Day 20

San Palomino Desert

“Got to be honest, while I am aware of the pain it is causing sugar,” Amaryllis said, not even bothering to whisper as Gemmy, Falke, and themselves watched Hearty inspect my newest physical appendage, “it is just so adorable. I’ve never seen one so tiny before.”

If it wasn’t for Hearty’s specific instruction to not move, I would have shot the changeling a harsh glare. The doctor was doing what little he could with a PipBuck and the very few medical utensils he could carry in his saddlebags. He looked ready to blow up based on the twitching eyelid and how only one side of his muzzle was curled downward. Knowing that it was all pointed at me, or rather the thing on my forehead, was both amusing and worrying. Its entire exist was no doubt causing him a large amount of stress.

“I’m pretty sure I already know the answer, but this isn’t normal for unicorns, right?” Falke asked.

“No, not normal in the slightest,” Hearty answered through gritted teeth. “We unicorns are typically born with our horns. Sure it grows alongside us as we grow up, but I’ve only seen one pony actually grow a horn in my lifetime.”

“Really?” Gemmy said, practically beam in intrigue. “Who was it?”

Open Heart scowled at my daughter, who seemed to instantly realize she already knew the answer to her own question. With a sheepish grin, she darted her eyes in the direction of the stream. She giggled in embarrassment as a hoof rubbed her withers.

“Right, sorry,” she said. Her ears, which had started to fall, perked right back up moments later. “Is it similar to Willow?”

“Highly doubt it. If she had an IMP infection the doctors back in Underside would have told us,” He said. “On one hoof, that keeps her out of the Goddess clutches. On the other, every moment I spend trying to think about it just makes me more pissed.”

“You do realize I’m standing right here,” I said, earning a glare from my doctor. I was more than used to his constant irritation that it didn’t bother me anymore. “Kind of rude to talk about a pony like she isn’t there.”

“I know that,” he stated, enthusiastically pointing at my forehead. “But that little nub on your head is currently all I can think about. I’m a doctor, not some spirit healer or whatever; very little about your physical health makes much sense to me.”

“Well, there is one thing you can be sure of,” Amaryllis said. “You're no longer the smallest one here.”

Hearty was ready to give the changeling some form of retort when he hesitated. He closed his mouth, tapped his hoof, and then looked at me. With his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth, he eyed my forehead with one eye close, as if looking for stray green hair in an otherwise black mane. When he was done, he allowed the tiniest of smiles on his face. It only stayed for a second before he started frowning.

“You know, that is probably the nicest thing you’ve said to me since we’ve met,” he replied. He followed it up with a shrug. “I’ll take it while I can. Nice to have a small, albeit temporary victory before it gets bigger than mine.”

I looked up in a futile attempt to see my own horn, gulping in nervousness. “It won’t hurt as bad from here on, right?”

“I don’t remember my horn aching too badly when it was growing,” Gemmy told me, “so I don’t think so. It was probably all the other things that hurt badly, and not just the horn itself.”

“While I certainly would not go to Gemini for medical advice, I agree with that,” Hearty said. “The soreness and aching is likely a result of the punctured skin and the fact you quite literally grew a new bone. It won’t completely go away, but as long as you don’t touch it, hit it against anything, or use magic…,” he stopped for a moment, tapping his chin and tilting his head. “Actually, does it hurt to use it?”

“Only one way to find out, right?”

“Y-yeah?” I answered hesitantly.

With a deep, nervous breath, I closed my eyes and tried to levitate a single grain of sand. To my surprise, nothing happened. The yellow and red aura I had come to know as mine did not appear, and not a single grain of sand was displaced. For a moment, I was confused as to why nothing seemed to happen. Then something hit me, more than a little terrifying to realize: the horn I was trying to use was Dead Hooves, not my own.

The unicorn hadn't completely merged into me! While worrying due to not knowing what other changes could possibly occur to me, it at least explained why channeling magic through her horn no longer worked. I could no longer think of it as somepony else's horn that I was just borrowing, it was truly mine. If my focus just changed to my own horn, then it would be no different than any time before.

The moment I realized that, my mind instantly rushed to the tiny little nub on the top of my head. In less than a second my magic aura appeared on it…

“Danse, that wasn’t an invitation to–“

“F-fuck!”

The pain that laced through my head the moment I tried to cast telekinesis nearly made me black out. It was more than enough to make the rest of my body collapse to the ground. Wrapping my forelegs right over it, inwardly begging for the pain to stop, I groaned. The throbbing in my horn had flared back up fiercely, easily some of the worst pain I had ever felt in my entire life. Didn’t matter that it faded nearly as quickly as it appeared, the damage was done.

“Mom?” Gemmy called. She had rushed her way over to me immediately, the sweet mare she was.

“I’m… not fine,” I said, trying to get back up on my hooves. “That felt worse than nearly dying.”

“Well, at least you’re now aware of how sensitive horns are,” Hearty replied. “As I was originally going to say, before my curiosity stoked your own, no magic for at least today. In general you will not want to bump it, touch it, or just generally aggravate it under any circumstance.”

I nodded, and then mumbled to myself, “Not too different from teats during puberty then. Great.”

Gemmy got a laugh out of that as well, having been close enough to hear my words. Whether it was due to the statement being accurate, inaccurate, or just overall a funny comparison. Her laugh made me smile, and the pain got just the slightest bit easier to bear. Even if the throbbing hadn’t completely gone away, that bit of relief was far better than nothing.

“This won’t keep us stationary at least,” Amaryllis spoke up as they and Falke walked a little closer to us. “Unless the doctor has some reason to state otherwise?”

“I was apprenticing back in my stable when mine started growing. Danse will be fine,” Hearty replied, giving me a smirk. “Besides, she’s a bit too stubborn for something like this to keep her down.”

“Damn right!” I said. Almost subconsciously, I nearly tapped my horn with a hoof yet again, catching myself the moment one of my forelegs left the ground. “Though not touching it is definitely going to be difficult.”

“That’s just because it’s new,” he said. “You’ll get used to it.”

Due to the aforementioned horn, Gemini’s workout was shortened drastically so that we would still have time to eat before heading out. My eyes constantly drifted up, trying and failing to catch the eye of the tiny bump on my head. Despite what Hearty said, the idea that I would get used to my new horn felt impossible. Next to Iron Anchor, it was probably the most distracting thing I had ever had in my life. The main difference, outside of one being the love of my life and an entirely different pony, was the fact it constantly reminded me it was there, taunting me just out of sight.

It wasn’t heavy, at least not yet, but the constant attempts at looking at it caused an ache in my neck. I knew it was there. Its weight and shape, while miniscule, was more than present enough for me. Add in the soreness constantly irradiating from it into the rest of my skull, and what everycreature had expected to be a normal day had been thoroughly trampled on. Not to say that, for all my problems with it, the new appendage wasn’t appreciated.

In fact, something about it being there, nagging me, annoying my every waking minute, was nice. Something about having a horn felt right, like I had always meant to have one. More than likely it was DH affecting me on some subconscious level, given she had been a unicorn. The idea of being mentally manipulated by whatever spell she cast was not fun, but it was a fact of my life now. No escaping or deny the truth before my eyes.

Besides, whether the feelings were born from mental manipulation or not, the horn was still nice to have. The thought of it growing longer, of feeling it’s weight, of being able to look in any mirror or river and know that it was mine, filled me with some form of pride. Did all unicorn’s feel this, or was it just a me thing? Never sought out an answer, but the question lingers in my head to this day.

Now if only I was the only one distracted by my horn.

It was painfully obvious that Amaryllis was, on some level, infatuated with me in the same way I seemed to like her. The difference in us lied in the fact that, while she had seemingly no problem with me, her zealotry for this ‘Messenger’ was about as big of a turn off as could be. They were the victim of a cult, the brainwashing was to be expected, but the fanatic reverence was almost scary at times. The preaching, the prayers throughout the day, the way they interjected the word ‘heretic’ and ‘sinner’ as if it was no different from the word ‘grounder.’ I couldn’t wait for the day we either snapped the changeling out of it or were free from them entirely.

Until then, I’d have to deal with their ogling and lust-filled compliments. Not that they weren't the only one of us doing the former, however. Amaryllis was still hot as fuck, and my brain couldn’t help itself.

Something about my horn though, it only seemed to fuel the changeling more than before. At some point during the day, seemingly at random, they specifically approached me. Their grin was cocky, eyes looking me up and down with desire like usual. With a heavy breath through my nostrils, I already knew the goal of Amaryllis’ was about to say.

“I got to say, sugar, it looks adorable on you,” they said, practically whispering the words into my ear. “I can only imagine what it will look like when fully grown, but I’m sure it will be strong and beautiful, just like you.”

The blush on my face was thankfully hidden by my coat color, not that it mattered. Amaryllis’ grin grew as their tongue flicked out to taste the emotions in the air. It was fascinating in a cute, yet also creepy, way. Somepony had to be really, really good at holding their emotions down for a changeling to not drink it. The idea of being read like a book might have terrified me, if their forked tongue quickly flicking out wasn’t adorable.

“You are just the cutest little thing,” they said, between amused chirping. “It’s one of the things I like about you, you know. You act big and strong, but inside you are just–“

“Please, stop,” I told the changeling, heavily embarrassed. There was no way the red on my face wasn't showing itself for everycreature to see. “This is not professional.”

“Professional? Sugar, we are currently in the middle of nowhere,” Amaryllis replied, my begging having only amusing them further. “No need to be the big, tough mare. Especially not for me.”

“It isn’t for you!” I said, snarling at them. “Perhaps I need to remind you of what my daughter currently thinks of you, before continuing.”

If the near animalistic sound of my voice didn’t scare them, mentioning my daughter definitely did. Amaryllis’ head instantly turned to Gemmy, who was happily prancing next to an extremely focused Falke, staring momentarily at the pony they knew was the biggest obstacle when it came to my approval. I smirked, the pride I felt at what Gemini did only grew greater at seeing the changeling’s perfect comprehension at what it meant.

It was also nice, in a way, to see them genuinely pause their teasing and flirting. At the very least, it meant Amaryllis wanted to prove themself to my daughter.

“I meant the apology,” the changeling states.

“Doesn’t matter if you meant it or not,” I said. “The timing, not to mention what you were using it for, might as well have made it fake.”

“The timing?” They asked. Sweet Celestia, as if the question itself wasn’t bad enough, there was genuine confusion on her face. “I didn’t think there was a wrong time to apologize.”

“You practically announced my daughter’s sexual abuse history to the rest of the room,” I replied, trying to not let the sparks of anger burst into an actual flame. “Did you say anything specific? No, but your words led to uncomfortable questions that she might not have ever wanted asked to her. Besides, given other ponies outside of you and her were present, what do you think was going to happen?”

Amaryllis seemed to think on it, their mandibles moving aimlessly as they closed their eyes to focus. When she opened them once more, they were locked on me, a noticeable regret visible in the way their eyelids hung.

“I can’t find fault in your words,” they said. “I have misjudged my actions and caused harm. As the Voice of the Messenger, such harm is not just a stain on myself, but on Her. I offer my deepest apologies to you and your daughter, Danse Macabre.”

Her words came with a subtle bow of her head, an odd humility fastened into it that almost felt wrong. I thought I had Amaryllis at least somewhat figured out, but watching them act like that had given me a different side to their zealotry. It was probably the first real sign that there was more to the changeling’s faith than calling those they didn’t like heretics. Not that it made any of the bad less problematic; they were still using ponies for slave labor, and Equalism was still very much a cult.

Still, knowing that Amaryllis had some modesty was better than nothing.

“It’s a start,” I said with a heavy sigh. “Don’t expect that to be enough, however.”

“Of course. Abuse is abuse after all,” they replied with a nod of their head. “Whatever happened to her, sugar, know that if I ever met the individual responsible, they would either see a life behind bars or a swift end.”

“As far as I know, the latter has already happened,” I quietly muttered to myself. They didn’t need to know those who had enslaved Gemmy and her mom were long dead by now.

I allowed some silence after that, giving both Amaryllis and myself some time to let each others words truly sink in. During that time I considered what little I knew about the Equalists, or how much I didn’t know to be exact. Given what Amaryllis had told us about our mission, knowing at least a little about the place she came from would be necessary.

“Is Amaryllis really the creature we should ask this?”

“Unless you see a better option, they’re all we got,” I explained to my inner selves. There was some strange sense of satisfaction at the back of my mind from the answer, which I took as meaning they had no problem with my reasoning. Clearing my throat, I raised my voice so that Amaryllis could hear me. “Well, since we’re already talking, I might as well ask you something.”

The changeling’s expression brightened immediately. They leaned into me, wings buzzing and mandibles clicking in excitement. It was so strange to see and yet so cute at the same time. So cute, so hot, it was impossible not to just lose myself in the look for some time.

“Well sugar, go on,” Amaryllis said with an innocent jab at my chest. “You can say that only to leave a ‘ling hanging.”

“R-r-right!” I said, shaking my head to try and clear my mind. It was only half effective; those eyes of theirs are just so beautiful! “Well, it isn’t the main question I was going to ask, but, um… why do you call me sugar?”

The double facehoof I felt in the back of my mind instantly made me aware of what I had just opened myself up to. Amaryllis was more than intelligent enough to see the avenue of attack I had unknowingly given them. They didn’t hide that, at all, their smile slowly turning from something simple into something bordering on insidious. Then, it grew sultry.

“Oh sugar, it’s simple,” they whispered into my ear. “Your love is delicious and sweet.”

“H-h-huh?”

“You didn’t know emotions have a taste, did you?” Amaryllis asks. I was too flustered to respond, not that Amaryllis’ chirps of amusement made it any easier. “Of course you didn’t. It’s okay, just know that being around you scratches my sweet tooth more than any solid food on the planet. Oh how I would love to become another of that love’s catalyst,” she suddenly leaned away, smiling proudly, “but we should wait till your daughter is a bit more comfortable with our love. I’ll just stick to teasing you for now. After all, I’m already spoiling myself just having you in my presence, twenty-four seven.”

I started bouncing on my hooves as if the surface below me was hot as magma, my face an entirely different shade of red than usual. Amaryllis knew how to tease me way to fucking well, it was both embarrassing and a little unnerving. Their chirping made me more than aware that they were pleased with the results, not to mention proud of it. At least they seemed to understand on some level that actively pursuing me was a no-go right now. Not that it eased my mind in any way.

“Not that you can deny enjoying it~”

“Shut!” I whispered. I took a deep breath in an attempt to bring myself under some amount of emotional control. As if that would save me from Amaryllis’ voice and sultry words. “S-so, the actual question I wanted to ask.”

“Ah, that is right,” the changeling said. “What was it you wanted to ask?”

“Well, while some of us have knowledge of the Equalists from an outside perspective, we don’t really know much about your home,” I explained. “So, as the only one here who has actually lived in Our Haven, I was wondering if you could tell me anything about home.”

Their wings fluttered in excitement, faces practically glowing. No surprise at all there; I had fully expected them to jump at this chance. With what little I know about them, they probably saw it as an attempt to sell me on Equalism. It fit in with how they seemed to view themself as this destined savior. They certainly were doing a good job fooling themself, especially since ‘saving’ Our Haven seemed to be the plan.

“Oh Danse, sugar, it would mean the world to be the thing that guides you into the messenger’s light,” Amaryllis said, basically confirming all of that.

“I didn’t say anything about that,” I replied. Amaryllis’ excitement died instantly, her mandibles drooping and a sad, chittering sound leaving her mouth. “I just mean I want to know your culture and how to blend in. We’ll have to know it once we get to Our Haven, after all, so we aren’t found out as heretics.”

“I… of course,” Amaryllis said along with more sad chitters. They did their best to keep it out of their voice, but the sorrow in their eyes was impossible to rub out. “Apologies. I’m not exactly used to this.”

I blinked, then tilted my head. “Not used to what?”

“Talking informally,” they answered. “My queen, no, my former queen did not birth me as a simple drone like my brothers and sisters. I was raised to be an Arm of the Messenger, my life in service to Her and nothing more. More specifically however, I was one of several candidates meant to become the next queen of the hive.”

“A… queen?” I asked.

“That is what I said, right?” They asked back, rhetorically. “I was raised to hopefully succeed her, my queen, my mom. Then, a show of compassion to a group of poor, starved drones makes me this and she… she…”

There was an angry, almost violent buzz in their wings, one they attempted to quell not too long after it appeared. The changeling princess tried to focus on their breathing, something clear hard given the fact their wing’s continued to periodically buzz in agitation. My ears fell halfway, and Amaryllis earned a drop of my sympathy. Enough for them to taste, apparently.

“I fear that I’m not that familiar with standard conversation outside of my faith and love.” they said. “Saxophone was one of the only things I had that could really be considered a hobby. Even then, learning it wasn’t exactly out of choice. A friend, another Arm of the Messenger, introduced me to it.”

“I, uh, see,” I replied. Half of what they said made no sense to me, but that did give me room to ask questions. “Let's start off with these Arms of the Messenger you mentioned.”

“Ah, that’s easy to explain.” Amaryllis’ muzzle turned upwards, a prideful smile on her face. “We are pastors, priests, delivering the beliefs of the Messenger to Her faithful. We also officiate weddings on Union days.”

“Officiate?” I asked, my brow rising in surprise. “You have weddings?”

“I know, quite the contrast to the rest of this damned continent, isn’t it?” they rhetorically asked back. “My hive didn’t have them until the Messenger and Her followers arrived at our home. It’s one of the many ways Her teachings have affected us, and one of the many pieces of pony culture that we have adopted.”

“Got to say, I wasn't expecting that. Not that I’m entirely sure what I should have expected to begin with,” I replied. To the best of my ability, I smacked myself with one of my wings, inwardly scolding myself. “Fucking Enclave.”

Amaryllis tilted their head towards me. “I’m not quite sure why you are cursing out your birthplace.”

“I spent most of my life believing myself to be better, thinking everyone down here is some barbarian or scum of the earth. I know better now obviously but,” I shook my head, scowling, “some things take a bit longer to change, I guess. When I asked you about Equalist society I expected Our Haven or your hive to be alien.”

“My mention of pheromones being used to give orders did not help, did it?” the changeling asked. After a second of hesitation, I nodded my head. They dropped their head, a solemn look on their face. “You come from a dark place that had long corrupted you with sick, twisted thoughts and beliefs. Those are not easy to free yourself from, and even harder to not fall back into. Their persistence in your head is understandable, even if the Messenger is hurt to hear them. Continue on your path, unnatural soul, and in time freedom from those thoughts will become true.”

The sudden shift in tone of the prideful, lusty changeling was nearly enough to make me stumble on my own hooves. My brain had trouble thinking about the fact that this was the same changeling that had earlier been teasing me about the taste of my love. It made their claims of being a priest believable. It actually sounded like advice someone like them would offer when in a confessionary. Not that I had any experience to relate it to.

There were no churches in Aery. Enclave gave less of a shit about that than the surface. What few did exist were around from before the end of the old world, and those who visited it were miniscule and were never given materials to make necessary repairs. All of that went to the military, research and development, or medical.

“Aw, have I left you speechless sugar?” Amaryllis teased.

I was not aware that I had been staring at them until that point, and to say the realization made me red in the face would be correct. Yet another mental facehoof from my inner selves made me cringe a little at how helpless I was to such things. Anchor would be so disappointed if he saw any of this.

I’m sorry, my love. I technically already cheated on you once with Willow, and at that moment I considered doing it again. The only thing that kept me from it was not you, but Gemini.

“You really were a priest, weren’t you?” I asked in an attempt to dodge Amaryllis' question.

“It seemed obvious to me, but I guess to a godless, heretic filled world like the one you come from it might not be,” they said. The insensitive, if somewhat correct, nature of their words were more than enough to banish the worst of my own desire. “I believe we have spent enough time talking about Her Hooves, though. Let us move onto other things.”

The rest of the day was slow, even with the consistent topic of conversation. Not a whole lot to do outside of that when all you have is a stream, rocks, and acres upon acres of sand around you. Couldn’t even fly, again, due to the sensitivity of my new horn. What little excitement occurred was born from settling down for the evening, and it was nothing compared to the emotional last few days in Underside.

I finally gave the Trench Buster a bit of attention. Falke helped me out with learning how to care for a material weapon. The thing had already gotten a decent amount of sand inside of it over the course of the last few days, and it made me aware that the Novasurge was going to need similar treatment. Frustrating, even if rather expected for the environment.

My dreams were also not worth mentioning, outside of the fact that they followed the same pattern as the one from the previous night. Same blurry vision, same hunger, though this time my body felt far more absent then it did before. It was also a lot less pleasant, though I was not entirely sure about it. Maybe it was just how hungry I seemed to be in it; it felt like I was on the verge of death, that it was possible if I didn’t eat something in a minute I could die.

Then the sun rose, our fourth day out in the middle of what seemed to be nowhere. That wasn’t true, however. Open Heart and I both knew we were less than a day’s walk from Shorelock thanks to our PipBuck and MentaBuck. The more we would walk, the less ‘middle of nowhere’ we would be. Before we were able to get moving though, two things got in the way. The first one being my horn.

It had grown noticeably while I was asleep, though it still did not come close to the smallest of the horns in our group. Hearty practically demanded that he check it every day, just to make sure nothing about it caused a risk to my physical well being. It was, thank the princesses, and it also didn’t ache as much the day before. Not to say that it wasn’t itchy or aggravating, or that I was allowed to start casting spells once again, but it was an improvement.

“The sensitivity is likely just a result of the new nerves in your body getting used to existing… probably,” Hearty said. I frowned at him. “Need I remind you what I said yesterday? You growing a horn is not normal. You aren’t some IMP victim like Will– the goddess’ alicorn’s are. Everything right now is just theory and hypothesis.”

“Well, doctor,” I replied. “If that is the case, would you have a hypothesis about its existence?”

Hearty shrugged. “About as much of one as anypony else. We know it’s a result of your merging with Dead Hooves, and honestly none of us know if you two are done merging. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say this is the final thing that hasn’t become one yet.”

“Well, that and…”

My inner selves didn’t need to finish that. The thought scared them as much as it did me but… it was entirely possible. They certainly had been getting quieter and quieter since I woke up.

“The only one that would likely know is a zebra shaman, and even then I’m not sure if they’d have ever seen a case like you before,” Hearty said. “Well, them or this Vigil griffon you met.”

“Vigil is as clueless as the rest of us,” I replied. A sigh left my muzzle as terrifying truth set in. “There’s… no telling when this is going to stop, is there?”

“No, not really,” Hearty said. He stomped the ground in anger, and then brought that same hoof to his face. “I’m sorry Danse.”

“There was nothing you could do to stop it,” I told him, placing a wing on his withers. “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

He forced a smile, as fake as it was obvious. It’s impossible to gauge exactly where his pain came from, outside of knowing Willow was the main cause. He continually assured me that I was not one of the Goddess’, as if I needed much more confirmation than my own magenta coat. Hearty would never admit though that he was scared of losing ponies, at least in a straightforward manner. Stallion was stubborn to a fault, a quality I used to hate that now was one of his best.

There were other pieces to it, though. At least I thought there was more to it than just Willow Wisp’s departure from our lives. There was the Dealer lurking over him in a manner far less friendly than Vigil was to me, and his status as one of the wasteland's few true medical professionals. There was the guilt at killing Dead Hooves all those years ago; did he think about that now, whenever he looked at me? So many different variables, all likely responsible to some basic extent, but what if one was a bigger influence than any of the others?

Just how much did he fear me dying?

“Well, your horn looks good, nothing to be concerned about,” he said, forcing a change in the subject. “Which means the only thing stopping us from getting moving now is Gemini.”

At the mention of my daughter, my eyes looked towards the second thing keeping us in place. It was only a matter of time until her new morning workouts made her feel sore and stiff, and that time had finally come. She was currently on her back, groaning in discomfort. With a roll of my eyes, I trotted my way up to her and stared down with a knowing smile.

“You good sweetie?” I asked her, already knowing well what the answer would be.

“Everything hurts,” she foalishly whined. “My legs are like water. I don’t like it.”

“None of us do, Gemmy,” I told her, lying down and trying to keep my amusement at reasonable levels. “It’s part of getting stronger though.”

“I’ve felt this sore before,” Gemmy said, looking up at me with watery eyes. “I don’t like being sore.”

I winced, able to understand immediately what she was getting at. I did my best to keep smiling despite it all, tapping her on the shoulder.

“Being sore is a part of life, Gemini. It’s one of the many things we can’t take out of it,” I explained to her. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear, as she tried to curl her head into her neck. “It will get better, though.”

Her head instantly turned back to me, ears twitching in intrigue. “It will?”

“Yes, as long as you keep on exercising,” I replied. She seemed slightly less enthused after that. “I know it isn’t the answer anypony wants, but it is the truth. The more you exercise, the stronger you will get, and the less you will get sore. Even when you do, it won’t bother you as much.”

“Was it that way for you?” she asked. I gave her a nod, and she rolled from her back onto her stomach. “Okay. If it helps me not feel sore anymore I’ll continue doing it.”

“Then get up, it’s time for us to start,” I said. Gemmy’s jaw dropped, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes again. “You get a day off tomorrow, since we will be in Shorelock. Now come on, we’re going back walking anyway so there is no reason not to. Same routine as always.”

While she wasn’t thrilled, Gemini did as she was told. Getting up onto her hooves, she started the workout regime that we had decided on days earlier, though altered given both the heat and her own capabilities. I watched her all the while, correcting her posture when needed to or otherwise. She would whine about it, but that was to be expected from somepony who wasn’t used to this or had a drill sergeant ready to chew them out at a moment’s notice.

“You are kind, but not lenient,” Falke said at some point. Wasn’t entirely sure when he had made his way next to me, but the older griffon seemed intrigued by how I handled Gemini’s training. “You remind me of my own mom and dad, though maybe not as kind. Pushed me through the ringer when I was younger.”

“As was I, though young for you and young for me are probably a bit different,” I replied. “Didn’t start working out till I joined the Enclave. Was more concerned with other things before that point.”

“What age can you join the Enclave military?” Falke asked.

“Eighteen.”

“Ah, so that didn’t change.”

“Was it the same back before the Last Day?”

“Apparently.”

“Huh, guess you are right then.” My focus temporarily turned away from my daughter, my front left hoof tapping the sandy ground beneath us. “How much never did?”

Falke’s head turned to me. “What do you mean?”

“The Enclave, my home. We were raised to believe that what we have up there is better than anything that ever was down here,” I explained, scrunching my muzzle up in thought. “I’m already aware that things, while maybe not great down here, are not what I was led to believe. I can’t help but wonder, however, how much of the Enclave is like the Equestria that existed when the world ended.”

Falke looked back to Gemmy, tilting his head left and right in deep thought himself. Just like my forehoof, one of his talons was now tapping the ground. Nothing came to me, and it seemed pretty clear nothing came to him. We both sighed near simultaneously, and I sat down as I realized the near impossibility of the answer.

“We’ll never truly know, will we?” I asked him. “We can hear stories from creatures, view memory orbs, Gemmy and I can talk to all the ghosts we want, but we will never know how true it is.”

“Yep,” the old griffon replied. “Propaganda, homely bias, stories being twisted due to age and misunderstanding to the point the truth no longer exists.”

“It sucks, but it’s a fact of life,” I mumbled, scrunching my muzzle even further in frustration. Knowing that train of thought was going to go nowhere, I turned my attention back to Gemmy. “They’re push-ups, not half-ups. Chest to the ground!”

“I’m trying!” Gemmy said in her own mixture of irritation and determination.

She might not be as excited about it anymore as she was on that first day, but she was still giving up. A smug, proud grin wormed its way onto my face the more I watched her. There was strength in there she wasn’t aware she had, or too afraid to let thrive. Hopefully, within a few weeks, this would help her feel more comfortable with letting it out for all of us to see.

There it was. Several days of traveling, and Shorelock was visible for us to see.

It immediately set itself apart from Underside from having no walls surrounding it, or most of it anyways. Anyone could walk in or out just fine without a single worry. This was Southern San Palomino’s ‘capital’, for lack of a better term, right? A part of me figured that it would be even more fortified than somewhere like Underside. At first I thought it was due to a lack of resources, but not only did that not make sense due to them clearly finding some to build a wall, but the real reason was exceptionally obvious.

Why would the Shattered Moon need a wall when they have a fortress watching over the entire city?

Standing out like a pine tree in the very desert I stood in was Shorelock Prison, a beast of a building able to rival that of Trotson M.A.S. hub. It was fenced and guarded like a building of its nature usual would, but with more firearms than usual. Prison guards above the clouds (yes, we don’t throw everything we don’t like down to the surface) were not allowed guns. Batons were all the military allowed them, and it seemed to work effectively enough. The Shattered Moon seemed to think the same.

“I see you’ve noticed the hellhound in the room,” Amaryllis said, having changed into their earth pony disguise the moment the city was within eyesight. Their eyes ran all over the prison, practically violating it with them. “That is why I’m here?”

“The prison?” I asked. When they nodded, I briefly looked back to the building in question, and then to the changeling when I was finished. “I thought we were asking Lady Hesh for the Shattered Moon’s aide.”

“We are,” Amaryllis replied. “You don’t think they actually use that for its original purpose do you?”

Just like that, any assumption I had made about Shorelock Prison had evaporated. This prisoner was their headquarters, their ‘seat of government’ for lack of a better word. That alone made the building go from ominous to intimidating, as it almost felt like the building had eyes of its own, watching everything in Shorelock like an unforgiving guardian. One wrong move from anypony, and you’d end up in there for what it was originally made for, and not what it had become.

“From what I know, they purposefully got caught in order to be sent here,” Falke explained. “It was the most secure prison on the west coast, and with everything they got up to before the end of the world? Nowhere else they would be sent. Since Shorelock wasn’t a megaspell target, it was the perfect place to hide away while the world ended.”

“And when it did, and everypony realized it, their message of unity and acceptance would be approached a lot more willingly,” I said. The conclusion wasn’t too hard to draw, especially considering what I’ve seen and heard about the Shattered Moon so far. “Must have been a heck of a break out when the megapsells dropped.”

“W-w-wait,” Gemini said, looking between Falke, Amaryllis, and myself with clear fear, “w-we’re going in there?”

“That seems to be the plan, unless the bug has something else they want to do first,” Hearty answered.

Amaryllis shook her head. “They already know I’m coming. No reason to wait, especially when Lady Hash is expecting us.”

Thus, after asking a local for directions to the prison’s entrance, we made our way there. I spent that time familiarizing myself with everything in Shorelock not our destination. Anypony could see where post-last day architecture ended and pre-last day architecture began. Streets made for walking turned into those made for auto-carriages, the former far better maintained then the latter. There were areas where old world asphalt roads had been completely replaced with the brick that not just the streets, but many of the newer houses and buildings were made of as well.

There was no need to guess where they got the clay to make it, not with the stream we had followed here and the ocean.

Sweet Celestia, I was not prepared for the smell of the ocean. The salty smell of the air was unlike anything I had ever smelled before, making my nostrils and mouth feel dry from them alone. Couldn’t hear or see the waves –we weren’t heading near the harbor after all – but it wasn’t hard to imagine how horrible the water must actually taste if it filled the air like this!

“Pray to Celestia we never have to find out.”

In time we reached the gate leading into the prison, a rather bored yet attentive Shattered Moon sitting in a booth. He saw us at the same time we saw him, and any sense of lazing around disappeared in a snap. Gun at rest, he watched us approach him. Amaryllis took the lead, given they were the one with the actual invitation inside. That also meant there was the possibility that the rest of us would been forced to wait outside.

“Good day ma’ams, sirs,” the Shattered Moon said.

“Hello there,” Amaryllis said. The seductive undertone in their voice was a lot more lowkey in those first two words, but it was present. “The name is Amaryllis Bloom, and I’m here to see Lady Hash. She should be aware of my arrival.”

Instead of response, the Shattered Moon turned to his radio and spoke into it. “One, this is Three-Eleven, you read me? I have a stallion here, whose name is Amaryllis Bloom, who says they have a meeting with the boss. Appearance… earth pony, stallion, purple coat, yellow mane.”

He absentmindedly nodded along, letting out affirmative humming every once in a while. After a jumble of sounds that was probably some equivalent of a ‘sir, yes sir’ his hoof fell off the radio. His attention shifted from the disguised changeling to us.

“Mister Bloom, are they with you?” He asked.

“They are my bodyguards, so yes,” Amaryllis replied, sensually smiling at us all.

“Understood,” Three-Eleven said. “I’m sure you all know the drill. No weapons within Shattered Moon premises, you leave them with me.”

“I’m surprised you allowed us to bring them into Shorelock to begin with,” Hearty said.

“This is Lady Hash’s home,” One-Eleven replied. “You’d have to be stupid to try anything with her around.”

“You know, this is the second time in less than a week we’ve walked into one of their bases, blindfolded, to meet somepony we don’t know.”

At least this time I was more than aware of who that somepony actually was.

All of us, including Amaryllis, were currently blind as we were guided through the prison. It had happened enough now where it was less disorienting and moreso just a nuisance, never quite sure if my next step was going to accidentally brush up against one of the multiple creatures around us. If anything I felt anxious, because knowing who we were about to meet just made the possibility of things going wrong a thousand times worse.

“Will she be nice? Authoritarian? With the Equalists it's easy to imagine what their leader is like but the Shattered Moon are hard to read. That’s the point though, isn’t it?”

My inner selves couldn’t help but theorize about Lady Hash, and it only made that anxiety worse. There wasn’t much I could say to them without making myself look insane to everycreature around me. The prison halls were deadly quiet, or at least the areas we were being led through were. Every once and a while we’d catch whispered conversation, the clip clop of hooves, and a bunch of other miscellaneous sounds whose sources were outside my ability to guess. Didn’t matter what it was, they were all off putting when you had no idea where you were and where you were going.

Yet like each time I had done this before, there was a point where the curtains were lifted. One final door closed behind us, and we were no longer moving. For five seconds nothing happened, but then a collection of hooves hit my ears. Someone had stepped forward, and in response something squeaked, likely rusted metal.

“I assume these are our visitors, Twenty,” a voice said. It had that same rough, damaged sound to it that Hearty’s did. The kind of voice synonymous with being a ghoul, but in this case feminine and older.

“Yes, Lady Hash,” a Shattered Moon said, this Twenty Lady Has mentioned if I were to hazard a guess.

“Take the blindfolds off. If what their leading stallion said is true, then it is best we do this face to face,” Lady Hash ordered. Even with the ghoulification of her voice, it was impossible to not hear the militaristic tone that was carried through each word.

“A-Are you sure?” Twenty asked. The concern alone showed how much these creatures care for their leader.

“That was an order Twenty. Remove the blindfolds.”

Not even a second later I found my eyes no longer bound. The first thing that caught all of our eyes was the four individuals watching the five of us, guns at rest but ready in case anything happened. There was an uneasiness to the way they watched us, as if they weren’t entirely sure how to gauge this situation. Visiting Lady Hash must have been a rare occurrence.

The second thing I noticed was the room we were in. We were in an office room, the warden’s office if I were to take a guess. Well preserved books laid on shelving on the wall to my left, some form of reward from the original warden still hanging on the wall next to them. The right was bare save for a single picture. It had on it three ponies, though only the front two were really visible. It was a military wedding between an unicorn and a pegasi, one I instantly recognized thanks to her artificial right foreleg.

Lightning Dust, the founder of Shattered Moon. As for the unicorn she was happily standing next to in the picture?

Her ghoul was right before us all, sitting at a desk, a tired, judging look in those light blue eyes of hers. She was the only one besides the five of us to not have their face hidden. Before me was a mare with a dark purple coat, a patchy maroon mane on her head, and a horn. A broken horn, to be exact, a sight that made Hearty, Gemmy, and myself cringe slightly. If growing one had been uncomfortable, I can only imagine what it would feel like.

“I assume you are Amaryllis Bloom,” she said, her eyes on the disguised changeling. Amaryllis nodded. “I know what you are. Undisguise, then we can talk.”

Amaryllis smirked, and in a rupture of green flames a really hot stallion was replaced with an equally hot changeling. The mare didn’t react at all, save for a rather slow blink and a heavy breath out.

“Lady Hash, I assume?” Amaryllis asked.

“Correct, and you,” Lady Hash said, leaning forward. The guards suddenly snapped their guns up, Gemmy letting out a scared gasp as one was pointed at everypony save herself, “know far too much.”

Author's Note

Am starting to work on other writing things as well, just so I don't completely burn myself out on this since I've been working on it for about a year and a half now. Chapter releases might become slightly slower, but it should be too bad for you all.

Figured it was just good to warn you all, that's all!