The tundra is treacherous, that is for certain. Excepting small animals, it was rarely by the teeth of a predator that a creature died. Instead, it was the climate. Not just the terrible snowstorms, augmented by a magic so diffuse that only spirits could truly sense it, but also the short growing season. There was only so much time that the plants could use to grow in the sun before smothered by layers of snow for many months. Since the animals rely on plants for food, early or late snows could seriously impact the populations within the tundra for years to come.

Above all, however, the tundra was unpredictable. Unlike the tamed and curated environment found in the settled parts of Equestria and the less run-down parts of the griffon's lands, the weather was arbitrary to the extreme, caring for little but its own whims. Even without the weak undercurrent of anger resisting the efforts of weather management, there simply weren't enough flying creatures to successfully take control of it, and for now, the arable land gained would simply not be able sustain them. As a result, the land did not care for those living on it, outside of the saccharine confines of the Crystal City.

This left little room for learning from mistakes or getting second chances. Sometimes, a minor mistake could never be recovered from, other times, and usually lethal decision could be made with only minimal consequences, rarely with only positive results.

Thorax had made an error: he misjudged the weather. Even in a land as wild as the Badlands, this was never a problem, as the sandstorms were easy to shelter from, and those never lasted longer than a day. Not so with the tundra.

It was mid-spring. By now, the snow had mostly melted away, leaving large patches of bare ground and scraggly greens. Most of the snow left was in the icy areas, where the chilling magic was just an imperceptible amount stronger. In past years, this was a sign that the storms of winter were now over, and it was safe to go out travelling again.

Not this time, though. After a few days of clear weather, a blizzard swept in overnight. It was as harsh as the usual storm of mid-winter, which could easily leave a pony or changeling with frostbite... if not worse. Not only that, but it was unusually long-lasting as well. The winds kept blowing and the snow kept falling...

...and falling...

...and falling....

Thorax slowly woke up from his slumber. Despite having slept a lot lately, he still felt exhausted. Despite the tiredness having long sept into his bones like an old friend, he didn't yawn. He just didn't have the energy for it anymore.

He'd been sleeping more and more during his confinement within his sheltering ravine. The storm was just too dangerous to let him leave, and by his best guesses, it had been a week now. It was hard to tell, as he spent less and less time awake irrespective of wherever the sun was at the moment. Still, whenever he woke up, he would drag himself to the nearest, easiest entrance to this set of tunnels and would check to see if it was finally safe. Normally, it was bad enough to make his horn feel numb from cold after a few seconds. To his dull surprise, he could see the setting sun on the horizon, as clear as the soon-ending day. He looked around, further confirming that the storm had finally vanished.

Well, if he waited any longer, he would probably starve. Mustering what little energy he had left, he stepped out into the open and started trudging towards the Empire. Even if he had the energy to fly, his wings had been reduced to tatters over the last week.

It took hours to finally get there, but he finally made it to the bubble of warmth surrounding the city. After passing through, he wasn't sure which he preferred, as the cold helped to numb the sharp hunger in his stomach as well as the various aches and pains... well, everywhere.

By now it was deep into the night, and nopony was on the streets. This was just fine for him, as he couldn't transform anymore, not without knocking himself out in the process, he had that little energy remaining. While he couldn't find anypony to feed off of, whatever was left of his consciousness was terrified he might overfeed to the point of seriously hurting somepony if he did. His target was instead the Crystal Heart, as desperate times called for desperate measures.

The streets blended together as he walked on. His vision swam away and his steps were no longer being heard by his own ears as his subconscious deemed those bits unnecessary to the current task. He could feel the Heart's flame, and that was all that was needed. Luckily, it was a straight shot to it, so that wasn't wrong.

Eventually, he made it to the Heart and opened his jaws to feed and a barely visible stream of energy seeped out of the artefact.

The chronometer ticked away... metaphorically speaking, as it did not make a sound. Unlike almost any other part of the complex web of spells, it was always active to help monitor the passage of time. While it had to be recalibrated in light of recent events thanks to the acts of the Betrayer, it has otherwise kept extremely good time while the solar cycle remained consistent. The other always-active spell was the shield, and the former helped to regulate the flow of magic from the reserves to the barrier.

The only other active function was what was long ago called the sleeping observer. It was there to wake up the more active and draining spells at times when it was deemed important, which usually involved unusual signatures nearby or sudden changes in energy. At this moment, both occurred, though not simultaneously.

First, a strange creature arrived, though it was not a stranger. The being had been here a few times, and the artefact's functions could easily recognize. More unusual was that, outside of two far more negative individuals, this one was the only one it could note of. There was no other mention of its species, though that should not come as a surprise. Years of emergency power usage due to the Betrayer's actions had corroded much of the information stored within the storage matrices, and little was preserved of anything before those acts occurred.

As always when a strange or new individual approached, intentions were scanned. Unlike the last couple of times the individual arrived, the negatives far outweighed the positives. No matter, the Heart charged up a minor shield to kinetically deal with the issue...

...then toned it back down as more results came in. The positive intentions were in fact more numerous than the previous times, just very subdued somehow. The negative intention was overwhelmingly large and was obviously a hunger of some sort, but unlike the refined and ambitious hunger of the Betrayer, this was far more primal. The analysis concluded based on current and past evidence that it seemed to be a genuine need for sustenance, and not fulfilling it would have serious consequences to an individual that displayed no other bad elements. In fact, this may have been the same negativity that triggered the defense mechanism in the past.

As a result, when a sudden large drain in the energy stores occurred, all the Heart did was clamp down on it to regulate the flow rate. After all, that energy was needed for its primary purpose, and it was not taking any action that would likely threaten it.

Exactly five seconds of full flow, enough was drained to start up the shield or maintain it for two days. The (then) advanced module specializing in probability calculations decided that it was enough and cut off the flow. The artefact continued to monitor the emotional state of the strange individual, noting how the ravenous darkness continued to decrease in importance and both positive intentions as well as general wellbeing enlarged.

After nine and a half seconds of this, the emotional center dropped a distance and muted itself in a process near identical to that the artefact's most common charges go through a few hours before the chronometer's day counter increments.

After thirty seconds passed with no further events of interest, the Heart returned to standby.

Guard* patrolled through the lower halls, fuming on the inside at the pointlessness of part of his route. Sure, some numb-skull tourist, homeless sod, or thieving runt might make off with something valuable from the lower floors without these patrols, but why did he need to march past the Crystal Heart every morning patrol? It's not like anypony would be dumb enough to try making off with it in tow, and if something was wrong with the Heart, there were so many signs of it easily seen be looking out a window. It would simply be more efficient to just avoid that part entirely as it was unnecessary ground.

*Not his real name. Hardly anypony knows his name as he rarely even gives the time of day to anyone but his superiors.

And he'd complained about it in the barracks several times (the other guards stopped listening after the third time) and requested this change through official channels multiple times. And yet, he got no response beyond a denial the first time. Apparently being a lowly guard made his opinion invalid even when he was presenting the objectively best option. For it to be worth less than that of an officer made sense: after all, if any of the guards in the barracks (himself excluded, of course) were to be suddenly given the reins of the entire city's guard, chaos would ensue.

All this just furthered his resolve to rise the ranks so that he could finally impose his vision of how the guard really should be. New weapons and armor, rationalized patrol patterns, having the bureaucrats handle civilian issues unrelated to crime... the list went on for a while. It was obvious he would get there eventually, and any delays had to be some sort of sabotage, as he was truly the image of the quintessential guard**.

**The other ponies that agree with that statement usually have really low opinions on the Guard in general.

He headed down the final flight of stairs in his patrol path to the Crystal Heart, still reveling in his plans for local law enforcement domination. In fact, he was so caught up in his own head that he didn't notice the obvious pile of chitin in his way until he literally tripped over it. To be fair, the poor lighting from it being a few minutes before sunrise also had a hoof in this.

"Ugh," he groaned from the floor. He pushed himself back up, muttering all the while, "What, or who, did I trip over?"

Once he stood up, he rubbed his jaw a bit and tried to make out the tripping hazard. "I hope it's some random bum, so I can..." he trailed off upon realizing that not only was it someone, but it also looked very much like a changeling.

He rubbed his eyes just in case. Still there. He shoved it a little with his hoof. He was met with some resistance and the feel of an exoskeleton, so it was definitely real.

Then it started to stir. Once the eyes started blinking open, the guard's fight-or-flight response kicked in. He shrieked and ran back into castle and up the flight of stairs, yelling all the while like a broken record, "Sound the alarm, sound the alarm, there's a changeling in the Crystal Empire!"

Whatever just woke Thorax up left his ears ringing. He got his bearings, realizing that he was much closer to the Crystal Heart than he ever was before.

He didn't have much time to think on it, as his hearing returned enough so that he could faintly hear, "There's a changeling in the Crystal Empire!"

He tried to ponder this in a still woozy state. Was that just in his head? No, he heard it again, even more clearly as the ringing in his ears receded. Did the Queen send a changeling that got caught? The possibility lingered in his mind until he looked down at his front legs laying in front of him, completely undisguised.

Oh.

...

Oh no.

He had to leave, now. He vaguely sensed alarm slowly increasing in the castle above him, and it was only a matter of time before whoever found him came back with reinforcements. He was already one of the worst changelings in his former hive at fighting, and any more disadvantages was just tearing at the wound.

He had no time to lose and his energy stores, while way fuller than at any point in the last couple of days, could only go for so long, so Thorax raced off without bothering to transform. Regardless of if he did or didn't, the city would go on high alert anyway.

Once he made it back to his sheltering ravine, he laid himself onto the cold floor and curled up into a ball. What was he supposed to do now, when that freak storm just ruined everything?

A train's brakes shrieked as it came to a stop at the Crystal Empire's train station. This wasn't unusual at all, as the only reliable method of getting there (outside risking long-distance flight in a wild weather zone) was via railroad.

What was unusual was three of the passengers aboard the train, though all three would rather that everypony think of them as normal. One was a unicorn who could mix, merge, and rewrite spells as if they were simple text, another was the latest in the line of alicorn princesses, and the last was a little dragon in a trench coat that was surprisingly effective at hiding him from the local fans.

At first, all that greeted them was an eerily quiet city.

Author's Note

This was written ages ago in little bits and pieces, and it was only now that I found the time to edit it. The fact that I use different devices to write and edit only compounds these issues, which is why parts of the epilogue are already written.

This is the finale. After this, the episode The Times They Are A Changeling occurs, though I won't make any effort to recreate it here.

The epilogue should close up any of the remaining story threads, just like last chapter did with the foxes.