was the ideal place to loiter and spread gossip, which is how I learned about the entertainer vacancy at Scrat's Bar in the first place.

Coincidentally, Scrat was among them that morning, so I made it a point to greet him. Remaining cordial with the stallion who paid your bills was just good business; as a result, I managed to secure another evening on his stage. I'd be reusing the same song again, but until somepony bothered to listen to it, I doubted there was much need to write another.

I carried my breakfast back to the apartment and sat on the only provided piece of furniture—a bed—to eat it while I resumed my train of thought from the night before with a slightly clearer head.

Smooth Talker doesn't seem to lack anything, I mused, absentmindedly chewing on the stale rosebud sandwich. His club is established and likely one of the most popular businesses on the ground. He has a house DJ, meaning he doesn't need additional live entertainers unless they are famous or can otherwise draw a crowd.

I supposed he could have merely been dangling the carrot before my eyes, hoping to earn some company for the evening. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time somepony had tried that. Just whisper a few sweet assurances that you have no intention of keeping, and it's not surprising that you get what you want—and once you have it, the promise no longer matters.

That was the most logical reasoning. It made the most sense in Smooth's position, but I wasn't convinced that was the only motivation. There were plenty of other mares in the club, many of which were tourists he'd never encounter again, so why risk complicating things with a local?

He obviously has a history with Misty Gaze, I thought to myself, finishing off the last of my breakfast with a long pull from the juice box. Maybe he made the offer in good faith as a favor, or apology, to her? I don't think he was one of her customers, so perhaps they dated each other in the past, or maybe she worked for him before changing careers?

"Either way," I said aloud, mostly to break the silence that had begun to feel oppressive, "it is something to keep in mind. I am sure I can take advantage of the opportunity, I just need to be patient. If he has ulterior motives, he won't be able to hide them indefinitely."

The rest of the afternoon passed in obscurity, the only noteworthy event being the arrival of a particularly crowded train near sunset. Most of its passengers made their way toward the balloon rentals, but more than is common remained on the ground, strangely interested in the local bars.

Curious, I, too, made my way into one such bar, Scrat's. I didn't usually make it a point to follow tourists, but the snippets of conversation I overheard piqued my interest. One young couple discussed an acrobatic routine while a group of five argued over whose name should appear first on some list.

Small groups arriving together was by no means out of place in Las Pegasus, but rarely did such groups talk about anything other than the shows they intended to view together. These ponies all seemed to be discussing shows they intended to perform together, which made them stand out.

I was surprised to see Scrat behind the counter, filling cider mugs with a smile. I had lived in the neighborhood for nearly a year and had become convinced his face was physically incapable of the muscle movements required to do so.

Once he noticed me come in, his smile, if possible, grew even more prominent. "Ah, DaCapo! Great timing; I was starting to worry all these paying customers would have to drink there cider in silence. You asked for a set this morning, here's your chance to actually be heard. Get up there!"

The throng of customers continued to speak amongst themselves, some fairly loudly, so I was reasonably confident silence wasn't their primary concern, but I wasn't about to look that gift horse in the mouth.

Who knew all it took for old Scrat to cheer himself up was money, I thought to myself as I made my way toward the rickety little stage. I wasn't dressed for the occasion, but I assumed their own conversations would be far more interesting than any lounge singer might prove to be.

Surprisingly, I keep finding new ways to be wrong.

I skipped my introduction, expecting to be ignored, and began singing softly. I chose the same song I debuted the night before but was rewarded with a noticeable reduction in background chatter this time.

Ponies are listening to me.

The elation I felt was indescribable. After the song's tempo was established and the first verse had been shared with the room, somepony among them began humming along with the music, followed by their companion sitting across the table.

Two ponies out of twenty or so in attendance, but that was more than enough to convince me my time wasn't wasted. I grew more confident as the song continued and sang a little louder. A few more ponies took notice of me; some paused their conversations to listen, while others simply stared at me while continuing their dialogue.

Once I finished, the room filled with faint applause. It wasn't thunderous by any means, but it was enough. I could feel their appreciation and surprise. I made them happy.

"Thank you, everypony. My name is DaCapo Aria, and this is only my second night performing. I hope you all enjoyed it," I said, out of breath. "Whatever competition seems to have brought you to Las Pegasus, I hope you all do well! If you want to speak with me, or buy me some cider, I will be at the bar with our host, Scrat."

I stepped off the stage and wandered to the back of the room, where I found Scrat pouring a mug of cider.

"I didn't know you could actually sing, Miss Aria," he said, sliding the drink across the bar, which came to rest right in front of me.

I took a sip and set the mug back down again before looking him right in the eye. "What are you talking about? I sang in here yesterday."

Scrat shook his head slowly. "Not like that you didn't. Yesterday you tried too hard. Your pronunciation was too crisp for such a sad song, your fancy dress seemed like compensation for some perceived inadequacy, and you lacked any connection with your audience. You were confident enough, but you felt clinical, almost robotic. You sang a love song, but it sounded like you'd never been in love. We've all seen detached ponies with delusions of grandeur, and the regulars here usually ignore them until they can prove they aren't just thrill seekers or self-entitled brats looking for fame."

"Imagine my surprise," he continued, "when that same little pony asks for another opportunity to sing bright and early the following morning and agrees to get on stage without concern for pay when things get busy. Then, she draws additional customers through the front door simply by being heard from the street? Now that is an improvement. That is what ponies want to see. I just might have to hire you on a more permanent basis."

I sat there, stunned. Scrat wasn't wrong... I've been around ponies who were in love with each other my entire life but have probably never experienced it personally. His usual demeanor hid a surprisingly analytical mind and more than a passing knowledge of musical theory. I hadn't considered any possibility beyond his patrons being too deep into their mugs to pay attention to a newcomer. Was it possible they paid significantly more attention than anticipated, hoping to be impressed?

"I... ah, thank you, Scrat. It seems I underestimated you and the local lushes." I took a mouthful of the sweet cider and glanced around the room as I considered his word further.

A few young stallions scattered around the various friend groups met my eye before turning away, but for the most part, conversations resumed once the entertainment ended. Whatever drew them here was obviously of great interest to them. I made a mental note to find out what that might be.

A few hours later, I again stood upon Scrat's stage and delivered yet another rendition of Wendigo Snow. It didn't prompt any audience participation this time, but the locals paid attention and offered polite applause once I had finished. Apparently, Scrat had informed each of them that I was worth listening to as he filled their orders. A few tips awaited me at the bar, and my official pay was nearly twice what I took home the night before.

I could get used to this.

My sleep that evening was occasionally marred by the sounds of business next door, but I didn't mind. I achieved my pay goals today; let Misty reach hers.

The following day, I stepped outside with the intent of purchasing my usual breakfast when I was greeted by an unexpected sight. Misty was sitting in her doorway, excited and far more alert than was typical at this time of day.

"DC, darlin', just the gal I wanted to see," she gushed. "You got any plan for next week? Tell me you're free, girl, because 'ave I got a prize!"

Intrigued, I closed the distance between us and sat down.

"Can't say I have anything on the calendar just yet. What's got you so eager," I asked. Anything that could wake Misty this early or keep her attention long enough to keep her from going to bed in the first place was worth learning about.

"My client last night didn't have any bits on him, the swindler, but after politely discussing the matter after services rendered, he agreed on an alternate form of payment," she said proudly. "Feast your eyes on these!"

She produced a trio of cardstock tickets from seemingly nowhere for something called 'The Equestria Games.'

"I owe Smooth Talker a bit of money for drinks here and there, so I'll probably give one to him, but it would be so amazing if you'd come with me using the other two!"

Suddenly the new arrivals in town made sense. "Of course, I'll go with you, Misty. That must be why so many new entertainers have started filtering into town. They're participating in these games."

My smug deduction was cut short by Misty's laughter. "Them? Oh, Celestia above, no! Those guys are just here to qualify for the games or are trying to represent their hometowns by carrying a flag or somethin' silly like that. The Games aren't being held in Las Pegasus, they're going to be in the Crystal Empire! Can you believe it!? I never thought I'd have the chance to see thousand-year-old see-through ponies, did you?"

"Actually," I began, "yeah, I have met a few. They're not all that different from us."

Misty Gaze looked impressed and launched a barrage of follow-up questions, which, I am ashamed to admit, I provided her with somewhat sparse answers. Crystal ponies were not among my favorite topics of conversation.

Finally, I interrupted her. "I'm sorry, Misty. I need to get going. Got someplace to be this morning, you understand."

"Oh, right. I didn't mean to hold you up. We'll talk later tonight, yeah?"

I spent the day making inquiries with other bars in the neighborhood. I only knew one song and was certain Scrat's regulars would get tired of it quickly if I didn't change things up a little. Until I could find the time to write another one, I decided to spread my performances as much as possible around the town.

The week leading up to our trip was mainly spent the same way, with the notable addition of setting aside an hour each night before bed for songwriting. Eventually, the day arrived when we were to board the train bound for the Crystal Empire.

"Wow, DC, would ya look at that," Misty Gaze exclaimed as we approached the boarding platform. "Even their trains are made of crystal!"

A chuckle from my right reminded me we had an extra party member along for the ride. "It sure is. I am just glad most of it is opaque. I think I'd get sick if I had to sit inside something like that for a day or two watching the world slide by beneath my hooves," said Smooth Talker.

Something about that pony still seemed disingenuous, but I agreed with him for once. "Yeah, I have never been the biggest fan of trains in general, but I will give Princess Cadence credit where it's due; her empire has only been around for a year or two, and already she's connected it to the entire Equestrian rail system. That is impressive."

My companions both nodded their agreement as we stepped into our assigned carriage. It was very spacious. Obviously intended for long voyages between the Empire and Equestria, each sleeper car was divided into four private estates. Each of these cubicles contained a pair of bunk beds, the bottom bunks each folded up into seating areas facing one another with a large picture window providing breathtaking scenery.

As we were storing our luggage—which is to say, as Smooth was storing his luggage while Misty and I both tossed a single small bag of travel essentials onto our bunks—the silence was once again disturbed by Smooth's voice.

"You know, DaCapo, I've been hearing good things about you the past couple of days. A few local bar owners have spread vicious rumors about how enchanting your voice can be. Now, it can't be said that I haven't wanted to hear such magical music for myself, but for some reason you still haven't taken up my offer."

I rolled my eyes, to the amusement of Misty Gaze, before turning toward the club owner. "Well, Smooth, that might be because your offer came with implied conditions."

A fake gasp issued from his mouth. "I'm hurt, DC. Truly. I would never take advantage of my position like that. Here, let me prove it to you. I'll set you up with a singing gig in the empire during our stay; how's that? No strings, no quid pro quo. I just want to see what everybody is raving about."

Interesting; let's see where he takes this. He can't pull that off the week of such a significant event. I know he's never been here before. There is no chance of finding an available venue on such short notice.

"All right, Smooth Talker, you're on. I'll even reward your tenacity if you can pull it off. If you can book me a paid performance while we are in town, I'll grace you with my presence while we eat at one of the nicer restaurants in the city, on your bit, of course."

"Of course," he parroted. "I hope you brought that glittery gown of yours because most of the fine dining in the Crystal Empire has a dress code."

I didn't. The dress in question wasn't mine, and I returned it to the store I'd rented it from several days before the trip. The clerk wasn't pleased with its condition, having spent the night absorbing cider stains on my floor, so odds were reasonably high that I wouldn't see it again. That didn't bother me, though, as I wasn't nearly as optimistic about Smooth's chances as he was, and if it came down to it, I could always rent another with the earnings from the gig.

It took two days to reach the capital city of the Crystal Empire. The song I had been working on helped to distract me from any potential vertigo that threatened to ruin my day. It was nearly finished when the massive spire-like castle rising above the central square came into view, and the train came to a hissing halt.

Once again, Misty was enthusiastic. "Did you see that, DC? There's a physical line surrounding the city where the snow stops and it gets loads warmer!"

I managed a smile for my friend. "Yeah, that would be because of the Crystal Heart. It stores so much love inside of it that it can build a shield all the way around the city."

"Oh, like the one in Canterlot," she asked, with a momentary aversion detectable in her voice.

Strange. I wonder what that's all about.

"Canterlot," I said. "I didn't know the capital had a magic shield."

It was Smooth who replied to that. "It doesn't. She's probably talking about the barrier the royal guard put up to protect the princess's wedding. It didn't work very well though, since the changelings still managed to invade."

Of course, I had heard about the attack on the royal wedding, but this was the first time anypony had mentioned a citywide shield spell. It was comforting to know that Misty Gaze was better informed about world events than I sometimes gave her credit for. It wasn't always easy to take her eternally cheerful personality seriously.

Smooth excused himself once we disembarked the train, claiming to want to check into our hotel before seeing a pony about a venue. His eagerness to network with the local businesses was initially impressive until I remembered all he was really interested in was the dinner afterward. I wasn't going to complain about his absence, though; it was much nicer spending time with Misty.

"That's new," I said absentmindedly as we wandered the street. Ahead of us stood a giant crystal statue of an adolescent dragon holding a second heart-shaped crystal above his head. Several ponies had gathered around it, talking amongst themselves and looking up in awe.

"New? Have you been here before, DC?"

I had barely opened my mouth to respond when a crystal mare rushed up and excitedly cut me off. "That is Great and Honorable Spike, the Brave and Glorious. He saved the entire empire from King Sombra by returning the missing Crystal Heart to Princess Cadence!"

Revisionist history? That's not the story I remember.

"That's the Crystal Heart," I heard Misty ask, completely derailed from her previous line of thought.

The crystal mare simply laughed, shaking her head as she pointed a hoof behind her, toward the palace. "Of course not, that is the Crystal Heart!"

As one, Misty and I both turned our heads, seemingly in slow motion. One of the most powerful artifacts in the world was beneath the palace spire in the middle of the square, spinning wildly and levitating above a short pedestal. Seemingly unguarded.

Far too many emotions welled inside me, and I felt myself lift a hoof as if to step toward it. It was awe-inspiring, and the power it gave off was palpable. I could almost feel the love it radiated, and I simply couldn't pry my eyes away.

"The love of an entire nation, condensed into one fragile piece of crystal," came Misty's soft yet unexpectedly reverent voice. Her statement had almost as much awe and longing as I was feeling.

"Neat, isn't it?"

Of course, the annoying mare has to ruin the moment.

"That's what protects us from the blizzards outside the city. Princess Cadence decided to put it on display during the Equestria Games."

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and nudged Misty, who looked momentarily upset at the jostle until she noticed where it came from.

I jerked my head toward the arena, prompting her to follow me quietly, leaving our would-be tour guide alone, rambling to herself about the city's history for whoever would stop and listen. The poor fools.

We arrived a bit late for the opening ceremonies, but thankfully all we seemed to have missed was the lighting of the torch. The crowd was murmuring about the spectacle, but neither of us gave it much thought. Who cares if a local celebrity had a bit of stage fright? The torch was burning brightly, and the games were about to begin. No harm. No foul.

The games were entertaining, and it was definitely a bit intimidating seeing four alicorns in the flesh, even if they were on the far side of the arena. The same celebrity who lit the torch, none other than the dragon represented by the statue outside, performed the most offensive rendition of the Wonderbolts anthem I had ever heard. Still, otherwise, the evening came to a close without a hitch.

It took a considerable amount of time to exit the stadium, pushing our way through tens of thousands of ponies doing the same thing, but eventually, we made our way to the hotel. Smooth Talker was waiting for us when we arrived and even held the door like a proper gentlecolt. The effort must have been exhausting for him.

That night, I was unable to sleep. Multiple times throughout the night, I found myself rising and wandering over to the window, looking out across the city and the palace spire rising above it all.

The Equestria Games went on for four more days. Each day's events were fun to watch, but the real show came on the final day. Ice Archery wasn't an event I was familiar with going into the week, but seeing what it could accomplish, even accidentally, gave me a whole new respect for the art.

One single arrow was accidentally fired into a cloud, nearly crushed thousands of ponies in the stadium as it turned to ice and fell. Spike, the Brave and Glorious, apparently lived up to his titles when he melted the mini-meteor with a single shot of fire breath. I was unsure if it was a legitimate emergency or merely a publicity stunt, but it definitely made an impression on the crowd.

The closing ceremonies lasted well into the night, which meant that most ponies would stay in town for at least one more night before returning home in the morning. We decided to stay in the Crystal Empire for three additional days to avoid the rush on outbound trains. None of us had much going on back home, and Smooth Talker was awfully smug about something.

Misty and I had shared a bed all week while Smooth laid claim to the second for himself. He had offered to share it with either of us and, at one point, both of us, but we politely declined.

Like every other night in that hotel, I stared out the window more often than I slept in my bed. There were many revelers in the street, even in the dead of night. I spent some time watching them, but my eyes always drifted back to the palace.

"Pretty, isn't it," came the muted voice of Smooth Talker, keeping his voice down so as not to wake Misty. He stepped beside me, and I even managed to contain my revulsion as I made room for him by the window.

"I suppose so."

His signature little chuckle sounded even creepier when he tried to keep the volume down. "Well, I think so, though I've seen better."

Ugh.

"Have you thought about which restaurant you'd like to go to," he asked with a pregnant pause before continuing, "because I got you that gig you wanted."

"Oh? It's a paying gig, right? I do believe that was the condition we set."

He smiled briefly before leaving the window and turning back toward his bed. "It is, at least for the winner. I couldn't pull enough strings on such short notice to get you your own stage, but I did manage to add you to a karaoke competition."

I snorted, unexpectedly amused by his statement. "A karaoke contest? Seriously?"

"Seriously. It is hosted by a local cafe but offers a twenty-five-bit prize for the winner. Fifteen bits to second place and ten for third. All you have to do is place in the top three and you got yourself a 'paying gig'." He turned back toward me, bowing like he'd just performed a miracle before flopping down on the bed. "You may now praise me."

To be fair, I was impressed he managed that much. Twenty-five bits wasn't a fortune, but it was more than I made on any given evening at the neighborhood bars, so I supposed that counted... if I won.

"I'll save the praise for after I win that thing. It's not what I was anticipating, but it'll do."

"Oh," he said in what I am sure he thought was a playful tone, "be still my beating heart. The diva acknowledges my contribution."

"Oh, be quiet, Smooth. Go to bed and leave me alone. I want to wind down without having to listen to your slippery voice."

He chuckled again. "You wound me, you know that? Good night, Miss DaCapo Aria, diva of the Las Pegasus slums."

The room went quiet. I spent another hour staring out the window before returning to bed.

As expected, the streets and train station were in utter chaos the next day. Ponies rushed to get home, only to be bottlenecked at the ticket booth. I decided to stay in the hotel room, finishing my new song, until things calmed down.

That took the entire three days we had planned. On the final day of our extension, I decided to stretch my legs, so I walked to the neighborhood where the contest was set to take place.

The karaoke contest Smooth had mentioned was located in the outdoor seating area of a suburban cafe. It was a quaint little place close to the edge of town and well within visual range of the Crystal Heart's invisible magical barrier. A pile of snow seemed to lean against empty air, just a few dozen paces away.

Throughout the day, I watched with little else to do as ponies worked to erect a small stage. They went all out for such a small venue, installing lighting on scaffolding, notable speakers on either side of the stage, and a sizeable open-walled tent slung over the seating area to keep the audience in the shade.

By early afternoon, the crews were done setting everything up, and remarkably ponies began to filter in and find their seats an hour or more before the contest was scheduled to commence.

Smooth was nowhere to be found, but that didn't bother me much. Misty found me shortly before things got underway and followed me into the cafe, searching for whoever was organizing the event.

After a few minutes of wandering aimlessly backstage, somepony was nice enough to direct me to the waiting room, where several other ponies were rehearsing or looking over sheet music.

The first several performances of the evening turned out to be pretty amateur, almost yelling into the microphone like school fillies. One or two provided genuine entertainment, which restored my faith in being among them.

"Nervous," Misty asked when I was told I'd be up next.

I shook my head and gave her a smile. "Not a bit. I don't know if I want to bring my A-game, though. Winning means I'll have to go on a date with Smooth Talker," I joked to lighten the mood.

"Oh, he's really not so bad, darlin," she huffed. "he talks a big game, but he's surprisingly lovely when nopony's lookin."

"Uh huh... that would be a surprise. Maybe I'll still aim for fourth."

"Up to you, but it'd be a shame to deny these ponies your very best."

A knock on the door announced it was my turn to take the stage, so I hugged Misty Gaze and followed the barista-turned-bouncer to the stage.

"Good evening, everypony. My name is DaCapo Aria. I'm from Las Pegasus and was convinced to join this competition by a friend of mine. I wrote the song myself, so I hope you all enjoy it."

The song I wrote was a bit more foalish than Wendigo Snow, but I figured it wouldn't be bad to have a little light-hearted piece in my repertoire. Not every song has to be sad, especially around ponies.

This is it. It's not my debut, but it does happen to be the largest crowd I've sung for. Everypony here has explicitly come to be entertained, so expectations are higher than I am used to. I can do this. Let's show them who I am.

♫ Zoom, zoom!
♫ Zoom, zoom!
♫ My coltfriend is soaring by
♫ He's a pegasus!

♫ He glitters brightly as he dips and dives
♫ The wind is blowing as he races on by
♫ He leaves a vapor trail of
♫ Two hearts intertwined

♫ I love him; he loves me
♫ But unfor-tu-nately…
♫ He's more in love with his routine
♫ Than he is with me

I passed my gaze across the crowd of ponies listening to my performance. It was rewarding to see so many swaying in time with my voice. I made eye contact with as many as possible, building my confidence further.

♫ All alone on the ground today
♫ Looking skyward amongst the fluffy bouquet
♫ Of clouds carved just for me
♫ To remind me he's coming my way

As I sang, I started moving across the stage to include more of the audience in my interactions. Just as I decided that I actually wanted to win this competition, I saw her, which almost caused me to stumble over my words; a light green crystal mare with a blue mane, blue eyes, and a double horseshoe cutiemark.

♫ I love him; he loves me
♫ I watch as everypony says:
♫ I'd give my hind leg to
♫ Date a Wonderbolt

Sitting next to her was an elderly blue crystal stallion with white hair and the former imperial family's crest as his cutiemark.

♫ I love him
♫ He loves me
♫ Which makes it all okay

My song ended while locking eyes with the young mare. She was smiling, laughing, and happier than I had seen her in years. The crowd stomped their hooves, applauding my performance, but I barely took notice of that.

"Double Time..." I began to say, just as the world around me exploded and went dark.

A burst of theatrical smoke announced the arrival of two strange beings on stage next to me.

"Surprise! Oh, I do love a good party," said Discord.

"Too bad this is where this one ends," the second figure said in a menacing growl. He stepped forward and removed the hood of his oversized cloak, revealing a monkey-like torso above an equine body.

A ball of orange magic coalesced above his head, sending arcing beams of energy into the crowd, slamming into each and every pony in attendance.

One of those beams enveloped me as well, and I felt fear like I'd never known before. Every scrap of my magical reserve was siphoned away from me as though the beast were draining my soul.

All my emotions seemed to be pulled out in a green mass of emerald energy, stripping away the identity I had spent more than a year cultivating. Green flames briefly washed over me and were pulled into that arc of escaping magic.

Within seconds, I was exposed; my glossy black chitin shone brightly in the stage lighting. I crumpled to the floor on stage as my legs gave out and looked down at myself. I could see the audience reflected in my carapace, but I somehow found the image of the only two who mattered.

Warden and Double Time were still writhing within the villain's magical aura. Watching their inner strength fade away, I saw them both look up at me. I wasn't sure if they were in shock over what was happening or pleading with me to do something about it. All I knew for sure was they saw me, and over the cacophony of screaming, frightened ponies, I could clearly make out two words, weakly uttered in unison...

"Carina?"

"...monster."

Author's Note

Yeah, yeah... of course, DaCapo is Carina's new disguise. This is a sequel to Crystals & Chitin, you should have seen it coming. Some of you did. Hopefully, the last few paragraphs surprised somebody though...

When I announced this story, I had no idea where it was going to end up.

I can confidently say that is no longer a problem. I have nine more chapters planned out in bullet points after this one and I know how it's going to end.

Now all I have to do is get there. My writing schedule for the past week or so has been pretty open, due to an unfortunate car accident keeping me from making it to work unless I could borrow a family member's car.

Don't expect my future chapter release schedule to be much better than it was for Crystals & Chitin, but I will try to do as much as I can when I can.

Sometimes feast, sometimes famine.

03. | Time Signature

I had crumpled to the ground like everypony else and lay there, depleted, for several minutes before stirring. Once I could think of something other than my own exhaustion, I cast my eyes around the audience in search of the groaning forms of Warden and Double Time. Warden had draped himself over the prone form of Miss Time and seemingly kept his gaze locked on the stage, evaluating the situation like the former royal guard I knew him to be. Our eyes met briefly before he blinked wearily and returned his attention to Discord.

Thankfully, the lord of chaos and his apparent magic-eating ally hadn't stuck around very long. After they were satisfied that they'd stolen all the magic there was to steal, the pair vanished just as quickly as they had appeared. However, the panicked screams that echoed throughout the city were proof enough that they'd not gone far.

I got to my hooves before anypony else under the tarp, shamefully not through any inner strength or adrenaline-infused desire to protect the first two ponies I ever viewed as more than a meal, but due to my instinctual hunger.

I have been emotionally hungry many times and have tapped into my reserves in combat often enough to understand the unbearable emptiness that threatens to overwhelm a changeling's mind as their magic is consumed. That moment on stage, though, was like nothing I have ever endured before or since.

Every bit of magic had been drained from me in an instant. Every shred of my emotional reserve was gone, leaving me hungrier than I had ever been. It was maddening—almost literally.

The need to attack and feed on somepony was horrendous. I was genuinely starving for the first time in my life, and instinct demanded I restore at least some energy immediately.

I am ashamed to admit it, but I abandoned Double Time and her guardian amongst the throng of writhing invalids to begin an emergency hunt. I scanned my surroundings for any upright pony, though thankfully, nopony was. At that time, I would have instantly attacked Warden—or even Miss Time—had I thought either possessed any positive emotions flowing through them, and I would have hated myself for it afterward.

Unable to detect emotions other than despair, fear, or confusion, I bolted backstage and crashed through the cafe, searching for prey. Ponies were sprawled on the floor as I prowled through the impromptu changing room hallway, beyond the cafe dining room, and out the front door. I have no doubt that I looked every bit the monster Double Time thought I was. A desperate changeling is incredibly dangerous, even among the relatively benign members of my former hive.

The roads were crowded with incapacitated ponies who proved unsuitable for my needs. I had enough control over myself to refrain from forcibly draining the already-disabled citizens, but I knew that wouldn't last very long.

A weak gasp would occasionally remind me of my exposed carapace as I ran through the streets, but that didn't matter to me at the time. I knew where I needed to go and raced there like a changeling possessed, which of course, I was.

I ran for what felt like hours, but in truth, it was likely just a few minutes. Finally, I stepped over the still-trembling body of a royal crystal guard and stared hungrily at my salvation... my one-time mission objective... the Crystal Heart.

With a deep, greedy breath, I drew a shockingly large amount of energy from the impossibly large love crystal, still spinning peacefully above its pedestal at the base of the castle spire.

It took only one inhalation of an entire empire's pure, distilled love to restore my reserves and allow me to think clearly again. I stared in awe at the artifact as my hunger abated instantly.

I cut off the flow of energy with a snap of my jaw.

I felt strong again, but that strength came with a pang in my heart. I was standing in front of the object that started this tragic story. Everypony within miles was too feeble to stop me from just reaching out and taking it. What could have fed my hive for years could provide its energy to me for my entire lifetime, with plenty to spare. Nopony could stop me; except me. I hesitated and immediately swiveled my head around to take in the myriad details I had ignored up until that moment.

Four guards were on the ground nearby, two of which were staring daggers at me and attempting to stand. Beyond them, another dozen ponies had noticed me, with mixed reactions ranging from confusion to horror.

The continuous cacophony of fearful voices echoed throughout the city, and it suddenly dawned on me that I would likely be included among the suspects responsible... especially if I stole their most precious national icon and source of relative safety from the elements.

Shaking my head to clear away thoughts of grand larceny and memories of a former life, I ran again. Unsure of where else to go, I traveled down once-familiar roads. As soon as I could put a building between myself and the nearest pair of eyes, I called upon my newly-stolen magic and bathed myself in emerald flames. Even in a panicked flight, I shivered in delight as the comforting transformative energies molded my carapace into a much softer body. Within the span of a couple heartbeats, my disguise was complete.

I stepped into the open and made my way to the outskirts of town. I probably could have returned to the hotel, but I didn't think about it. My body seemed to know where it wanted to go, so I allowed myself to move on autopilot while I raged internally.

I thought Discord was a statue again! How in the hive did he escape, and who was the centaur!? I didn't know they could steal magic like that, or was it Discord that gave him that power for some reason?

After an hour, the screaming slowly receded, fading from a city-wide hysteria to one more localized in pockets around town. The duo seemed to work fast and likely drained most of the populace.

It didn't really matter, though, as I had arrived at my destination. I slowly halted, resting my rapidly tiring hooves, and looked around the cul-de-sac I found myself in.

A very familiar cul-de-sac.

The neighborhood had been cleaned up, and the schoolhouse no longer had desks stacked up, blocking the windows. The doors had been replaced and freshly painted to welcome students back, making it look different from my memory of the place, but there was no mistaking the building where I first met Double Time... and failed my queen.

Pushing open the new door, which, like its predecessor, bore no lock, I stepped inside. The room I had called home for several months while spying on the Sombra-controlled city and planning my heist of the Crystal Heart was much cleaner than it was the last time I saw it. The bathtub I'd installed had been removed, and the student desks were returned to their orderly columns facing the blackboard.

There were drawings, predominantly stick figures, taped to the walls all around the room depicting small families, often omitting one parent or the other. King Sombra's occupation of the city had seemingly left behind more than a few scars.

A couple years prior—or a thousand years prior, depending on how you look at it—I would have considered it absurd to pity the families impacted by that tyrant. My queen's mission would have resulted in much worse for them, after all. Removing the Crystal Heart, even if it was to ensure the survival of my hive, would have doomed the entire empire to hypothermia and frostbite, if not worse. A few casualties in his battle against the alicorns are insignificant compared to what I would have done to them.

My introspection caught me slightly off-guard when a voice broke the silence behind me. I hadn't even heard the door open.

"Homesick, are we, Carina?"

Even though I hadn't heard the old soldier approach, his presence behind me wasn't entirely unexpected. Somehow, I knew he'd find me; the schoolhouse was familiar territory. Of course, he'd come here looking for me once he knew I'd returned.

"More than you know," I replied softly.

Warden joined me in front of the drawings, taking note of their content as he sat down.

"Is that why you look like Headway right now?"

I blinked. Looking down, I noticed that the disguise I'd donned in my flight from the imperial guards wasn't that of DaCapo Aria but of Headway, the pony I pretended to be when I first came to the Crystal Empire. The pony Warden took under his wing and trained in the ways of those self-same imperial guards to protect our home. The pony that Double Time once said she'd loved.

"Sorry. I wasn't thinking clearly when I ran. I guess this is the form I associate with this city," I said. "I can return to being DaCapo, the lounge singer, if you want. Or, I can drop the disguise entirely if you'd prefer to talk to the monster."

Warden sighed. "Miss Time didn't mean that. She was shocked to see you on that stage and thought you may have been in league with those villains who attacked us. She was mistaken in that regard, yes?"

I nodded my head, unsure how else to respond.

"Good. Now, why don't you tell me why you are here? I highly doubt that you came back to the empire to terrorize an orphan or to participate in a local talent show. Miss Time told me you left Fluttershy's cottage without saying goodbye and that you'd purchased a train ticket without even looking at the destinations."

I turned toward the former imperial guard, mouth agape. "She knew it was me? How?"

Warden shook his head; a calm, if weary, smile crept onto his face. "No, she didn't know who you were, but I did, if you'll remember. She told me that 'Glade Whisper' had left Ponyville, nothing more."

"Ah, all right. That makes more sense. Yeah, I got on that train with no real intentions. I made up a new disguise en route, but it took several months before I fleshed out any significant motivation."

"I tried my hoof at several small jobs around town, but the need to feed on a pony's emotions every few days made it difficult to retain employment. More often than not, my employer was on the receiving end of each meal. More than once, I found it challenging to build a rapport when the pony I was trying to impress consistently felt drained in my presense."

"Eventually, I returned to my roots: espionage," I admitted. "I observed those who arrived in town and realized there were only a few reasons ponies were visiting the city. They either came seeking easy money, weekend entertainment or to become an entertainer themselves. So, I revised my story and decided to learn what I could about entertaining ponies."

"A few nights spent watching small-time singers in the local bars was enough to confirm what Fluttershy had tried to teach me. The adoration of others, both as friends as she intended and now this new option, as an idol, could easily sustain me. In most cases, it took only one pony to enjoy listening to their performance for the would-be entertainer to beam with gratitude. You might not be able to feel directed emotional energy the way changelings do, but I am sure you've noticed how your mood changes when others praise you. That is what changelings live for, literally. Love is incredibly potent magic, but any positivity can restore our energy at a lesser rate. We can sort of feel emotions in the air, and sample a bit of it to maintain our reserves without anypony the wiser. That said, emotions directed at us on a personal level are much stronger, more concentrated, and require almost no effort to absorb."

Warden occasionally nodded as I spoke and waited for me to pause before interjecting. "I see. That doesn't answer my question, however. Why did you return?"

"Oh," I said. "I didn't expect to ever come back here, actually. Not so long ago, I settled on singing as my method of entertaining ponies. In doing so, I made the aquaintence of a club owner and a... erm, well my neighbor. She got her hooves on Equestria Games tickets and invited me along. Naturally, I accepted before learning of their location and couldn't easily back out of it once I'd said yes. The club owner came along too. He's the one who got me into the karaoke contest this afternoon."

Warden followed my story with the patience of a saintly grandfather, allowing me to speak without interruption before asking leading questions.

"For the time being, I will take your report as fact and accept your word when you say you didn't return to abuse Miss Time. Your story also fills in a few gaps regarding your abrupt departure from Ponyville," he replied.

"It seems that leaving Fluttershy's cottage so suddenly wasn't as great an inconvenience to her as I had initially assumed. From the sounds of it, she was doing you a favor rather than the other way around. That is what Zecora meant when she told us that Miss Fluttershy was helping you; feeding the animals built their trust and dependence on you, eventually forming a bond of appreciation that you could use to sustain yourself. The potential of such a bond formed the basis of your new life as a vocalist in Las Pegasus. Have I got that right? It seems that the one who feeds the animals would simultaneously be fed in kind, assuming they were physiologically capable of accepting it. Likewise, entertaining ponies would also form a symbiotic relationship where their gratitude could sustain you without causing harm or distress."

I had almost forgotten how sharp Warden was.

"Well put," I said. "When I decided on becoming DaCapo Aria, I never intended to retake my natural form. My hive is gone, and a hostile queen has taken over. I have no mission or family to protect." At that point, I lost my train of thought and rambled. "I failed them, Warden. I let every single changeling in my hive, thousands of souls, perish because of my incompetence. I allowed my attachment to you and Double Time to influence my mission. Had I acquired the Crystal Heart with the urgency that I should have, they'd have survived."

"They may have," came a weak but disgusted voice from the main entrance, "but nopony here in the empire would have. Also, get out of that body," she denounced with contempt. "I want to remember Headway as my friend, not my captor."

I spun on my hooves to face her. Double Time's demeanor was somewhere between angry and afraid; meanwhile, her body trembled with the effort of standing, even an hour or more after the attack.

"Miss Time," I began as I again called upon the magic to restructure my body. With a quick flash of brilliant green flames, I took the form of DaCapo Aria. I figured she wouldn't want to be confronted with black chitin and pupilless eyes. "I don't know what to say to you except 'I'm sorry.' I won't make excuses for what I did to you. I wanted to leave you here with Warden once I completed my mission. I didn't want to harm your father, but he was about to hurt you. Brainwashed or not, his weapon had no familial loyalty. My choice was to let him shove that spear through your chest or break my cover to defend you. I knew that in either case, I would no longer be able to remain in the empire. That fight shattered my love crystals, making it impossible to survive without either a willing pony to draw love from—which you would obviously no longer be—or a cocooned pony to feed on as I returned home in defeat."

"Love crystals? You mean the purity crystals you were carrying," she asked, reaching into a saddlebag on her flank. "I guess I should have known your promise to become my Crystaller was just as false as your face."

She pulled out a familiar wooden box and tossed it across the ground at an angle, which slid along the freshly-polished floor and stopped at my hooves. The latch on the lid was damaged, and there were noticeable attempts made to repair the splintered wood in places, but most surprising was a single glimmering crystal, still intact, on the softly padded interior.

"There, now you won't starve on your way home," Double Time said as she turned and walked out the front door. Her voice was unsteady and filled with sarcasm, but I could feel the immense waves of sadness coming off of her.

I chased after her, brushing the door aside as I caught up to her. "Miss Time," I began again, "please wait a second. Thank you for returning the crystal to me. There was a time I viewed it as one of the all-important items vital to my mission, but now it symbolizes so much more. It is the last physical reminder of my mother, Queen Serosa, and that alone makes it precious to me... but it is also clear that you took care of it in my place. It has a small charge within it, which I know was not there when I last saw it, meaning you must have poured your heart out into it. Your feelings are inside that gem, and I will not feed on them. It is no longer a food source for me; it is your purity crystal. One day, I promise, I will regain your trust and use it to introduce you to the empire."

She stifled a sob, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. A half-smile graced her face for a few heartbeats before returning to a resting frown. She wiped her eyes with the back of her fetlock and took a deep breath before replying.

"Pretty words from a stranger's voice. I don't believe you. I've been convinced you're not quite evil, but I'm not sure you could ever manage to pull that off. The whole world thinks you are nothing more than a monster, and even after hearing your flowery words, I still can't say I disagree. You scare me, Carina. If it weren't for Warden, Zecora, and Fluttershy, I wouldn't have the courage to speak to you. They think you might be sincere. They have asked me to find it in myself to forgive you, but I can't. I can't forgive the monster that took my father away from me. I want to. I want the pony who protected me all those months to still be there, to be my friend. I want to see Headway again, but all I see is a liar. You say you aren't like the bugs that attacked Canterlot, but personal experience tells me otherwise. How can I ever trust somepony who is a liar by their very nature? You said you gave up being Carina to become this singer, DaCapo, but isn't she just another lie? I'm sorry, but I just don't see it happening..."

Before I could even form a response, she found a burst of energy within herself and galloped away at an impressive speed. She slowed only once to turn her head back toward me. Her words were quiet and muffled by distance, but I thought I heard her say: "I hope you prove me wrong."

I didn't follow her.

Warden, who had been silently listening to our conversation from the doorway, came up beside me and sighed. "She's still hurting inside, and today was quite the shock for her. Not only was she not prepared to see you so suddenly, but the real monsters made everything worse. Give her time, and make good on your promises. If you really want to become a pony full-time, don't let anything stop you. Although, I imagine finding a middle ground between who you are and who you think you have to become would be a much better solution. I am sure your queen would have agreed."

A pony walked away from me for the second time in a short timeframe without a response ever forming on my lips. I watched as the old guard calmly followed after Double Time at a much more deliberate pace. It was several heartbeats after he turned a corner and left my sight before I reentered the schoolhouse to collect the abandoned love crystal.

As I made my way back to the hotel, I thought about what they had both said to me. Warden was just as even-tempered as ever, but he couldn't understand what it meant to be alone to a changeling. His advice was valuable, but embracing my former life didn't seem wise. Even now, hours after the attack, the few ponies walking around spoke animatedly about the changeling seen in town. The stories got wilder and wilder with each gossip circle that spread it. By the time I arrived in our hotel lobby, I was apparently responsible for the attack and planning a complete invasion of the empire with millions of other changelings.

If only that were remotely possible.

The worst part of the rumor mill was the sheer number of ponies I supposedly directly attacked in the streets. I was ravenous, sure, and no doubt scary to behold in that state, but I know I resisted draining anypony. Several of the claims were from districts many blocks away from my flight path.

And Double Time called me the liar.

Double Time. She, on the other hoof, was in a similar enough position to understand. The loss of one's parents doesn't quite measure up to the loss of an entire hive of brothers and sisters, but it is at least similar enough to empathize with. Her words stung me, not because they were harsh, but because they were true.

I am a liar. I was trained from the moment I hatched to do so professionally. I am good at it, and it is second nature. I can maintain a disguise under scrutiny like no other infiltrator in the generations before me ever could.

As I unlocked the door to my room, I switched gears and started thinking about where to go from there. I had been exposed in public, but very few of the ponies who saw me could identify me as DaCapo, and even fewer of those knew DC lived in Las Pegasus. My cover may not be blown yet. Misty was backstage, so she could have put two and two together, but I didn't see her on my way out of the cafe. With any luck, she was groaning on the dressing room floor and didn't actually see me run. Smooth Talker wasn't even at the venue, to my knowledge.

I locked the door behind me and vocalized my dissatisfaction with a bit of colorful wording as I threw myself on the bed. I rolled my head to the side and looked at myself in the mirror on the far wall.

I was happy with DC's design. She was, by all accounts, attractive for a pony. Her golden fur and two-tone blue mane were deliberately chosen to stand out and grab attention. I spent weeks listening to and evaluating prevalent singers around Las Pegasus to fine-tune her vocal cords to near perfection. Among all the diverse ponies in my repertoire who never actually existed, she was the one I was most proud of fabricating. I wasn't ready to retire her just yet.

However, even her painstakingly sculpted body didn't feel respectable at that moment, so I wiped away my disguise with a quick flash of green fire while maintaining eye contact with my reflection.

As a changeling of Queen Serosa's hive, I didn't visually stand out much. My appearance was nearly identical to that of my brothers and sisters. I had slight variations in hole pattern and a subtle difference in the shape of my carina—the chitin around the base of the wing—from which I was named. I never cared much about it, but it was distinctly characteristic of my hive. As the last of Queen Serosa's children, I was, ironically, now unique.

Warden's words echoed in my head; perhaps it would be better to find a way to honor my queen somehow. I'd have to think about how to do that, though.

I stared at myself in the mirror for a few more moments before setting that thought aside for the time being. I jumped off the bed and wandered over to the window. The panic in town had subsided substantially, and one could almost call it a quiet evening.

I bent down to retrieve the small box that had once held half a dozen crystals filled with emergency reserves of love energy, rations entrusted to me by my queen, but now contained only one surviving battery.

I wonder if it was Warden or Double Time who returned to the schoolhouse to collect this? The partial charge in it must be the result of Miss Time mourning the passing of her father and the apparent loss of Headway. I came very close to permanently establishing a source of love between her and my crystal persona. She refused to believe he and I were one and the same, so it makes sense that she'd be the one to repair it.

We'd been through a lot together, even if she came to hate me. Double Time convinced me that ponies had value beyond the next meal, even if she never knew it. I chose her when it came down to her life versus a much easier escape from Chrysalis' scouts. I broke character to protect her from her own brainwashed father, even if it meant killing him and losing her trust. Better for her to live in grief than die in confusion. She was significant to me, more so now than before I lost my family.

On a whim, and because I had more stored love energy than I'd had in months, I condensed some of it and launched it into the sky above the hotel. I can't remember if I hoped someling would actually respond to the invisible emergency beacon or if I had simply done it to acknowledge and lament my now twice-failed mission, but it relieved some of my tension.

I closed the shutters covering the window and sat down at a little desk beside the bed. A song idea had popped into my head, so I took out some parchment and a quill and began to write down lyrics before I forgot them. I probably should have changed back into DaCapo for the process, but I decided to remain in my natural form for the rest of the night. I could always make changes to the melody to suit her voice later.

♫ Oh, why do I love you so?
♫ My tears simply overflow
♫ I am at a loss
♫ Without a thought of
♫ Where to go from here.

♫ Had I seen your eyes that day
♫ I'd have seen we were the same
♫ Instead, I stand,
♫ Alone, right here
♫ Without you by my side.

♫ Oh, why do I love you so?
♫ I can't seem to let you go.
♫ Although you're gone,
♫ You still push me on.
♫ I'll never break free.

♫ I've spent such a long, long time,
♫ Running from a heinous crime.
♫ One mission to do
♫ But I hurt you; and
♫ Could no longer see it through.

♫ I can't find the remedy
♫ To heal fractured memories.
♫ Can't reach you now,
♫ What should I do?
♫ You've gone so far away.

♫ Oh, why do I love you so?
♫ I can't seem to let you go.
♫ The answer's clear
♫ I'll wait right here
♫ Because I can not move on

My songwriting was interrupted by a gentle knock on my door. Quick as a flash, and quite literally, I resumed my disguise as DaCapo Aria before acknowledging my guest.

"Yes," I called out, "who is it?"

"It's me, darlin, Misty Gaze. Are ya all right in there? I saw the light flickering under yer door and thought I heard singing."

Singing? She could see the light... oh no, could she have just noticed the transformation flash as well!?

Panicking inside but forcing myself to remain neutral in appearance, I swung open the door to admit her. She looked better than anypony else I'd seen since the attack, but her mane was tousled, and she had bags under her eyes. No makeup adorned her face for the first time since I'd known her, which probably meant she'd washed up at the cafe.

"Oh, sorry Misty. Yeah, I'm okay. I stumbled my way back to the hotel and fell asleep for a while. I felt much better once I woke up, so I decided to write for a bit. What about you? I went looking for you but couldn't find ya."

She seemed distracted because her response had very little to do with my question. "Ah. Ya musta showered, too, 'cause you're looking great. Everypony else out there still look like zombies. Eh, maybe I should go to bed early tonight as well..." She hesitated a moment, trying not to draw attention to the fact that she was attempting to look past me into my room. "So, you're alone? The singing didn't sound like you. Oh! If ya got yourself a stallion in there, I won't pry no further. Mums the word, sugar."

I chuckled at her assumption, then shook my head. "No, no. Nothing like that. These hotels use cheap soundproofing tricks between the rooms so your neighbors can sleep; maybe the door just muffled my voice a bit."

"Maybe," she said, sounding unconvinced. "Oh well, I just wanted to make sure everything was all right. Smooth said the trains wouldn't be affected by all this and that we'll be ready to go bright and early. He looked worse than either of us, though, so I wouldn't be too surprised if he slept through the first train. We might catch an afternoon one instead."

I nodded as she said that and flashed her my best reassuring smile. "It wouldn't surprise me either. But, if you don't mind, Misty, I would like to finish this song before I lose it, so I'll talk to you in the morning, okay?"

"Sure thing, sugar. Rest well, and make sure you get back some of your energy tonight. Yeah?"

She stepped back from my threshold, and I closed the door. As I sat down at the writing desk, something about her wording bothered me, but I couldn't figure out what it was.