One Day The Gods Will Hear Us
“Hang on, Spike!” Twilight Sparkle whinnied and galloped down the gully, leading the Mane Six after her in a thunderous cloud of hooves and fluttering manes.
“The Tree of Harmony!” Spike cried in his excited little baby-dragon voice. “Of course! You’re sure this will work, Twi?”
“Yes, darling!” Rarity called in her own warmly accented voice, even as she coughed a bit of stray road dust out of her throat. “How can you be certain - oof, watch your tail, Applejack! - that the Tree of Harmony will still contain enough magic to defeat Nightmare Moon?”
“It has to!” Twilight Sparkle replied, steeling herself with a tightening of her jaw as she leapt over a fallen tree. When she spoke again, it was only for her own ears. “It has to.”
The Mane Six galloped into a quiet clearing tucked into the wall of a steep ravine, and approached the Tree of Harmony reverently, gazing up at its glowing, sprawling branches. It still glowed, still clung to life even if its branches were gnarled and bare, and Twilight Sparkle gazed up at it for a long moment. “C’mon, everypony! Form a circle,” she cried, and the group spread out obediently, taking their places around the massive trunk. As one, the Mane Six lifted their noses, and a great, powerful magic encircled them, lighting them up in every color of the rainbow as magic surged through their bodies. Kindness, Generosity, Loyalty, Honesty, Laughter, and Magic seemed to irradiate every inch of Twilight Sparkle, and as she breathed in a fresh breath of air, she felt as if she might even be able to taste the very flavor of the Elements of Harmony.
As she slowly lowered to the ground and the magic she bathed in faded, the light that had filled the room grew dim, flickered, and died. For a moment, nopony said anything, and a breathless sort of silence filled the darkness.
“The ceremony didn’t work.”
Twilight Sparkle twisted to see the voice, and watched as a changeling elder emerged from the shadows. Other changelings emerged from the walls from unseen catacombs and cells carved into the ancient wall. In the flickering of the Tree of Harmony’s magic they had been nigh invisible, and dozens of insectile changeling faces peered at the ponies from the darkness.
“No! It just needs more time!” Twilight Sparkle barked shrilly.
“The Tree of Harmony has spoken. You have failed. For the seventh time, Carabiner, you have failed.”
“No!” Twilight Sparkle shrieked, and as she took to the air, powerful hooves caught her and pinned her down to the floor. The visage of Twilight Sparkle melted away, revealing the hard, shiny black carapace of a changeling drone, her blue eyes filled with fear. “No! There’s more time - there was magic there, I felt it!”
“Of course you felt it; that is your role as Twilight Sparkle. You must feel the magic, feel the power of leadership, the weight of Ponyville’s safety resting on your shoulders. The burden of the baby dragon on your back as a physical manifestation of the duties of rule that Twilight Sparkle bore without complaint,” the elder nodded to Spike, who unfurled in a flame of green magic to reveal another changeling, younger than her, watching Carabiner thrash with deep pity.
“I’m sorry, Cara,” the changeling who had been Spike said softly, but the elder shook his head, and she obediently drew away from her. “Maybe if I’d been a better Spike it would have worked.”
“It is not your fault. Carabiner had seven years to learn all of the roles. As the leader, the success of the mission fell solely on Twilight Sparkle’s shoulders.”
“You - you can’t do this! It’s not right! It’s not what the ponies would have wanted!” Carabiner gasped, bucking and thrashing to no avail. The guards who pinned her were far too strong, and well practiced at restraining squirming failed Twilight Sparkle mimicries. “You must know that! The ancient texts - they prized friendship, more than anything! Friendship was their true magic, not the tree!”
“If the ponies wanted it differently,” the elder said sadly as he turned away, unable to watch Carabiner be dragged away, “then they should have stayed.”
Carabiner fought all the way to the cliffs, to where the last remaining ruins of pony civilization remained. It was said that there was once a great lighthouse here, so grand and bright that it summoned all remaining pony factions to the same place. But it had not been bright enough to save the ponies from whatever it was that felled them, so long ago that not even their greatest, oldest writings could explain where they had gone. All they had were the ancient texts, the Book of Harmony, found in a crumbling library that was left as a monument to a once great civilization.
“You don’t have to throw me,” Carabiner hissed desperately, her voice gone sharp and cold with fear as they approached the cliff, so close now to the sea that she could taste the salt in the air, almost as strongly as she had tasted the magic. It had felt so real, so close; she was so close this time, closer than she’d ever been, and she was certain it would work. After last year - after she’d lost Boutique - no, don’t think about Boutique, don’t think about her scream, not now, please -
The breath was driven from Carabiner’s lungs as she was roughly shoved to the ground, and the guards turned her. She realized a moment too late that they were ripping up reeds, tying down her fluttering insect wings with one, tying a back and a front leg together with another. So she couldn’t fly away, couldn’t free herself; could only drop into the waves below.
“You don’t have to do this! You think the ponies would want this? The - the ponies who told stories about being better friends, who wrote letters to their goddess-emperor about lessons they learned, books about baking and games? They didn’t write about murder! They didn’t write about sacrifice!” Carabiner was talking fast now, panic making her voice high and sharp, even as they hefted her up into their forelegs and carried her towards the edge of the cliff. “Think about it! What has gotten better since we’ve been throwing changelings away? Nothing! It’s only gotten worse! There’s still no ponies in the world, nothing for us to feed on! Use your brains!”
“If we don’t throw you, they’ll throw one of us instead,” one of the burly guards rumbled, and his voice softened as they paused at the edge of the cliff. “Sorry.”
“I don’t bucking forgive you,” Carabiner snarled through tears, and she felt that this probably wasn’t what one of the Mane Six would have said at all. Perhaps that’s why the ceremony failed; perhaps she was too much Carabiner, and not nearly enough Twilight Sparkle. Twilight Sparkle would have taken her sacrifice with dignity and grace, but Carabiner couldn’t stop the scream that ripped itself from her lips as they released her, and she fought her bindings even as she plunged into the cold, brutal ocean.
Hitting the water from such a great height was almost harder than hitting solid ground, and the strength of it was like being thrown into the cave wall at full force, as if the entire guard squadron had kicked her all at once. Carabiner’s breath was driven from her lungs, again, and she kicked feebly as she felt her lungs filling with water. She could change to something with gills, couldn’t she? But there were no ponies with gills, no fish ponies, and so as she thrashed with the last remnants of her strength and her vision began to grow dim, a great calm seemed to settle over her. This was it. She had done her best, hadn’t she? She had studied for years, and she had trained so hard, all for it to end up here like every other failed Twilight Sparkle. She had really, really thought she would be the one to bring the ponies back to Equestria. Perhaps it was right that she should die like this, ignobly being eaten by fish.
When she felt a great mass shift in the water under her, she assumed it was the final bits of her brain misfiring as everything went dark. When she felt a shadow fall over her, of course it must be the robe of death draping over her, coming to claim her at last. But then she was cold, suddenly, colder than the ocean, and her face felt wet. Then there was a great, tight squeezing around her chest, forcing the water out of her lungs, and as her ribcage rebounded, it forced air back in.
Carabiner almost wondered that death should hurt less, but as she coughed violently, she was shocked to realize that it was not more salt water that she breathed in, but air. Air! It burned, and hurt, but great goddess-emperor Celestia, it felt like life.
She must have looked like a fish, flopping and thrashing violently to expel the sea water from her body, and the efforts left her shaking and weak on the ground. But she was alive, because this must be life; death couldn’t possibly hurt this much. Her vision returned gradually, and her brightly-blue eyes rolled wildly, trying to get her bearings. Perhaps she had imagined all of this? Perhaps she had collapsed at the ceremony - perhaps she was back in the cave - perhaps she had succeeded, and this was her rebirth into the life of Twilight Sparkle, for real? Was she witnessing her own reincarnation? Was this - birth?
“Twi?”
“M-Mama?” Carabiner tried, very softly, as her eyes widened to saucers. She didn’t want to get this wrong, not twice, but it felt as if drowning might have been the better option when a massive, gargantuan head lowered itself to her eye level.
He had to be twice as long as the ancient lighthouse was rumored to be, and his head was at least two of her across. He was a dark, burnished sort of plum, but when the light flickered over him just right, lavender flecks played over his algae encrusted scales. Great green spines trailed down his back, each one as long as she was from nose to tail, and two mighty ridged horns spiraled out from his skull. Slit-pupiled eyes almost like hers gazed down at her, and she could see the massive pupil narrow in consideration as she spoke. He could swallow her up in one gulp, no problem.
Carabiner realized, suddenly, that perhaps there were deaths that were worse than drowning.
“Mama?” the great voice spoke, and when his voice reverberated through her, it made her bones jangle uncomfortably. “Hm.”
“I - I mean -” Carabiner adjusted rapidly, her heart pounding painfully in her throat, even as she fought to get out of her water-swollen binds. “I’m - I’m Twi, T-Twilight Sparkle, right? That’s - that’s me!” And goddess-emperor help her, but Carabiner managed to summon the strength to take on her latest shape, that of the purple unicorn, the student of friendship, Twilight Sparkle of Ponyville.
The great scaled beast became very still, and if she wasn’t close enough to see his massive green eye, to see the pupil as it widened with recognition, she might have thought she died again. Or - died the first time? This was the strangest afterlife Carabiner had ever imagined, if she actually was in one. But if she wasn’t mistaken, if her inherently canny changeling skill for emotional manipulation hadn’t suddenly failed her, the movement of the reptile’s eye betrayed affection - sorrow, even. Longing. She could taste it on her tongue, and the surge of emotion quieted some of the pain in her frame, healing and soothing her. It wasn’t love, but it was an emotion, and she had never tasted one from such a rich, deep source.
“You’re not my Twi, but you’re very close. One of the best I’ve seen,” the great voice reverberated again, and Carabiner shuddered as her bones rattled. She was rattling hard enough to not even notice that he was pulling at her reed bindings until it was too late, razor-sharp talons as long as her cutting into them, and then she was free. He even managed to hook a claw into her soft midsection and tug away, freeing her (soaked, useless) wings without so much as a nick. “There you go, little one.”
“Y- You -” Carabiner stammered as she pulled herself to her hooves, shaking all over, her eyes locked on the great monster, “you’re - you saved - but you’re - eating -”
“Stop! You can’t talk so close to her, you’ll make her skull go all buzzy,” came a sharp voice, and suddenly Carabiner recognized it, recognized her, even before she was dragged into a tight hug by someone she had said goodbye to a long time ago. As she laid her face against the warm, familiar neck, she knew it had to be impossible, and yet she held her tightly all the same. Carabiner had asked so many times for one last moment with her; perhaps now her wishes were being granted.
“But you - you’re - I must be dead, if you’re -”
“C’mon, Beans, use that big brain of yours, huh?” Boutique grinned, and rubbed her shoulder insistently, even as she clutched her close. “Hey, can you give us a warm-up down here?”
“A warm -” and as if Carabiner hadn’t been assailed with enough sensations yet, she was suddenly enveloped in a blast of hot breath from lungs big enough to fill the sails of a three-masted pony ship. Hot enough that at first she feared it was flame, but with surprise, she felt her limp wings rise back to life once more, as dry and fluttery as if she’d never drowned. “But I - I d-drowned,” Carabiner gasped, swallowing tightly as the rush of hot air ended as quickly as it began, leaving her shaking in its wake.
“Yeah, you almost did,” Boutique agreed, and as she pulled back, Carabiner could see more of where they stood, beyond just the great beast. He had withdrawn, and now his head was far, far above them, but the great cave they stood in was even grander, more cavernous, dwarfing even a beast such as he. She recognized the many dark bodies that slowly came to file in around the beast’s large body, far too close to be strangers. In each changelings’ face, she recognized a Twilight Sparkle - each of her copies from years and years past, thrown over the cliff never to be seen again. There were even elderly changelings here, their wings torn and wrinkled with age, from years before she was even hatched. “Turns out there’s someone who likes the Twilight Sparkle character even more than you, Beans.”
“T-Twilight Sparkle?” Carabiner asked, dumbly, as Boutique rubbed her shoulder, trying to steady her.
“I thought you said the next Twilight Sparkle was smart, Boutique,” came a sharp voice, and Carabiner recognized her after a moment - she had been only a small filly when Hoofbeat was thrown over the cliff.
“She is. I bet you she’ll even work out who this big guy is, if you give her a minute to get over almost drowning,” Boutique snapped, and gave a little warning hum of her wings against her back. “What do you think, Beans? Who do you think this might be?”
Carabiner lifted her gaze to the massive beast that Boutique jerked her head at, as if he was a neighbor who owed her a cup of salt, and not the biggest creature that Carabiner had ever seen. He looked back down at her with great green eyes, but past the teeth, and the horns, and the spikes, and the tail that could fell all of Everfree Forest in one blow, she could see the sadness in his gaze, and she remembered the longing. Who would long for Twilight Sparkle? She loved only her books, only her family and her friends, and this was no pony.
“But Spike was a baby dragon,” Carabiner whispered at last, and she swallowed, even as she watched the massive dragon chuckle out a deep, deep sound, which seemed to reverberate in the very walls of the sea cave.
“Dragons grow, little changeling,” the great beast spoke, and this time, she could hear the gentleness beneath the great depth of his voice. If she squinted, if she brushed away the layers of algae, she could almost imagine the purple and green of what his scales must be, perhaps darkened with age. “Boutique was right. You are one smart cookie - that’s an old pony-ism.”
“Not smart enough to survive the trial,” huffed Hoofbeat, but Carabiner could recognize her anger as disappointment, badly disguised.
“There could be no surviving a trial like that. Twilight Sparkle would never return if it meant sacrificing another pony,” Spike protested, and his voice grew a little booming in his frustration before he quieted his voice, careful not to deafen the gathered changelings. “Twilight wasn’t like that.”
“You … you knew Twilight Sparkle herself. You were there.” Carabiner whispered, gazing up at Spike in amazement, her eyes wide. “All of the ancient texts, the scrolls, the friendship stories - you lived it.”
“He did,” Boutique agreed, and she drew Carabiner’s gaze back down to her with a gentle hoof on her cheek. “But now you’re here, and you’re safe. You don’t ever have to worry about being thrown over a cliff ever again, Beans.” Boutique’s voice was thick with tears, and Carabiner found herself comforting her long-lost friend on the day that should have been her own funeral.
But something niggled at Carabiner, even as the flock of fellow former Twilight Sparkles welcomed her to her new home. Still, she dutifully followed along as they took turns showing her all of the perfectly-carved cells and rooms that would serve as her new hive. Spike was quite protective of them, and they had anything they could ever need, down here beneath the sea. The rest of her life would be quite peaceful, it seemed.
And yet.
Even once she was snuggled deeply into the downy moss of Boutique’s nest, her fellow changeling nestled tightly against her neck, Carabiner couldn’t quiet her thoughts. She understood, now, understood that the rest of her life could be very easy if she wanted it to be. Live in the cave, eat algae and moss, feed off of the dragon’s emotions when necessary. She would be with Boutique, which was once all she had ever thought she wanted.
But in a year from now, and for every year after that, a new changeling would be thrown into the ocean. The rest of the changelings would live under the fearful oppression of knowing that eventually, all of them would have to take their turn to enter the ranks of the playacted Fellowship of Magic, and try and fail to summon Twilight Sparkle. That didn’t sit right with her.
“Beans?” Boutique murmured thickly, her voice raspy with tears and sleep. She tried to play it cool, but she wasn’t that good of an actress, Carabiner noted fondly. “Can’t sleep?”
“No.”
“... well, do I gotta twist your hoof for an explanation?” Boutique chuckled, and rubbed her eye with a dark hoof. “What’s up?”
“We have less than a year. Less than a year before they throw another Twilight Sparkle into the sea.”
“... yes,” Boutique agreed, when no further information was forthcoming. But when Boutique finally pulled away to look up at her companion properly, she found Carabiner’s identical blue eyes ablaze, almost glowing in the darkness. “So what does that mean?”
“It means we have less than a year to summon Twilight Sparkle and the Fellowship of Magic back to Equestria.”
Boutique was quiet for a long moment, considering her. “Well, if anypony could do it, Beans, it’d be you,” Boutique grinned, and despite the weight of her words, Boutique wrapped her forelegs around her again, tugging her back into her mossy bed. “But you’ll think better on a full night’s sleep.”
And despite the weight of her thoughts, Carabiner couldn’t find a good enough reason to disagree.
