Dreamwalker's Tale: Project Greenwood

I woke up with a sigh, both wistful and tired. I already grimaced before I could orient myself. Every bone in my body made itself known. “I’m too old for this,” I muttered and finally cracked my eyes open. The early morning sun sent her rays all over Equestria — and right into my eyes, it seemed. I blinked a couple of times to help with the adjustment, because that totally worked like that, and my current issue was alleviated before I knew it.

Luna raised her soft wing from me. Without my blanket, the crisp morning air rushed in and made me shudder, but her wing rose to shield me from the daylight. “Too old for what?” I heard her ask.

“To sleep on the ground,” I replied and made no effort to stand up. Not just yet. But I felt her shift behind me and a moment later, I was granted the beautiful sight of her pretty cyan eyes. I smiled. “Hey there.”

Luna snickered briefly and booped my nose with her own. “Hey yourself.” She glanced around. The clearing was bathed in morning light. It was a beautiful sight, no doubt, but it was not exactly what either of us wanted. She usually spent her nights in her court, advising budding artists and dealing with the pesky nobles her sister referred to her so she may give them an earful. Daytime was sleepy-time. And it showed. While there were no bags under her eyes yet, she looked a little bit drowsy.

“Are you alright?” I asked and raised a hoof to cup her cheek.

She leaned into the gesture with a content smile. “I am fine.” I played around with the idea of pulling her closer again. Giving her a kiss, morning breath or no, but before I could come to a decision, she sighed and I knew that the moment had passed. I had missed my window. “We should get up.”

“Lots to do?” I asked. I did not wait for an answer. The question was rhetorical. We both rose to our hooves and we both grimaced. She shook herself, flapped her wings a few times, twisted her neck until a satisfying pop was heard. And I did very much the same, minus the wings. And all the while, I marveled at the clearing. It was such a pretty place. And so close to the castle. How had I never come across this place?

“Dreadful, is it not?” she asked with a hint of amusement.

I looked at her and followed her gaze up to the sky. The brightly illuminated, cloudless, daylight-bathed sky. “Eyupp. Absolutely abhorrent.”

“You just say that to make me like you,” she teased.

I chuckled and admitted as much with a vigorous nod. “Of course, my princess. Truth of the matter is, while I’m very much a night owl, I could never despise the sun. Even though she is very bright. And very warm. And oh so inconvenient at times. It reminds me too much of Sunny.”

“Does my moon remind you of me, then?” she continued her little play.

I nodded once more. “Of course. And I must admit, you do have the advantage there. I’ve been told from a trustworthy source that gazing upon the sun is kinda unhealthy. But I love to gaze at the moon. It’s almost as beautiful as its mistress.”

Luna outright laughed. “Flattery will bring you far, little one.” And she laughed a tad harder once she saw me pout. She knew I disliked being called that. I knew that with the vast difference in age and experience, there was some truth to it, but it felt awkward when I was made aware of it.

“Right, so… how do we proceed?” I switched the topic.

Her amusement dimmed down, quickly replaced by the same seriousness she demonstrated whenever we encountered a significant hostile force in the dreamscape. “I will teleport back to Canterlot. My sister needs to hear about this and we will have to… change some plans. We need time to research Wildfire’s potential reappearance.”

“Get Twilight involved. She loves research. And resurfacing villains,” I added with an uneasy chuckle.

“I will. I am truly, deeply sorry, Dreamwalker. I know you wanted to reform him by befriending him, and I am sure Twilight would be proud of your attempt, but with a foe like this, we cannot risk too much.” I sighed and found comfort in her wing as she draped it over my back. “We will prepare to face him and then do so at the earliest opportunity. As much as it pains me to say this, but this is out of your hooves now.”

I was a night guard. She was technically my commanding officer. I was obliged to agree. Though her voice made it clear that even now, she avoided talking to me as my commander. Because we were reasonable adults. Right?

I sighed. “Alright. You don’t expect him to be at the ruins anymore, do you?”

“Do you?” was all she needed to ask in return. My consideration was brief. I shook my head and my shoulders sagged a little. “Fret not, Dream. You made a good case on his behalf. We will see to it that no harm shall fall upon him. Or at least as little as we can manage.”

I shuffled half a step to the side, leaned against her and closed my eyes for a while. “Thank you.” I dreaded this confrontation. I always dreaded any confrontation. There was already so much strife and conflict out there in this world. It was a beautiful place, but it was not perfect. Nothing ever would be.

“You should not dawdle any longer,” she softly chided me after what felt like a minute, maybe two. After I started to feel drowsy again. As if I could just sleep right here, right now, standing and leaning against her.

“And what am I supposed to do?” I replied with some half-hearted defiance.

“You should return to Greenwood and explain yourself, first and foremost,” she retorted. “And once you did, it would probably be best if you checked if Dawn still remains within the confines of the ruins. Just to make sure. We cannot afford going off of assumptions.”

“Fiiine,” I relented. I distanced myself from her and she even gave me a little nudge in the right direction. However, I turned around one last time before I left the clearing. “Be wary, will you? I don’t…” … want to lose you. See you hurt. Get you into trouble. A lot of thoughts vied for attention, battled for the right to be spoken aloud. But I closed my lips. I saw it in her eyes. She understood.

And she replied with a proud and confident smile. “I will.”

I sighed, turned around and walked into the Everfree Forest. I had an apology to make, and it would be a doozy.

Had I made a beeline for Greenwood, I would have arrived in the village maybe twenty minutes later. And Luna had asked me ‘not to dawdle’. Yet I still spent almost an hour walking through the thick underbrush of the forest, listening to the incessant bird noises and the rustling of leaves due to critters scurrying around and the wind blowing through the treetops.

I labeled it a stroll, to calm my nerves and sort my thoughts. After all, I needed a plan.

Once the palisade came into view in between the gnarled trees, I slowed down further. I knew that Hefty was probably out here somewhere, chopping down trees. Then again, I had not heard a single axe hit. Maybe they took a day to mourn or something like that? The idea only made my stomach queasy.

It had been a good plan. I was willing to die fighting on that hill. But now that the consequences of said plan became reality, I became fidgety. It would be easy to avoid them. I could turn tail and run towards Ponyville. Hide under Twilight's wing. But that was cruel, was it not? And Luna would certainly not approve of such cowardly behavior. Not from me of all ponies.

These ponies were my friends. Or at least colleagues and acquaintances. Employees?

I sighed heavily and gave myself a shove. “Just do it.” And I cringed for some reason. However, it served me well enough. I took those last few steps and walked through the main entrance of Greenwood. Just to be faced with an almost entirely empty village. The only inhabitant I could spot was Spike, who seemed… bored? He leaned against the well and tried to look attentive. With moderate success.

I had already breathed in but cut myself off at the last second. Yelling across town would certainly not help my case. So I briskly trotted over to him instead. He obviously noticed my approach early on and a certain tension rose as he straightened up. “Hey Dream!” he greeted.

“Hey buddy! It’s great to see you again.” I wanted it to sound casual. But in truth, I was too relieved to not show that. So I decided: To Tartarus with it. And I hugged him fiercely. “How’s it been?” I dared to ask. Quietly.

“It’s… I mean… I don’t know? Not so good?” He was a little overwhelmed with the question, but he reciprocated the hug with equal force and that already made me feel so much better about this. And not just because I could not even hope to retreat now. There was no path left to worm my way out of this. The only option was to move forward.

“Is everyone alright? Aside from, you know…” With my head pressed against his torso, I felt a rumble in his chest. Maybe a chuckle. I hoped it was a chuckle.

“As alright as they can be, I guess? Is it over now?” he asked.

“It is.” Kind of. Not really. “Could you do me a favor and round up everypony? For a meeting in the barn?” That was the full extent of my masterplan. The genius idea I had come up with that had taken me an hour of contemplation. No procrastinating involved, nu-uh. Instead of making the rounds and explaining myself over and over and over again until eventually I would just blurt out some rehashed phrases — which would be unjust to whoever I told them to — I would do it all in one fell swoop. It would be more efficient. Albeit a lot scarier. Public speaking always was.

“Alright, yeah, sure, I can do that!” he answered with more enthusiasm than I expected. It made pretty clear that he was just as glad for this charade to be over. I could only imagine how miserable it made him feel, seeing everypony so devastated, knowing what he knew without being able to share that knowledge, without being able to relieve their pain and misery.

As Spike made the rounds from house to house, I trotted over to the barn at a brisk pace. I wanted to get out of the open space quickly, just in case anypony would come around and spot me after all. Not that I was building up to some sort of ‘big reveal’, I was no stage magician like Trixie after all. But it seemed cruel to tell somepony ‘yes, I’m alive, I will explain later so I don’t have to repeat myself’.

Once I opened the heavy wooden door to our barn-shed-storage-thingy, I slipped inside, closed it behind me and sighed in relief as I leaned against the wood. “This is going to be awful,” I stated the obvious. I looked around in hopes of finding something to hide behind for the time being, until everyone was gathered here. But the storage shed was still as empty as it had been the previous days. My only real option would have been to hide in the pile of food supplies, and that did not sound sanitary. Or advisable, given I was not about to perform a Proven Pinkie Pie Party Prank, but a sincere and serious apology and explanation.

So instead, I swallowed the bitter pill, walked to the middle of the barn, sat down on my haunches facing the entrance door and tried not to freak out as I waited.

I kept myself occupied and distracted as best as I could. I studied the wooden framework of the building and tried to compare it to one of Applejack’s barns over at Sweet Apple Acres. I tried to use my knowledge of Spike to gauge what exactly he would tell ponies to get them to come here. And I grimaced slightly when I realized that I had not been very specific in my request. Surely he would not go around telling ponies ‘hey, please come to the barn, Dreamwalker has an announcement’ or anything like that, right?

The dread rising in my chest evaporated almost instantly when I heard the hinges of the door creak. “Oh for Celestia’s sake! I oiled them two days ago! Come on!”

I was so relieved that Hefty was the first to arrive. He inspected the door for a moment longer, swung it open and closed it to repeat the motion, to figure out what the issue was. Eventually, he turned his attention away from the door, albeit with a final grumble and the muttered promise of ‘taking care of that later’. The moment he saw me, he froze in place. “Are you—“

“Not a ghost,” I assured. In truth, I had no idea what he had been about to ask. I did not know him even remotely well enough to make assumptions about that. But I figured: It would probably derail his thought process a little. Maybe help grease the situation.

“Right.” He furrowed his brow and came closer.

“Please, just… sit down for now? The others will hopefully be here soon and I—“ I was relieved once more, even more than previously, when the door opened again. I would not have to ask, it seemed. Everypony was just streaming in now, and many of them showed similar reactions to Hefty's. Stunned silence. Disbelief. Furrowed brows. I saw a glint of anger or fear or pain here or there. Things I would need to address eventually. But not right now.

They were all nice enough to not bombard me with questions immediately. Nicer than I probably deserved at this point. And with Whisper and Graphite by his sides, Spike came into the barn last and closed the door. “That would be all,” he announced.

I took stock of what I was working with. Roseluck seemed surprised. But surprise was a mild reaction to a supposed resurrection. The Doctor pointed some sort of pen or wand or other blinking doodad at me and occasionally shook it or nodded or grimaced. Derpy, due to our little excursion last night, smiled. And I was deeply grateful to see her smile. Honey was a little paler than I remembered her being, and she stared. With her mouth slightly ajar. While Hefty still stared as well, albeit in expectant silence. Spike kept himself at the back of the barn. He leaned against the door, his arms crossed before his chest. He did not smile, but he gave me an encouraging nod when he noticed my gaze in his direction. Gabby sat in the back of the throng. She stared at me out of wide, wide eyes. Aurora sat right beside her, and she seemed relieved, above all else. Her days as an actress were over, she would not need to hide from observation anymore. Periwinkle reminded me a lot of her mom. It really was like staring at Trixie, who tried to figure out the trick of somepony else so that she might be able to use it in her own shows. While Periwinkle did not have her own show, she still analyzed me, clearly suspecting some sort of trickery.

That left the three I was most worried about. Pristine sat in the middle. Attentive. With a neutral expression. Her attention wrapped. A lady does not gawk, dear! This and several other rules of etiquette echoed in my head, carried by Rarity's melodic voice. It was easy to see so much of her in her daughter.

Graphite was less pleased to see me than anypony else. She probably already put the pieces together for the most part, and she was no fan of such methods. Growing up as an Apple as much as a Pie, two families with strong ties to honesty and a certain way of dealing with secrets — it was understandable that she was miffed, at least. Even so, ‘miffed’ was a reserved reaction. Something I could work with.

Whisper however, she had probably taken this the worst. She stood still near the entrance, rooted to the spot. Despite the low lighting within the barn and the distance between us, I could see her legs tremble slightly. I could see the tears rise in her eyes. And I silently begged her: Please don’t cry! Please, please, please, don’t cry.

Silence reigned in the barn. One could have heard a needle drop. But the moment I inhaled to say anything, Whisper's wings sprung wide open and with a few surprisingly powerful flaps, she propelled herself forward. I had barely enough time to brace for impact. “Oof,” I grunted as she flung herself bodily against me. She hugged me fiercely, almost as if she was trying to squeeze the life out of me. And I felt her tears on my neck. She was silent for a few seconds before she started to spout apologies and excuses, even though she did not even try to dislodge herself.

“It’s—“ I started and cut myself off. Everyone was here. They were all staring. Waiting. Nopony moved, but they all watched. I grimaced and closed my eyes. Whisper had priority right now. “It’s fine,” I replied quietly, cutting through her seemingly endless stream of apologies. Really, she was not the one meant to apologize here. I stroked her mane, rubbed my hoof down her back and held her in a tight embrace while the trembling in her body got better and worse in tide-like waves.

It was almost too much to bear.

I had hurt her. Severely. That much became crystal-clear. Everyone in attendance knew it. And they wanted answers. They needed them. Deserved them. But Whisper would not calm down, not anytime soon. So I resigned to continue anyway, with her still firmly clinging to me. It’s fine, I told myself. They don’t mind.

“Hello, everyone,” I lamely began. “Thank you for coming here on such short notice. For coming at all, given the circumstances. And thank you again, Spike. You probably have… questions.”

“Damn right we do,” Graphite growled.

I grimaced, but moved on quickly. “I owe you an apology. I owe it to every single one of you. I lied to you. Tricked you. Tricked you into believing that I was… gone. And I am deeply sorry for the pain I caused. I know that ‘being sorry’ doesn’t quite cut it. Doesn’t fix anything. I knew this would have consequences, and… I-I accepted them. Doesn’t change that I regret having to do this in the first place.”

“You’re rambling, cut to the point,” Graphite interjected again.

“Right, sorry.” I felt so incredibly uncomfortable in my own skin. I tried to squirm around, but with Whisper still clinging to me, that was made a lot harder. “You are all aware of the uncanny events that plagued our village in recent days. Tools that constantly got misplaced. Dolls that went missing. Doors that remained open, even though they were closed. I suspected sabotage from an outside source. Spike had not found any traces on his patrol flights. And we started to suspect and blame each other. Something needed to be done before it would tear us apart. Before the tension reached a boiling point. This plan to fake my death was my idea, therefore I will take all the blame for it. Lu-I mean, Princess Luna helped me with the execution. We suspected observation of our village from an outsider and tried to instill guilt and nightmares. We managed to track the perpetrator down on the dreamscape.”

“So my axe won’t go missing again?” Hefty asked.

It was such a mundane question. It allowed me a breather and I shot him a grateful smile for that. “We managed to… dissuade the responsible party from continuing their assault.” It felt weird to tiptoe around this. But I had lived long enough to know that carelessness could have grave consequences as well. Icy seemed like a decent stallion, albeit severely misguided. I failed to see anything good resulting from me using his actual name or giving any hint as to who or what he was. The same held true for his accomplices. “We also managed to figure out that the same party was responsible for our troubles with Peter and the release of Lord Tirek from his prison cell in Tartarus.”

“So the culprit has been apprehended?” asked Doctor Whooves.

I grimaced. “Not quite yet. But now that we know a lot more about who is responsible, it is only a matter of time.”

“This sounds like a larger threat?” Aurora figured.

“It might be,” I admitted with a sigh. “There will be a proper investigation. I… I can only hope you can forgive me for this, but I assure you that I did it with the best interests of every one of you and Greenwood as a whole in mind.”

“Was this really necessary though?” Graphite cut in once more. “Had there not been any other way to figure this out?”

She really was giving me a hard time. It was her right, sure. Every one of them had the right to be royally pissed right now. But a tiny voice in the back of my head hoped that maybe, just maybe, she did it on purpose. She led the charge so nopony else would. “I will admit that… I don’t know. I’m far from perfect. I’m not as magically capable as Periwinkle here. I’m not as smart as Aurora. Not as tough as you. Or as strong as Hefty. I’m just… me. But securing the safety and future of Greenwood is my responsibility. Your safety.”

“So why did you not ask, then?” she continued. “You said it yourself. Aurora is smarter than you. So ask her for advice. Periwinkle is more powerful. Ask her for spells. And so on.”

I took a deep breath. If I was honest with myself — at this point, I clung more to Whisper than she did to me. She was tangible. She was a lifesaver. And I vaguely noticed that her own trembling had stopped at some point. Maybe she only remained because it would be awkward to dislodge herself now and take a place in the crowd, under everyone's eyes. Or maybe she remained because she felt that I could use the support.

“The issue there is twofold,” I replied to Graphite. “For one, I… I hate bothering you. I know that’s not how it works, I know I’m free to ask for help at any point, but I just… I can’t. Most of the time, I just can’t. And it’s not some macho-BS about ‘not showing weakness’. I know that I’m weak. You guys have important stuff to do. Every single one of you has a use in this project. Building homes. Designing sewers. Gathering resources. Watching over everyone. And I’m just like… a bureaucrat. This wasn’t supposed to be a whiny pity-party. This isn’t about me. I could have asked for advice and help, and maybe I should have. Had there been better ways? Maybe. But this is the way I chose.” I swallowed hard. My throat felt like it was slowly tightening up. “As for the other issue — none of you are famous actors, I assume. None of you are actors, period.”

The moment I said that, Pristine lifted an eyebrow and cleared her throat quietly. While Periwinkle had even less restraint. “Excuse me?”

I grimaced again and shook my head. “Not what I meant. You are an entertainer. A performer. But how easy would it have been for you to fake being devastated by these… news? How easy would it have been for you to make your reaction believable? Not too much, not too little? I needed to involve as few of you as I could, so the plan actually had a chance to work. If the observer had noticed anything fishy, he wouldn’t have fallen for the trap.”

Silence.

Periwinkle seemed mollified for now, or at least deep in thought discussing the question with herself. Pristine relented and let the issue drop. And everypony else seemed busy digesting the new information.

It was Whisper who eventually broke the silence. “I am just really, really, really glad that you are okay!” she quietly murmured. Yet due to the all-encompassing silence, every word was heard by everyone in attendance. She realized this and in a reaction that could have been her mom, a little squeak escaped her throat before she hid her muzzle on my neck again.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” I replied.

She finally gathered the strength to pull away from me. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot. A subtle yet strong smile graced her lips. “It is fine. I understand why you did it. You wanted to help us. All of us. And that is nice.”

I had half a mind to laugh. In desperation. Or maybe because she was so unfathomably adorable. I could not tell. I instead cupped her cheeks with my hooves, angled her head downwards and kissed her forehead. “Thank you, Whisper. I just… yeah. Thank you.”

As she stepped away from me, that seemed to break the ice for the rest as well. Most of them stood up and a couple I was closer with came over to hug me.

I was forgiven.

It was such a relief. Even as Graphite came to me and almost broke my neck with the ferocity of her embrace and then glared daggers at me on short range. “If you do that again — ever again — I will hurt you. Just so we’re clear.”

I chuckled uneasily and nodded. “Understood.” It was still a marvel to me how open and free she was with me, despite her usual shyness. She would never have dared to talk to anypony else like that. She would not even talk to her own parents in such a confident way. I had every reason to feel blessed. And a little cursed, sometimes.

With that, the hardest part was done. For now. None of us wanted to dwell on the events and none of them pressed me for more details or answers. But none of us wanted to return to daily routines either. Maybe we just couldn’t. We stayed in the barn for an hour, maybe two. We mingled. Told stories. Talked. Reacquainted ourselves.

It helped me so much to calm down again.

No matter how many times this place served as the backdrop to some epic battle, spooky story or hostile invasion, a part of me always felt at home in these walls.

I left the assembly with raised spirits. Hopeful and determined was I as I stepped outside and into the intense midday sun. I bid my love a greeting and with a smile on my face and maybe even a spring in my step, I made my way over to the castle. Or what was left of it.

My stunt with the staircase really had not helped. If we continued to collapse parts of the remaining structure on purpose, there would be no structure left to speak of soon enough. Just a pile of rubble and debris. Despite the bad conscience, I remained firmly of the belief that I had done good. The plan had worked. Even if it pained me to see my home further reduced.

“Dawn?” I half-yelled as soon as I stepped through the massive main door and into the entrance hall. There was no answer of course. According to Lunas assumptions — and mine — there would be none the entire time. Everything else would be quite… interesting. And I had no plans on how to deal with it if he showed up all of a sudden.

Wildfire, the monster of legend, devourer of magic, force of devastation.

A simple ‘hi, how’s your day going?’ probably would not do.

I made my way through familiar hallways. And if I focused enough on my torn memories of previous lifetimes, I could still conjure up the distinct smell of carpet, stone, books, rain and freshly baked pie. Sans the stale air and dust I smelled now. I could still see Stardust giggling merrily as he chased after his half-sister. “Don’t run too fast or you’ll stumble and scrape your knee again,” I muttered in unison with my memory. I could hear the abundance of warmth in my own voice. Stardust looked up to me, his eyes full of awe and love — and mischief. He grinned, nodded eagerly and chased after Aurora again. Little flaps from his wings propelled him forward at impressive speeds, especially considering his age.

Wings. The Stardust I remembered from that cycle was a pegasus. ‘My’ Stardust here, he was a unicorn. It made me wonder. Years ago, my children went on this epic adventure because they could not let me go. My time to pass on had come, but they glared my advancing death straight in the eyes and refused. I distinctly remembered that one moment when Arcana and Aurora burst into my hospital room. They engaged Sunny and managed to keep her in a standstill. Because my love allowed for it. Always curious, always a puppet master. And I remembered Stardust yelling from right outside, from the hospital hallway, how he kept Twilight busy but was losing ground fast. I wondered if he would have been able to keep her at bay at all had he been a pegasus this time around.

I shook my head to free myself from the swamp of memories, only to immediately stumble into the next one.

“Long day?” her voice caressed my ear.

My throat grew a little tighter. I closed my eyes and searched for the responsible memory. “A day and a half,” I replied. “How about you?”

“I see. I am… fine,” she dodged the question.

“Be honest, my prickly princess.” I chuckled. Epiphyllum oxypetalum. Otherwise called ‘Princess of the Night’. A sort of cactus. It was not even prickly at all, but it served well as a little in-joke between us. Her night garden was beautiful. She sighed. And she sounded tired doing so. “I see,” I echoed her prior sentiment. “Well, let us retreat to our room then. Maybe take a bath, order food, maybe a massage, see what the evening holds.”

And for a brief moment, I could even feel the caress of her feathers as her wing softly stroked along my back. But that was the point where the memory ended. It did not fade out, it was just cut off. I could not remember her answer, or whatever came after. I sighed as I opened my eyes again. Now they were gone. My Luna from that cycle was nowhere to be seen, neither was there any smell of baked goods or the giggling of foals filling the air. Just a dusty, crumbled hallway again. With moth-eaten carpets.

“Dawn!” I yelled again. This time with much more force. I picked up the pace and trotted down the hallway, deeper into the ruin itself. I checked the ground floor, room by room. I knew the entire layout by heart. For all the details that changed over time and with each cycle, the layout of this castle never seemed to do so. Foyer, small kitchen, dining room for guests, large castle kitchen, storage, barracks, toilets, throne room and more. Plenty of guest rooms and bathrooms upstairs, the treasury downstairs. Which was still inaccessible due to the cave-in blocking the staircase.

So I checked upstairs. I knew Dawn settled in this one room for his work. When we first ventured into the ruins, we found his laboratory in there. Once upon a time, it had been a sort of multi-purpose chamber. Needed an additional guest room? Put a bed and some furniture in it! Needed an additional storage? Cram it full of closets, barrels and cupboards. But those times were long gone, as much as whatever wooden feature had existed in this room once upon a time. All that remained were the massive and weathered stone slab tables.

I peeked inside the room as the door stood ajar. The gap was wide enough to squeeze through without having to actually physically touch the door, because quite frankly: The wood looked deteriorated and I did not wish to be the one who finally made it crumble to dust.

“I should’ve thought this through,” I grumbled as I tried to look around in the pitch-black. I had none of my gear with me. No candles, no lanterns, no other light sources—

You are a unicorn, dumbass.

I grimaced as his voice echoed in my head. “Buck you,” I hissed back. But he was right, of course. I sighed and lit my horn.

Let there be light!

“Will you shut up already?” I listened for any defiant replies or snarky comebacks, but nothing followed. Maybe he was not in a mood to squabble right now — that was fine with me, really. I refocused my attention on the room, only to immediately gawk in surprise.

It was almost empty.

“What. The. Heck,” I muttered. I walked along an empty wall, in between empty stone tables, across an empty floor. Dawn's entire alchemical gear had simply vanished. This had been a fully stocked laboratory. It would have taken him at least—

But I cut the thought off. There was no use in it. My surprise, while genuine, was stupid. The last time I had been in this room was when we met Dawn. That had been weeks ago. Months, even. Ever since that day, we met at the upper story balcony, overlooking the castle courtyard and the village. I had asked about his research of course, about the progress of his work. On numerous occasions. And he never seemed to grow tired of talking about it. Some of that stuff I could even comprehend.

In theory, it was entirely possible that he had cleared out this room yesterday. There was no layer of dust to speak of. Which at least indicated that he did not move all his equipment right after we found him hiding in here.

And through all of this back and forth with myself, only one underlying thought seemed truly relevant to me: There was a chance that he did not lie to me. There was a certain unknown probability that he actually did research here, and that he did share his findings and progress updates with me, and that he did not pull all that stuff out of his rear.

He could do that. I knew that he had the mind and knowledge to effortlessly do that. But I wanted to trust him so badly. More than I realized, even. We were like-minded. He could understand a part of me like nopony else ever had. And I desperately wanted to keep that in a positive light, I wanted to keep him from falling from grace, from becoming the villain that he might have been in previous centuries.

There was a chance. That he had been a villain all along. That he just played me. Gaslit me. If so, I would have made for an all too easy target. What if my refusal to push him for answers, to dig deeper into his research, allowed him to proceed with his dastardly plans?

I sighed heavily. “No use in bemoaning that now,” I chided myself. I wanted to trust him. It was a decision I could make, I told myself. Have faith. I had seen glimpses of the real Dawn. Of a pony desperate for acceptance, driven by his one purpose, a goal he set out to achieve not for his own sake alone. And I wanted him to succeed. Because if he could do it… maybe I could, too?

The lab was a bust. No sense in arguing there. There was nothing left in here, no clues, no hints, no final messages ala ‘sorry, forgot to buy milk, be right back’. He sure was somewhere, but it wasn’t here. Still, I was nothing if not thorough. I exited the lab again without so much as touching that door and continued my search. My yells for his name were half-hearted at best and no answer came, just as expected. The castle ruin was empty.

So I left the castle again. After checking each and every room and not even wondering about never finding a bed or bedroll or anything that vaguely looked lived in, I just left. I walked back to town with my spirits less high than they had previously been. And I went straight home.

Once I entered our house though, I stopped. I stared at the staircase that led to the upstairs bedrooms and I briefly considered taking a nap. I sure felt like I could use one after the emotional rollercoaster that was today's morning. Plus the almost literal trip down memory lane when I scoured the ruins for my pal.

But I quickly reconsidered. There was still stuff to do, and it took me just a couple of seconds to realize what I should do next. Dawn was gone. On the loose. It was not even that relevant if he was the source of all our troubles at this point. Somepony needed to know.

I knocked at Aurora's workroom. “Come in,” her muffled voice chimed through the door.

I entered and found her at the one table we had in this entire house. And she looked tired. “Hey sunshine.”

The moment she heard me call her that, her ears perked up and she smiled. “Hey dad.”

A few steps carried me over to her and we hugged. It felt strangely invigorating, feeling her body warmth, her coat on mine, the familiar scent. Almost took me back to those seemingly ancient times when Sunny gave her to me for the first time so that I may hold her. She babbled nonsense, like all foals did. And she started to cry. Until I began to sing. It was horrible, probably. I was no singer, amateur or otherwise as I could not hold a tune. But the sound, the melody, it fascinated her. She fell quiet and listened. And soon enough, she fell asleep.

I sighed and squeezed Aurora before I pulled away again. “You look beaten. Did anything happen after I left?”

“Hm? No. No, no, everything went fine,” she replied with a sigh. “We talked a little bit more about things. Spike and I admitted that we knew already after Honey straight-up asked. I just… I think it is just the lack of sleep these days catching up with me. Those ‘incidents’ really did a number on us, more than I expected. That is weird, is it not? That something as huge as a tatzlwurm-attack can be resolved in one afternoon with nopony losing sleep over it, but let a few tools and dolls go missing and everyone is barely scraping by.”

I shot her a wry smile and nodded. “Sure, tatzlwurms are totally harmless.”

“His name is Peter,” Aurora reiterated with a thin smile.

I chuckled in response and nodded. “I will admit, that does take the edge off somewhat. Oh nooooo, here comes… Peter. It’s a bit anticlimactic. Anyway, you should probably take a nap. Whatever you’re working on can surely wait an hour or two.” I tried to peek at her desk, but only saw yet another blueprint. Maybe a house, maybe the sewers, maybe something new. I was incapable of deciphering these technical drawings.

“No, I cannot really sleep now,” she replied and sighed. “But I might go for a walk. That is actually a good idea. Maybe I can visit Graphite, distract her a little. She seemed…”

“Angry?” I offered as Aurora gestured with her hoof in an uncertain manner.

“No. Exhausted?” she countered.

I furrowed my brow and considered that. But it made sense, I concluded. She was not used to the spotlight. She did not like leading positions. Yet she had taken charge in a rather aggressive manner when I showed up to apologize. Maybe that had worn her down. Or it was just another side effect of these past days, similar to Aurora's current state. “Whatever she may be, it’s a good plan,” I agreed. “Go play outside, my little princess.”

She grimaced slightly, but giggled anyway. “Maybe I am too old to be sent outside ‘to play’.”

I grinned from ear to ear and she already braced for the inevitable. “You are ‘too old’ once you introduce me to a nice stallion — or mare, I don’t care. At that point, I might consider letting you off the hook. Until then, off you go!”

“Daaad!” she whined in an overly dramatic manner, now fully embracing the cringe. And she immediately started to squeal once I lit my horn and tickled her through. After all, I knew all her spots. And it made her flee the scene faster than I anticipated.

I still chuckled a few seconds after she had already left, then grabbed the door and closed it. “Right. Now I have her workroom for myself. My master plan worked, mwahahaha.”

Was that supposed to be your villain-laugh?

“It’s called a ‘mockery’, Void. You wouldn’t understand,” I answered with much less snark than I would have liked. Because I was a self-restrained pony, and the bigger of us. Figuratively speaking.

I quickly took stock of what I was working with. To my relief, everything I needed was already present: Inkwell, quill, paper. So I grabbed a new page, carefully put Aurora's plans to the side and started writing my letters. The first one quickly turned out to be more of a ‘note’ than an actual letter.

Hey Twi!

I hope you’re doing okay? How’s Ponyville been in my absence?

I suspect Luna kept you in the loop about Dawn. I don’t know how ‘up to date’ you are, but basically… turns out things might be worse than we initially thought and maybe he’s this ancient evil. Honestly, I don’t believe that, but as Luna said: If there is even a chance for this to be true, we cannot afford to risk it. We’re not doing anything rash, of course. At least I hope Luna doesn’t.

But I’m basically just writing to you to let you know that he’s gone. Luna already assumed as much, as did I. I will inform Aurora and Spike about things later on. If you have any brilliant ideas left for this mess — now would be a good time.

That said… I miss you, peanut. I miss home. I miss the castle and the endless library-hallways. It’s strange, really — I even miss Spike, even though he’s here. But it’s different. He’s different. Out here in the wild, he has to be this decently serious protector, defender of the village. The safety of so many lies on his shoulders. And he takes it on with vigor and responsibility. It’s great to see him tackle this task, don’t get me wrong. But I sometimes miss my dorky buddy and his silly comics.

I can’t wait to come home.

With love, Dreamwalker.

I stared at the note for what felt like several minutes. I knew it would not get any better. I knew that. Yet the urge to change things was still there. To grab a new page, write a second letter, a better one. But that was just the thing: Maybe it would be better. Maybe. But it would never be good enough. And that was the issue I constantly struggled with, whenever I took up the quill to write something. I had written so many silly love poems for my spouses over the years. Fairytales for my foals. Even the odd birthday card. But I always struggled to let it be. To accept the current result. To avoid meddling with what I already had.

The thirst for improvement, for nothing short of perfection, was unquenchable.

I gave myself a nudge, rolled the letter up after the ink dried and put it aside. I would ask Spike later to send it. This one, and the next one.

To my oasis in the desert.

This is how you start a proper letter, right? Look at me, being old-fashioned and writing letters and stuff.

How have you been, love? I haven’t seen you for months now. I think of you daily. With each dawn and each sunset. I feel your lights touch on my coat and it makes me miss your actual touch. Memories of seeing you smile can only tie me over for so long. And my heart aches to return to your side.

I’m sure ‘your little ponies’ kept you busy. Day Court was probably a blast. In the sense that you secretly would have wished you could just blast the cheeky nobles out the next window. Alright, maybe not, that’s more a Lu-thing. You want them to understand. To learn and be respectful, considerate of the needs of others. Which they still often refuse.

And I can see you slink down the hallways, from your throne room to your study. You would hold your head up high, proud and regal, of course. But on some days, you’re just tired. You sit down on your desk, and you face your second mighty adversary of the day — the mountain of paperwork that never ceases to grow.

I like to think that sometimes, you stop. You idle and play around with the quill. You look out the window and daydream a little. Just for a short while. A brief respite you allow yourself. You gaze into the blue sky, track the fluffy white clouds lazily floating high above. Maybe you open the balcony door, let some fresh air in.

I would love to inject myself into so many parts of your daily routine. Or maybe I should say: I would love to do so again. To accompany you from your throne room to your study. Maybe keep you company for a while. Maybe distract you a little if the mountain isn’t too high that day.

I miss you.

When I close my eyes, I can still sense you. Your scent in my nose. Your lips on my neck.

Greenwood is doing well so far. I think this is the first time I actually give you a proper status update, isn’t it? I’m so sorry. There’s just been… there’s been a lot going on. Maybe you heard some of it from Luna. We had to deal less with timberwolves than I would have expected, and in retrospect… I’m not sure, maybe the timberwolves would have been easier to deal with.

We are currently thirteen members. Bad number, ey? Doctor Whooves is here. You probably heard of him from Twilight. He supplies us with machinery. Made a weather control device that Derpy can strap to her back to fly around and deal with the feisty Everfree clouds. He also contributed Kaleb, some sort of robot-thingy that helps Roseluck with our field. I should probably ask her about how things are going. The crops look good and I assume our first harvest should occur sometime soon. We should totally celebrate that. Somehow.

Honey and Hefty are our carpenters. They are currently still busy with building houses, but at some point soonish, they want to start with actual furniture. I’m writing this letter on the only table this house has. I think we have, like, five tables in all of Greenwood or something like that.

Graphite has her quarry near town. Spike and Gabby ensure that everyone stays safe. Periwinkle keeps morale up with magic shows. Pristine moved here. Officially to ‘ensure that her investment is treated well’. But she’s really just chasing Whisper's tail. Whisper, right. Our local wildlife-whisperer. We have a tatzlwurm living nearby. His name is Peter. It’s a long story.

That’s just it. These are all long stories. There’s already so many of them. I would love to tell them. To you especially. We could sit down in front of the fireplace, open a bottle of wine, have some grapes to go along with it. We could laugh together. Cuddled up under a blanket.

I’m constantly trying to stave off the urge to just… go. Go back. Go home. And I’m chiding myself: Stop being so clingy. It’s not the end of the world, you’re not gone for good. It’s just… a couple of months, before everything settles and you can return to your normal life.

Greenwood needs to be there. Always. In every cycle. This, right now, it needs to be done. It needs to get done. But it’s just… it’s hard. And I’m whining. Well, you know me. And for whatever reason, you still said yes. Silly you.

I love you.

You know that, right? Well, it bears repeating anyway. I love silly old you. With every fiber of my being. I love how you could lecture me on the finer points of tea culture for hours. I love how frazzled your mane looks in the morning, before you tame it with a brush. I love that I get to see that, and barely anypony else does. I love how you always strive to achieve the best for everypony. I love that I could go on and write page after page full of all the things I love about you.

But despite the current tenor, this wasn’t really meant to be a love letter. I just can’t really help myself.

I mentioned some ‘issues’. And you’re well-aware of the Tirek-incident. And I already mentioned Peter, who was slightly grumpy when he wasn’t allowed to sleep. Somepony is stalling our progress. Sabotaging us. Keeping us at bay. I’m not even entirely sure how to label this. Luna might have told you about Dawn, or maybe she kept it to herself for now. I don’t know. She told me she would talk to you. And now that things seem to be a bit more serious, maybe she actually does. She does tend to try on her own, doesn’t she?

Dawn might be Wildfire. Apparently a name you are supposed to be familiar with. I already informed Twilight, to a certain degree. Asked her for advice. For any super-smart ideas. Heck, I’ll even take the regular-smart ones. If you have any input, please share.

I think he’s my friend. I would very much like him to be my friend. And over these past weeks and months, I think we grew closer together. I honestly, sincerely think that he sees me as his friend as well. You know how I am. I have this… this gut feeling. Things are heading to a point. A climax of sorts.

Gosh, I hate adventures.

This wasn’t intended as a farewell-letter either. And don’t worry, I have absolutely zero intention of never seeing you again. It’s just that… I can feel that something big is coming. And halfway reasonable as I am: That scares me. I don’t think you have much to worry about in Canterlot. These recent events were all focused on Greenwood. Heh, we’re finally giving Ponyville a break, I guess.

Just… stay safe, is what I was trying to say. I don’t think you have reason to worry, but stay safe. Please.

You know, writing this, I smiled more than I did the entire last day. Or week. My cheeks ache. I can’t wait to sit down with you and tell you aaall about the nonsense I did out here in the wilds.

With love, Dreamwalker.

I sighed wistfully and rolled up the second letter as well. I rambled a lot in it, and I could have gone on forever and ever. But that was not the point. I needed to write this as much as I assumed she needed to read this. To tie us both over. A couple of months — that has been the longest period we had been separated since… ever.

With my letters written, I grabbed them and left Aurora's workroom. It turned out to be good timing, as she returned from her stroll and we ran into each other at the front door. She shot me a crooked smile. “Out for a walk yourself?”

“Aye! Ye old dad got a fine bounty he needs his matey to smuggle to me voluptuous lady!” I had no idea where the sudden urge to speak pirate-ish came from, but seeing how Aurora cringed and snickered was worth it.

“I do not wish to know anything about your… your lady!” she hastily stated.

“Yer mom’s got a fiiine booty, me lad!” I teased and I immediately broke out in uproarious laughter when Aurora quickly trotted past me, her horn lit and her magic stuffed in her ears, singing ‘la la la la la, can’t hear you!’

It. Was. Glorious.

Once outside, I quickly spotted Spike and asked him to send the two letters to their respective recipients. I also asked him to come by our house later this evening for a super-secret conspirator-meeting.

I tried getting some work done after that, but nothing really stuck with me. Or I did not stick with everything in particular. I basically just walked around town, looked at things, talked to ponies, asked Roseluck about Kaleb and the field and still forgot to ask about the harvest. In the end, I did exactly what Aurora had teased me about: I took a walk.

By nightfall, most of Greenwood was either asleep in their homes or busy mingling and socializing at Periwinkles place. Except for Aurora, Spike and myself. Cooped up in our house, I asked them to stick around for a while. I did not expect this conversation to take all that long. So I summarized the entire Dawn-debacle one more time. In excruciating detail.

“Graphite was right in that regard,” I concluded my monologue. “I should have asked for help waaay sooner. But I didn’t. I should have asked for your advice, instead of just keeping you in the loop to spare you the grief. I’m telling you all of this because I… I’m not sure if you can help, this time around. If you can, I’d love to have your help. Dawn is somewhere out there. I want you to stay sharp and alert. We don’t know what will happen next, but… with how things went down on the dreamscape, there’s a high likelihood that we pushed him. The one thing I never wanted to do. I always hoped he would trust me someday, that he would eventually confide in me. Guess we’re past that point. Anyway — his lab is as gone as he is. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of stallion to give up when faced with a roadblock or setback. He’s too determined. Whatever’s coming next, it will be quick.”

I knew that I was not exactly making Spike's job any easier. And neither of them had any immediate ideas springing to mind that would solve all our issues. Mostly because right now, it was not even that clear what our remaining issues were. Aurora eventually proposed the use of magic to find Dawn, but most spells used for locating creatures required something of that creature. And we had nothing. Arcana might have been able to alter such spells to fit our purposes, and maybe she would have been able to make these adjustments within a couple of days — but I was not sure if we had days, and Arcana was busy in Canterlot. I was unsure if we could afford to leave Greenwood at such a critical time. My gut feeling told me it was all hooves on deck or we would suffer for it.

So when Spike left with the promise of keeping his eyes peeled, it was the best I could hope for, currently. I bid Aurora a good night and retreated upstairs, with unease, uncertainty and anticipation brewing in my mind.

I felt decidedly odd as I woke up again. In my daze, I failed to comprehend what caused this perception. So instead of getting up and out of bed, I lay still and stared at the ceiling as minutes trickled by. I thought about all and nothing, my drowsy thoughts meandering aimlessly. But the haze did not disperse. A more mundane impulse finally urged me to get my day started as my bladder refused to keep quiet any longer.

“Ugh… fine,” I muttered as I finally rose to my hooves. The immediate plan was simple: Grab my things, go to the river, dunk my head in. Hopefully that would wake me up and disperse whatever this odd feeling was.

So I did just that. I went and grabbed the stuff I needed for my morning routine — toothbrush, towel, soap — and went downstairs. However, I stopped in confusion the moment I opened the door as I found Spike leaning against the house's wall right next to the entrance.

“Uhm… mornin’?” I greeted in an involuntary Applejack-impression.

“Oof, that sounds rough… you okay?” he asked in reply. After he chuckled. Because looking at me was amusing, it seemed. Maybe my mane was disheveled? More than it usually was? Or maybe my coat was ruffled? Bags under my eyes?

I sighed and stopped questioning what was wrong with my appearance. What did it matter anyway? “Maybe,” I answered. “I don’t feel like I slept at all.” And then all of a sudden, the riddle was solved. I slept. While I could not remember any particular details about any dreams I might have had, there was no doubt left that I had dreamed. Because I had slept. Though without my input, without my decision. I had wanted to dreamwalk, to confer with Luna. Why had I not been able to access the dreamscape? How odd. Maybe I did something wrong? This had never happened to me before. Not in fifty years in this life, or in any other as far as I could remember.

“Dreamwalker?”

Spike's voice cut through the thickening haze. “Huh?” I looked up and he furrowed his brow in apparent concerns for my well-being. “Nah, I’m fine,” I finally answered his question. “Just a little… you know, confused, tired, something along those lines. I wanted to talk to Luna last night, but something went wrong with my dreamwalking.”

“Maybe you needed the sleep,” Spike guessed.

It was hard to tell what messed me up. This theory of his was as good as any other and if I gave it just a teensy-tiny bit of space, I would be able to come up with a dozen more of my own. It did not matter, I decided. I would simply shift my plans to next night. “Maybe. How are you? Any particular reason you seem to be waiting for me?”

He pulled a scroll with a familiar purple wax seal from behind his back and grinned as he offered it to me. “I’m not used to playing the mail-mare role. This came about an hour ago. I thought it could probably wait until you were awake.”

I grinned and took the letter in my telekinesis. “Thanks, buddy.” A brief hug later and I continued on my way towards the river while Spike assumed his usual position, more central in the village square.

Once I reached the river shore, I gave the scroll another glance. It seemed surprisingly heavy for a letter. And the parchment would certainly not survive contact with water. So I sat down on my haunches a good distance away from what I hoped would finally relieve me of my perturbed state of being and broke the seal to read her note.

Twilight's letter was brief. A note, truly. With simple instructions included. The weight of the letter was finally explained as a single firework rocket was wrapped up in it. “In case of emergency,” I reread the line of her letter for the third time. I blinked a couple of times and stared at the rocket. It took me a minute or two to understand how that thing would help. It only made sense if Twilight was somehow monitoring the Everfree Forest. Specifically the airspace above Greenwood.

I vaguely hoped that I did not throw her into panic mode with my letter and that she did not just reschedule all her plans to cling to her telescope. Whatever the case may be, there was little I could do about it right now. So I put her letter down and acknowledged with a sigh that it clearly had been written by somepony just as drowsy as I currently was. It read very business-like. And I tried not to let that get to me.

I brushed my teeth in a stupor. And once I was done with that, I cautiously stepped into the shallow water along the shore. It felt like ice, sapping all warmth from my hooves. Little needles pricking my skin. “Here goes nothing.” I plucked up my courage, took a deep breath and dunked my head in the water. As soon as the liquid ice surrounded my head, I slowly exhaled, focusing entirely on my breathing as the effect I had noticed on my hooves recurred tenfold as strong.

Whatever drowsiness remained was utterly annihilated.

Once my lungs were empty, I held my breath for a couple of seconds longer. I felt and heard the water rush past. I listened to the gurgle of the river. And once my lungs started to scream for air, I raised my head again and eased their burn with a fresh inhale.

“That’s more like it,” I commented and shook my head, inevitably smacking myself with my dripping wet mane. I chuckled briefly and sighed. I felt ten times better now. Ready to tackle the day.

So I made a new plan. Some work in the forge would probably do me good. A return to normalcy. Slipping back into familiar routines like a pair of well-worn horseshoes. I grabbed Twilight's letter and disregarded the whole impersonal touch as just Twilight reading while sleep-deprived and probably answering in much the same state. Maybe she did another all-nighter. With both Spike and me absent, there was nopony to stop her. I wondered if she even ate decently.

My letter and rocket floating behind me, I trotted over to the smithy and shoveled a bunch of coal into the furnace. Once the fire was up and running, I went inside and checked up on my supplies. I still had plenty of iron ore left, and a bunch of bars of more refined quality. The molds were ready as well. I wanted to grab the hammer and go back outside to the anvil, but something made me hesitate.

It’s crooked, I noticed. Like a painting on a wall that was nudged by accident after years and years of hanging there. The hammer hung on the wall in a specific place, in a specific manner. The head was held up by two nails in the wall. One on each side of its handle. Said handle was meant to point downwards in a straight line. Straight as an arrow. Perfectly vertical.

But it’s crooked, I reiterated for myself. The reason was easy to explain. The hammerhead had a little curve to it. It was not a perfect, rectangular block. The thing was: I hung it there perfectly. Because I always made sure that it pointed downwards. Exactly downwards.

It was a silly little detail. Nothing any sane pony would get hung up over. It was nothing, probably. And yet despite this, I found myself venturing down a surprisingly deep and dark rabbit hole as I could not stop myself from dissecting this oddity.

Icy was gone. I was pretty sure about that. But there was a chance that he did not flee after all. I merely assumed that he freaked out and left. And nopony else ever came into the smithy. They stopped by to say hello and chitchat a little, to dawdle away a few minutes as a breather in between tasks. But none of Greenwood's inhabitants ever went into the smithy. There was just no reason for it.

Then why is it crooked?, I kept asking myself.

And the longer I stood there and pondered that question, the more the odd feeling resurfaced. As if it had never truly been gone, merely suppressed. Hidden. Hiding. The longer I engaged this odd sensation, the more I prodded and poked it, the better I understood.

I felt watched.

As if somepony was staring at me from the corners. I slowly felt the hair of my coat bristle and rise as I managed to creep myself out. I even took half a step back, as if the hammer would spring to live and bash my head in any second now. But it just hung there. Crookedly. This was wrong. All of this felt wrong. And I was starting to panic.

This could be a dream.

Rare was the instance that I was grateful to hear his voice in my head. But it truly helped. I felt less alone, less by myself. And he did make a good point. What if none of this was real? I had half a mind to call out for Luna. Maybe she sent me here, maybe there had been an incident on the dreamscape? Maybe this was not even my dream. It opened up Pandora’s box again, which I had managed to close years ago: The whole struggle with reality and what was and wasn’t real and how nothing could ever be truly proven to be real.

But before I could actually make any noise, he offered another thought.

However, there’s only ever been one kind of situation when we felt like this.

My half-opened mouth immediately snapped shut. And I stared at that hammer with a changing mix of emotions. Fear of the unknown slowly morphed into dread. Dread and anger.

Changelings, I replied to his theory. My eyes scanned the room in a futile attempt to make out anything else that was not quite how it was meant to be. If this was a dream, breaking it would maybe attract Luna to my position. Help her find me, make her aware of my predicament. However, if this was real and his second theory turned out to be true, then I had an entirely different can of worms to deal with. Changelings never worked alone. There were always multiple, there was always an entire hive to deal with, a queen behind it all, a plan, a scheme, an end goal.

Shall we see how bad it is?

His offer was more enthusiastic than I would have liked it to be. He was looking forward to finding out. He wanted there to be a dozen changelings. So that I needed him again. So that I would have reason to unleash him again. To give him control and let him… play. I grimaced and inspected my smithy once more. Nothing else caught my eye. Nothing else stuck out. Just the gosh-darn crooked hammer. Maybe it was nothing. It was just a silly, crooked hammer. But for Celestia’s sake, it was crooked!

And I needed to know.

“Do it.”

I could feel it. I could feel the cold void rise up from the depths, along with him. I braced myself, dug my hooves into the ground as he added his strength and magic to my own. I shuddered due to the sudden cold that started to creep through my body. And I felt him channel his magic into my horn, amplifying this otherworldly coldness.

Like frost in winter. Rime spread from my hooves and covered more and more surface areas inside the smithy. It was a good thing then that the forge itself was an outside attachment to the building. The fire heating up in that would have made this part so much harder. But I understood what he was going for. He pumped more and more magic into my horn, the cold grew more intense by the second and the ground itself started to freeze solid.

If any changelings were hiding in here, they would have to deal with the cold as well. And maybe that would make them reconsider their life choices. Or at least give any indication to their number and location.

I watched as the rime covered the items in the room and started to move up the walls. It crawled over the barrels full of acid, it crawled over the crates full of coal and ore. It covered the tools I had put in here as a sort of storage shed. I started to see my own breath in ragged bursts of vapor as the air cooled considerably. It was almost winter-like now and it really got uncomfortable. I had no idea how changeling perception worked, exactly. If they assumed the shape of a crate and they got the perception of a crate. How does a crate see, after all — it had no eyes, right? But that was magic, so everything was possible, in theory.

And just as I was about to ask him to stop, just as I considered this to be a dream or something else entirely, several of the items started to jitter. The shovel in the corner behind me. I heard its blade clickety-clack on the ground as it trembled. One of the coal crates. And the gosh-darn crooked hammer.

Void still pumped magic into the room, decreasing the temperature further and further and it slowly got to the point where it started to actually hurt. “Void, you can stop. I think they got the message.”

No. You know how bugs are. There’s only one way they ‘get the message’.

I sighed with a trembling breath. Luckily, his defiance did not come unexpectedly. I wrangled control from him with ease and took over again. He was banished back to the void like a petulant foal, screaming and kicking about my mistakes, about how I was too soft and weak of will. No, Void. Call it whatever you like. I’m not a murderer. I was better than him. The loss of life was irreversible. And while accidents happened, while circumstances sometimes prevented someone's survival — the intent of killing was abhorrent.

And I tried to tell myself that while my disgust and hatred for these creatures remained insurmountable.

Green flames licked across the surfaces of the three items. And within the blink of an eye, they transformed back into their natural shapes. Jetblack exoskeletons. Insectoid wings. Crooked horns. Holey legs. Bug eyes. Fangs. And a forked tongue they hissed at me with.

“You’re pretty pissed for someone who’s been caught trespassing,” I chided them. But they did not answer. They merely sidestepped. And I quickly realized why. They encircled me. As best as they could with three drones.

Many, many years ago, I told Twilight about the Everfree Forests hive. I knew of its existence because I had been there. In numerous cycles. And every time, my visit was part of some sort of rescue mission, rampage or revenge trip. Twilight wanted to change that. She almost desperately wanted to help me overcome my animosity towards these creatures.

Filthy bugs!

Not helping, I chided Void. As far as I knew, she took the location I told her and just straight up marched into their hive. Because that was Twilight Sparkle, my little peanut. Confident in the power of friendship. And diplomacy. And international understanding.

When she returned, I was half-done with my preparations to follow her and burn down their entire hive had they even harmed a single hair on her head. It was fine, of course. Because she did not fail. She did not get captured. From what she told me, they had been more scared of her than she had ever been of them. The Everfree hive remained hidden because they stuck to rules. They never left the Everfree Forest. They survived on a diet of cave-grown mushrooms and wild animals. They never engaged or captured ponies. They avoided making their presence known. And according to Twilight, Queen Forsestri was a wise and clever ruler. Once the hive was discovered, she realized that there was no point in hiding anymore. They had been found once. Their presence was known. Relocating the hive would not solve this issue. And caught between the options to either attack and fight an unwinnable battle or trod down the path of diplomacy like Twilight offered, she chose the latter.

Wise indeed.

However, they were firmly set in their ways and saw little reason to deviate from it more than necessary. They had decently well-established diplomatic relations with Canterlot these days, but I knew of nothing else that ever came of this. After the initial contact was made, they were simply happy to do their own thing. They did not mind being left alone entirely, either. Maybe they even hoped Equestria would somehow just forget about them.

The issue now was: These drones in front of me, they were different.

First of all, my gosh-darn hammer had been crooked. These guys were crappy infiltrators. If that was the quality they usually displayed, it was a miracle that they managed to stay hidden for so long. Because Forsestri told Twilight that they had been here in this forest even before ponies came to this land.

Also, they looked nothing like the drones Twilight described. She told me they looked more ant-like, with antennae on their heads in addition to their horns. These three were the run-of-the-mill changeling drones. They were aggressive, they refused to answer me even though I knew perfectly well that they were at least capable of speech and they resorted to hissing and cackling instead. And they grinned at me with malicious intent.

Their presence here could mean many things. Could imply many things.

Maybe the Everfree hive was finally fed up with this whole ‘diplomacy’-thing. Maybe they bred a new caste of drones just for combat. Maybe this had nothing to do with the Everfree hive at all. Maybe another hive expanded their territory and tried to gain a foothold in this forest. Maybe the Everfree hive had been taken over by another queen. Too many options to count and account for.

All I could tell for certain was that their behavior made crystal-clear that this was indeed an attack. Originally planned as an ambush, I assumed.

“Alright,” I sighed. “And here I thought I could get old and rusty in peace. Fine, have it your way. Let’s dance!” I saw them prepare to pounce. Changelings always were a problem for Greenwood. In every single cycle, there was always some sort of changeling-related issue. I knew them. Better than I knew my own kind. I could read their body language. I saw that tiny flutter of their wings. How their joints bent just a little. They prepared to strike — and I prevented that by attacking preemptively.

While I charged forward, I focused on the magic line connected to me. I gave it a solid tug and summoned my gear to me. My night guard armor landed on my back, my helmet on my head, my sword in my telekinetic grip. I was fully geared up by the time I met the drone right in front of me head-on. Literally.

And I grinned grimly due to the vision of me transforming midair. It probably looked wicked as Tartarus.

The drone before me had not been ready. I smashed into it and gave it a solid push, putting it off-balance. I used that to push it back further until it reared up on its hindlegs and struggled to keep itself from toppling backwards. Until it was against the closed door of the smithy.

Perfect, I concluded. It was a matter of fractions of seconds. I charged my horn, grabbed the rocket and galloped forward. I hit the changeling square in the chest. One attempt was not enough though. It turned out that it was not as easy to smash a door as books made it seem. A second attempt was all I got, I knew that. If that failed, then the other two drones would be all over me. So I gave it my all and was relieved, so incredibly relieved that the door opened outwards. It probably would not have yielded to my assault otherwise.

As it were, the lock snapped and the door sprang open, both the drone in front of me and myself tumbling out of the smithy. “Changeling attack!” I yelled at the top of my lungs as soon as we came to a stop. I did not care for the currently dazed drone beneath me. I snapped my head around, quickly lit the firework rocket in the forges fire and held it stable and upright until the propelling charge made it swoosh high into the air.

“Changeling attack!” I yelled again as the rocket exploded overhead and I knocked the drone beneath me out with a well-placed hoof smack. And the very moment the other two drones from the smithy tackled me, I saw them.

Dozens and dozens of green lights, flame bursts. In all the houses. Around them. On top of them.

Here we go again!