‘Rise and Shine, Flash Sentry.’
Flash blinked himself into groggy wakefulness, which was the first sign that something was terribly wrong. Guards didn't make it through Basic Training without acquiring the ability to go from dead asleep to standing at attention in a moment's notice. He hadn't had this much trouble waking up since before he enlisted. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, thoughts coming slow despite the surge of panicked adrenaline coursing through his system.
He swallowed thickly and forcibly reined his thoughts into line. Step one was to assess the situation.
It was too dark to see, but he could still assess himself. He didn't feel drugged, beaten, bespelled, or bloody, but that only ruled out the worst case scenarios. His body felt fine, if stiff and sore, his wings nearly numb with pins and needles. And he was hungry. Ravenously so. His stomach roiled inside him like a rabid beast, growling like it hadn't been fed in days. How long had he been out of it?
A fragment of memory trickled in from... the night before?
***
'I'm telling youse guys, this is the best place to eat this side of Bridleway. I've been coming here since before I could walk.'
'I don't know, Trick Shot. It's not listed in the guidebook.'
'Guidebook? Crazy, who gave you that trash? Don't trust that tourist bait. Trust a local. Trust your squadmate. We keep the best places outta those books for a reason.'
"They had food back at the bar...'
'Ma va'! Kite, you poor neglected soul. That wasn't food. That was deep fried thirst enhancers. I'm taking you to get real food. Proper Manehattan 'za. Besides, ain't you had enough to drink already?'
'Heh. Four ciders is nothing. I can keep this celebration going all night. I'm more worried about Little Miss Three Long Islands over there...'
'Hey! I... am fin. Fone. Fine. I'm fine. Totally sober.'
'Oh? Then why're you leaning on Flash like he's the only shelter in a hard wind?"
'...Only cause the ground keeps moving... and his fur's so soft. Like little duckling feathers."
'All the more reason to doubletime, ey? She'll be less drunk on a full stomach.'
'But we're still doing karaoke after, right? You all promised we'd do karaoke the next time we got a weekend pass.'
'If Lapis is still up for it, Crazy. It's her party."
'Woo~ Kar-oh-ke~!'
'Sounds like a yes to me~!'
'Trick, are you sure this place is even open? It's after midnight.'
'Flash, mi amico, Margarita's is always open for me. I'm her favorite nephew. Ok, andiamo! To 'za and glory!'
***
Tension bled from his battle-ready posture as the memories clued him in on what was probably happening. "Trick?" he called into the darkness, "is this another one of your pranks?"
Only silence answered him. He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Look, I'm sorry if I overdid it on the cider and you had to carry me back to the hotel.”
Again, nothing. But that wasn't surprising. Trick Shot could get creative when he was feeling vindictive, and he hated spoiling his pranks early. No doubt there was some kind of embarrassing surprise hidden in the darkness. Maybe he'd find his coat and mane dyed to match Princess Cadence's. Maybe the light would reveal a dirt-cheap hotel room, a sleeping griffon, and a pair of expensive-looking wedding rings.
Probably not. Trick didn't like repeating himself.
'Whatever he's got planned, I might as well go along with his script and get it over with.'
"Can you at least turn on the light so we can talk like adults?"
There was a click, and Flash winced and shielded his eyes as the room was flooded with a blinding light.
He squinted, blinking rapidly as the light swiftly dialed back to just dim enough to see by. As his stinging eyes adjusted, an icy dread began to creep up his spine.
It was no cheap hotel room. No public park. Not even the local drunk tank.
It was a prison cell, torn straight from the Canterlot dungeon blueprints.
Grey concrete walls, bare but for a few dingy metal fixtures. A single bulb set in the ceiling, now just barely bright enough to squint by. A hanging curtain was spread to obscure the far wall: crushed red velvet, more appropriate for a theater than a cell. It looked dusty and worn, but still thick enough to block any sound or light from the other side.
He hopped to his hooves, unexpectedly accompanied by the sound of clinking metal. A sudden tug on his back leg revealed the culprit: a length of chain running from the wall to a steel cuff just above his hock.
"What the—'' He backed off, but tripped as the chain pulled taut and yanked him off his hooves. His wings flared out of reflex, but a sudden stabbing pain at their base made him abort the movement. He landed hard on his side, the concrete unyielding.
He groaned, his shoulder throbbing from the impact, and stood back up, more mindful of his tether. He tenderly lifted a wing, pulling back just before the pain hit again, but it was enough to spot a slate-grey clamp around each wing's base.
'Maudite. Magic-blocking cuffs,' a rational part of his mind informed unhelpfully. 'Old Canterlot Guard issue. Outlawed in 977 after public protest over permanent magical damage from long term wear.'
Even if he weren't trapped in a stone box, he wasn't going to be flying any time soon.
Whatever part of him had still held out hope that this was some kind of hazing or practical joke cracked and shattered. Trick Shot—lover of raunchy gags and public embarrassment—would never do something like this.
Whoever had abducted him and left him like this no doubt had far more nefarious intentions.
His breathing started to pick up, quick and shuddery breaths that didn't deliver nearly enough air. The light seemed to dim as the world, small as it was, contracted further. He couldn't focus, couldn't think. His muscles tensed and untensed as his ancestral fight-or-flight response failed to reach a decision and left his body twitching with fruitless adrenaline.
'Get it together!' he scolded himself, 'Remember your training. A Guard masters his fear. He faces into the dark so other ponies don't have to.'
With sheer force of will he pushed through the fear that threatened to overwhelm his mind, thanking the stars for former-Captain Shining Armor and his post-wedding insistence that all Guards and Cadets receive a mandatory crash course on "what to do when you're captured by the enemy".
Though from his first impression of the situation, this didn't feel like a "name, rank, and serial number" type of abduction.
Another flicker of memory, half forgotten in his panic. Just as he'd woken up, somepony had spoken, hadn't they?
He took a deep breath. What he needed was information, even if it meant negotiating with an enemy.
"Show yourself!" he yelled at the curtain, the only place a pony could conceivably hide. "I know you're there! Illegally detaining and restraining a Guard is a Class Two felony!"
His demand was met with silence. Painfully pure silence. He couldn't even hear the faintest brush of wind or distant sound of hooves. Nothing but his only heartbeat pulsing in his ears like a marching drum.
At some unseen signal, the curtains parted.
Behind them was a second curtain... and a doll.
Flash didn't know much about dolls, but even he recognized this one. Velvet coat with painted porcelain hooves and face. They'd been the hottest item last Hearth's Warming, and Kite had spent days retelling the story of how he'd fought horn and hoof through a crowd to get one for his daughter, and weeks more sharing photos of her loving it to bits.
This one didn't look nearly so well cared for. The fabric fur was worn and matted, its mane in messy disarray. Worst was its face. The porcelain was cracked along the jaw, like someone had tried to force its painted mouth open. The result had turned the demure smile into a face-splitting grin of jagged ceramic teeth.
‘Flash Sentry.’
Flash jolted and reached for a weapon he didn't have. Its jaw didn't move but the voice definitely came from the doll.
‘You're probably wondering where you are.’
Its voice was like the grinding cogs of a rusty machine. Low and guttural, with a distorted growl that could only come from a vocal modulator. He couldn't tell if they were young or old, mare or stallion.
"Who are you?!" he demanded.
‘But that's not the question you should be asking. The question you should be asking... is 'why?' What choices in your life have led you to being chained in a cell further underground than most pegasi ever venture?’
Even if nothing had actually changed, the knowledge that he was deep underground forced an oppressive weight on his throat. Few pegasi dealt well with confined space, and he was no exception. He swallowed hard. "I—I asked you a question! Who are you?"
‘As the only child of a minor noble family,’ the doll continued over his shouted questions, ‘You have been afforded luxuries many others have not. A stable childhood. A top tier education. Even a cushy posting thanks to your father's connections in the Guard administration.’
Flash's next question caught in his throat. That... wasn't true. He'd advanced on his own merits. 'Didn't I?'
The doll continued in that same emotionless tone. ‘But even then you weren't content. Weren't satisfied with what you had. You let that greed fester within you until you dared to grasp for something beyond your reach. You sought the forbidden fruit and committed the ultimate sin.’
It paused, the sudden pressing silence making the hairs rise on the back of Flash's neck.
‘But we'll get back to that in time. I'm sure you're hungry, so I've prepared a little something for you.’
He flinched at the sound of grinding stone, and a box tied with a box dropped from the ceiling. The hole closed with a second grind before he could get a good look at it.
‘Go ahead. Open it.’
Grasping the ribbon, Flash pulled and the sides folded outward, revealing a tray of a dozen cupcakes. The smell hit him like a tidal wave—boysenberry, his favorite—and the gnawing hunger in his belly surged in response.
They were perfect. Golden brown, drizzled with iridescent icing that shifted through the colors of the rainbow as the light caught it, and still steaming fresh.
‘I assure you, they're perfectly safe.’ Not that that convinced him of anything. ‘Made with fair trade ingredients and baked with love. If I wanted to poison you, you and your friends would never have walked out of that pizzeria on the corner of 34th and Maredison.’
The blood froze in his veins as his captor's casual comment reminded him of something gravely important he'd been forgetting: he was not the only one in danger.
"My squad!" The chain bit into his leg as he threw himself at the doll, righteous fury burning in his eyes. "What have you done with them?!"
‘I suggest you eat up. You'll need your strength for the trial to come.’
"Don't ignore me!" He futilely tore at his restraints, heedless of the pain to his leg and wings. "Kite Shield!" he yelled, "Crazy Lace! Trick Shot! Lapis! Can you hear me!?" The only response was the deadened echo of his own voice. He turned his attention back to the doll, a snarl on his lips as anger burned away his fear. "I swear, if you've hurt them, not even the princesses are going to be able to protect you from what I'll do to you!"
The doll said nothing more, as dead and lifeless as any other toy.
Flash raged for hours. Time was meaningless in an unchanging cell. He screamed until his voice rubbed raw, calling out to his squad, to any potential rescuers, spitting curses and threats at his captor, all for naught but realization that he'd been listening to a recording crystal.
When the screaming became too much and his anger burned out into smoldering impotence, he gathered up his chain and sequestered himself as far away from the doll as the room allowed.
The cupcakes, of course, he ignored. He refused to play this madpony's game.
As minutes turned to hours turned to unfathomable stretches of time, Flash slowly learned that deprivation was its own form of torture. While standing guard for hours on end, he could at least watch the ponies that passed by or observe the world around him. His cell was an empty canvas, leaving nothing to focus on but the tantalizing smell of the cupcakes, his painfully growing hunger, and the noxious cloud of anger, worry, and fear that filled his mind with unanswerable questions.
Who had kidnapped him and why? The doll had mentioned greed and sin, but he hadn't the faintest idea what they meant. The only changes to his routine at all in the past weeks had been a brief visit to the Empire from Princess Twilight Sparkle. But he'd barely even spoken two words to her.
Were his friends alright? Had they been hurt when he'd been taken? Kite Shield was best in close quarters combat, and Crazy and Trick were no slouches, but Lapis' magic still failed sometimes when she got emotionally overwhelmed. Were they being held nearby, wondering the same things as him, or were they free and mounting a rescue even as he worried?
Could he trust his captor that the cupcakes were safe? The treats were suspicious as Tartarus, but they had a point that there were less elaborate ways to kill him if that was their goal. And their ominous final threat of a 'trial to come' still loomed over him.
As hunger sapped his strength and his focus, Flash turned his thoughts inward and galvanized his will.
He chose to focus on the thought that, in a way, this was exactly why he joined the Guard in the first place. Not to stop thousand-year-old monsters and nation-threatening villains jacked up on evil artefacts: that was a job for Heroes and Princesses. He'd joined to save ponies from the threats that flew under the radar. Threats like nutjobs that kidnapped ponies off the street to play sick games with them. Psychos that made good, honest ponies afraid to leave their homes. This was the kind of evil he'd joined to help stop; the ones that looked like everypony else.
But as much as he tried to bolster himself with that rationalization, it was hard to square up that conviction when he was the captive in need of rescue instead of the daring saviour.
But he could still win.
He just had to not play their game.
Flash held out for... too long after he lost track of time. Long enough to sleep twice. Every moment was a battle fought against himself: the base instincts of his hunger demanding he eat despite the arguments of his training and logic insisting he hold fast. Eventually he conceded to the tiniest nibble of one, just to test for any obvious poisons or potions.
The crumb was euphoric. The most delicious things he'd ever tasted.
He devoured the rest before he could stop himself; primal instinct overwhelming rational thought in a savage display of feral hunger.
‘I hope you enjoyed that.’
Flash snapped out of his ravenous state and tried to compose himself. There was a different quality to the voice this time. A twinge more emotional inflection.
"I assume I'm talking to the real pony behind the doll this time?"
‘That is correct.’
"Good," he said, his voice taut as a steel wire. He'd been waiting for this moment. "I want to know three things: what have you done with my friends, what do you want with me, and how do you possibly think you're going to get away with this?"
‘...Oh Flash,’ the doll replied with a grating note of actual pity, ‘You're still asking all the wrong questions. I told you from the start you needed to be asking—’
"'Why'. Yeah, I remember," he snapped. "'What did I do to end up here.' Well I've had a long time to think about it and I've got my answer."
‘Is that so?’ the doll asked, ‘That is a surprise. Are you prepared, then, to reclaim your life and free yourself from your vices?’
Flash lifted his head and stood as tall and proud as he had on the day he'd graduated Cadet School. "No. Because I've done nothing wrong! I've lived a good and upstanding life! I've upheld my honor and the Guard Code! I don't know what kind of 'sinful greed' you’ve imagined I've committed, but I am innocent!"
‘Liar!’ the doll hissed, vitriol cutting through the monotone. ‘You know what you've done!’
"No, I don't!" he countered. He'd pick apart their delusions and falsehoods one at a time if he had to!
‘Yes! You! Do!’ it spat, all the more unsettling for the doll's complete immobility. ‘You committed the worst crime! The ultimate sin! You tried to seduce Twilight Sparkle away from me!’
For a moment, Flash's thoughts jerked and stumbled, like a record player skipping. In his hours alone, he'd prepared dozens of arguments against any kind of accusation, from the plausible to the laughable, that might be leveled against him. But this was so absurd, so completely out of left field that he had no rebuttal prepared whatsoever, leaving him completely flat-footed.
"I... what?" he managed after a moment. "The new princess? I barely even met Twi—"
‘You keep her name out of your mouth!’ the doll snapped. Something thumped above him, beyond the ceiling, and made the light flicker. ‘And don't try to hide your crimes from me. I heard all about it straight from the pony's mouth! Two meet cutes? Playing backing guitar for her Heartsong? Accepting a hug? Dancing all night long at a party?!’
‘I never did any of that.’ Flash racked his memory, but he definitely only met the princess for a few seconds. Either his captor was even crazier than he thought... or they'd kidnapped the wrong pony. "I think there's been some kind of mistake. I have a marefriend."
"DON'T YOU DARE CALL HER THAT!" The doll screamed so loudly it nearly overpowered the voice modulator and let him hear a few syllables of the true voice behind it. It was soprano. A mare's voice, but no less wrathful for it. "She's MINE! Not yours! Don't you EVER say that!"
In her anger, Flash saw an opportunity. It was risky to keep engaging, but an angry villain would be prone to monologuing and giving things away. "Not her! Lapis! I'm dating Lieutenant Lapis Pillar!"
The doll was silent for a heartbeat, then two. Three. Four beats passed, then the voice returned with all the icy fury of the frozen wastes. ‘So... you're not just a lecher, but a two-timing cheater as well.’
It sighed, and when it spoke again it's emotions were reined back in.
‘But there is no sin so great that the pony does not deserve the chance at redemption. That is something I have learned from Twilight. So you will have an opportunity to free yourself from vices that claim your soul. A game, of sorts.’
Something immaterial about the room changed. Maybe it was the light, maybe a sound at the edge of hearing, but whatever it was sent an icy chill down Flash's spine.
‘Flash Sentry,’ It said. ‘Would you be willing to sacrifice all the love you have for Twilight Sparkle?’
"What? Yes," Flash agreed immediately. Whatever it took to prove himself innocent. Besides, he could hardly give up something he didn't have.
‘Then you are a more righteous stallion than I thought. Let us begin.’ With little fanfare, the second curtain fell away, revealing that the room was twice as large as he'd thought.
And that he was not alone in his imprisonment.
‘This is infiltrator drone 627741B, but that's rather a mouthful, so I call him Dwayne. Say hello, Dwayne.’ The chained changeling snarled and strained against its bonds, teeth gnashing and grinding against its muzzle.
'Dwayne has been here quite a bit longer than you and hasn't had a bite to eat since.'
Flash swallowed a lump in his throat as deep, instinctive fear tried to rise. It wasn't enough that it was an unreformed changeling, but there was a wildness to its eyes that looked positively feral.
The doll spoke again. ‘Flash Sentry. There are two paths before you. Down the first, you learn to let go of what does not belong to you and allow Dwayne to gorge himself on your love for Twilight Sparkle. You'll walk out of here a free stallion, but with no more interest in her than a dress store mannequin. Down the second path, you can choose to cling to your sick perversion... and Dwayne will help himself to whatever else you have until he's satisfied. If you're particularly strong willed you might even survive. Though you'd be the first.’
Sheer unadulterated horror struck Flash dumb. What kind of choice was this supposed to be?!
‘And don't think you can try and negotiate with him,’ the doll cautioned. ‘I was being literal earlier when I said those cupcakes were made with love. You can't digest it, of course, but after consuming that much you're so marinated in love that it's coming out of your pores.’
"What kind of trial is this?!" he demanded, "I'm innocent!"
A heavy moment passed before he got a response. ‘It seems there's been a misunderstanding.’ A small flame of hope flickered in Flash's heart before it was immediately quashed. ‘This isn't a trial to determine guilt or innocence. No, your guilt was evident the moment you locked eyes with her. This is the kind of trial that you either overcome and grow from... or die in the process.’
The changeling thrashed and threw itself at him. One of the chains came free from its mooring.
‘Twilight believes in redemption, so this is your chance to redeem yourself. Allow Dwayne to purge you of your sin, or die a lustful sinner and prove my actions just.’
Another chain fell free as Flash realized just how little time he had to decide.
‘Love or die, Flash.’
He had no weapons, no mobility, no flight. No plan, no options, and no love for Twilight to give up whether he wanted to or not!
‘Make your choice.’
With a click, the final chain holding the changeling in place fell slack and its muzzle dropped to the floor.
"No! No, wait—!"
The changeling leapt.
Flash blinked himself into groggy wakefulness, which was... fine.
The sun was out and he was in an alley. Also fine. There were worse places to be. Like the prison cell he's woken up in before. That had been unpleasant, but it was in the past now, so he didn't spend much time lingering on it.
He got up, brushed himself off, and wandered out into the unfamiliar town.
It was a nice little town. Very rural, very rustic, but not particularly memorable or evocative.
He'd need to get back to his squad soon. They'd be looking for him. If he was out past the end of his approved leave, he could get a demerit. But that wouldn't be so bad. Even if he was fired, the Guard was just a job. He could get another.
'Would they accept kidnapping as a valid excuse?' he wondered, but found he didn't really care either way.
A few minutes of wandering led him to a small café, and a rumble in his stomach reminded him that he hadn't had a proper meal since the pizza and cider who knew how long ago.
"Gooood Morning!" the mare behind the counter called out as a small bell announced his entrance. "Welcome to Sugar Cube Corner. What can I getcha?"
He looked at the display. It overflowed with freshly baked goods. Strawberry tarts, chocolate muffins, cinnamon twists. Nothing really stood out as more appealing than anything else. "I don't have any money," he said. "Can you tell me where I am?"
The mare giggled. "I just did. You're in Sugar Cube Corner. Or, if you wanna get less specific, Ponyville. Home of weekly disasters, Equestria's newest princess, and the best bakery this side of Canterlot!"
'Ponyville. It'll take two connecting trains to get back to the Crystal Empire then.'
He nodded—"Thanks."—and turned to leave.
"Wait!" He turned back at the waitress' call. "Here." She passed a wrapped paper bag over the counter. "You seem kinda down. Have a cupcake. On the house." She winked. "Just don't tell my boss."
"Thanks." He took the bag and held it under one wing as he turned and walked out.
"I hope you enjoy it!" she called through the closing gap. "They're made with love!"
For a moment, every muscle in Flash's body froze. Something about that voice saying those words... a dreadful feeling of recognition welled within him.
It felt like something deep within him was about to ignite... but then it sputtered and died, the embers quashed in a wave of all-consuming apathy.
So what if that had been her. He couldn't prove it and he found he couldn't hold any resentment or anger towards her anyway.
He unwrapped the package and pulled out a single, steaming-fresh, boysenberry muffin.
He took a bite.
It tasted... fine.
Exactly like the ones he'd eaten in the cell.
Flash Sentry swallowed and went on his way. He had a train to catch.
