What We Live For

by Osper

Rating: teen
Tags: Big Macintosh, Adventure, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Original Character, Spike
Length: 23094

A Big Macintosh adventure about what's truly important and motivates us in our lives.

Macintosh, accused of crimes he didn't commit, must evade capture by the Royal Guards and try to save his missing sister.

Published 2011-12-27 10:19:24 UTC
Last updated 2011-12-27 10:19:24 UTC

Chapter 2

“That’s right boy, just a little more! I think I can see it.”

Night was falling and the Apple family gathered on the porch, resting after a long day.

Little Big Macintosh, as his mama called him to distinguish Junior and Senior, stood in the middle of the barnyard, his father, Big Big Macintosh next to him. Applejack sat on the porch with their mother, Cutie Clementine, watching the boys make fools of themselves and giggling at her brothers funny faces.

Big Big Macintosh was considered a giant by many people, some say a freak but quite the handsome red coated freak, whose orange mane always swayed in the breeze. He was the dream man of practically every mare that laid eyes on him and had become something of a legend for his rugged looks. You could ask any filly in any town within 40 miles about the stallion with the yoke around his neck and get dreamy eyed swooning.

“Honey, I think Granny Smith was just pulling your leg with that old legend. And anyway, if you believe it, why are you only trying to teach Little?”

The men exchanged a knowing glance, sharing their own private secret.

“Don’t you fret none Cutie, I’ll teach Applejack too. But this here, right now, is something special between men. Right, Little Mac?”

“Eeyup.”

Macintosh startled from his sleep, his eyes snapping open in shock. It wasn’t often he dreamed and to dream of his childhood was odd to him. There was so little worth thinking about from back then.

The vague, dark shapes of old furniture filled the small tree house of his sister’s “Cutie Mark Crusaders” club. He’d been right in assuming that it would be out of use, his heart aching as he realized she was probably really hurt and confused about what was going on.

He knew staying close to his home town probably wasn’t the best idea but surely they wouldn’t think he’d go back where practically anyone could identify him. He definitely couldn’t see Apple Bloom but that wasn’t who he needed to talk to. He was friendly with everyone in town but his one close friend, Quill, also happened to have access to certain information that could help him.

He poked his head out of the ridiculously small, to him, tree house and, seeing no one around, started making his way through the dark forest, hoping he didn’t accidentally walk into the Everfree.

Quill, a local well traveled and well informed reporter who had settled down in Ponyville to work at their small town paper, was sure to help. He was even tempered and, given enough to go on, would calmly analyze any situation or entertain any thought seriously. The perfect friend to bring his story of innocence to.

The long path through the trees and around the town was full of trips that could have been prevented with a light but he didn’t dare, not that he had anything to light the path anyway.

Quill’s home, a large, hollow tree common to those that lived just outside town, finally appeared through the trees, low light spilling from the windows. He stopped short of leaving cover and scanned the area. Seeing it clear he dashed from the tree line and up to the stoop, blowing out the lantern next to the door as he pounded three times.

There was no answer so he pounded again, louder.

“Yeah, alright! I’m coming!”

The door rattled and opened, Quill’s grey head poking around the edge. His eyes widened as the light inside spilled out, revealing his visitor’s face.

“Mac? What in Celestia’s name are you-“

“Can Ah come in?”

He looked around, checking if anyone were around to see, finally letting the door swing open and slamming it behind Mac.

“Big Mac, tell me you’re not going to ask me to aid and abet a criminal. Or! Or, even better, tell me you were acquitted, they caught your evil doppelganger and everything is fine and dandy.”

Mac sat down in front of the fireplace, the orange flame casting a bloody color over his features that made Quill wish he could yell out the door for a guard. Mac was a friend, though his ability to smash his head like a grape also had some influence.

“Ah didn’t do it. Really.”

“Mac, there was a lot of evidence against you. I need a little something more-“

“There was a unicorn, the one that Ah claimed to have seen at the trial…”

He explained about the second visit with the strange unicorn, how all the missing girls were still alive, about everything that had happened at dawn and how he’d survived a several hundred foot plunge into a lake with Princess Luna.

“What Ah need from ya Quill, is to see who all has been banished going back…Ah don’t know how far, maybe ten or thirty years just to be safe. Find a white Unicorn, a name or somewhere I can track him to. Anything.”

The grey pony waited a moment, getting up to poke the fire with the log sticker, stirring the embers.

“You know, for a moment, a brief moment, I thought about killing you myself because…you’re accused of murdering the girl I’m in love with. Now you bring me this wild story but you sprinkle a dash of hope on it, that maybe if you can bring them all back, I’ll have a second chance to not totally blow it with her just because I’m a little shy.”

He poked the flames a little more, more as an excuse to think than to keep it going.

“Alright, I’ll help you, but if you’re lying to me, I’ll find some way to kill you. Really.”

“Don’t worry. Ah’d feel exactly the same way in your place.”

Quill showed him to the unnaturally large basement, an old tub that had been there when he moved in Mac’s bed for the night. He took a couple of blankets off a stack and tossed them in, spreading them around with another on top to cover with. It wasn’t comfy but it was out of the way and the basement had no outside windows for others to look in. Quill started back up the steps, stopped momentarily by Mac clearing his throat.

“Um…do you know how Apple Bloom is doing?”

Quill hadn’t seen her lately but he’d heard she had been invited into Scootaloo’s and Sweetie Belle’s homes, but that none of them had been to school lately having been dealt such a harsh blow apiece. He’d been denied an interview as well, the Canterlot guards saying at the time that they wanted first crack at any witnesses.

“She’s…her friends are with her…that’s all I know. Good night Mac.”

“’Night.”

The next day was bright and cheerful, like most every other day in Ponyville but it somehow made it seem to Quill as though it only made the fact that he was hiding something much easier to see. Ponies walked around town doing the usual things they did all the time, trying to forget the very recent unpleasantness and get back to normal.

What made this marginally more difficult was the noticeably increased royal Guard presence Quill noted as he made his way through town, narrowly avoiding walking into one as he entered the library. The newspaper didn’t have an archive of its own in this town, instead all important documents being kept in the library basement if needed.

Spike sat on his usual seat, his eyes blood shot and one incredibly black as he stared out the window at nothing. He obviously hadn’t been sleeping well if at all and the punch he’d taken might be aggravating that depending on whether he slept on his stomach or not.

“Hey, Spike, can I get into the archive? I need to check something.”

The little guy slid off his stool, his head drooping as he fished the key off a hook and led Quill into the locked back room and down the stairs. He wanted to say something even though he didn’t know the young dragon very well but what was there to say he hadn’t heard from everyone else in town?

A lone candle hung from the ceiling in a small brazier, Spike sending a small jet of flame its way to brighten the room before he turned to leave.

“If you need anything I’ll be…y’know. Around.”

Quill thanked him and stared around the room, finding a dusty, but otherwise tidy place with every box clearly marked and filed on it’s shelf by year.

Time passed as he pulled out a box of old newspapers, then the next. He knew there hadn’t been any banishments in several years so he’d started at the five year mark, which became ten then fifteen as he looked through hundreds and hundreds of pages.

The first banishment he saw, from eight years ago, was a famous criminal named Sticky Hooves who had broken into Canterlot palace and made off with some expensive art work. It was on the front page, which at least showed him where the announcements would be.

After two hours, year seventeen was the real pay dirt, headline reading,

“Tragic Magic User Banished!”

“Doctor White Heart, a graduate of the Canterlot Magical Institute and esteemed surgeon was found guilty of turning his wife to stone…”

and a nice big picture of a white unicorn on the cover, looking as crushed as one could possibly be. His horn was broken with just a jagged piece where his magical focus should have been. The photo had to have been taken just after he received the news that he was banished.

“Find something interesting?”

He whirled around, knocking over the stack of papers he’d been setting up from box seventeen, sending them spilling across the floor.

The voice had come from a light brown coated royal guard who had either snuck down the stairs like a shadow or Quill’s hearing was going. His helmet plumage was a darker shade of blue than the standard guard, an indicator of higher rank, though Quill didn’t know what rank. His armor was a little worn and his hoof guards had nicks and scratches, indicative either of someone who didn’t like to keep things in good repair or someone who wanted people to know he was a fighter.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. I just had a question I wanted to ask. Most of the townsfolk said you were good friends with Macintosh so I wondered if you had seen him?”

Quill had the feeling that scaring him was exactly what the middle aged guard had in mind and it was working. He swallowed, trying to keep his cool.

“It’s the reporter in me but I have to ask your name first? I always like a name to put to a face.”

The guard smiled, showing a lot of teeth that seemed more vicious than friendly.

“Guard Captain Iron Flank, head of special operations for Princess Celestia. Now, my question?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t seen him but if you’ll give me a way to reach you I can let you know if I do.”

Iron Flank looked him up and down, his gaze wandering to the paper spread out on the table.

“Doing some research?”

“Oh, well, I just thought that…the white unicorn that Macintosh mentioned at trial, maybe there was a chance it could be a magic user impersonating him? Besides that, only the six wielders of harmony were killed and no one else? Seems a lit-”

Iron Flank leaned in far too close for comfort, his face about to burst from trying to stay friendly when he clearly seemed ready for violence. His words had only the barest façade of friendliness to them.

“Listen, boy, Celestia made her ruling. She saw all the evidence that the guards gathered. She weighed everything in a fair and balanced manner. She has been alive for over 1,000 years and wields power over the sun and, unfortunately, formerly the moon! I don’t think goddesses make mistakes. Do you?”

He took a deep breath and let it out, turning his back on Quill as he went back upstairs.

“If you do see him, I’ll be at the Inn. Ask for Iron Flank.”

His cutie mark was the last thing Quill saw as he almost fell down with relief at being left by himself. Figures it would be a golden shield with the sun in the center.

Steadying his nerves, he gathered up the paper and put it in his saddle pack, promising to come back and clean up later as he blew out the lantern and walked back upstairs.

“Thanks Spike.”

“Wait.”

Spike hopped down, stopping him just before he left.

“I heard you talking to that guard. Do you really believe that Big Macintosh didn’t do it? Maybe it really was a unicorn?”

He seemed to be pleading, wanting to at least believe that Macintosh wasn’t a killer. That would make something normal again.

“There’s a chance Spike. A small one for now.”

The young dragons face regained a little bit of its’ usual life at these words and Quill bit his lip, thinking of the homunculi that Macintosh had told him about and thinking of telling the boy the rest, just enough to give him the same hope Quill had now.

“There’s a smaller, but existent, chance that the girls aren’t dead at all.”

Spike’s mouth dropped open, his voice trying to find words for this revelation.

“Twilight and Rarity…? And everyone…?”

The pony nodded.

“A small chance, understand? Not definite.”

“Let me help.”

The pony didn’t know how much help the dragon would be. He was young, recently traumatized and occasionally panicky but his eyes had fire and determination in them, two qualities he admired. And hands. Hands were always useful.

“Alright kid. Then here’s what I want you to do…”

Macintosh had stared for quite a while at the picture of the homely unicorn in the Ponyville Gazette, wanting to be absolutely sure. His mind barely registered that he was eating what little food Quill had found in his refrigerator, leaving none for anyone else.

“That’s him all right. When Ah saw him, his horn wasn’t broken though.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. Look, even the Cutie Mark is the same.”

White Heart’s cutie mark was visible in the photo, a scalpel surrounded by a green aura. Macintosh looked over the article again, the fourth time since seeing it, taking notes on a pad of paper.

“And he was banished to the far northern mountain reaches known as Discord’s Smile. Where is that, anyway? It doesn’t sound too inviting, any place that would make Discord smile.”

Knock Knock.

“We’re about to find out. I had Spike pull some books for me and bring them. Atlases and other things I need to look into. Hide in the basement, please?”

Mac sighed and tip-hoofed over to the basement stairs, shutting the door quietly after him.

Eyes sweeping over the room for anything tell-tale about his guest, he was satisfied with the safety level and peeked out the door to see the short dragon standing on his stoop. He opened the door.

“Hey, come on in.”

“I’ve got all the books you asked for. ‘Maps of Equestria’, ‘Basic Magical Construction’ and an evidence list from the trial. The last one was hard to get but I know some guys. I don’t really know how these are going to help us find out anything. Oh, and did you hear? Macintosh escaped from Canterlot! I hear it’s never been done before. Doesn’t that mean he really did do it?”

Quill shook his head.

“Spike if you were accused of doing something you didn’t and they were going to cut off your head for it, wouldn’t you escape?”

“Well, I’d try…yeah, that makes sense. But don’t guilty ponies run away from guillotines too?”

There was no disputing that and he didn’t even try, realizing that keeping ones head was probably a universal desire.

“But I wanted to tell you…I saw something weird when he cornered Twilight and me. I did my best to stop him by breathing fire on him which worked for about a second and he…rippled?”

“Rippled?”

“Yeah, like throwing a stone in water. And he stopped using his accent, just for a moment, when I lit him up. I didn’t think it mattered at the time since I thought I was seeing things but…well, it makes sense now. If it wasn’t Big Macintosh.”

Quill thumbed through the Atlas, the directory already telling him just what page he needed to look at.

“Thanks a lot Spike. I’ll do some reading tonight and tomorrow-“

There was another knock at the door, both turning to look at it.

“Who is it?”

The door was pushed open, banging against the wall. Iron Flank walked in, surveying the room as Quill froze up and Spike watched quizzically.

“Hey, dude, isn’t it kind of rude to barge into someone’s house?”

Iron Flank ignored the dragon’s comment, focusing instead on Quill who was trying his best not to choke on his tongue.

“Captain! Wh-what can I do for you?”

He stopped in the middle of the room, looking down at the book Quill had open in front of him.

“Discord’s Smile, huh? Awful place. Went there once to deliver a package and swore I wouldn’t go back. Quill, you said something this morning that puzzled me, and I mean really boggled my mind. I asked you if you’d seen Big Macintosh this morning, didn’t I?”

Quill took a breath, hoping no one else could hear his heart beating as it pounded in his own ears.

“Yes, you did, Captain. I said I’d tell you if I saw him.”

The Captain turned his head this way and that, eyeing the upstairs stairway, walking over to the kitchen and looking back and forth.

“Right, right. Funny thing, but no one knew he had escaped this morning. We hadn’t told the papers yet. You didn’t say ‘oh, he escaped?’ you said ‘no, I haven’t seen him’ when everyone knew he was imprisoned and going to be executed. Doesn’t that seem a bit odd to you? Or, maybe you’re psychic? Is that it? Can you see into the future?”

The quiet stretched out, second by second, Quill’s mind racing for an answer to the verbal oversight.

“I told him.”

Spike had broken the silence, folding his arms in front of him. A look of total confidence accompanied his smile.

“You can talk to my friends at the Royal Document Library, they told me. That library is in the castle, they saw the whole thing.”

He went so far as to write down some names on the pad Macintosh had left, ripping off the top page and handing it to the Captain who glared down at the boy. Quill could have sworn the notes Macintosh had been taking were there a moment ago but the top page had been blank.

“Sir, we didn’t see anything outside. No other entrances or exits. No evidence of any unusual comings or goings.”

Two other guards came in, reporting their findings.

“Check the house.”

“I know my rights, you can’t-“

The guards walked right past him, one heading upstairs, the other finding the cellar door and walking down the creaky stairs. Spike looked completely at ease, but then he didn’t know that there was a wanted criminal in the house.

One came back downstairs, shaking his head.

“Nothing sir. Except a poor sense of Feng Shui.”

“Hey!”

They waited for the other, no sound coming from the cellar as Iron Flank tapped his hoof impatiently.

There was the creak of the cellar steps, the other guard coughing as he appeared again.

“It’s really dusty down there but I didn’t see anything out of place.”

Iron Flank looked from Spike to Quill, grinding his teeth in frustration. He swung his head, his men heading outside as he followed.

“Don’t leave town. Either of you.”

The door slammed behind them, Quill collapsing into a pile on the rug. He’d been in rough situations before but that had taken the cake.

“Spike, that was a close one. Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in if he finds out you were lying?”

The dragon shrugged then stopped for a moment as he realized just what they could do to him. Recent talk of guillotines gave him a few ideas.

“Well…we’ve got more important things to do right now. Right?”

Then he remembered Macintosh and ran to the cellar, taking the lantern from the front door with him.

The light shown on the old junk that had been there previously, stacked boxes, an old dresser, the tub.

But no Macintosh.

“What are we looking for? Was he…was he there? Were you doing something illegal?!”

The rustling of leaves caught Quill’s attention, making him look up to the very far corner of the basement. A hole, unnoticeable without light shining from outside, had been dug into the ceiling, just under a stack of boxes.

“No. He’s not down here. Now, let’s look over the evidence.”

Macintosh dashed through the forest, hauling as fast and as hard as he could, barely avoiding trees that popped up in front of him. Grateful for the clue to his next stop, he regretted endangering his friends, even if he’d had no other choice.

He’d taken the few notes he’d written down but there was no need to check them. He had to head north, to the mountain range bearing the name of the chaos god, and the closest town with a train, as it would take far, far too long to walk there, was Manehattan to the south east.

It was a twenty mile run, taking about two hours with no rest, and the quickest route skirted the edges of the Everfree, not wanting to take the chance of running into anyone on the main roads.

His hooves digging into the dirt, he allowed the magic to take hold of his muscles to get some extra speed.

Make that an hour and a half.

Iron Flank slammed the door behind him, the Ponyville Inn Owner wincing at the loud noise. At least there were no other non-guard guests at the moment.

The walk he’d taken hadn’t cooled Iron Flank’s head at all. In fact, you could say his angry stomping around town and trip into Sugar Cube corner had made his mood worse. The one guilty pleasure he afforded himself was a bag of marshmallows every once in a while but somehow the one sweet shop in town had everything, absolutely everything, but marshmallows.

The reason for his stomping was that he’d had Cantrip contact the Royal Document Library as soon as he’d gotten back and the story was true. Spike had talked to them at about midday, before the paper had printed the story in the evening edition.

He threw his helmet on the bed, shedding his hoof guards and gently falling to his knees before the bed.

“Celestia, grant me the strength to aid others in your name and stand in the service of good…”

There wasn’t even a proper Celestian church in this jerkwater town for him to attend so he’d had to make do.

Truth be told, there wasn’t a proper one in Canterlot either but what use would it be when their goddess just walked around casually? Celestia did try to discourage her worshippers but it did little more than endear them to her for her humility.

He felt calmer after praying, asking for general guidance and good favor. He sat down, taking his notes off the table and looking them over.

“Sweet Apple Acres. Granny Smith had been there alone. Applebloom staying with friends. No one else had known Macintosh had escaped when he got into town. Quill had checked out but something really unusual was going on there.”

Spike’s note was on the bottom of the stack, a checkmark in the upper right hoof corner.

Poor quality paper, probably bought in bulk for random notes, far too soft. Then something caught his eye, an impression on the page, probably from something written over it. He tilted it back and forth. It probably wasn’t anything but there was little else to do. Taking a clean sheet of paper from the desk, he laid it over and gently rubbed a pencil over the top sheet, revealing the message pressed into the bottom piece.

“Discord’s Smile –

Train?

dress warm”

It was puzzling. Iron Flank remembered Quill had been looking at this very place in a book of maps, but why had he been planning on traveling there?

He paced back and forth, his brow furrowed.

Earlier he’d had the banishment announcement from years ago, for Dr. White Heart. Macintosh had claimed, to much disbelief, that an unseen white unicorn had done it, the same as the doctor.

The nearest train that went that far north was in Manehattan and a hunch told him someone, if not Macintosh himself, was going to be there.

He charged out and across the hall, throwing open the door to his subordinates room. His five chosen sat there at a table, playing a hand of blackjack. Cherry Tapper, the small, orange earth pony with the ace hidden in his hoof guards, didn’t even look up.

“Deal you in Captain?”

Earth Mover, a quite large, brown, earth pony pulled over another chair for their leader. He was of the same rare, giant size as Macintosh but far quieter.

The newest member, a blue Pegasus named Rain Bullet, kept shuffling his cards in disbelief. Luck had not been on his side and he’d already lost most of the chocolate chips they’d wound up playing with, no one really wanting to bet their bits. Even elite guards didn’t get paid very much.

“Oh, does the Captain play too?”

“Only when we play for marshmallows, kid.”

“Cards down ponies. We’re going to Manehattan on a lead. Cherry, tell the regular guards to stay here. Cantrip, how difficult would it be for you to take all of us there?”

The green unicorn thought a moment, everyone starting to don their armor and eat their winnings.

“I don’t think I can get to Manehattan in one go, sir. Maybe three or four, take about thirty minutes, sir.”

“Acceptable. Let’s go.”

The time had passed rather quickly, though Macintosh had been worried that some of the nocturnal denizens of the Everfree, whatever they were, might stop him but the run was completely uninterrupted.

The lights of Manehattan stood out in the distance, the city aglow with the bustling nightlife Ponyville lacked. The real goal, the train yard at the edge of town, was just as lit as station workers walked back and forth with flash lights in mouth.

He watched from a distance, the occasional station guard pushing a bindle carrying hobo along, finding them sleeping in the cars more often as winter approached.

Three tracks made up the entire line and three trains sat beside one another. One, the furthest away, pointed south, so that probably wasn’t the one but that left two others, either of which could be the train he needed to be on.

Sneaking through the shadows and avoiding the pools of light from humming electric lights, he climbed aboard the closest train, entering the luggage car through the back. A single old pony was sorting the boxes and suitcases, carefully arranging it so there was room to walk. The door clattered as it closed, alerting the worker.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to be here.”

His eyes widened drastically as he saw the large, unmistakable red pony, recognizing his face from the paper that evening.

“You-you’re-“

Macintosh bounded up to him, the floor creaking with each step. He clapped a hoof over his mouth, backing him up against a wooden box.

“Ah don’t want to hurt you, not a lick. I just need to get to Discord’s Smile. Can you not scream?”

The old man nodded quickly, his moustache brushing against Macintosh’ hoof.

Two train whistles blew simultaneously, signaling the arrived departure time.

“This train goes to Discord’s Smile, right?”

He took his hoof from the old pony’s mouth.

“That’s the next train over that’s headed for Land’s End. This train goes to Fort Winnie, out west.”

The whistles blew again, calling any late arrivals to their cars.

He spun, running for the door, hoping the train ponies didn’t get a wild hair to run off in a burst of speed.

The door opened before he had a chance to lay a hoof on the knob.

“And I’m telling you, no criminal is stupid enough to get on the wrong…train…”

Two guards stood face to face with Macintosh, Rain Bullet and Meteor and for a moment, the three just stared at one another.

“You vastly overestimate criminals, especially Earth pony criminals, Rain.”

A brief glow and a shotgun blast of force exploded from Meteor, the telekinetic push blowing Macintosh across the car and slamming him into the wall, upsetting a pile of luggage.

“Get the commander, now. I’ll keep the prisoner down.”

The Pegasus flew off quickly, Meteor glowing as he prepared to hit Macintosh again, keeping a safe distance.

Mac stood, his chest hurting where he’d been hit. He’d taken punches before in school but getting hit with magic was a whole other level of pain.

“Stay down, murderer, you’re not getting away from me. I’ve never seen a non-magic user take more than one of those and get up.”

Macintosh had a feeling the unicorn was right as he got to his feet. The only things in the car he could use to defend himself were suitcases and the old pony who still had not found the courage to rush the door to freedom. Taking the worker hostage left a bad taste in his mouth but he couldn’t get caught here. But what to do…?”

“Sir, Ah don’t think you have to stay for this. Could you…?”

Macintosh pointed at the door, the old pony looking between the door and the two ponies, slowly taking stiff steps towards the exit, the floor creaking under him. Meteor moved a couple of steps forward so he could get by, never taking his eyes off Macintosh. Exactly as needed.

Macintosh placed one hoof on one of the floorboards, pressing heavily into it until the board popped its nails, flying up into the unicorn’s chin, catching him totally by surprise.

In the moment his chin was forced up, Macintosh dashed the length of the car, body checking Meteor backwards and over the caboose rail where he fell on his head.

The train lurched forward, the yell of “In there!” advising him to not take the back door out.

Iron Flank saw his soldier fall into a heap, and ran faster, bounding after the moving train and leaping onto the back as it gained speed.

Macintosh was nowhere to be seen.

The other’s appeared behind him, courtesy of a teleportation spell, Iron Flank already barking orders at the shimmering cloud of subordinates.

“Rain Bullet, fly up front and make them stop both trains. Earth Mover and Cherry Tapper, you’re with me, we’re chasing Macintosh. Cantrip, you look after Meteor Storm, make sure he’s okay and join us as soon as possible. Everyone, go!”

They were off, Iron Flank and his two soldiers opening every sleeper room door in each car, surprising the dickens out of everypony who had paid for privacy. The only time an apology was issued was from the quiet Earth Mover, who slammed the door quickly and yelled through the door, his face bright red.

Rain Bullet flew out the door, racing for the front of the train. That Talented Young Flier Award wasn’t just for show as he sped along the train top, surprised to see Macintosh jump onto the roof of the train, three cars down.

“Macintosh sighted on the roof!”

From where he was he was, he didn’t know if anypony could hear him and for a moment he entertained the thought of trying to stall Macintosh long enough for the others to catch up but stopping the train was more important.

He blew by, each flap of his wings setting him further ahead.

The thundering of hooves easily catching up with him surprised him, looking back to see Ponyville’s third best athlete taking huge steps that gained body lengths on Rain.

Macintosh pulled up beside the Pegasus, who foolishly flew close and low just above the two trains.

The giant pony jumped over, tackling the Pegasus mid-air and slamming him face down into the roof of the train he needed to be on, the middle one. Rain rolled under Macintosh, struggling frantically as he imagined what would happen if Macintosh got a clear shot at him. There hadn’t been any guard casualties so far but he didn’t want to be the first.

With one hand on the blue Pegasus’ chest, he saw an opening to end it, pounding down once with his left hoof to knock him out. The aim slightly off with all the flapping, his strike inadvertently pinned a wing to the roof of the car, shattering the delicate wing bones.

Rain howled in agony, tears springing to his eyes as he finally kicked Macintosh off, trying to stand or crawl, or do anything but passing out from shock.

“Stop there, Macintosh! Rain, you alright boy?”

Macintosh turned towards the voice just in time for Earth Mover to tackle him, rolling him over the roof until he was on top, sending a hammer blow straight down. The hoof guard sliced open Mac’s face, the strike slightly off as it plunged through the train top.

With a sharp blow, Mac headbutted Earth Mover, dazing him enough to flip the pony off him and backwards to the front of the train. He was on his feet just in time to have Cherry Tapper leap forward and drive a hard hoof down on his skull, crashing Mac’s teeth together.

His arms were pulled up behind him, Earth Mover grabbing from behind as Cherry launched forward with a headbutt. A brutal kick stopped him short, Mac nailing the little pony in the throat.

The hold changed, Earth sliding his arms into a choke hold. Snarling, Mac punched backward, knocking Earth’s helmet off, looking for just the right spot. Fighting dirty didn’t appeal to Macintosh but he wasn’t getting out of here otherwise.

A hoof to the eye drove Earth to release, Mac spinning fast and bucking him over the side of the train and into the field that passed beside them.

Breathing hard, he turned to the last three, Cherry still having a hard time breathing and Rain trying with all his might to stay awake and not pass out from the pain, the top of a speeding train seeming a terrible place for it.

Iron Flank dashed at Mac, leaping high and crashing down on him with a double-hoofed blow, Macintosh catching it all on his forehooves. In a split second Iron Flank landed and with a quick spin, bucked both hooves into Macintosh’ chest, sending him sprawling along the top of the train and aggravating his earlier magical wound.

Iron Flank stood over him, a vicious smile on his face.

“Let’s see you escape from me now, farm boy.”

Mac lunged from his prone position, Iron Flank throwing up an arm to defend only to have Mac’s teeth sink deeply into it. The captain tried to back up, Mac following up to his feet. He bit harder, Iron Flank punching Macintosh repeatedly about the face until Mac lifted him bodily into the air and slammed his brown body to the train top, knocking the wind out of him.

Still gripping Iron Flanks arm he spun, flinging the captain up and throwing him, his hooves swinging, trying to gain a hoofhold on any available surface. His two injured subordinates broke his fall, the force of his landing knocking them both over the side of the train.

“Captain! Captain!”

Rain held onto the edge, Cherry holding onto his leg for dear life as the opposite train sped along just feet away from him. Falling would leave them both at the grinding, pitiless mercy of the metal train wheels.

Macintosh stood, watching, Iron Flank looking back at him, knowing he had to let him go if he wanted to save his men.

He grabbed Rain’s hoof, struggling to hold onto him with his throbbing, bleeding arm. Blood slicked his grip, running down over his hooves and making it difficult to hold on.

He could hear Macintosh approach, see him out of the corner if his eye. They were all dead when he pushed Iron Flank over the edge, turned into pulpy meat for the next head of guards to have scooped up.

One surviving was better than none, to carry on the mission.

“Sorry boys.”

He let them go, Rain’s eyes going wide as his entire life flashed through his mind, Cherry feeling his tail drag the ground.

Then they stopped, Rain opening his teary eyes to see the big red pony holding his hooves, yanking the two light soldiers back up onto the train top like sacks of apples. They lay there, neither wanting to move am inch for fear of falling again.

He was reaching his limit, his body aching, his cuts bleeding. What he wouldn’t have given for a little touch of earth magic right then.

Iron Flank stared in amazement, unsure just what to think. Macintosh looked back at him, realizing they were right back where they’d started.

The other train parted from its course, curving off to the west.

He dashed away, towards the front, Iron Flank stopping to look at his boys and then running after, his arm throbbing. He watched as Macintosh slid over the edge of the car, dropping between them. A clink sounded, Iron Flank reaching the edge and watching the cars ahead pull away, Macintosh with the lynch pin in his mouth that had been keeping the train together.

The released cars slowed, Macintosh gone from sight in minutes

“Another stain on the honor of my guards, Macintosh. Another slight against the ruling of Celestia.”

There wasn’t much to say, but he said it anyway, yelling it into the night.

“I’m going to kill you!”

Chapter 3

Despite the bright sunshine, Quill felt gloomier than normal. The previous nights “fun” activities of lying to the guards and almost getting thrown in jail colored his mood poorly but if he and his new assistant could gather what they needed today, they could turn around the entire Macintosh debacle.

That had been enough for his Editor to let him get away with missing the last few deadlines and a promise of a big story sealed the deal.

Spike stood in front of the library almost eagerly fidgeting, a large, full backpack somehow not tipping him over.

“Ready?”

“You still didn’t tell me what we were doing today. And how exactly are these-“

And he gestured a clawed thumb at the backpack filled with the tools Quill had requested last night.

“-going to help with detective work? I mean, you didn’t even ask me to get a fedora or anything.”

He was quiet, not wanting to answer until they were out of town and down the road. What he had to say was not for everypony’s ears and the still high presence of royal guards definitely would find what he was saying interesting but for all the wrong reasons.

Quill nodded Spike along the path, the two heading outside of town along a mostly un-traversed road near Gloomy Gulch.

“Well, through certain sources, and a little reading of Basic Magical Construction, I learned that the bodies of the six alleged murder victims may have been homunculi or magical slaves, workers, bodies for whatever.”

“Oh, Twilight made one of those once. A very small bronze golem.”

Quill nodded.

“But homunculi are made of flesh and bone. With a little work, you can make them look like anyone you like-“

“Like the girls!”

“Precisely. But I got to thinking, if there were certain physical traits that couldn’t be known by very many ponies, maybe they wouldn’t have been replicated.”

They stood in front of the wrought iron gate to the Ponyville cemetery, Spike’s mouth falling open a bit. He looked at Quill as nervousness crept into his voice.

“Why are we h-here? What kind of traits?”

The grey reporter cleared his throat, talking a little lower even though the place was deserted. He pulled open the creaky gate, intentionally not looking at Spike. He imagined he had the same look on his face.

“Through a little investigation, I learned that Fluttershy broke her leg a few years ago. If we can get nurse Red Heart to confirm the bone we’re looking at was never broken, we have a serious case.”

“Wait, stop.”

Spike put his hands up, stopping Quill before he could go any further.

“We’re digging up graves.”

“Yes.”

A cold wind blew through the cemetery, an eerie rustling in the trees.

“Dude…c’mon. There’s some…other way, right? Did you read the whole book? You read the whole thing right? We don’t have to cut open her maybe-body and pull out a bone, right?”

“If we can prove to Celestia that the girls aren’t dead, we’ll be able to get her to send someone to investigate and stop uselessly chasing Macintosh. If we have to desecrate a grave or two and carve up a body…”

Quill stopped a moment, his stomach rising into his mouth as he realized what he was saying. Fluttershy was the girl he’d never had the courage to tell how he really felt and it would have to be her to be the only one with a bone break wouldn’t it? It would have to be her coffin he’d dig up and her faux-body he’d cut open…

“…Yes. We have to.”

The girl’s fresh graves were grouped together, a marble memorial statue standing guard over them with each girl standing in their own dramatic pose in the totem structure. Celestia had seen fit to give them a fancy bit of final resting place, the group having saved the entirety of Equestria more than once.

A long look around revealed no one else in any part of the cemetery, Quill wishing they could have done this at night but time not permitting.

Spike dropped the back pack, dragon and pony taking shovels and digging into the freshly turned earth, not eagerly but quickly. Hopefully the official caretaker had better things to do than his job.

Time passed and dirt piled up around them, the sun passing above like Celestia’s all-seeing eye, watching them vigilantly. Neither looked up.

It was three hours before the thunk of a shovel against wood signaled they’d finally made it down through the six feet of dirt.

“Is that it?”

Spike looked down from his seat at graveside where he’d been resting.

“Yeah. Bring the crowbar down. You have hands, it’s probably easier for you to open it up.”

“M-me?”

Curse those deft digits of his.

He hopped down, the crowbar in hand. They shared a look and Spike lodged the bar between the earth and the casket, propping open the lid. He waited, closing his eyes and steeling his nerves before reaching down and flipping the lid open fully.

Quill’s gasp told Spike everything he needed to know, especially that he was right in not looking, his eyes hidden behind his claws.

“What is it? Is it bad?”

“This is weird. Look at this.”

“Do I have to?”

He peeked anyway, squinting a bit. What he saw made him immediately cover his face again.

“Why would you make me look at that!?”

The coffin was filled with a yellow sludge, a puddle of pink around where the head should have been. A pony skull stared back up at them, half submerged in the goo along with the tips of the whole skeleton.

“Spike, you do realize ponies don’t melt after death?”

His hands lowered a bit, thinking it over.

“Oh yeah. Wait, let me look.”

Hopping up to the edge of the hole, he got the book from the backpack, opening it to the marked spot on Homunculi.

“You didn’t read the whole thing, what kind of reporter are you?”

“Just tell me what it says.”

“The magic drain for keeping an animated servant is constant. Depending on the material used in construction, the servant will either go dormant or be irrevocably destroyed.”

“Planning a little Necromancy?”

Spike dropped his book down into the hole where it landed in the coffin, splashing Quill with whatever medium had been used in the body’s creation.

Two royal guards, both Pegasi, were behind him, standing imposingly over the young dragon. The cemetery caretaker stood off in the distance, watching.

“This is the kind of thing you get banished for. Out of the hole.”

Once they were in a dungeon cell the odds of getting anyone to listen to their discovery dropped dramatically.

“Spike, do you have any quills and paper?”

“No.”

“Find one and take a letter. Please. Quickly. To Celestia.”

“Alright you two, quit fooling around. It’s the dungeons for you. Necromancy is a serious-“

Spike jumping on the surprised Pegasus back and yanking a feather out ended any chance at leniency as the Pegasus bucked wildly trying to throw him off. If he hadn’t had the opportunity to perfect his rodeo riding during the Iron Pony competition he’d have been flung immediately but managed to hold out, feather in teeth, claws gripping wings.

The second Pegasus took off, trying to grab hold of the dragon. The tugging on his tail pulled him back, Quill having clambered up to the edge of the hole and grabbed it in his teeth. The Pegasus reached out and grabbed his partner, all four tumbling back into the hole and into the anonymous goo.

A guard put Quill in a choke hold, Quill throwing him into the side of the hole and trying to shake him off.

“Spike, write!”

Spike fell from the Pegasus back, the book just beneath him. Ripping the cover from atop it, the only dry part, he dipped the quill tip in the gooey mess and called for dictation.

“Dear Celestia. Harmony users bodies replaced with homunculi, girls probably still alive. Evidence in Ponyville cemetery.

-Quill and Spike, Royal Dungeon”

The guard dunked his head beneath the sludge, the end of his sentence ending in burbling as his hooves were cuffed. Whatever nastiness the bodies were made of, the taste filling his mouth really made him not want to know.

Spike, crushed between a wall and the guard holding him there even as he wrote, sent a jet of green flame over the note, watching it disappear and fly away in a gust of magical powder.

It was in Celestia’s hooves now.

Chapter 4

“Dad, I found them!”

The flames licked at Little Macintosh flank, the smoke flowing through the air. A lightning strike had lit their house ablaze in the middle of the night, a storm unaccompanied by the usual rain.

Big Macintosh took big steps across the rotting, fire weakened floor, his weight and size a detriment to finding safe places to walk.

The terrified cries of his sisters and mother called to them both from behind a fallen flaming ceiling beam that blocked the door to the nursery.

His father bucked the beam, the strike only causing another to fall into the path. He forced his way into the criss-cross and lifted the beams, the fire singing his coat and burning into his sides.

Clementine, holding her daughter’s heads down, pushed them under Big Macintosh, Little pulling them to the other side that was only barely safer. The timbers overhead cracked, Big Macintosh pushing up harder to give his son more room to drag his sisters out into the hallway.

Flaming shards of the roof sprinkled down as Little pulled Applejack, with Apple Bloom held tightly in her hooves, out to the hallway. Within moments of pulling the girls free the ceiling groaned, a death wail that signaled danger too late as the logs and planks crashed down on his father and mother, shattering the floor and sending them both careening to the basement with a sickening crunch.

Little stared a moment, horror building in his chest, his mind too broken at seeing his mother and father lying under the rubble to move. Applejack tugged at him, Apple Bloom crying uncontrollably even though she was too young to know what was going on.

Then a weak voice called to him, barely audible in the carnage of the house breaking around him.

“Run Macintosh! Get your sisters to safety, now!”

Sucking back the knot in his throat he grabbed Applebloom in his teeth, flinging Applejack onto his back and ran for the stairs. They collapsed at his approach and his last bit of hope lay in the window at the end of the hall, the moon staring back at him through the glass.

He charged, flecks of embers burning his face as he jumped, arms shielding Applebloom, Applejack holding tightly to his neck as the glass broke against his body, shards leaving trails of bloody scratches on his flank and arms.

The ground hit him hard, Macintosh legs’ buckling but planted firmly in the dirt so he wouldn’t roll over his sisters. He opened his eyes, having shut them to avoid serious injury to his eyes, and saw that they had escaped that fiery, private hell and stood in a cool night.

There was the crowd standing and gawking, not a single one foolish enough to have tried to walk into the inferno to save them. All around was chaos as the fire brigade showed up too late, the Pegasi frantically trying to haul over the rain clouds that the lack of had allowed the fire to spread in the first place.

Ponymedics swept Macintosh and his sisters away, the nurse checking their health, the fiery glow lighting the untouched orchards with orange light. The only one injured was Macintosh but there were only a large amount of scratches, the same kind he might have gotten running through thistles. He would be fine.

Even as the nurse tried to keep him from squirming, Macintosh looked back once to see the house crashing down on itself, eliminating any hope he had that his parents could escape.

The knot in his throat grew but he would not cry, he refused. He was going to be the man his father raised…he had to be strong for his sisters…

He was not going…not going to…

With a kick from the Pegasi weather team the rain finally fell, the clouds all too late gathered over Sweet Apple Acres and dousing the flames.

No one noticed the few extra rain drops near Macintosh’ eyes.

The sudden shudder of the train car stopping at the end of the track woke Macintosh, his eyes shooting open. He’d never been gladder to wake up, hating that dream he thought he’d stopped having years ago. With a stretch, he looked out the window.

Outside grey clouds covered the whole sky and a light snow fell, the town covered in white.

“Must be Lands End.”

It was going to be cold but amongst all those boxes and supplies, he couldn’t find a single thing to keep warm with, resigning himself to being a little chilly.

He quietly slid off the train, passing by some station workers yelling at the train-pulling ponies.

“You lost half the cars! At what point did you not notice this…!?”

The town wasn’t much different from Ponyville, with normal looking ponies wandering around, an open air market where wares were sold and brick and mortar businesses a little further on. The only noticeable difference was the quieter grey and brown color scheme that defined the buildings.

“Now, where to get information…?”

As he swiveled his head around, wondering if they had an Inn or bar where ponies gathered to talk, he failed to notice the middle-aged bespectacled pony that plowed into him until he had already done it, a doctor’s bag falling from his mouth and instruments spilling out.

The doctor pony shook his head, looking up at Macintosh with a scowl on his face.

“Dang it, boy, watch where you’re going! Never saw such…”

He stood, picking up his utensils here and there, grumbling about the inconsiderate youth of the day. A pair of snakes twined around a metal cudgel on his black flank, Macintosh noticing it as the older pony twisted around trying to find everything before he bent down to pick up anything.

“Oh, sorry mister, let me help ya.”

They gathered the bottles, cotton swabs and anything else lying around, the doctor noticing the cuts and scrapes on Macintosh face and body and his lack of a coat in the frigid climate.

“Ah think that’s everything.”

“Boy, don’t you have a jacket? Are you trying to get pneumonia? I’m the one that’ll have to treat you if you get sick!”

Mac shook his head, realizing just how cold it was up here now that he’d been out in it for a few minutes. The slight wind cut harder into him than any of the Ponyville blizzards he’d seen. He was already shivering subconsciously.

The doctor directed Macintosh to follow with a slight nod, taking him to a small building down one of the back alleys, a sign with a big red cross just above the door and a plaque under that read,

“We accept Barter for Services.”

Patients already waited for the doctor, a young pegasus standing next to his similarly Pegasus mother, patiently waiting for the doctor’s return. His hoof hovered over the ground, the boy wincing every few moments.

“Doctor Twin Snakes, he did it again.”

The doctor looked down at the boy, the boy staring at the giant Macintosh. He’d never seen anyone so big.

“Boy, didn’t you just get out of your cast? How many times do I have to tell you, take it slow. You have to float before you can fly.”

They went inside, the room lit by the dying embers of the fire pit in the center of the room. Twin Snakes stoked the fire a bit and had the boy sit down on a chair to take a look at the arm. He hmmed and mmm hmmed as he flexed it and poked. The mother watched, interested but not worried, as though she’d done this any number of times before. Macintosh didn’t notice her occasional glances his way.

“Doctor, is it bad this time?”

“Nah, just a green stick fracture. Big guy, hold him while I set this.”

Macintosh took hold of the boy who had already started squirming at the thought of being put back in some medical binding. Retrieving some gauze and strong sticks, Twin Snakes wrapped and taped the arm, his deft hooves moving quickly and his teeth tearing the tape and gauze.

“All done.”

The boy was up and out the door as soon as Macintosh let him go, eager to get back to whatever flight practice he had planned, despite his injury or orders otherwise. His mother called after him to stay away from the roofs but stayed behind. Strangers in town were a valuable source of entertainment…among other things.

“So, who’re you? Judging by the apple cutie mark, I’m hoping you’re Red Delicious.”

The boy’s mother looked Macintosh up and down, just short of full on leering which made him quite uncomfortable. Her wings hovered a bit from their tucked position, something Macintosh had a passing understanding of thanks to Rainbow Dash.

“Uh, no, that’s my cousin. The name’s Big Macintosh. I’m traveling, looking for someone.”

She rolled her tail under his chin, making him quite uncomfortable. Despite being the most eligible bachelor in Ponyville, he didn’t get out with the mares much. A respectable amount but not much.

“Hope it’s me, dear.”

Twin Snakes put himself between Macintosh and her advances, coughing loudly to break up the mood.

“Morning Glory, the boy hasn’t even sat down since he got here and I don’t think he’s ready to lay down either! Boys new and isn’t looking for anything you’ve got to offer.”

She clicked her tongue, irritated.

“Bring him by the bar later and let him make up his own mind. I’ll have to pay you in drinks again.”

“Good. We’ll be there.”

The door shut, Macintosh sighing in relief that such forward mares were rare.

“A bar huh? I should be able to find some information there.”

The doctor handed him a grey trench coat which he gladly put on as he was pushed outside. A shovel harness lay half buried in the nearby snow, covered in rust from the poor care it was obviously given. Twin Snakes picked it up and tried to put it on the large pony, thinking that a couple new holes might be required.

“What information are you looking for? Maybe I can get more work out of you for it. This town works on favors mostly.”

The harness was a bit small but he got into it anyway, looking at the job ahead of him.

“I’m looking for Dr. White Heart. I need to have…words with him. Strong words. He kidnapped my sister and a bunch of her friends.”

Twin Snakes laughed, his glasses almost falling off. Macintosh could see no humor in this at all, briefly imagining himself burying the old doctor’s head in a snow bank.

“Boy, you finish this and some other things and I’ll tell you all about White Heart. Take about an hour or two.”

He slammed the door before the surprised Macintosh could ask any questions, a large amount of snow falling from the roof added to his workload.

Hopefully an hour lost wouldn’t matter.

Quill stared around the brightly lit and immaculately clean dungeon of the Canterlot palace and for the first time realized that everything in Equestria was bizarrely clean.

Spike sat a few feet away, his hang dog expression of a few days ago back.

“I’m sorry Spike.”

“Don’t…don’t worry about it. It was my choice to join you. And from what I saw, you were right. We were right to do what we did. We just need someone to listen to us.”

“And I will.”

They looked up, the sudden bright glow of the Princess of the Sun lighting the darkened room.

Quill had treated celebrities like any one else any time he interviewed one but he actually got down and bowed for the princess, his forehead touching the stone floor. Spike, having known her for much longer, spoke more casually.

“Hey Princess. You did get our letter, right?”

She nodded, her face unusually unreadable to Spike who had never seen her look so stony and serious. Even at trial as judge, she’d worn a look of barely contained rage. Spike patted Quill’s shoulder, signaling him to get up.

“Princess, are you alright?”

She shook her head. Her raiments sparkled and the light she exuded was a healthy glow but they could see dark circles under her eyes, a sure sign of the ill rest she’d been getting lately.

“I’ve just been such a yo-yo of emotion lately. Guard, open this door.”

He did as told and she entered, taking a seat on the floor in front of them. The sight of the Princess kneeling on a dungeon floor in front of two of her chained subjects was surely one of the most bizarre things Quill had ever seen, but lately he’d seen lots of bizarre things.

“Now tell me everything. Leave nothing out. You started this, didn’t you Quill?”

He began the story. Macintosh visiting him, his meeting with Iron Flank, the clues they’d uncovered, right up to having to dig up Fluttershy. Spike backed up any statements he felt needed reinforcing, wanting to be held just as accountable in the endeavor.

She nodded but asked no questions and gathered her thoughts when the account was finished. The scratching of the guard’s pencil on his sudoku puzzle was the only background noise.

“I received a report that Macintosh encountered my Elite guard in Manehattan. There was a fight but Macintosh fought them all off and probably made it to Land’s End in the Discord’s Smile mountains. Captain Iron Flank is still in pursuit…but I’m going to tell him to call it off.”

The two prisoners eyes went wide, then smiles spread over their faces, their cheeks hurting from the unused muscles getting such a work out. It was the first good news in a while.

“So you believe us!?”

“I went to the grave myself and examined the contents. The bodies were indeed homunculi and the reason our magical coroners didn’t detect the fake doubles was the high level of magic injected into their creation, something usually only possible with abnormally high natural magic power. An amount only four or five ponies across Equestria have, including myself and Twilight Sparkle. Only after being buried did it become apparent they weren’t real, probably when the spell caster loosed his reign over them.”

She stood, bowing her head to them deeply. She hadn’t had to utter this next line in several centuries.

“But yes, Macintosh is pardoned. I was wrong and I deeply apologize to you two and Macintosh as well as soon as I see him. You’re all very brave to go against a Goddess who was too emotional to be reasonable.”

She stood up, bidding the guard to come over and unlock the shackles they were wearing. Quill’s wrists hurt, vigorous rubbing getting the circulation flowing again. He hoped it would be a while before he was arrested again.

“Please follow me. I’m sure you’re hungry and I have a little work for you to do and some facts I feel you’ll need to do it.”

She led them out of the cell, up several flights of stairs to a small luncheon she’d had prepared as the informal part of the apology.

“I have to explain to you why it can’t have been Dr. White Heart.”

They sat, Spike glad to see a bowl of gems that he fell upon, realizing how hungry he was. Quill was more interested in what she had to say though did grab a couple of cookies. He loved cookies.

“Why is that?”

“Dr. White Heart is dead.”

“He’s what?! But I saw him!”

A few of the other patrons turned to look at the fascinatingly large newcomer, Macintosh settling down when he realized he’d upset the usually quiet pub in the late evening. The doctor sat next to him at the bar, pulling the boy back down.

“I worked with White Heart shortly after he arrived. We were around the same age, both dedicated doctors and the only people around the area with proper medical knowledge. Even though he had low magic power, he used it so efficiently, it didn’t matter. He was the best there ever was or ever will be.”

He took a long tug off the straw in the flagon before him, drinking what had to be the spit of death itself, judging by the smell.

Morning Glory set a flagon in front of Macintosh, giving him a wink.

“Hard apple cider, Red. On the house.”

He thanked her, unable to say that liquor in any amount made him ill, even the relatively soft hard cider Granny Smith made for her rheumatism medicine. Twin Snakes continued.

“White Heart was banished here because he turned his wife to stone, y’know, like a cockatrice would. Flesh to Stone spells are forbidden because they leave the mind thinking inside the prison body.”

“Why did he do it?”

“His wife was sick and on the verge of death. I heard from him it was incurable, neither science nor magic had any effect.”

“How is that possible? My little sister chipped her tooth once, took a swig of magic potion and it grew back immediately.”

The doctor sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, but this was a virus. Magic can’t affect anything that small. It’s the same idea behind turning lead to gold. Gold and Lead are elements at the atomic level. One can’t be made into the other and viruses are immune to magic because of their size. It’s like trying to do surgery in a dark room. You can’t even see what you’re doing at that scale.”

Twin Snakes called for another flagon, having worked up a thirst from ordering Macintosh around all day. Mac was trying to wrap his head around this crash course on the secret workings of magic. He wished Twilight were there to explain it to him.

“And medicine? What about pills and potions and stuff?”

“Equestria relies on Magic almost to the exclusion of non-magical medicine. It just wasn’t advanced enough to help.”

They were quiet, Twin Snakes staring down into his drink as some unpleasant memory weighed on his mind. Something that seemed to age him right in front of Macintosh as the weight of whatever memory deepened the lines in the doctor’s face.

“When he arrived, he told me the story. We sat right here and he told me how he traveled all over Equestria and beyond, before his banishment, learning everything he could from the Zebra Tribes, the Kirin way out East and the Griffons. None of it helped. Meanwhile his wife got weaker and weaker until there were mere days left for her.”

He took another drink, his hoof shaking. Macintosh didn’t know if it was from the liquor or whatever memories were resurfacing in his old brain but he patted the old pony on the back. He stared deeper into his cup and kept talking.

“That was when he did it. He couldn’t accept an end where his wife, the only thing in the world he loved, could be taken from him by the very thing he’d fought his whole life. I’d mentioned he had low magic power but there is one way for a unicorn to perfectly cast a spell. A Broken Horn spell.”

“And that is?”

“If a unicorn focuses enough power through their horn, they can shatter it. The effects of any spells cast at the time are inflated astronomically.”

He nodded, feeling like he had a grasp of where the story was going but with a few questions.

“Then why didn’t he try to cure her with one?”

“He did. He sold everything he had and paid off another unicorn friend of his to try. You’d think the effect would be like trying to swat a fly with a sledgehammer but it was more like putting a pencil between two sledgehammers and trying to write. Magic still can’t affect something that small, regardless of how much of it there is.”

“So what happened next?”

“I’m getting to that!”

Twin Snakes yelled at Macintosh, the patrons turning to look at the rowdy conversation again. Those without anything better to do even found themselves listening in as entertainment was scarce around town lately.

“Sorry boy, I’m sorry. I just had a lot in common with White Heart. I lost my wife too. You could say this town is filled with stories like that, those banished for loving too much. Mercy killers, those who killed to defend family, even accidental ponyslaughter. It wasn’t always proper banishment. Ponies in Equestria treat you different if they know you’ve killed someone and lots of us leave on our own.”

There were nods from around the bar, the mood dropping considerably. Even the overly flirtatious bar hostess seemed to have something on her mind now that Twin Snakes brought it up. Twin Snakes voice had caught when he’d said ‘mercy killers’, giving Macintosh an idea of why Twin Snakes was in Land’s End.

“So, he made absolutely sure to cast a sleep spell on her mind before he turned her to stone, ensuring, hopefully, that she would stay that way until he could come up with some way to cure her. Unfortunately he was found out by concerned friends and reported to the authorities. He was imprisoned, tried and banished all the way out here, told never to return to Equestria under penalty of death. His wife was placed in the Royal Equestrian Gardens under the title ‘Sleeping Mare’. White Heart showed me a picture he paid someone to take after the banishment. She looks like a real angel, curled up as though she were sleeping.”

“Couldn’t it have been reversed?”

“Sure, but she had no family who might’ve paid for it and no one else was willing to forego magic for a few years while their horn grew back.”

Macintosh took a little sip of his drink, thinking it over. It wasn’t as hard as his grandmother’s cider, surprisingly.

“But you said he was dead. Did he go back?”

“Of course. Oh, he tried to stay away. He worked here for a few years, constantly working on advancing the state of non-magical medicine but he hit a road block. There was only so much he could learn by…well, experimenting without living subjects. And while there are plenty of people here, there simply weren’t as many as needed or as much variety. That and we’re like family here. You leave Equestria, this is it. Your friends are where you can find them and friends are family here.”

A shudder ran down Macintosh spine, imagining what was coming next. Another drink came down to Twin Snakes, the story obviously upsetting him as he tried to forget it even as he told it.

“He disappeared in the night, leaving me the keys to our business and minus a large medical bag and some supplies. A couple of weeks later I heard that ponies started disappearing in Canterlot. They chased this unknown figure for months, unable to catch him. It wasn’t until Iron Flank joined the guards that they even found out who he was. Ever heard of Iron Flank, boy?”

Macintosh tapped a hoof to his chest.

“He gave me these bruises.”

No one seemed to care that he’d just outed himself as a criminal, Twin Snakes not even missing a beat as he went ahead.

“He finally tracked White Heart to his secret lair in the city, a lab set up in the sewers. I don’t know how but White Heart escaped, losing his lab but taking his research with him. Iron Flank did the one thing he knew would draw him out. Celestia didn’t want to go through with it I hear, but she had other citizens to think of and signed off on it. There was an announcement that Sleeping Mare was to be demolished, no reason given. Iron Flank knew that White Heart would show himself for that. And he did.”

The doctor took a long drink, nearing the end of his story, swaying in place.

“Even with all the guards they had on hand, it was like trying to stop a monsoon with a cheap umbrella. White Heart tore into the place, throwing potions and casting what spells he could, paralyzing and incapacitating everyone that came his way.”

Twin Snakes made magical unicorn ‘pew’ noises and threw imaginary potions of his own, Macintosh moving their cups just before he tipped either of them over and putting them back when he settled down.

“I don’t know how he planned to leave with his wife’s statue and I don’t think he knew either, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let anyone destroy it. Iron Flank finally confronted him in the gardens, the gauntlet of guards having weakened the doctor and depleted his resource of potions and strength. Iron Flank beat him far, far past what was necessary and left him in a heap in front of his wife, all his bones broken or a good many of them. The fact that it was White Heart was kept out of the papers, Celestia not wanting to worry her citizens that any pony banished could just march right back in and kill them. But I knew. When they brought his shattered body back and told us to deal with it, I knew.”

He laid his head down , tired from talking so much. Morning Glory cleared the glasses away, wiping down the counter just before the old pony’s head fell onto it. His voice got softer.

“I hauled him up to the mountains and dug his grave myself. Pushed the pine box into the hole and covered it up. It was a surprise to me when Celestia showed up as I was digging…all alone…nary a guard in sight. She’d flown all the way from Canterlot with that statue and placed it at the head of his grave, to watch over him for ever, ever…”

He finally fell asleep, the alcohol having been too much for him. Morning Glory sighed over the old man, looking up at Macintosh.

“Can you take him home?”

“Sure, ma’am. Sorry for the making him tell me such an awful story here. Seems to have hurt the mood.”

She looked around at the usual customers. They were all the same sad faces as every other day.

“Don’t worry about it. I’d be interested to know why you needed to know about him.”

Macintosh hoisted Twin Snakes onto his back, confident that no amount of jostling could wake the inebriated pony.

“My sister was kidnapped by White Heart, I’m sure of it. The one I saw and this guy sound similar and look similar. It has to be him! If it’s not then…I don’t know what to do next.”

He was about to turn and leave, probably for a night of tossing and turning when she stopped him.

“It’s probably unrelated but people have disappeared around this town for years. Mostly travelers, so no one really cared and this area isn’t exactly safe but they were all looking for White Heart’s grave. Some fool people have it in their heads that visiting it can cure illnesses and pains. Take from that what you will.”

With no other leads, taking a walk into the mountains the next morning couldn’t hurt.

“Thanks, Glory. I appreciate it.”

“You can pay me in snuggles.”

Macintosh didn’t know if she was serious or not, just smiled and thanked her, heading back to the doctor’s office home.

Quill stared down at the sandwich in front of him, trying to understand everything about the story he’d just heard from the Princess. Spike had fallen asleep, the poor boy tuckered out from the days exertions and the meal.

“So, White Heart came back to find subjects to experiment on?”

Celestia telekinetically stirred her tea, taking a sip and floating over some sugar cubes.

“Yes. But I was a close friend of Moon Drop, his wife. She was a student at my school and, like Twilight, someone I kept close tabs on. Of course I took an interest in White Heart when they became a couple and eventually got married. I can say in all honesty, he only did the awful, twisted things he did out of love. I can’t tell you how hard it is to lose someone you’ve grown close to. I’ve been doing it for hundreds of years and it’s just as hard each and every time.”

“Princess, couldn’t you have done something?”

She shook her head. The sun was slowly dropping in the sky behind them, Luna’s distant body on the ceremonial platform being allowed to lower the sun as Celestia attended to the mess that had occurred.

“I tried but it was ineffective. Sometimes I think it was because I subconsciously wanted to fail and not have to watch her die when she was flesh and blood again. I can only hope he wasn’t lying when he said he’d put her mind to sleep beforehand.”

It was getting late, the Princess unable to stifle a decidedly un-graceful yawn. It was passed on to Quill and even to the sleeping Spike. The Princess smiled at the amusing little scene and felt a little bad for what she had to ask the writer to do.

“Quill, I need you to write your next story about Macintosh’ pardon, something my guards can show to him and convince him it’s safe to come home. Can you have it done tonight and turned in to your editor?”

“Of course, Princess. I’m sure my boss’ll be giddy to scoop the whole country.”

Princess Celestia had arranged for a Pegasus drawn carriage to take them back to Ponyville, the Princess herself carrying instead of just floating the baby dragon for Quill.

He waved goodbye to the Princess as they took flight, already forming and organizing the paper in his mind.

There was still work to be done but the finish line was in sight and he was going to run full tilt for it. He knew Macintosh was doing the same.

Iron Flank stared out the window of the train, the dark of midnight coloring the land pitch black as the ugly grey clouds common to the north lands blocked the moon light.

His mood could best be described as ‘totally pissed off’ and while the source of his anger was Macintosh, there was a second, less expected source.

The new orders from Princess Celestia had finally come through, popping into existence just above the sleeping Cantrip’s head and caught before they fell on her. Each of his guards sat around him in the sleeper car, save for Rain who’d been shipped back home with a shattered wing and Cherry Tapper who’d had a slight mental break down of sorts after almost dying.

He’d read each word with incredulous disbelief, his teeth clenching tighter.

“Guard Captain Iron Flank,

Certain evidence has come to light that completely exonerates Big Macintosh of all wrong doing.

Please change your mission to one of a peaceful nature and bring Macintosh back unharmed. I wish to formally apologize to him for my misinformed ruling.

-Princess Celestia.”

He took a deep breath, realizing that maybe his anger over this insult to the princess, the very idea that she had to apologize to some country hick, could cloud his judgment. After all, if every word she said was infallible, didn’t that mean that even this was correct?

Wait…she said Macintosh was guilty…now she says he’s not…if everything she says is true…dammit!

He shattered the window with a hoof, the cold wind blowing through and the crashing sound waking his remaining soldiers.

“What-! Sir, what is it!?”

He wasn’t sure who was talking. Probably Cantrip. He was lost in his own little deity paradox.

Thinking back, it was the Princess who had told him, when he was just a little colt living in a state run orphanage, that he had to control his anger. Fighting out of anger achieved nothing and only fighting to protect something you loved was truly acceptable.

And he’d wanted to become a guard to protect her.

Did that mean that anything he did in the Princess’ name was noble? As long as he wore a guard uniform, everything was fair?

“Sir!”

He snapped to attention, realizing Cantrip was yelling at him, checking his hoof for any bleeding or glass shards. Luckily the bandages from being bitten by Macintosh had prevented any further damage to that arm.

For now, he was back in the present. Earth Mover was sleeping through the commotion, Cantrip was doing her overly protective mothering thing and Meteor Storm was explaining that the little problem of the window would be paid for by Canterlot castle. He had been given an order and he was going to follow it. Bring Macintosh back.

He could see the few lights of Land’s End in the distance, the train almost upon their destination.

Yeah, he’d just follow orders.

Chapter 5

Little Macintosh walked through the graveyard, the dreary clouds still hanging overhead, all rained out. The pegasi had not taken the time to clear them out, the whole of Ponyville too distraught over the death of two of its favorite citizens to attend to normal business.

Applejack looked so tiny by herself, standing just in front of the graves for their parents. She hadn’t moved since the end of the funeral three hours ago.

“Applejack, come inside. It’s getting late.”

She just shook her head.

“What’s gonna happen Macintosh? They’re not gonna separate us are they?”

Sighing, he sat down next to her. Wet cheeks showed she’d been crying. Macintosh hadn’t cried since the night it happened. If the extended family had seen how torn up he was, they would have interfered with his plan to keep the farm running by himself. A plan he couldn’t afford to have thwarted.

“No. Ah asked Granny Smith to let me stay here and take over the farm and that Ah’d take care of you two. She’d only agree if Ah let her stay here too and see how it goes first. Ah won’t let anyone separate us AJ.”

“But, Macintosh you’re still in school…”

He knew that. It hadn’t taken him any time at all to decide that he didn’t need any more schooling than he’d had to pick apples. Maybe AJ could be the brains when she’d finished learning all those fancy mathematics.

“Don’t you worry about that.”

She realized it was a big sacrifice he was making, giving up school when he’d only made it to the 9th grade.

“Oh, brother…”

Turning to hug him, she instead hurt her forehead slightly when it hit the yoke Macintosh wore around his neck. She stared a moment before she realized what it was.

“Macintosh, that’s dad’s…”

He looked down, rubbing a hoof over the wooden adornment. It had been returned from the ruins of the house, barely burned, even with everything it had been through.

“Yeah. This thing’s heavy but if Ah need to be as strong as dad to work the farm, Ah thought it would help.”

He reached back behind him, pulling their mother’s hat off of one of the studs on the yoke.

“And Ah thought you’d want this…”

He placed it on her head, the rim falling over her eyes. She tilted it back, smelling the faint aroma of the apples picked in the last season. It was good to have these reminders but at the same time Applejack hated the need to be reminded. She buried her head in his chest, his arm stroking her hair as she started crying all over again.

The faintest whispers passed through Little Macintosh mind, now Big Macintosh.

Take care of them…Be strong, my boy…

He couldn’t explain it but his fears for the future calmed and his breathing steadied. Some foreign power, the unknown start of the mysterious earth magic he would need to take care of his family, awakened in him.

Everything would be alright.

Macintosh was unsurprised that his dreams had been invaded again last night, his subconscious no doubt trying to spur him onward with visions of his past.

Twin Snakes, sitting in front of the fire with a prairie oyster and feeling the after effects of his binge drinking, had been sick as a dog that morning, the bucket next to him half full. He barely managed to give him directions to White Heart’s grave between retches.

On his way out of town, Morning Glory had stopped him and given him a small lunch, popping his collar up around his neck against the cold.

“Be careful out there.”

“Ah will, miss.”

The small flattery of not being called ma’am wasn’t lost on her and she smiled, Macintosh thinking she wasn’t so bad after all despite how she had acted at their first meeting. The slap on the flank as he left changed his mind pretty quickly but she still just smiled as he tried to muster a half-hearted glare and walked away.

It was fairly straightforward. Walk straight out of town and follow the highest marked paths for about three miles. It was snowing lightly again, if it ever stopped at all, and the sun rise could barely be seen in the distance, peeking through a tiny break in the clouds.

Cresting the last upward path, he found it. A large pile of rocks and a large pedestal behind it sans any sort of statue.

Bypassing the grave, he looked at the pedestal, wondering if someone had stolen Sleeping Mare for some reason. Instead, he saw a scrawled message carved into the stone and a poorly chiseled but recognizable image of the sun either setting or rising between two mountains.

“Those fearing death, those afflicted and poor and those hurting can find the light of help on our doorstep. The only payment requested is a willingness to face the possibility of death and a willingness to fight it.”

Looking out over the landscape, Macintosh saw the two mountains in question. Where he stood, the peaks of mountains were above the clouds and the sun shone beautifully. The spot shown on the carving was marked by the actual sun in the same spot here, sliding up the leftmost side of the left mountain. Maybe a two hour walk.

“Macintosh.”

The sudden voice in the peaceful quiet startled him, his body whipping around to see who it was. Iron Flank stood there, his three remaining soldiers behind him, wearing coats they’d picked up in town.

Cantrip handed her leader a newspaper which he threw down at Macintosh feet.

“What’s this?”

“You have eyes, read it.”

Still keeping an eye on them, he glanced down, shocked at the headline.

“Macintosh Innocent!”

The byline read Quill Pagein, the article detailing the secret investigation and subsequent ruling change by Celestia. It was an amazing bit of writing, at once both sympathetic to the Princess and Macintosh, simply grateful that the world was normal again.

“Is this real?”

“I wish it weren’t. We have to take you home so the Goddess can…she asked us to bring you. Now come on.”

Macintosh stared back at them, happy that Quill had done it and sad that even if he returned home, it wouldn’t really be home. Not yet.

“No. Ah can’t.”

Iron Flank took a step forward, his face starting to seep the anger he was already feeling inside.

“What was that?”

“Ah’m following a lead on White Heart. Ah’m going to find my sister.”

Iron Flank spat each word out, enunciating each one so the obviously addled farmer could understand what was supposed to be so simple.

“White Heart is dead! I don’t know if you know that but I was there! I was the one that broke his legs, snapped his spine and I’m sure, at one point, his neck too! I killed him! He’s not the one!”

“He is!”

Iron Flank advanced, going nose to nose with Macintosh, ready to push him right over the edge of the cliff. His neck snapped around to look at the grave, the pile of rocks covering a wooden coffin that peeked out where some of the stones had fallen away. That would prove it.

“Meteor Storm, pull that coffin out!”

A yellow aura surrounded the rocks, sweeping them all aside in a single swoop, the coffin lifting into the air and spinning around before lowering upright.

Iron Flank stepped up next to it, striking the clasp that held it closed and breaking the frail wood around it.

“Look! This is White Heart!”

It swung open, a pile of perfectly white, broken bones spilling forth, clattering upon the rocky ground. A unicorn skull landed atop it, staring at Macintosh with its empty sockets and pointy horn.

“He’s dead! Do you understand now? Your adventure ends here. You had a good run but us professionals are going to take over.”

“No.”

If there was something Iron Flank never heard, it was someone refusing an order from him. He stepped forward, closing in on Macintosh.

“What was that?”

Macintosh stepped backward, slipping towards the edge of the cliff. He looked down, a hill of gravel and rocky outcroppings forming an impromptu stairway down. He hoped there weren’t any nasty surprises below the clouds.

“Ah said Ah’m going to rescue her. She’s my sister and if anyone does anything to a member of the Apple family, it gets handled by the Apple family. By me.”

He dropped off the edge of the cliff, slipping down a cascading waterfall of broken stones and pebbles, hooves catching the occasional rock outcropping as he tried to stay upright.

Iron Flank watched him disappear, grinding his teeth again at this newest interruption of his duties and most recent slight by Macintosh against Celestia. He wasn’t about to follow though. He was reckless, not foolish.

Plus, his eyes glancing over the message in stone Macintosh had surely been looking at, he knew exactly where to find him.

“What now sir? He refused to come back.”

Iron Flank walked past his communications officer, the other two trying to cram the bones back into the coffin.

“We’re going to arrest him. Ignoring a royal order is a punishable offense. If we have to get violent, all the better.”

“And this, sir?”

Earth Mover finished packing the rocks back on top of the coffin, now staring down at the pedestal carving.

“That bull? I guess we’ll see what it’s all about when we get there.”

Macintosh had made excellent time after sliding down the mountain, using his magic to keep his stamina up as he sped down trails and up paths. The sight of the bones had shaken his belief in the who but his sister was still missing which made the who less important.

As he ran, he’d catch brief glimpses behind him, the group of soldiers teleporting after him but always keeping their distance. It looked like they weren’t giving up either.

He slowed as he arrived at a wooden sign that simply read “Shanty Town”, the path leading up the mountain to the sun marked spot from earlier. Steep in some places, it appeared to be quite well maintained, as though regularly traveled and kept clean to avoid accidents.

Macintosh went back and forth up the mountain, going slowly through the heavily fogged areas until it leveled off under a massive rock overhang. Practically half of the mountain was carved out or naturally missing. Posts were planted all around the lip of the overhang, a large wooden gate just in front of the end of the path.

Looking back down the mountain, he couldn’t see Iron Flank or his posse anywhere.

Unidentifiable noises came over the gate as he approached.

“Are you sick?”

He turned his head up to see a pink pony looking down at him from a watch tower near the gate. She was barely older than Apple Bloom but there she was, guarding the gate.

“Um, no. Ah was-“

“Are you infirm?”

“No, Ah’m looking-“

“Wait a moment.”

She disappeared, leaving Macintosh alone in the cold wind for several minutes. It was enough time to eat the sandwich Morning Glory had given for him and fool around with the door. He pushed on the gate a few more times, wondering just how much force it would take to break it open when she called out to him again.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you in. Sorry.”

“Is Dr. White Heart in there?”

She shook her head.

“We’re not allowed to talk about anything in our village. Sorry.”

“Oh.”

Macintosh backed up to the gate, the girl still watching as he focused earth magic into his legs.

The gate ripped from its hinges, flying inward.

He felt a little bad about it. Surely he could’ve tried talking a bit more but he didn’t think anypony with a wall that big was too keen on opening it for a stranger. He’d offer to fix it later and hope that made up for it.

Walking in, he saw large, well built homes in perfectly planned rows that hardly resembled a real shanty town. Each house was carved directly out of the mountain, the edges of buildings curved down into the ground instead of straight edges.

Ponies hid behind walls and peeked through windows at Macintosh, not used to having visitors at all, much less one so violent.

“I’m sorry, I really am.”

They hid as soon as he opened his mouth, ducking back behind buildings, inside barrels and still peeking through windows.

Definitely not used to visitors.

“Ah’m looking for Dr. White Heart. If anyone could tell me if there’s someone here named that or just a white unicorn here with a scalpel cutie mark it’d be a huge help. Anything would help, really.”

The quiet continued, no one wanting to step forward and possibly get beaten up by someone who had already broken down their gate. He entreated them again, holding his hooves out in a pleading manner.

“Please? Ah’ll go as soon as Ah can get an answer.”

One pony finally stepped forward from behind a building, walking crookedly, as though one leg were longer than the other. The closer he got, Macintosh could see that one leg was prosthetic, formed from a black metal with green lines running through it that shifted periodically. He looked into Macintosh eyes, the left eye with the same black material forming the sclera and the iris colored the same green as the lines.

“Who are you? We’re just a peaceful town trying to live quietly. What do you want?”

Other ponies peeked a little further out, Macintosh seeing that many others had similarly missing and replaced limbs, some seemingly normal or changed in some way Macintosh couldn’t see. He tensed, just a bit worried at how unnatural they seemed but talked to the brave one who had met him halfway.

“I’m looking for Dr. White Heart. He’s a unicorn, white coat, scalpel cutie mark. He kidnapped my sister and her friends.”

“Haven’t seen him. Sorry.”

“You suck at asking questions.”

Iron Flank and his guards had finally caught up, walking in through the busted gate. What little courage the mountain dwellers had gained against Macintosh vanished when more outsiders showed up, ducking back to their hiding spots.

“There’s a lot of magic gathered here but so few unicorns…”

Meteor Storm was taking the magical measure of the land, Iron Flank’s team meeting Macintosh in the center of town. The brave pony’s bizarre eye flitted back and forth, scared of the newcomers. Iron Flank growled at Macintosh.

“Are you always so polite?”

Without waiting for any response from him, he slugged the brave pony in the jaw, sending him sprawling to his back.

“I’m only doing this so we can get out of here. It’s cold.”

He straddled the pony, pinning him to the ground and raising a hoof to strike him again.

“Now, answer the kid’s question. Is there a Doctor White Heart here?”

“Yes!”

“Se…”

Just about to give Macintosh a ‘told you’ look and a triumphant ‘see?’, his face instead froze in mid-sentence. Macintosh pressed the questioning.

“So they’re here?! My sister and her friends?”

He coughed as Iron Flank pressed on his chest, the air in his lungs squeezed out. The townsfolk crept closer, gaining courage when they saw how badly Iron Flank was hurting one of their own.

“I can’t say! White Heart said these latest experiments would finally unlock the last few secrets to the pony body! We might all be normal and healthy again! He’d finally be able to conquer disease, to rebuild bodies from practically nothing!”

He can’t be…

Iron Flank now, very badly, wanted some answers as well.

“Good, cause if you don’t tell me, he’s gonna have to rebuild yours!”

His hoof pistoned down, cracking the solid rock next to the ponies head, giving him the general idea of what would happen if he didn’t speak.

“Th-the lab!”

He pointed towards the back wall of the cave. Macintosh dashed off as soon as the pony gave him a definite place to go. What none of them had noticed while occupied with the interrogation was the growing number of the crowd that encircled them. His powerful legs easily vaulted him over the heads of the crowd, leaving the soldiers behind.

“Uh, sir…?”

“We’re fighting through.”

Whatever was going on here warranted his investigation and, so help him Celestia, someone was getting beaten up either way, weird ponies, White Heart or impostor. Hell, Macintosh for dragging him out here might catch hell as well.

Two metal doors rose up in front of Macintosh, rage and magic filling his body as he smashed them aside, charging down a white hallway lit with bright fluorescent lights and stone floors, a strange juxtaposition with the crude and slightly dirty homes from outside.

“Applejack! Applejack!!”

He yelled as he ran looking into doors that led to empty rooms all along the main hallway, each filled with some unusual project or flash of fleshy mess as he raced by. He was close, he could feel her!

The hallway ended at two large doors, once again crashing open as he charged through them. The room was large, a ceiling that reached high up into the mountain. Glass cylinders held the same flesh masses he’d passed earlier, probably blank homunculi. The unusual metal limbs and eyes he’d seen in the citizens outside lay on a long table against the wall, waiting for ponies they could be attached to.

What he had traveled all that way for was in right there.

Six cells, three on each side, were set into the walls, each one holding one of the six missing ponies he’d been searching for.

He ran over to the first cell on the left, a foot thick wall of glass with no entrance serving as the door, and there she was. Applejack looked up at his approach, her eyes wide as she recognized the familiar red coat and orange mane. As she yelled, her voice alerted the rest of the girls to this miraculous appearance.

“Macintosh!”

More cries of Macintosh filled the air. They were glad yells full of hope.

His eyes flitted over the surface of the glass and he saw, just as before, that there was no exit or entrance. There were no switches next to them and no way to open them up.

“Please, I’m trying to take notes!”

Suddenly, whatever sound Applejack or the girls had been making was silenced. Macintosh turned towards the sound of the note taker.

It was White Heart sitting at the end of the room, scribbling notes in a journal. The statue of his wife looking down on him from a pedestal he’d erected before his work space, a stairway on either side allowing viewers to approach and look closely at it.

The noise of Macintosh’ entrance and the subsequent yelling seemed to knock him out of his work trance, making him throw his pencil down on the table.

“How am I supposed to work like this?!”

He stood up and turned, raising an eyebrow as he saw Macintosh. He was clearly surprised and smiled as though he were genuinely happy.

“Macintosh, what a surprise! If I’d known you were coming I’d have baked a cake. Or perhaps some other treat more to your liking. Apple Pie?”

Macintosh took a step closer. He was willing, not happy to but willing, to try talking first.

“Let them go!”

White Heart shook his head, clicking his tongue at such a huge demand. He walked towards the cells on the other side of the room, Macintosh seeing that his legs were the same black and green metal as those outside. A long strip ran along his back, amounting to what was his exposed spine.

He checked the few notes he’d taken on each subject, clipboards hanging next to each. He looked at Fluttershy inside the cell, passing down to Rainbow Dash and then Rarity in the cell directly across from Macintosh.

“Mac, Mac, Mac, I’m doing important research. Since perfecting magical surgery, I moved onto biological medicine and disease, prosthetics for anyone who needs them, genetics and magical technology. Have to come up with a catchy name for that last one.”

He floated a pencil and pad over, making a brief note, ignoring the angry red pony.

“Why did you do this?”

White Heart cupped his chin, thinking. He walked back to his desk, slapping the pad of paper down.

“I heard that the ‘Elements of Harmony’ had certain magical properties that I might utilize for my work. Changing the fundamental natures of objects like removing ‘good’ and ‘evil’ or what-have-you. It seemed promising for Micro-Magical studies, the scale of magic needed to operate on the atomic level. You see-“

“Shut. Up. I don’t care. Just tell me if I’m getting my sister back without killing you.”

It was as simple as that to Macintosh. The reasoning and explanations meant nothing to him at this point and he was tired of talking.

“I’m afraid not, my boy.”

Macintosh didn’t let him finish the sentence after he heard the ‘I’m afraid’. He dashed forward, hitting White Heart with the strongest hay maker he could muster, sending him rolling into his work desk and papers flying into the air. It was one of the most satisfying punches he’d ever thrown in his life.

White Heart stood, his smile lagging a little as the green flecks in his legs glowed brighter. His horn lit up green as he sucked magic from the air in the same way Macintosh interacted with the earth.

“I can see, Macintosh, that we can’t talk this out. I’m sure I’ll find some use for your organs.”

White Heart was across the room in an instant, catching Macintosh by the throat and slamming his face into Applejack’s cell, applying force enough to crack the foot thick glass. Macintosh struggled, the whir and click of the prosthesis creating more and more pressure in his skull.

His eyes met the cages occupant, his sister, who pounded on the glass, screaming for White Heart to stop, yelling all manner of threats and promises of violence that carried little weight for the doctor, if he could even hear them. She looked at her brother, mouthing something that couldn’t be heard through the glass.

Kick his ass, Macintosh!

Macintosh wasn’t dying here.

He kicked the doctor, going straight for his unarmored belly, pushing him back enough for Macintosh to catch a breath and long enough for the grey blur speeding across the room to stagger White Heart with a hammer blow across the face.

The doctor looked up, a magical defense taking most of the damage. His usual friendly face turning to burning rage when he recognized the assailant.

“Iron Flank.”

“White Heart.”

They circled one another, measuring the other’s strength. Macintosh rubbed his jaw and watched, wondering just what kind of crazy world forced him to fight alongside a pony who had only recently wanted him dead.

“How’d you survive me breaking your legs and spine?”

The doctor grinned.

“Spell of Death Likeness when I saw I wasn’t going to win. Floated myself back to this lab after they buried me. Had to amputate the limbs and make new ones.”

Iron Flank glanced at the statue, smirking.

“Still carrying a torch for a dead mare? Give it up White Heart.”

“Don’t talk about her.”

The acid in his voice was the first genuine sounding emotion Macintosh had heard in his words. It told Iron Flank just how to get at him and make him slip up.

“What’re you gonna do? Wait until I get sick and let me die? You seem good at that.”

White Heart let out a blood curdling cry, charging Iron Flank, his body a burning inferno of magic. Blinded as he was by rage, it gave Macintosh a perfect chance to strike, a double hoof buck to the side breaking the charge, shattering a few ribs in the process.

He landed on his side, rolling across the ground and upsetting shelves of books near his work space that came tumbling down on him. He stood, his legs trembling as he pushed the case off to the side. Any previous sign of the jovial villain was gone, instead replaced with a desire only for murder.

“Is this…Is this what they mean by lesser minds…uniting to oppose genius…?”

He charged directly at the two of them, crazed as his legs glowed bright, magic pulled from the area fueling his power.

Iron Flank and Macintosh stood side by side, readying to meet the charge, each ready for an end.

He was atop them, hooves striking out to clash two against one when a burst of liquid exploded between Iron Flank and Macintosh, each covered in something unknown as White Heart dodged backward, a new smile appearing on his face.

Another explosion, and another, the sound of shattering glass as the two were soaked in a clinical smelling liquid.

Macintosh collapsed to the ground, losing all his strength as the liquid seeped into his coat. Iron Flank still stood, shaking his suddenly foggy head.

“Did either of you forget I’m a doctor? I make potions?”

A suddenly visible flash appeared next to him.

“Fast acting poison in invisible bottles. I really don’t know who I hit with what but whatever you’re currently stewing in is guaranteed to leave you a mess.”

Macintosh struggled, trying to move legs and head that wouldn’t respond. Iron Flank was able to stand but stumbled back and forth, unable to stay up straight. White Heart diagnosed as he walked closer, that congenial speech back again.

“Ah, Paralysis and Confusion. Excellent.”

Iron Flank swung, the punch no where near the doctor, his vision splitting into doubles and triples as his depth perception disappeared altogether. His legs were kicked out from under him, White Heart kneeling down to whisper in his old enemy’s ear.

“I’m not sure I like being called out on my love by someone who can only love an unobtainable princess. I’ve wondered what Celstia’s insides look like too but I’m a mad doctor. What’s your excuse, deiphile?”

He crushed one of Iron Flanks legs underfoot, the bone snapping. He clenched his teeth, refusing to give White Heart any satisfaction in his screams.

“I’d love to talk at length later. Let me deal with Macintosh and we can have a nice chat.”

The ‘chat’ was punctuated by stomping on the broken leg. Telepathically lifting him, he tossed Iron Flank like a rag doll across to the far end of the room, slamming his body against the stair case, relishing the thought of further pain he could inflict on his former tormenter.

He turned on Macintosh, smiling at him again, happier now that any danger had passed.

“I won’t torture you Macintosh. In fact, you could say we’re very much alike and I feel for you. But my purpose in life is much greater. The science I’m creating has the potential to help millions, to save lives. So…goodbye and I’m sorry.”

Much greater? His life was so much more important than the insignificant lives of a few ponies? From where he lay, Macintosh could see three of the girls, the pleading looks on their faces. Applejack silently begged for her brother’s life, her hooves clasped together. Her life meant more to Macintosh than any one else’s.

With a great cry Macintosh wrenched magic from the earth, not absorbing it gently but allowing it to pour into him like an unstoppable raging rapid.

The paralysis vanished, Earth Pony magic made specifically for enhancing the body, stamina, and keeping the user healthy even against poisons.

He lunged up, smashing his forehead into White Heart’s nose, surprising the overconfident doctor. Macintosh lunged again as he stood, another head butt that knocked White Heart to his knees. He was done playing around.

“How did you…?!”

The brief distraction took his mind off the fight, letting Macintosh strike him several times, heavy blows that rattled White Heart’s brain, pushing him back each time. The doctor’s breathing was ragged, his side hurting, but he couldn’t stop his mind from wondering what insanity let Macintosh shrug off some of the strongest paralysis poisons in the world.

Macintosh was upon him, the visible blazing aura emanating from his body. Blood flowed down his face, the magic tearing his body apart as it ran rampant through him.

White Heart pulled more magic through his prosthesis, his body blazing just as bright. Heat swelled up in his legs, too much magic passing through them. It was a risk he had to take. Any less would be like a paper shield against the angry Macintosh and the next blow a fatal one.

Blows went back and forth, the fight dwindling to a slugfest as reason and strategy dwindled in their minds. They were both hurting, each desperately fighting for someone they loved and ignoring whatever pain they were in.

“White Heart…give up! I’m stronger than you!”

He punctuated this with a sledgehammer blow to White Heart’s face, a tooth cracking in his mouth. White Heart smiled around it, the hoof still against his cheek.

“But…I’m smarter.”

A sudden burst of telekinesis under Macintosh blew him upward, exposing his belly to White Heart’s low tech trump card. He pushed forward, gripping Macintosh and driving his horn into his gut, pushing as deep as he could and twisting his skull, digging into whatever meat he could find. A lung, the heart, the stomach, anything would be fine, so long as it killed Macintosh.

Time stopped for a moment, Macintosh rigid body slumping over White Heart but not fighting back. His grip neither grew tighter or lessened.

White Heart stepped back, the horn slipping out of the clean round wound and Macintosh falling to his knees. It didn’t even take a doctor to know Macintosh was still alive, his chest heaving with deep breaths but his body was burned out. The magic all rushed to his stomach to keep him alive but the shock of being stabbed was very distracting.

“White Heart…White Heart!”

He turned, his face bloody from stabbing, and wasn’t at all surprised to see Iron Flank standing at the far end of the room but his eyes went wide when he saw just where he was standing. The broken leg tucked up under his body and the other leaned heavily against White Hearts wife’s statue. The sleeping mare slid noisily across the pedestal.

“Get away from her!”

He tried summoning magic from the area, to use telekinesis to pull his wife towards him. His legs sparked, the delicate machinery he’d created burnt out from the fight. His legs shook, now just lumps of metal that held him upright.

“Looks like I won again White Heart.”

The statue slid further, Iron Flank still woozy from the poison, swaying back and forth as White Heart’s face went even whiter.

“But you’ve been fighting and killing for years just for this one mare. Lots of ponies died…just for her.”

It slid further, starting to tilt forward.

“You hurt my new enemy here, Macintosh.”

Slide.

“It made him hurt me and my guards.”

Slide.

“And you hurt Macintosh’ sister and her friends.”

White Heart was crying, listening to the awful truth he’d known all along. He did not regret becoming a monster to save his wife but that it now threatened her as well showed him the dangerous path he’d chosen.

“It’s time we ended this.”

“…stop…”

The weak cry was barely heard across the large room, White Heart shocked more than any one.

Macintosh stood, trembling. His head throbbed, his stomach churning as his guts tried to spill out of the tear in his belly. But he was standing.

“But she didn’t do any of those things. It’s not her fault.”

The statue was on the precipice, a single hard push ready to send it down the twenty foot drop, and shatter on the stone below.

“But she’s the root cause. Cut off the head and the body will die.”

Iron Flank’s hoof pushed from the bottom, the statue now starting its descent. Macintosh ran, leaping over White Heart’s head, screaming as he passed over the unicorn’s head.

“Launch me!”

White Heart’s mind raced, seeing, hoping that what he thought was happening was. Macintosh shattered the horn between his hooves, White Heart’s own natural magic bouncing between each little fragment. The green wave threw Macintosh, his body flying like a missile through the air, the statue dropping for every foot he flew.

Macintosh slid under it, hugging her close to his body as his arms grabbed it from the air. The wall shook as he slammed into it, hooves first.

The room fell quiet again, the heavy clops of White Hearts metal hooves the only sound as he dragged them across the room. It went on, the sounds out of sync as he limped, until he stood over the tired Macintosh who cradled the statue. Damage had still been done, one leg broken off and lying somewhere amidst the rubble they all sat in. It had been the only part to hit the ground.

White Heart took her in his arms, sobbing heavily, grateful that his only reason for being alive had been saved. He hugged her tightly.

No one would have expected the crumbling of the statue, the stone skin flaking away where Macintosh blood touched it, revealing the soft coat beneath. Macintosh’ blood from White Heart’s face, the blood from where Macintosh had grabbed her that leaked from his stomach.

“Like the poison…”

He dipped his hoof in Macintosh’ belly wound, wiping it over her face again, the stone crumbling away. He looked at the red stallion, mouth agape at what he was thinking.

“You’re immune to physical changes…Macintosh, have you ever been sick?”

“N-no. Just hurt.”

White Heart smiled, tears falling down his face.

“Please, Macintosh, listen to me…”

The winter snow fell all around Macintosh as he took deep, deep breaths in the middle of an orchard on Sweet Apple Acres. The barren trees held promise of a new year and heralded the return of his simple, uncomplicated life one month after the awful adventure he’d had to partake in. The coat he still had was nice though.

“Big Brother! Where are you?”

He savored every word his sister said, even when it interrupted his reflective moments. She appeared through the trees, the newest resident of Ponyville in tow. An aqua colored unicorn who was much older than she looked.

“Lookie who’s here. Came by to bring us gifts for the holidays.”

Moon Drop smiled at them, carrying a couple of wrapped presents in her saddle pack that she gave to them. Macintosh had first met her on the train home when she’d woken up. During the entire time White Heart had created a vaccine from Macintosh blood, she’d been under a deep sleep spell, just as her husband had hoped. She’d never known she was ‘Sleeping Mare’.

“Well what’s this for?”

“You’re only my favorite neighbors, silly. I mean, you went all the way to whatever facility I was in just because my husband asked you to…before…you know.”

Macintosh did know. He’d told Moon Drop that White Heart had asked him, with his dying breath, to take the vaccine he’d worked on his whole life to his wife. He’d realized that what he’d done, the monster he’d become was something he never wanted Moon Drop to know about. Remaining hidden in the far north was best for everyone.

The other lie, rather an omission of truth, was that her left leg was another of White Heart’s prosthesis, covered in illusion magic provided by a sympathetic Twilight.

Hopefully she’d never have to know any of those things.

“It’s okay. We were…close. I would do at least that much for him.”

Macintosh hated White Heart for everything he’d put the girls through. Though he’d never gotten the chance to tear the Elements of Harmony from their bodies, he’d told Macintosh his whole plan when it was over, not wanting his brilliance to go to waste even though it got him punched in the snout. Macintosh regretted hitting him while he stitched the hole in his stomach but only because White Heart had had to start over, the thread pulling out as the doctor fell over.

The girls didn’t talk much about the incident. They hadn’t been hurt and, once they’d gotten to know Moon Drop, hadn’t wanted to traumatize her with the truth.

It had been a fight to get Iron Flank to agree to any of it, still wanting more than anything to murder White Heart but they came to an uneasy agreement, the terms of which Macintosh had not been privy too.

Macintosh had tried to get Iron Flank in trouble, complaining that his methods and actions had overstepped the bounds of reasonable guard work. He had simply been told that a certain amount of ruthlessness was necessary for a guards work and he had gone unpunished, right back to Celestia’s side.

Macintosh hated Iron Flank too.

“Isn’t it about time to go, Macintosh?”

He looked up at the sun. Applejack was right.

Walking together they wound up at Sugar Cube Corner. One of Pinkie’s many holiday parties already in full swing as loud, blaring music welcomed them into the warm bakery.

There was Apple Bloom goofing off with her Cutie Mark Crusaders, stealing more than their share of cupcakes and wondering if speed eating was a real cutie mark.

Quill and Fluttershy smiled and talked quietly in a corner, sharing the one large scarf. He was serious about her and she about him but they were both too shy to let each other know. Macintosh waved and Quill waved back.

Spike was fawning over Rarity again, bringing her a cup of punch that she accepted gratefully.

Each and every pony there was happy and laughing, excited about the here and now.

Macintosh smiled.

Everything he needed in life was right there in Ponyville.

Chapter 1

What We Live For

By

Osper

The metal cuffs were too tight around his giant hooves and the short chain binding them looped through a ring in the floor that pulled his arms forward. His head had been chained to the wall and his back hurt from the uncomfortable sitting position he’d been in since after his trial two days ago.

Big Macintosh had watched the moonlight shift the shadow of the bars along the grey stone wall as his mind wandered over the last few days leading to his imprisonment.

He looked out the window to Sweet Apple Acres, just past the wooden fence encircling their home and out to the bare trees that signaled the end of Applebuck season and the start of winter. It had been hard, sweaty work but they’d gotten through another year and had made a decent profit.

Finishing the daisy sandwich he’d been working on and carefully wrapping it in a handkerchief, he slid it into his little sister’s saddle pack. Applebloom still had school to attend and now that Macintosh had free time he was going to make her lunch every day.

The clop of hooves on the second floor alerted him to his awakened sisters who both came down yawning and offering semi-intelligible greetings.

“Mornin’ Macintosh.”

“Mornin’ Big Brother.”

“Hi girls.”

The girls sat at the table, both tired looking but so used to waking early that they couldn’t sleep in. Applejack poured a bowl of cereal for herself and then another for Applebloom who ate it slowly while she waited for her brain to wake up, nearly nodding off in the bowl. Macintosh glanced up at the small ticking clock over the sink and gave his little sister a tap on the shoulder.

“Applebloom, you better get going. Field trip today.”

Her eyes lit up as she remembered.

“Oh yeah! Thanks Big Mac, Ah’d better go. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle wanted to meet early to talk about something.”

She slung her saddle packs over her flank and hurried to the door, briefly nuzzling her brothers’ neck as she left. Macintosh stood at the door, watching her until she was gone from sight.

“And what about you AJ? Any plans today?”

She yawned, her legs sore from the last day of bucking. They usually took a day off after the actual picking to recharge before they started with the final sales of the season.

“Thought I’d go into town, pick up some groceries. You?”

“Broken fence needs fixing. Reckon Ah’d better get it out of the way.”

She nodded, picking around in their refrigerator for something besides cereal.

“You should really relax a bit. I’m sure you’re just as sore as I am and I’d rather you didn’t get hurt again.”

He nodded, already heading outside.

“I will but the fence really needs to be fixed. Don’t worry.”

He left her behind and walked to the barn to get the nails and a new plank. Far, far off on the distant mountain, he could see Canterlot. You could see it from anywhere in Ponyville actually, but the farm was further out and got the more overall view. The waterfall on the outmost side of the city and castle was barely a speck, twinkling as the sun rose behind it.

A shiver ran through his back, the wind already chilled for the approaching winter. The Pegasi had scheduled a cold front for today and he could tell it was going to be an exceptionally cold one this year. He added getting the winter blankets down from the attic to his list of things to do.

The door creaked slightly as he pulled it open, the dark barn just begging for a candle to light it. With this years haul, he thought they really ought to consider getting electric lights installed on the farm.

His electrical musings suddenly jarred from his mind as the force of what had to be a train slamming into him sent Macintosh flying back through the open door, rolling along the ground and kicking up the dirt. Chickens scattered as he came to a stop where they’d been pecking the ground. His jaw had never hurt as much as that moment but an intense pressure on his side held him down, coming in a close second as the pressure increased.

“Don’t worry. This won’t hurt at all.”

He thrashed, getting the first glimpse of another white stallion who held him to the ground, his heavy hoof grinding into Macintosh’ side, the other hoof holding a small vial that the white Unicorn splashed in his face. He coughed wildly as he breathed it in, Macintosh tossing off the other stallion and getting wobbly to his feet. He blinked rapidly, his eyes stinging as his legs buckled under him.

“What…what was that!?”

The other pony doubled, tripled, Macintosh unable to stand any more as the world spun around him.

The unicorn walked over, leaning in close to Macintosh’ ear.

“Just go to sleep and know that you have done something very good for Equestria.”

A cry from his sister caught his attention, her orange body charging towards them as his vision grew black.

When he’d awoken he was already in custody, shackled to the wall in a jail cell with guards already waiting to talk to him. He’d been questioned for hours, the guards saying more and more alarming things that he had no memory of but was nonetheless held responsible for.

He’d killed six ponies and injured several more in a series of attacks that had lasted two hours, up until the royal guard showed and found him unconscious on the farm.

The trial had been speedy thanks to the mostly empty courts of Equestria and held only a single day after the incident.

Celestia had been the premier judge in something she had made a very high profile case. Why shouldn’t she? It had been one of her closest friends and students who had been killed as well as the many friends her student had made.

His lawyer, a fresh-out-of-law-school foal named Pro Bono had barely defended him at all, preferring to knuckle under and do as little work as possible in front of the angry countenance of the Sun Goddess.

The evidence, eye witness reports from almost all of Ponyville, blood found on his own hooves, testimony from those who had spoken to him or at him during the two hours, his own quiet temperament that ponies now recalled as sort of unsettling, had all been used against him. The trial had been attended by practically every citizen of Ponyville, ready to see justice be done.

No one would even listen to his story about a white stallion, laughing at him, openly wondering just how stupid he was to come up with such an obvious lie.

He hadn’t seen Applebloom at the trial and no one would tell him where she was or if she was okay. He was being treated like the scum of Equestria.

Guilty.

Six counts of murder, each body thrashed beyond recognition. Fluttershy, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Twilight Sparkle and Pinkie Pie were the victims, his mouth dropping open with every name listed.

Several dozen cases of assault as others attempted to stop him.

He’d had no memory of any of these allegations, only recalling that he’d been asleep the whole time.

The last thing he’d said, or been allowed to say before her own guards had had to hold Princess Celestia back from murdering him right there was,

“Princess, Ah didn’t do it.”

Two rough knocks on the door interrupted his thoughts as it swung open. Two guards entered, an earth pony and a unicorn, two more guards outside.

He stared at them, watching the angry and repulsed expressions on their faces, not that he could look away anyway.

“You’re making a mistake, Ah didn’t do it!”

They ignored him, as much as one earth pony hocking back and spitting on his face was ignoring, his words having no effect on them.

He was stood up, the unicorn guard binding his back hooves with another set of chains.

He was led through the still dark corridors of the castle, a clock telling of the mere ten minutes until scheduled sunrise. They finally led him out a door and into a courtyard, the viewing platform for the sun raising ceremony visible. Closer was a small marble platform with a tall stone structure housing a sharpened blade waiting just for him.

His sentence had been death by guillotine.

He stopped a moment and felt the morning wind in his mane, the feeling of soft earth beneath his hooves. One of the guards shoved him roughly, forcing him to move again.

A hooded figure stood by the guillotine. It was taller than even Macintosh but only barely.

There were very few murderers in Equestria, so few that a dragon could count a decades worth on a single clawed hand. As such, very few knew of the special ceremony that accompanied an execution.

The figure drew back its hood, revealing the dark complexion of Princess Luna under the remaining moonlight.

She spoke quietly, looking into his eyes.

“Big Macintosh, for the sins thou hast committed fueled by the darkness in thine heart, thy sentence has been death. Our sincere hope is that thine darkness will be left behind and purified by the rising sun. May thou find peace in the next life.”

His yoke was removed, the unicorn guard planting his hooves forcefully when he realized just how heavy it was and that his magic wasn’t strong enough to hold it up long.

“Dost thou have anything to say?”

The Princess asked him, waiting patiently.

He thought back, to last night and the visitor he’d had, a visitor no one else had seen.

“Hello, Macintosh.”

He lowered his head, losing count of all the cracks in the ceiling, surprised at the sudden intrusion. No door had opened, no mystical portal, but the white unicorn stood before him. The red stallion’s body jerked, practically tearing the anchors out of the wall in one sweep. The unicorn flew forward quickly, pinning Macintosh down.

“Please, calm down young man. Without my poisons and gases, a fair fight would be…much too fair for my taste.”

Macintosh glared, considering biting him as hard as he could. The Unicorn placed one heavy hoof on the younger pony’s chest to hold him there, a leg and hoof that glinted, covered in what seemed like black plate mail.

The unicorn smiled at him, attempting friendliness.

“I know you’re going to be executed tomorrow. I very much just wanted to thank you for taking the fall. By assuming your looks, I created a perfect alibi. I will never be found out and my work will continue, until the day I can reveal myself to the world once more, this time to adulation instead of banishment.”

He tried to move but there was too much strength holding him down and not enough leverage to break it. Gritting his teeth, he asked just one question.

“Why did you kill my sister?”

The unicorn smiled back.

“Macintosh, your sister and everyone else…they’re still alive. Considering their individual abilities and the fact that they can use the Elements of Harmony? Why, it’d be a crime to kill them.”

He thought a moment, bringing a hoof to his mouth.

“Well, more of a crime.”

“But, the bodies-!”

“Brainless homunculi! My boy, it’s child’s play to make a body!”

He took his hoof off Macintosh and turned his back, his body slowly fading from view.

“Thank you Macintosh. You have become a martyr for science this day.”

He was back in the courtyard, the princess before him, the guards near.

Digging into the soft soil, he began to feel energy flow from the dirt through his hooves, rejuvenating his tired body.

“Princess…Ah’m awful sorry.”

Pegasi could fly and control the weather with practice. Everyone knew that.

Unicorns could perform magical feats with practice. Everyone knew that.

What most ponyfolk didn’t know was the magic of earth ponies, even many earth ponies themselves. The magic that let them draw strength from the earth, to increase stamina or even physical strength for working the land.

If Twilight was the paragon of Unicorn magic and Rainbow was the Paragon of Pegasus flight, Big Macintosh was the Paragon of Earth Pony might, something he’d learned from his own father who had taught him to work the farm before his death.

The chains binding his legs together shattered as he pulled them apart, his back legs kicking out and sending the unicorn guard flying. The second guard was stunned just long enough for Macintosh to turn on him, slamming him down into the dirt with as non-lethal a tap as he could manage, still denting the guards’ helmet and sending him into unconsciousness.

The other two guards quickly closed in on him, both Pegasus ponies. Princess Luna called for more guards, aghast that someone would attempt to sully the holiness of a purification execution.

The sun began to rise slowly, Celestia probably on her balcony, completely unaware as yet of the commotion. Luna called again, louder, entreating any guard who could hear the ruckus to hurry.

The Pegasus guards floated over head, each attempting to dive bomb the freakishly strong pony, to attack and run so he couldn’t get a hold of either of them.

He grasped one of the slower flier’s tails in passing, throwing him to the ground, pounding him once on the skull to put his lights out. The other dove down, hoping to catch him distracted but got a surprise hoof to the mouth, sending him crashing to the dirt, his eyes rolling around in his head.

There they were. Servants were looking out windows, guards pouring from doorways at the Princess call. She spread her wings to intimidate him, her horn glowing as she readied a spell in case she had to fight.

“Stop this Macintosh! Thou art only making it harder on thyself!”

The Royal Canterlot voice might have cowed him any other time, but he had to escape. His sister was out there somewhere, in the hands of a mad pony and he wasn’t going to just let it end like this.

The guards were upon him attempting to encircle any escape route.

He turned, flipping his yoke up onto his neck and running full tilt for the Ceremonial sun raising stage, Pegasi flying above, the pounding of hooves behind. Flashes of magic from the Unicorns struck the ground around him, some striking his flank, stinging his magic-pumped body.

He set hoof to the marble stone, immediately losing the flow of energy from the earth. The only weakness to Earth Pony magic was a need for constant contact with real, unworked earth or stone.

The energy slackened moment by moment as his hooves pushed him closer to the railing.

Princess Luna flew ahead, her massive wings beating as she hovered just at the edge of the rail, her horn glowing as she tried to stun the stallion, hoping to paralyze him with a spell before he died his own way, leaping off the edge of Canterlot to the sharp rocks of the mountain below.

Guards slid to a stop behind him as he stepped up on the rail, Luna hitting him with the spell just as he leapt forward, paralyzing his body into what was now a very heavy and fast missile coming straight at her.

His body struck hers, his limbs tangling around wings as they plummeted, the side of the mountain shooting by, faster and faster.

Big Macintosh couldn’t move but he saw the lake far, far below, the one he had hoped was on this side of the mountain, that the waterfall from Canterlot emptied into.

Luna screamed, her wings frantically trying to beat but held down by the paper weight she had unintentionally created.

Forcing herself to calm down, she was able to banish the effect on him, the stallion shaking his head as he noticed the rapidly approaching cliff face.

“Ge-get off me!”

He didn’t respond, gripping her tightly as he kicked off the edge of the wall, sending them both tumbling end over end, the world flipping round and round far too quickly for the ball of red and purple to know what was coming.

With the last of the power he’d gathered from the earth, Macintosh tried to toughen his hide, hoping very hard that he didn’t end up using the princess as a shield against the pool they were going to slam into very soon.

Big Mac got his wish, pain blowing through his back as he passed through the rock hard surface of the water, feeling the earth magic stripped from his body like his very flesh.

The air shot from his lungs, escaping in bubbles towards the surface which told him which way to turn his pained body. His head broke surface, gasping for air as he paddled for shore. He bumped into the dark body of Luna, seeing that she was floating but barely conscious. Swimming up under her, he pulled her to shore, her soaking wings plopping onto the mud of the bank as he let her drop.

As much as he’d like to make sure she was okay, there was very little chance he could do it and escape too. A weak voice called out to him as he turned to trot off into the trees.

“Stop…”

She was trying to stand, her wings in pain even if he’d taken the brunt of the landing.

“Like I said Princess, Ah’m sorry.”

He limped off into the forest.

“What’s the situation?”

It hadn’t taken long for the news to reach the ears of High Guard Captain Iron Flank, who had rushed to the execution site. There were very few guards left in the castle, all non-essential ponypower being diverted to the chase. The unicorn he talked to nursed his sore head, having volunteered to stay behind and fill in their leader.

“We sent some Pegasus Carriers down with Earth Ponies and they’re sweeping the forest. Princess Luna was hurt but not badly and she’s with the doctor and her sister right now. We don’t understand how it happened. He wasn’t that strong before.”

“Typical. Non-unicorns don’t know magic when they see it and I figured it out from the description.”

Iron Flank had several specialized guards under his direct command and Meteor Storm had just joined him at the scene of the escape. The yellow unicorn was the best combat mage around and on magical matters involved in crimes, he was the first Iron Flank turned to.

“So tell, Meteor. And make it fast.”

“It’s, and forgive the oxymoron, earth pony magic. Not exactly common any more but pops up from time to time. It’s a combat enhancer that builds strength, defense, stamina, speed and other base, physical skills. Very effective in its brutish way.”

Iron Flank looked around the area, seeing nothing worth investigating, the beat of running hooves slowing down as they approached him.

Cantrip, his only female guard member and Unicorn in charge of Communications and Teleportation, had arrived. She wasn’t built for combat but her magic let soldiers move around a battlefield much more efficiently. That, and she took care of the mess that was Iron Flank’s office.

“Sorry I’m late sir. I was doing your paper work.”

“Don’t worry, just get a team together. This is a stain on the honor of every guard here and especially on her Highness. I won’t allow it to go on any longer. How about Earth Mover, Cherry Tapper and Rain Bullet, they’ll be a good team. You too, Meteor. Go.”

They saluted their leader and went about their business.

He turned to the risen sun, feeling as though Celestia could see every move he was making.

“Don’t worry, Goddess. I wont let anyone sully your name.”