An Extended Holiday

by Commander_Pensword

21 - Gods Save the Queen

Extended Holiday
Chapter 21: Gods Save the Queen

---

“So, according to what I was able to read up on, the empire has several types of crystals with unique properties,” Grif explained as he and Pensword approached the forge. “This kind, for instance,” he pulled out a large bright yellow crystal, “apparently will let out a burst of light if you break it.”

“Is the reaction at all chemical or more magical?” Pensword asked curiously.

“Magical, I think,” he said, drawing out a smaller one that was orange with a black center. “This kind is super stable until exposed to heat.”

“And then?”

“It explodes,” Grif said.

“Like a battery level of explosion or something more potent?”

“A lot more potent,” Grif said. “This is good for a third of a stick of dynamite if I understood the entry correctly.”

Pensword whistled. “That’s strong stuff.”

Grif nodded, putting the crystal away as they found the door.

Once more, Hammer Strike stood before them at the forge. This time, however, he stood before a series of tables, all laden with cloths to conceal what lay beneath. He smiled familiarly as the pair entered, and though that perpetual look of tiredness hung around his eyes, pride flared brightly.

“You called us, Milord?” Pensword asked with a smirk.

“It’s done.” Hammer Strike gestured to the tables. “Took less time than I anticipated, but the quality should be fine.”

“So, are you going to pull a houdini with the whole grand flourish to show off?” Pensword asked.

“I just wanted a nice reveal for it.” Hammer Strike shrugged. “Left is yours, Pensword. Right is yours, Grif. And my own is in the center.”

What lay beneath Pensword’s cover was made of fine burnished steel with crystalline inlay. The clever garb was designed to provide minimal openings to the wing joints it closed around while simultaneously granting extra plating over the barding at his chest. The rear flowed artfully, like the underbelly of a storm cloud. Crystalline extensions draped over his flanks to protect on either side while powerful horseshoes waited to shod his hooves and strike with all the force he could muster. Lastly, a helmet complete with waiting plume for his mane and prehensile jointed ear pieces sat next to what at first appeared to be a form of scaly mail with a feather design.

“What’s this?” Pensword asked as he poked at the pile, only to find that it slid apart into two portions.

“A quick experiment I made from some reading I did before our trip here. They’re wingblades,” Hammer Strike explained. “Works with the general movement of your flight, and can be used accordingly.”

“So, sort of like a set of secondary swords?” Pensword looked at the pile in thought. “Think you can help me put these things on?”

“Sure, though you’ll find it’s not too complicated, thankfully.”

“What have you got, Grif?” Pensword asked curiously as he picked up the strange devices and handed them gingerly to Hammer Strike.

Grif held up a suit of leather armor tacked with carefully fitted steel plates that had been placed to allow a good range of movement while offering necessary defensive ability. He tested the weight before nodding to himself as he slipped it on. “It seems sturdy enough,” he commented as he tested its range of motion. “Thanks, Hammer Strike.”

“And with that, I have completed our sets of armor and equipment. Meaning, I need to get some rest.” Hammer Strike exhaled.

“You’re not going to try on your armor, too? Or have you already tested it to make sure it fits?” Pensword asked.

“I know it fits, so there’s that, but….” He moved over to the extra table and pulled off the final cover to reveal a set of platemail. It wasn’t too intricate beyond the joints, but seemed functional enough to serve its purpose. A set of Pony gauntlets had been fashioned to fit over Hammer Strike’s hooves. The plating and spikes around them made them an ideal weapon for close range combat.

Pensword frowned. “You put more time into ours, didn’t you?”

“It works fine. I made your sets dependent on weight. That way, you could still move freely. As I am, I can move more weight and handle it easier, leading to this. It covers me fine and works well.” He shrugged. “It just weighs more. Oh, right.” He turned to face Grif. “Before I forget,” he said as he moved back toward a separate table, “I finished up all your throwing knives, Grif.”

“Thanks.” Grif approached the table. “Wait, what did you do?” He seized the bandolier and examined the curious creations. Metal tangs jutted out from the sheaths with no sign of a handle. Removing one exposed a blade with deep etching to make it look just like a feather.

“You mentioned you wanted them more noticeable, so I made them noticeable.”

“This is amazing,” Grif said as he examined one up close. “This must have taken you hours.” He slid the blade back into its slot and slid the bandolier on.

“I used them as a way to reset myself mentally when I started to zone out from making the armor.”

“Well, they're amazing, and I'm proud to use them,” Grif said.

“Glad to hear.”

“Good. Now that we’ve got that settled, Hammer Strike, you should probably at least try to get some sleep, like you said you were going to,” Pensword noted.

“That’s the plan.” Hammer Strike nodded.

“Not before we’ve set another plan in place,” Star Swirl said as he barged into the room and slammed the doors shut behind him. Moments later, the same silencing field and a multitude of other wards sprung up to cover the room in his power. “Our enemy is preparing to make his move. The threads of an intricate illusion spell are being woven over the city as we speak. And with them is an equally problematic field designed to intercept all natural forms of magical communication. Not even dragon fire would be able to pass through without the caster’s permission. I fear only communication crystals will serve us now to get past the blockade, and even those may be suspect if our enemy is clever enough.”

“Joy. As if anything could be simple,” Hammer Strike sighed.

“I believe you’ll come to learn that few things in this world are, once you get beyond the surface. In the passing of time.” He approached Pensword’s helmet and eyed the pivoting earpiece. “Take it from an old stallion. I have my secrets, and my experiences. You’ll doubtless have many more of your own as you develop into your mantle.”

“Only time will tell.” Hammer Strike shrugged. “In any case, it would be best to cover what we can while I still maintain consciousness.”

Star Swirl nodded grimly. “According to your,” he cleared his throat disapprovingly, “sources, the empire must inevitably fall. It will be up to you, Pensword, to ensure that the children are escorted safely out of the bounds of the city. Our enemy will likely know, or at least suspect, our intentions to take the children away to safety.” He shook his head. “The passage leading to the safehouse will likely be trapped. You will have to take them by land and use the escape hatch for entry.”

“And how am I supposed to find this safehouse in the middle of a frozen wasteland?” Pensword asked.

“Give me your helmet,” the stallion ordered.

Pensword did so, and Star Swirl looked to the metal scrollwork at the brow. A few carefully placed runes and a zap of magic soon left the helmet levitating back onto the Pony’s head.

“I’ve charted the course for you in your helmet. It will use the crystal palace as its anchor and orient you accordingly. Follow the path it leads you by, and only do so when you are certain you are not being followed. Tap the runes, first on your right, then your left, and finally the guard along the bridge of your nose. That will trigger the spell. When you wish to dismiss it, reverse the process.”

Pensword nodded gravely. “You’re certain our enemy won’t be able to sense that connection?”

Star Swirl smirked. “I find it highly unlikely, given where I’ve placed the anchor. Rest assured, he won’t be able to reach it or even so much as touch it.” That smirk soon dissipated, however, in favor of a frown. “Talking of getting there is one thing. Getting the foals out of the city is quite another.”

“I could create a diversion,” Grif offered

Star Swirl furrowed his brow in thought. “You said you were attacked by feral Changelings before arriving at the empire. Manufacturing a more brazen attack might be enough to throw our enemy off balance and provide an opening. It will also provide you the opportunity to lead civilians to safety.”

“Not enough time. And where would we even find enough Changelings? I doubt any hive would be willing to throw their lives away like that with nothing in return,” Pensword noted.

“Our enemy isn’t the only one who is adept at illusions, Pensword. I’ve written several papers on the subject, as a matter of fact. We would need a few Unicorns who would be willing to make the damage more substantial, however.” He looked at the trio. “Just how many royal guards have you been able to recruit?”

“Currently just shy of half,” Grif commented. “We’ve had a good amount of success, despite the cloak and dagger.”

“I assume you have Critical Flaw to thank for that,” Star Swirl noted. “Your skill for recognizing talent is as bright as the tales say. As is your subtlety in its use.”

“I just hope we can keep the foals safe,” Pensword said.

“They need to be our secondary priority,” Grif said. “As much as I hate saying that, we need to focus on securing the timeline first.”

“And getting them out will, will it not?” Star Swirl asked pointedly. “I don’t know everything about your future, but I know enough from your reaction to the foals when you first met that they are important to you. Or at least one of them is.”

“Make no mistake,” Grif said tersely as he locked eyes with Star Swirl. “I do not like the idea of letting children die, and I will do everything within my power to save them, but if you know anything about time travel, you know how dangerous the butterfly effect can be. I won’t toy around with millions of lives like that either.”

“Grif, at the very least, I have to protect Cadance. She’s the rightful heir,” Pensword said softly. “Help me get them out safely, and then we’ll let the cards fall where they may.”

“We can’t keep them together, Pensword,” Grif pointed out. “For reasons you’re aware.”

“And they won’t stay together forever, Grif. But until we can contact Equestria at the safehouse, I’m protecting all three of them,” Pensword said with equal conviction. “You said you would do your utmost to protect them. So will I.”

Grif shrugged. “Anyway, what other details are there?”

“When the empire falls, we will need a place to regroup as well, and hold out until reinforcements arrive. A … colleague of sorts has been delving into the older portions of the empire lately as part of his research. There are several passages leading into long abandoned mines. The maze-like structure of the tunnels should prove advantageous to us, provided we can devise a means to navigate them.”

“We’ll have to look into them as soon as possible.” Hammer Strike nodded.

“I’ll see what arrangements I can make,” Star Swirl said. “In the meantime, I know that you need to get your rest. A word of warning, however. It’s a distinct possibility that our enemy will try to harm you if he can. I advise caution, should you choose to return to your customary chambers. If you prefer, I can arrange for alternate accommodations for you to rest and prepare.”

“I’ll go back, if only to bait them,” Grif said.

“I’ll need someone to watch over me, since I need some rest,” Hammer Strike sighed.

“Then you come back to the room with me?” Grif asked him.

“Probably for the best.”

“I guess that leaves me with the watch on the foals this time around, then,” Pensword said. “I assume you plan to have Critical Flaw come with you, too?”

“Maybe. I’d have to get in contact, but, given my current exhaustion, I don’t even know where to look at this moment.” Hammer Strike frowned.

“If you wish him summoned, I can find him and ensure he is brought to you,” Star Swirl assured.

“I’d appreciate it. Just … know that I’ll probably be passed out by the time he arrives.”

“Well, I guess this is goodbye for now,” Grif commented.

Star Swirl nodded. “I will try to reach you again before events take their course. If we do not, then I will trust in you to give me the proper signal to start the diversion.”

“Stay safe old timer,” Grif said.

“I’d say good luck, but I’ve a feeling you won’t be needing it. Instead, I think I will say … good hunting.” And with that, Star Swirl nodded, removed the spells he had cast, and made his way out the door. “Until next time, Lord Hammer Strike.”

---

The atmosphere in the royal children’s bedchamber was calm and gentle. In this haven, there was no sign of evil, no rumblings or murmur of deceit or betrayal. There was only the time of blissful innocence born of love and a naivety to the crueler realities of an adult world. Here, the stories of war were the basis of games, the battles a chance to create a new fantasy where they could live for a time as they wished and change the narrative. The great pillow fort of Triumph had been reduced to rubble as the choicest of pillows were fluffed and placed on the foals’ beds. Pensword smiled fondly, albeit tiredly, at the trio as they drifted toward sleep.

“Pensword?” the pink Pegasus asked.

“Yes, Cadance?”

“Do you think we could play a different game tomorrow?”

Pensword chuckled. “After Cosy learns to clean his armor. After all, he needs to know how to protect his sisters, now doesn’t he?”

Cadance pouted. “I can take care of myself.”

“Maybe,” Pensword said. “But it never hurts to have friends and family to support you on the days that you can’t. A war can’t be won by one combatant alone.” He sighed. “Sadly, the same can’t be said for starting one.”

Cadance frowned. “Something’s wrong, … isn’t it, Pensword?”

Pensword shook his head and stroked the mare’s mane gently. “No, not yet, Cadance. For now, you and your siblings need to sleep. If something does go wrong, I promise, I’ll do everything I can to protect you. And I don’t go back on my word. Do we have a deal?”

“All right,” Cadance said as she struggled to stifle a yawn. “Deal.”

“Then I’ll see you three in the morning. For now, I know a foal who needs her rest, and a Pegasus who should be seeking his own bed.”

“An adult going to bed this early?”

“Early to bed, early to rise, makes a foal healthy and wealthy and wise,” Pensword quipped as he strode toward the door. “Good night, Princess. And may you have many pleasant dreams.”

The door closed behind him, and he turned to face a familiar steel-colored stallion.

“Hello, Ambrosia,” Pensword greeted.

Ambrosia peered over the stallion’s shoulder to the door behind him. “All tucked in for the night?” he inquired.

Pensword nodded. “And under increased guard, as the queen commanded. I assume she told you what Star Swirl discovered by now.”

Ambrosia nodded. “These are grave times, indeed. I wonder, Pensword, if you would be willing to join me for a walk through the castle. There are certain matters I would discuss with you. And given the disturbing news, I would rather we hold our conversation in a place where listening ears might not be able to follow us so easily.”

“I prefer to keep my dealings in the open, Ambrosia. Grif is the one who specializes in stealth and espionage.”

“And we will. However, I would rather we not have these discussions in a place where certain young foals who should be in bed might be trying to listen through their door,” Ambrosia countered. Then he gestured with a hoof. “Walk with me.”

“Very well,” Pensword said grudgingly. The pair strode through the halls at a casual gait. The rest of the world was calm, but the tension inside the Pegasus was enough to snap a pylon in two.

“I want to be blunt, Pensword.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

Ambrosia chuckled ruefully and shook his head. “You are pert.”

“It’s a trait Hammer Strike approves of in those who are close to him.”

“I see.”

“As do I,” Pensword noted. “Why don’t you say what’s on your mind, Ambrosia? Beating around the bush gets you killed on the battlefield. You have my permission to be blunt, though I don’t see why you would need it.”

“I don’t,” Sombra said with some heat. Then he reined himself in. “Not from you, at any rate. But that is my own affair.” He shook his head. “I’ve come to ask for your help, Pensword.”

“In what way?”

“Your kind are well known in the empire. It is said that your people are able to not only hunt in the shadows but to hunt the very shadows themselves. It is a skill that we need now.”

“I’m afraid you overestimate me, Ambrosia.” Pensword shook his head. “Even if I could hunt the shadows you ask, that skill will be needed to protect the foals until this crisis is past. I can’t afford to offer you my support in your hunt and keep them safe at the same time.”

“The guards seem to be doing an adequate job of that on their own.”

“The guards haven’t faced dark magic before, as you well know.”

“And you have?”

“After a fashion,” Pensword said. “It’s not a thing to scoff at. Nor is it to be underestimated. A skilled practitioner in those arts would find an easy mark in this city. I doubt it is a coincidence that these rumblings should come so shortly after the war was finished and guards have been dropped.”

“Ever the tactician,” Ambrosia said.

“Fight in a war yourself and you’ll understand why,” Pensword returned bleakly.

“I’m not mocking you, Pensword. Far from it.” Ambrosia shook his head. “It’s that kind of mind that I desire as an asset.” The halls were eerily quiet now, and the pair’s hooves echoed loudly down the corridors as they clopped along. Guards saluted or remained aloof interchangeably as the two advanced. “Join forces with me, and we will yet preserve a glorious future for the empire.”

“You make it sound like I haven’t already,” Pensword pointed out.

“That’s because you haven’t.”

Pensword was expecting the attack. He knew enough to know that Ambrosia wouldn’t want to allow them the chance to stop his rise to power. It was only natural. And a proper coup couldn’t be complete if the rightful heirs to the throne weren’t dealt with. A flare of his wings sent him leaping into the air to evade the oncoming charge. However, while the guards that attacked him weren’t so agile, Ambrosia had no such difficulty. His horn pulsed an ugly red as dark purple curled up the spiral. His eyes glowed emerald green. Red welled up within his irises like blood as he fired at the hall surrounding the Pony. And inexperienced as Pensword was in flight, it was impossible to evade the Unicorn’s magic forever. Black crystal burst in jagged protrusions wherever the rays of Ambrosia’s dark magic touched until, at last, Pensword was neatly bound by a growth over his hooves. Try though he might, he couldn’t escape.

Ambrosia let loose a vicious grin as he approached the Pegasus. “But you will, Pensword.” He motioned contemptuously at his prisoner. “Restrain him.”

The former crystalline sheen on the guard ponies’ coats had dulled into a slick reflective black while empty green eyes stared blankly at their target. The guards were mute as they approached the Pegasus and seized both wings firmly in a grasp that was supernaturally strong, even for a Pony with their training. The two guards finally settled Pensword’s struggles by forcing their bodies against his in a mockery of rank and file. Black crystal jutted into existence from their horseshoes and in patches along their armor as Ambrosia laughed.

“Sombra!” Pensword hissed venomously.

Ambrosia sneered as he drew just shy of biting distance from the Pegasus. “Sombra. Is that what Thestrals call people like me?” He laughed. “I like it.” The sneer widened into a demented grin as once-flat teeth lengthened and sharpened into fangs. “But do you know what I like even more?” He flicked his horn, and the dark magic intensified, firing twin beams at the guards. Teeth sharpened. Their manes became little more than wisps of shadow, and as the power flooded through them, they developed body mass that would rival Big Mac in time with the black crystal drinking in the Unicorn’s magic.

The two guards saluted as one and droned, “Master.”

“That’s absolutely right.” Sombra circled around his thralls as he casually conjured a twisted black crystal dagger from a shadowy portal. “It was child’s play to dose my troops with my secret spice.” He chortled. “Crystal is as crystal does, after all. It feeds. It grows. And it follows its matrices. My matrices. Don't worry, Pensword,” he sneered. “You’ll love it, too, when my little tool here is finished with you.”

“Like Tartarus I will,” Pensword spat.

A well-placed beam of energy from Sombra soon had Pensword muzzled. “Much though I would love to watch that resolve crumble, I have a schedule to keep, and we can’t have you alerting anyone else with silly screams when I stab you. Do try to be ready in time for the coup, won’t you? I’ll be looking for a new commander when I ascend the throne.”

Pensword had more than a few choice words for the usurper, but the muzzle wouldn’t allow him to convey them. Then came the pain as the knife struck home. Fire burned through muscle and veins as he screamed in vain. And then all was blackness.

---

Grif sat at a desk idly fiddling with a throwing blade in his talons as he waited impatiently. “He’s been gone a long time,” he said for the fifth time.

“He said he would protect the foals. It’s likely that he’s doing exactly that. Perhaps he chose to sleep in their room,” Star Swirl suggested.

“He’d have sent a form of communication by now,” Grif said.

“And who would he trust to deliver such a message?”

“There are ways,” Grif said. “I’m just worried, okay?”

“If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you three will make it through this crisis. Have faith in your friend. And, barring that, allow an old stallion to go looking. It’s not unusual for me to wander the palace halls, after all. If something is amiss, I will find Pensword and return him safely. You have my word. All I require is something of his to aid me in my search. A hair will suffice, if you have it. Or a feather, perhaps.”

Grif took a minute, but managed to find a single silvery white mane strand.

Star Swirl nodded as he took the strand in his magic, then wrapped it around a needle he removed from his cloak. “This will point me in the right direction. Be at ease, Grif. But remain vigilant. I will do my best to return to you within the hour.”

“Oh, I will be vigilant,” Grif said. “The password is Attila.”

“So be it.” And with those parting words, the stallion took his leave and the door shut behind him, leaving Grif alone to stand watch over Hammer Strike while his worry for Pensword gnawed at his innards.

Grif, for his part, was twiddling with one of his feather-shaped blades. He’d already locked the door and added a few extra locks that people wouldn’t expect for an inn door. Hammer Strike’s letter had warned the time was drawing close. If Sombra was going to make his move, it would have to be within the next few hours. And that inevitably meant only one thing. Blood would spill tonight.

The first confirmation of his suspicions came with the subtle creaking of the floorboards in the bathroom. There was no entrance into that place, save through the door in their suite. And that could only mean one thing; assassins.

Grif Stood and carefully slid the blade into a spot between the leather and one of the metal plates of his breastplate before grabbing one of the knives he’d gotten from hammer strike. Giving an obnoxiously louds yawn and a stretch, even scratching the crystal a bit for effect with his talons, he made his way toward the bathroom as nonchalantly as possible. Silently, Grif approached the bathroom door and stretched again, spreading his entire wingspan out as if he was trying to exercise a kink out of them. He placed the knife tip into the top of the hinges and slid the pins out deftly. Then he counted to three and bashed the door with a shoulder, causing the heavy portal to twist awkwardly inward. He was rewarded with the sound of wood thumping against flesh and metal and … something else? Ignoring the thought for the moment, he pounced into the bathroom. Landing on the recovering guard, he twisted and threw a blade just as the second’s shock was wearing off. It dug into the Pony’s throat. The guard pinned beneath Grif attempted to push him and the door off, but Grif took another knife from his bandolier and drove it beneath the attacker's jawbone, severing the spine quickly.

Grif waited to make sure both Ponies had stopped moving before he retrieved his knives and stepped back. He examined them closely. Their armor still shone purple, but unlike the usual guards, these had something wrong with them. Black crystal similar to his own arm grew off them in various places, and veins of black spidered through their bodies, marring the sheen of their crystal coats.

Confident in the destruction of their enemies, he turned back, realizing he’d left Hammer Strike open. He raced toward the door, only to freeze at the sound of a meaty thud followed by the splintering of bone and wood. What he found when he entered the bedroom was a very awake and very angry Hammer Strike. His eyes were alert, and his chest filled with deep breaths as he calmed himself. Next to the Pony’s bed, the corpse of an additional guard laid in the fragmented remains of the night stand. Blood flowed freely from the guard’s nose and mouth while the bludgeoned remnants of his face gaped back at the Pony who had just dispatched him so brutally.

“I see I missed one,” Grif sighed.

“Huh?” Hammer Strike looked to Grif in a strange mixture of confusion, adrenaline, and muddiness that accompanies one who has been woken by surprise.

“It seems our enemy decided to make his move,” Grif said as he strapped on his other gear.

“How long has it been?” Hammer Strike asked after a few seconds.

“A few hours. Pensword didn’t return, so Star Swirl went to check on him,” Grif said. “If Ambrosia’s making a move like this, he must be planning to act within the next few hours.”

“Great.” Hammer Strike sighed. “All right, I can work off a few hours. Get our selected guards prepared, and I’ll figure things out from there.”

Grif nodded and headed for the door. “Password is Attila.”

“Got it.” Hammer Strike nodded as he moved towards his gear.

---

Ambrosia strode calmly into the throne room, as he always had done for the many years in which he had lived and served in his position of authority. Never in the spotlight, and always beneath his family. Hatred burned still, but mingled with an even hotter anticipation. A thrill of unholy pleasure flared outward, warming him as he strode toward the throne room and the waiting ears of his queen.

“Your Majesty,” he whispered calmly into the mare’s ear as he took his customary place at her side. “We have a code black. Please, remain calm and dismiss the court. Rest assured, the foals are taken care of.”

The one tell the queen gave was the flick of her tail and the subtle stiffening of her body. “What you have to say to me will be said to all of the family, Ambrosia,” she replied. She raised her wings and motioned with her horn to close off the openings to the throne room, as she had once before at the dining hall when Star Swirl issued his warning. “Friends, cousins, my brothers and sisters, I apologize for startling you, but the situation is dire.” Her horn flicked again and a bubble of warm red light flowed outward to fill the room. Ambrosia winced as the power passed over him, but nothing more. “Ambrosia brings dire news.”

The stallion nodded and cleared his throat. “As Star Swirl confirmed, there have been traces of dark magic in the kingdom. These forces have been gradually swelling in strength over time. We do not know for how long. However, it is clear that whoever our enemy is, he or she is clever. On my way into the palace from my rounds in the city, I chanced to trip on my way toward the palace entrance.” He schooled his face with remorse and gravity. “My queen, my fellow nobles, when I fell, my horn should have struck the crystal heart.” A low groan of dismay flooded through the room as Ambrosia turned his gaze on Blood Diamond and then abased himself before her. “It is to my eternal shame that I say it did not. Your Majesty, … the crystal heart is gone.”

“Impossible!” one of the nobles snapped. “If the heart had been taken, the power flowing from the castle would have ceased immediately.”

Sombra shook his head. “Another illusion, I’m afraid, Lady Feldspar. The reason that the kingdom has been exposed to such traces lies not in some stealthy operation to infiltrate the empire, but rather is the result of a large scale illusion that is fueled by the very same power. The traces are the result of its cycle of decay and renewal. It is the only logical explanation for what Star Swirl has detected. And if our enemy has removed our greatest defense, then it’s only a matter of time before they move to attack. We must be prepared. And more importantly, Your Majesty, we must activate the Scattered Wind Protocol.”

“What you say is grave, Ambrosia,” Blood Diamond said as she gazed down at the stallion. “And it is something that I must verify for myself. I will return shortly.” The air sparkled with the remnants of the flash from her teleportation. A minute later, the queen returned the same way she had left. Her face was stricken as she spoke with a haggard voice. “Ambrosia speaks true. It would seem that we are, indeed, under attack, though we cannot as yet see our enemy.”

“Your Majesty, much though it pains me to say this, the protocol must begin. The troops can be mobilized quietly and efficiently, but we must protect the family.”

“You are right.” The queen’s expression was wan from the weight of the gravity that was her loss. It was a loss that her people would doubtless feel in due time if she could not protect them. She raised her horn, and her magic flooded into the crystal at the top of her throne. In a matter of moments, that light radiated and passed over her body to spread through the crystal until the floor disappeared to reveal a spiraling stairwell. “Follow the path to the teleportation circle. Don’t push, and don’t shove. You will all be able to make it to the other side,” she assured them. Under her steady gaze, the nobles departed, looking back with remorse and regret as each bowed gravely to their queen and began their descent.

“You said my children are taken care of?” Blood Diamond asked gravely as the procession continued.

“Yes, my queen. They are in the care of Commander Pensword and Lord Hammer Strike.”

Blood Diamond sighed. “Then they are safe.”

“For now, yes. It would be wise if you were to join the rest of the party, Your Majesty.”

Blood Diamond shook her head. “I won’t leave the empire undefended. That retreat is for those who will carry the future forward. My duty is to protect the present, so that we can have a future.”

“Then, … begging Your Majesty’s pardon, … would you be willing to see this poor stallion off?”

Blood Diamond smiled weakly. “How could I resist the request of someone who’s done so much for this kingdom?”

The descent down the stairs was a slow one as Sombra picked his way toward the depths far below. As the light faded in favor of the dim coolness of the crystal, the space took on the dark appeal of a dungeon. Not a pleasant place under normal circumstances, but an ideal choice for a practitioner of the dark arts. The door to the stairwell laid in wait, its magical surface wide open to welcome the last two to pass into its surface. The wind whistled sweetly through it from the base of the tower to which it led. When Sombra was certain that the remainder of the nobles had left, he cast a beam or magic at the crystal above the door, forcing it to close. “And with that, the rest of the family is safe.”

“Ambrosia, what are you doing?” Blood Diamond demanded.

Ambrosia smiled as he approached and knelt before the queen. “I’ve served you for all this time, my queen. I will serve you still. Until death do us part.”

Blood Diamond raised Sombra’s chin to look at him with that mixture of abiding gratitude and deep frustration that always seems to follow heroes and protagonists in such situations. “This isn’t the time for games. The children will need someone to guide them when they come into their own.”

“And they will have it,” Ambrosia said as he took the hoof and brought it low to kiss her horseshoe. Then he lunged forward, and his horn struck true. Bright red blood rippled along his horn and spread over his forehead as that gentle smile tore away in a triumphant sneer. “I will guide them to the grave, right after you.” His horn surged with the power he had kept so long in check as he flooded his magic through the mare’s body from the very heart he had pierced. Miasma seeped from his eyes as his irises turned scarlet and glowed with the surrounding green. Black crystal seeped and burst from the queen’s body as she gaped in utter disbelief at the sudden and unexpected betrayal.

Sombra laughed as the queen’s power ebbed with her life force, having cut off all avenues to conjure any form of magic against him. As the black crystal consumed the mare’s chest, he tore his horn free with a sickening sucking scrape. What emerged was not the familiar spiral of the noble Unicorn, but rather a sharp curved protrusion designed to impale and to kill. Instead of gray, it seemed the blood had permanently dyed its surface, leaving an ominous red, the badge of his dreadful deed. The laughter rose to manic proportions as he watched the light fading from those shocked orbs.

“Your power is mine now.” Blood dripped to the floor as dark miasma flooded from the queen’s mouth and eyes to be sucked into the increasingly darker stallion’s body. Black magic surged from his horn and lashed out over the room to strike the walls, the stairwell, and the door, infecting the once-bright structures with his taint and twisting them with his jagged will. “What better source of darkness than a broken heart?” He drew up to the queen and kissed her in a last mocking gesture as the crystal consumed her completely. “And what is the heart of a kingdom?” He sneered and stomped his hoof on the floor. Massive black crystal formations converged on the queen and shattered her corpse. “Its queen.” With that last sickening act complete, Sombra could feel the power of the mantle passing over him, the sense of control, the power to direct his power into the very streets, the very hearts and minds of the pathetic citizenry, even as Blood Diamond once had.

Diamonds shatter, but shadows never die.

“The queen is dead,” Ambrosia said as he licked a trickle of blood from his fur and his teeth sharpened in response to the taste. His mane flared and floated behind him in a profane imitation of the princesses and his former ruler. But instead of light or color, there was only blackness that spread in sideburns along his muzzle and down the bridge of his nose in mimicry of a demented helmet. From the remnants of the queen’s corpse, his will forced the shards together and compacted them until they shone silver. Jagged pieces were polished and transitioned to mimic twin horns on either side of the band, and a third piece slowly emerged according to his will with blood red horns couching a polished silvery jewel.

The newly forged circlet rose above his head and descended slowly. The only witness to his coronation lay within the shadows of his heart. It was an empty and lonely affair. But that didn’t matter to this newly born Pony of darkness. He would not be alone for long. And those who did not accept his rule would learn the consequences of their folly. His voice deepened as he laughed and fired his magic into the crystal above the door to the teleportation circle, lacing it with fear and his own insidious will. The other fools would have either joined his thralls or been consumed by the trap he had laid in the circle’s enchantment. At this point, he didn’t care. What better way to avoid the weakness of love than to destroy one’s own heart? He laughed as the room was cast in darkness, leaving only his glowing eyes and horn as he continued his evil work.

“Long live King Sombra!”

---

Pensword wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious. The first thing he was aware of was the pain. Spasms of electrical signals throbbed with every heartbeat as he hissed in pain. There was no infirmary here, no comfort or friendly faces; only the cold feeling of hard crystal causing his bones to ache from extended exposure to the surface. The creatures that stood guard on either side of him looked more akin to golems than Ponies as the dark crystal that had so deeply ingrained itself into their beings slowly took over their organic halves. Green eyes glowed dully and blankly with no sign of pupil or iris. Sharp polished horns curved from their heads as they waited. The room felt cold and bleak, almost oppressive as the Pegasus peered over his surroundings. Everything seemed tinged by a curious sort of twilight, like he was laying in the midst of a black mist.

For all intents and purposes, Pensword was alone. And yet, he did not feel alone. Something was watching, waiting, and it was hungry, almost impatient in its silent vigil. Was that Sombra? Was the treacherous stallion somehow concealing himself in the room, waiting for Pensword to break? It was too soon to say. He didn’t even know how long he had been unconscious. Still, logic dictated that Sombra couldn’t have won yet. The creature would have lorded the fact over Pensword’s head if he had. No, it couldn’t have been a significant period of time.

A pang of guilt and anxiety stabbed at Pensword’s chest as he came to a second trail of deduction. If Sombra saw fit to try to control him, then that meant the foals wouldn’t have a protector. They could well be in danger; or worse, in that mad Pony’s clutches.

He had to save the foals. But how? Even as he rose, the jingle of chains drew him toward black fetters tied to each hoof. Sombra wasn’t foolish enough to leave things to chance. And that made the Pegasus’ urgency all the more pressing.

Attempts to force his restraints led only to further pain as he became aware of a sticky red substance that had smeared on his coat. The rusty tang of blood hovered in his nostrils, even as he bent his neck in an effort to get a better look at the locks that held him in place. Muzzle met chain, and he began to bash the two restraints together as best he could.

After a few minutes, it was evident how futile the attempt was. Much like his armor, the chains were made of a crystalline substance that was as hard and durable as steel. The muzzle that was his gag refused to budge, and the blows left the front of his muzzle throbbing. Cracking his restraints against the floor yielded no better result and sent more pain through his body as the blade of the dagger vibrated and cut against tense muscle.

Pensword hissed in pain, but waited patiently. There was little more to be done. Sombra would doubtless come eventually. And when he did, Pensword would be waiting for him with wings at the ready. He couldn’t kill, but nothing said he couldn’t maim the traitor. The thought of that was oddly comforting in the drab twilight.

At last, a door came open. But instead of the expected Pony of shadows he had come to know in the present, Pensword was shocked to see Star Swirl the Bearded. The stallion looked within the room, even as he gazed over a small bowl of water that suspended what appeared to be a needle. Strangely enough, the guards didn’t even attempt to act. They remained stalwart as statues as they gazed blankly ahead.

Star Swirl frowned and turned back toward the door. Pensword raised his voice to cry out, but again was thwarted by his gag. Tears welled in his eyes at the sight of the Unicorn disappearing. If Star Swirl couldn’t find him, there was little hope of the others doing so either. He turned his head aside, determined not to let his captors see the tears fall as the door shut behind the elderly stallion. leaving Pensword alone once again with his jailors and his bitterness.

That is, until he wasn’t.

The door burst off its hinges and flew toward the opposing wall as Star Swirl charged into the room. In a matter of moments, the twilight was shattered by piercing white light that blazed indignantly from the Unicorn’s horn. Righteous fury burned in the sorcerer’s eyes as he lashed out with his power. The guards didn’t stand a chance. Whether their controlled state rendered them without will or they simply didn’t have the capacity to act for themselves was uncertain. Regardless, there was no chance for a counterattack to be mounted. Both guards smoked as they lay lifelessly on the ground.

Pensword stared at the sight, even as Star Swirl came to dispel the magic that had been used to craft the Pegasus’ restraints. Lastly, he glared distastefully at the knife. “This is going to hurt,” he warned, then yanked the dagger out with his magic. Pensword yelled and exulted in the fact that he could actually speak again, even if it was in the form of an expression of pain. Heat still burned at the site of the attack, but the work of the elderly stallion was that of an old hand. Blood staunched. Muscle and sinew knit together. And finally, hide covered the wound, leaving a scar beneath Pensword’s dark fur coat as Star Swirl got to work.

“Come, Pensword. Hurry!” Star Swirl urged. “There’s not a moment to lose!”

“Star Swirl, what…?”

“There’s no time for questions. Get a move on, colt!” he ordered. “Or do you want your villain to reach the foals first?”

That gave Pensword the strength he needed and the urgency to take to his hooves. “Let’s go,” he said grimly.

Star Swirl nodded as they ran. “I think it’s nearly time for us to put our plan into motion.”

---

Grif had been out for a few hours now, knocking on doors and discreetly sending messages as he tried to stay as low key as possible. If all went as planned, he was to be the last to arrive at the room, though there was a worrying development in that more than a third of those loyal to the queen had been … compromised. He’d managed to get those he could, but he’d had to kill three more corrupted Ponies in the process. He knocked carefully on the door to the room as he triple-checked he wasn’t being tailed.

“Who is it?” Hammer Strike asked.

“Attila,” Grif said quietly.

He could hear Hammer Strike sigh as he opened the door. “All right.”

Grif opened the door and came through looking at the assembled faces. “That's … everyone.” He looked at hamer strike.

“Great.” Hammer Strike frowned before turning to the soldiers behind him. “All right. To those gathered, I have something of utmost importance to alert you all to.” He turned fully in their direction. “I have gone through and selected your group alongside Star Swirl for something approaching, and as of this moment, things have already begun.”

“Begging your pardon, Lord Hammer Strike, but … what exactly is this thing that’s approaching? Is it supposed to be some sort of threat?”

“Dark magic. In particular, an individual calling upon it. Normally, Star Swirl would have been able to prepare for such things. This time, however, it happened quite suddenly. As of this moment, I can confirm that a number of your allies have been converted to this enemy’s side without you even knowing it.”

A low murmur of disbelief began to carry through the room as Hammer Strike strode casually toward the entrance to the bathroom. That soon turned to gasps, however, when he pulled open the door.

“The reason I can confirm this is that if you look at the three corpses in the bathroom, you can see the solidified dark magic in the form of dark crystals overtaking parts of their bodies. This is how their wills have been supplanted and how our enemy is able to control them like puppets.”

Some guards retched. Others looked to the Earth Pony with grave expressions.

“The queen must be warned. If the crystal heart’s power can be invoked, then we can stop this threat before it gets too far,” one of the more seasoned of the guards said.

“Given we were already attacked as it is, they’ve clearly started their plans. At this point, it’s all but certain that our mastermind is Ambrosia.” Hammer Strike looked to the guard before him. “He wouldn’t have waited, and there is barely any chance of her being alive as of this moment.”

“The queen wouldn’t fall so easily,” one guard objected vehemently.

“Allow me to repeat myself. Ambrosia, a close family member and advisor, who has the capability of having a private conversation with her, is the one calling upon said dark magic.” Hammer Strike looked flatly to the guard in question. “Do you understand what I am telling you now?”

“Very likely, the queen is dead,” Grif said bluntly.

“If she was alive, Star Swirl would have been able to notify her of said possessed guards, and she would have already used that crystal heart to stop this.” Hammer Strike sighed. “You’re not getting saved by that heart. Some number of the guard have been turned, based off the fact that not everyone is here that were selected. And we have civilians all around us in this city that need protection. We lost the time to figure this all out. All we can do now is act upon the cards we’ve been dealt.”

“We are a very small number, Lord Hammer Strike. We will perform our duty, but if what you say is true, then there isn’t much we’ll be able to do against the rest of our fellow guardponies.”

“That’s why we’ve been preparing. Between myself and Star Swirl, we picked each of you for your skills and talents. If we cannot follow the system of the Crystal Empire, then we shall take its place and secure as much as we can. We shall find as many of your friends and allies as we can and push back against this growing force. I will not allow this place to fall to the hooves of Ambrosia.”

“And what of the people?”

“Thankfully, his corruption is only reaching the guard at this moment, meaning we can gather who we can and make a move on securing civilians. With our numbers as they are now, if we attempted to secure civilians now, while we could manage that, we would allow him to gather more forces against us. While I dislike this plan, it’s our best bet against him. We don’t have long before he takes over as many members of the guard as he can, after which he may move to civilians. We need to act as soon as possible.”

“An overt attack would be playing into his hands, then,” Critical Flaw mused. “Is there a way to tell those who are under his influence apart from those who are free?”

“Dark crystals are an obvious one, and a lack of free will. They won’t acknowledge you as a normal Pony would.”

“Is it possible for them to fake being normal?”

“I don’t think Ambrosia cares for the act. Once word gets out, there’s no point in trying to hide it.” Hammer Strike frowned. “His form of control has to be some form of suppressing free will. It’s the only thing that makes sense from what we’ve seen so far.”

Critical Flaw took a deep breath. “I hate to say it, but the question has to be asked. Do we need to kill them?”

“You can attempt to incapacitate them, but until Star Swirl can tell us otherwise, there may not be a way to save them within our reach.” Hammer Strike sighed. “I’m sorry, but that’s all I can give you for the time being. They will go for the kill, no matter what.”

“Then we will have to fight with equal ferocity. Do we know if any of the nobles were able to escape the palace?”

“Pensword and Star Swirl are currently working to secure the queen’s children as a priority, especially since Cadance is the heir to the empire. The crystal heart may respond to her, which makes her a target.”

“Not gonna lie.” Grif looked around. “This is going to be a shit show, but each of you swore an oath to the people of this empire, and it’s time to make good on those oaths.”

“Then we’ll do what we can,” one of the warriors said grimly. “Where do we rendezvous?”

“Near the mining yard. We’ll cover the location more when we get there,” Hammer Strike noted.

There wasn’t much more to be said. “Good luck, everyone,” one of the guards said, even as he strode out.

Critical Flaw trailed behind, his face contorted into a frown of concentration. “How did he do it?” he murmured.

---

Pensword raced as fast as his legs could carry him. His chest burned and heaved as his heart sucked the oxygen from his lungs faster than he could take it in. The clatter of his hooves over the floor of the hallway and his grim expression left more than a few guards jumping in surprise at his passing. One great, “Move!” was all it took for them to jump aside. And for those who wouldn’t, Star Swirl would stun them with his horn. Apologies could be given later. Lives were on the line.

“I’m only going to slow you down. You should fly to them,” Star Swirl puffed as they rounded yet another corner.

At this point, living up to the identity was moot. “I can’t,” Pensword returned. “I don’t know how.”

“What kind of idiot would make a land dweller into a flyer?”

“You got a problem with it, take it up with magic!” Pensword barked. “Now tell me which way!”

There were four guards standing outside the foals’ quarters. On the sight of the glowing horn and spread wings of the oncoming protectors, they turned resolutely and formed a wall in front of the door as they drew their swords with the chime of ringing crystal. Their eyes glowed that same blank green as their manes and tails turned an ugly black and their horseshoes seeped into the floor of the palace like roots. Their armor buckled as their bodies pulsed and their coats began to harden and thicken.

“Strike now, Pensword, while they’re still vulnerable!” Star Swirl cried. A black book hovered at his side as his eyes glowed a solid white. “Where light stampedes, the dark recedes!” A spectral white charger twice the stallion’s size and mass projected from his horn to sweep over the guards. The black crystal tying them to the palace shattered as they stumbled back. “Now!” he cried.

It was one thing to take the life of a Changeling. It was another to have to strike at a creature he would have called friend. It was not a task he relished, but it was one Pensword knew had to be done for the foals’ sakes. If Sombra made his move, then there was no one to activate the crystal heart anymore. At least, not as they currently were. And the elements of harmony, if they even existed at this point in time, were miles away in Equestria. Their influence would be of no help. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but close his eyes as he cut his sword over the first guard’s throat. A heavy blow to his hoof knocked the sword out of his grip and sent it skittering to the floor. This time, when Pensword opened his eyes, he beheld the gaze of a monster in the making. Flat teeth lengthened and sharpened as shadow wafted in miasma from the creature’s eyes, and strong hooves pushed inch by inch as he grappled with the foe, leading closer and closer toward his throat.

His wings flapped and flailed as he tried to use a burst of air to his advantage. The stallion held fast, however. And as the hooves reached the point where they could slide off of Pensword’s own and crush his throat, the act was done. A swift strike from both wings brushing on either side of the throat, then yanking sharply back.

Blood spurted as the flesh around the base of the neck yielded to the multitude of blades, each cutting a little deeper with their passing. The guard stared implaccably and uncomprehendingly as the blood drained. Its hooves fumbled as they struggled to squeeze Pensword’s throat, then dropped. The hindquarters followed, buckling as blood seeped all the faster with the assistance of gravity.

Pensword couldn’t help but stare. The ichor of Changelings was a different matter, more like the guts from an insect. This was not ichor. This was blood. And it had come from a sapient being that he had killed by his own hand. Or in this case, wings. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring before a set of hooves shook him. Instinct lashed out with reflexes, and his wing blades struck against something with a metallic scrape that ended with a high-pitched ringing.

Star Swirl the Bearded looked on the Pegasus, a grim expression on his face. The nimbus of his forcefield glowed over his body as he took in the stallion. “Focus on the foals, Pensword. Their safety is paramount. Do you understand?”

Pensword’s eyes wandered to the piles of ash and cracked crystal that were the remains of the other two guards. His gaze was yanked back to Star Swirl’s icy gaze.

“You are their protector, colt. And by Sleipnir’s beard, you’re going to do just that. There are children in danger. Snap out of it and get to work!”

Playful laughter. Gentle smiles. The pensive faces of those seeking to understand the future in terms that they were far from ready to comprehend. Pure, innocent, and kind. Another young face rose at those thoughts, a familiar little girl who he loved to spoil rotten. Would he hesitate if it were her?

Screams. Struggle. Just as when he had struck at Star Swirl, his body moved without thinking. The door crashed open under his assault. More blood greeted him. Two guards lay before a familiar pink Pegasus whose fur was a little too dark a shade in some places. A sword was buried in one of the corpse’s chests. The third one had its sword drawn, and was about to strike at a trembling blue colt who pushed a smaller yellow filly behind him as tears spilled down his cheeks.

Alto wailed as the blade hovered at its zenith. “Cosy!”

“NO!” Pensword roared. In an instant, he was there. Cracks spread from the wall where he’d pinned the guard. His wings flared as he used all his mass to hold the stallion at bay. There was no other weapon at hand. The moment he stopped beating his wings, he would be thrust back. He knew it. His weapon lay in the hallway, and the guard’s sword lay back where his momentum had forced it from the would-be-assassin’s hoof.

An old comic book came to mind, a secret service agent tasked with protecting the government from terrorists, forced to face her own mentor to protect the peace. The strongest muscle….

Pensword didn’t stop to think. He knew that if he did, he’d lose the nerve. He opened his mouth and snapped it closed over the guard’s exposed throat.

Pensword’s teeth were not those of an omnivore, nor were they those of a predator. They were herbivorous, as was to be expected of a Pony. As such, they weren’t designed to rip and tear. They were designed to crush. And crush, they did. There was a sickeningly audible crunch that sounded through his ears as he felt the stallion’s windpipe collapse under the pressure.

He thrust himself away from the guard as it dropped to the floor. Even unable to breathe, it still posed a threat until the air in its lungs depleted. Had he really gone so far as to consider these victims as less than people? A set of magical chains soon resolved the former issue as Star Swirl conjured the restraints and fashioned them out of light to bind the guard in place.

Shame burned hot in Pensword’s chest and stomach as a bitter taste lingered in his mouth. “Is everyone all right?”

Cadance shook like a leaf as she clung to herself. Her wings latched tightly around her like a security blanket. Her teeth chattered, and her eyes were wide as her pupils expanded. Her gaze was still riveted on the sword embedded into what had once been one of their guards, and the blood that had flowed from that fatal wound.

Pensword did his best to wipe the blood from his fur, then crouched in front of the mare, cutting off her view of the corpse. “Cadance?” he asked gently as he ran a hoof through her mane, then stroked her feathers. “Cadance, can you hear me? It’s going to be all right. You’re safe now.”

“Cady?” Yong Bellacosa strode up to the filly and placed a hoof on her cheek. “Sis?”

Alto wedged her way past the pair and shoved herself into the mare’s other side. Tears welled in Cadance’s eyes, and then the mare finally broke. It came in sobs at first. Then the water flowed hard and fast as the pink princess wailed out her terror. The touching moment was broken up, however, by a beam of light that burst into sparkles over the filly. Cadance’s eyes grew heavy as her sobs weakened, and she flopped onto the floor, asleep.

“What did you do that for?” Pensword snapped.

“As I said before, Pensword, time is of the essence. You can scold me after you get those foals out of the empire and safely into the princesses’ hooves.” He levitated Cadance onto Pensword’s back, then pulled the sword from the guard’s chest. He looked pointedly toward Cosy. “Is this your blade, colt?”

Cosy nodded slowly. “Mother had it sent to our room. She said it was an early present, since I was growing up so fast.”

“Does it come with armor?”

Cosy nodded slowly.

“Then I suggest you get it, child, and put it on. Your sisters need protecting. And while we will do our best to get you away from here, you still need to be ready for the worst. Can we trust you to do what needs to be done?”

Cosy nodded. “I won’t let anypony hurt my sisters.”

“Good lad.” He watched the foal bolt for a closet. When Cosy pulled it open, a mannequin was waiting for him, bearing a complete set of armor custom made for the young colt. Instead of the usual purple that all other crystal guards seemed to wear, this one was blue with hints of gold. There was no sign of a helmet, and there was no time to search for one as the colt hastily donned the pieces one at a time. At last, Cosy sped back to the pair and nodded grimly.

“Just a minute,” he said. His horn sparked, and a small teddy bear levitated over to Alto, who held it tightly before wrapping its arms around her neck. When the deed was done, Cosy nodded firmly. “Let’s go,” he said, doing his best to put on a brave face, even as he avoided looking at the bodies that lay on the floor.

“Indeed,” Star Swirl agreed.

And so the trio became a quintet, and they began their hasty departure.

---

Hammer Strike sighed as he peered through the exit of the cave once more. “There’s more converted than I had anticipated,” he remarked quietly. Once he was certain they weren’t followed, he made his way into the mines proper.

Grif looked on at the gathered ponies. They had the guards they had recruited. But aside from them, there was only a mess of scared ponies a hair's breadth away from full on hysteria. They had managed to secure some basic supplies. Food, medical reagents, and a handful of weapons.

In a few words, things were not good at all.

“What do we do?” someone asked in the crowd as ponies looked around for something, anything to give them hope that their life wasn’t crumbling around them.

“What do you do?” Grif asked. When his voice was swallowed by the crowd, he took a deep breath and bellowed out what he’d said. The noise stopped as ponies turned to him. A few small murmurs amongst the crowd was all he heard as he looked them over.

“What do you do? This is the question you choose to ask right now? What do you do?” he looked around.

“Well what do we do?” someone asked.

Grif glared into the crowd. “What do you do? Sombra has murdered your queen, taken your homes and loved ones, and destroyed your way of life; and you ask what you do? What does anyone do to defend themselves? You fight!”

“Fight? But he has soldiers. He’s even taken control of the noble houses!” someone threw back. “We’d be killed.”

“So it’s better to be enslaved?” Grif asked. “Because that's what will happen, you know. It’s happening now to others. Life under the whip and the lash, bound forcibly to the goals of someone else! You cannot simply ask them to stop. You cannot expect that this usurper, this foe, this Sombra will step back just because you point out the injustice in his plan. You want to reclaim what's yours? Then fight. Stand for yourself and declare to him brazenly, ‘No More!’” Grif unsheathed one of his swords and held it aloft.

“Are you seriously suggesting we fight him head on?” someone in the crowd asked.

“Not every battle needs to be fought on a battlefield. And not every war is won in the public eye.” The sword waved across the room as he passed it over the heads of his audience. “You all know me. I fought for Equestria behind enemy lines during the Third Gryphon War. We Gryphons have a word for such tactics: Guerilla. I can teach these same tactics to you. Fight with me, and we will free this land together. Stand beside me and we will tell the tyrant that he won’t go unanswered. Fight with me!” Grif looked around the crowd. “So that no Crystal Pony need fear a life of slavery.” His eyes flashed with resolve as the intensity of his gaze increased. “Death is easy, and freedom is costly. I’d pay that price myself, but I cannot do it alone. And so I call you now, as I called creatures of every race and kindred in a time when our worlds were on the brink of absolute upheaval. Fight with me! For the love of your nation, the love of your people, and the love of your queen. She dedicated her whole life for you. Now is the time to follow that example. As Blood Diamond once told me and my lord Hammer Strike, love has many forms. The time for peaceful and gentle love is past. Now is the time for the love born of a hardened resolve that spurns action. Let me teach you to harness that love for more than channeling into an artifact, so that this evil will never be perpetrated upon your soil again!”

The cavern was silent for a time as the Gryphon’s strident voice bounded off the walls, ringing through the crystals with its rallying cry before fading into the depths beyond. Most of the Ponies averted their gaze. The guards watched grimly as they waited. Finally, one Crystal Pony moved forward hesitantly. “Do you really think we stand a chance?” he asked hoarsely.

“Yes,” Grif said firmly. “I think we stand a very good chance.”

“I can figure out their weak points and help with techniques for combating them,” Hammer Strike spoke up as he arrived at the hideout.

“And we will provide the experience and the training to temper what Sir Grif teaches with wisdom and sound strategy to disrupt the usurper’s chain of command,” one of the officers said. “This villain will be punished for his crimes. That is our oath, and we will uphold it to our last breath.”

“Keep that fire burning.” Hammer Strike looked over those gathered. “Determination will keep your momentum.”

“And hope will strengthen the blaze.” From the shadows beyond the entrance, Star Swirl approached. “While I take no particular enjoyment in games, I will say this much to ease your minds, Hammer Strike, Grif.” He cleared his throat. “Attila sent me.”

Hammer Strike nodded. “Status of Pensword and the children?”

“So far as I am aware, safely departed. As I’ve said before, our enemy is not the only one who is well versed in spellcraft. The bloodline is safe. Now it is our duty to ensure that they have a home to return to when reinforcements arrive. With our combined talents and Grif’s unconventional tactics, I am confident that we will succeed.”

“All right.” Hammer Strike hummed in thought. “Then we have some work to do. I’ll see to figuring out what materials this mine can provide.”

---

Forging a path through the frigid winter tundra is a difficult task, even in the best of weather conditions. Pensword and the foals were not so lucky. As a Pegasus, the stallion was built for cold weather conditions due to the higher altitudes in which his species would have to fly, as was Cadance. But the same could not be said for Cosy and Alto, both of whom were currently busy shivering on the two older ponies’ backs. The one guiding light the party had to follow was the projection Star Swirl had embedded into Pensword’s helmet, and Pensword followed the orientation of his holographic compass dutifully.

Cadance had recovered enough of her wits to walk again, though she didn’t speak much, and her face was still downcast.

“Did you want to talk about it?” Pensword called over the winds.

Cadance shook her head vigorously. “I don’t even want to think about it!” she called back.

Pensword sighed. “Easier said than done, Princess,” he said softly to himself. Even as he raised one wing to try to give Cosy some cover, he drew closer to Cadance and draped his other wing over the pink mare’s back to give a layer of protection against the brutality of the tundra.

Cadance didn’t open up. But she did lean closer into the stallion’s body as they waded on.

“How much longer?” Alto sniffled and whimpered as she wiped at the icicles that were forming by her nostrils. Her soft form trembled as her teeth chattered.

“We still have a way to go yet,” Pensword reported grimly. “We can’t risk a teleportation, even if the two of you had enough power to do it. And flight is out of the question for me. At most, Cadance can only carry one of you. Even then, I don’t know if she’d be able to fly at the same time.”

“I’m tired, Pensword,” Cosy said.

“Then you need to get down,” Pensword said.

“Again?”

“The cold has a way of seeping into the blood at these temperatures, Cosy. Even Crystal Ponies need to be careful. If you fall asleep in the tundra, you stay asleep. We can’t let that happen.” He sighed and shook his head. “I know you want to rest. And we will. I promise. But we have to reach the shelter first. Then we can enjoy some proper warmth and a bed for you all to sleep on.” He reached behind him and nosed the colt gently.

“Promise?” Cosy asked through watery eyes and creaking voice.

“I promise,” Pensword assured. “We made it through the gate, after all. We’ll make it through this stretch of our adventure, too. Think of it like a quest, just like a knight. A special mission just for us.”

“What if we can’t make it?” Cosy asked. His voice quavered, whether out of fear or the cold could not be known.

“We focus on what we can do until we make it.”

The snow crunched under their hooves as they struck out following the trail Pensword broke for them.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean if you can’t make it to the finish line, make it just one more step. One by one, trot by trot, piece by piece. Every inch you gain is a victory. Every movement, a choice that draws you one step closer to your goal on the battlefield. We can’t change everything, but we can do our best. We can make an effort and keep trying. That is what will ultimately decide whether you win or lose. Will you follow through or freeze? I choose to follow through and keep carrying on.”

“Even when it hurts?” Cosy asked.

“Especially when it hurts, Cosy. Especially when it hurts. That’s when it’s most important. It helps to think of what keeps you moving. For me, it’s the people I love. The ones who are with me, the ones I’ve had to leave behind, and the ones I may never see again. I think of them, and I can almost hear them urging me to keep moving forward.” He shoved bodily through a particularly large drift and grunted as the brisk chill seeped into the metal of his armor. “And that’s exactly what I intend to do.” He leaned down and took some bites from the fresh snow to wet his mouth. “No more talking for now. We need to conserve our strength. I’ll let you know when we get there. And I promise you, all of you. We will get there.”

“I hope so,” Cadance whispered softly.

There wasn’t anything more to be said after that. They pushed on, ever looking for that motivation to take that one step closer.

And so they advanced.

---

Hammer Strike frowned as he scanned over the materials he was able to gather deeper within the mine. It was a mixture of resources, and it left him wondering why the mine was left if it was still this rich in deposits. He would, however, need to locate tools if he wanted to perform maintenance on their equipment, meaning they would have to find something, most likely within the castle.

“How are we looking?” Grif asked as he approached.

“We’ve got materials. Plenty, in fact. The only issue now is tools. I can probably make a forge down here, albeit nothing in comparison to the ones I used for our equipment, but it would be a starting ground for maintenance.” Hammer Strike sighed. “Beyond that, we’ve got other issues to deal with.”

“Yeah, like how we’re going to lead a rebellion.” Grif sighed. “Why the hell did I open my mouth?”

“We knew this was coming, so it was only a matter of time.” He turned his attention to Grif. “Right now, Pensword is out, and should be making contact with Equestria, meaning we’ve got to do what we can in here to help, however possible. One issue we’ve got is the walls.”

“Well, I mean, they don’t exist in the present from what we saw,” Grif noted.

“Which leads to the question of what brought them down.” Hammer Strike turned back towards his resources. “I mean, we may be able to assist the Equestrian forces by perhaps taking down one wall, but that will take some time to prepare. I’ve found the substances we would need to make an explosive powder, but it would only be potent enough for that if we both get a cart's worth and find the right point in the wall to use the payload on.”

“I mean, we could launch attacks in areas far enough away to keep their attention away from the team setting the explosives.”

“We’ll also need to divert some of our numbers to collecting this stuff.”

“I think we’ll need to split our entire group into four.”

“Maybe. Though we have to worry about spreading our numbers thin.”

“Well, we can mitigate that by putting people we can’t use in combat into the support roles.”

“Of course, but that’ll mainly be when we secure more civilians. Right now, we’ve got a number of the guard.” He frowned. “I’ll figure it out. Just give me some time to think over how each of them work.”

“Just be careful. They’ll start panicking again if we wait too long.”

“No, they won’t,” Star Swirl said as he entered the small cave that had become the temporary war room. “They trust in your leadership, and my counsel still holds weight, however diminished it may be. So long as we are able to implement a proper plan, we will find success. The primary order, aside from securing a steady supply of food and water, is to begin training our forces.”

“Thankfully, they have the basics down,” Hammer Strike replied with a shrug. “Food and water will definitely take some effort, but we should be capable of getting a steady supply. Beyond that, is as you mentioned, the plan.” He rubbed at his forehead. “I’ve got the layout of the city down, and with that, we might be able to figure out the concentration of troops and locations of value to work around, but I need more information to work on to make a concrete plan.”

“I should be able to help there with charms and illusion magic, but we’ll still need someone skilled in stealth to be an effective means of gathering that information,” Star Swirl said as he looked to Grif. “As I recall, that was supposed to be your area of expertise. Or at least your namesake’s.”

“I’ll work it out,” Grif said. “I have some ideas.”

“I’ll offer any contingencies I can, should you need something to offer a distraction for a getaway,” Star Swirl promised.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Grif said. “The problem here is more that guerilla warfare isn’t sustainable by any means.”

“You have a fair point,” Star Swirl mused. “I’ve seen enough of the technology the Crystal Ponies developed to know that they could eventually create a device that would allow them to see through any illusions or means we might come up with for concealment. But if what you have said is true, then we don’t need the tactics to last long. We just have to hold out long enough for reinforcements to arrive.”

“How long will it take Equestria to mobilize?”

“That depends on the princesses. As you know, Luna is the more warlike of the sisters. She will likely have her forces prepared sooner. But given the time since the war ended, it is likely that both have their forces relatively prepared to mobilize. The journey to the empire itself, however, will certainly take time without a proper means of conveyance. Flyers will reach here sooner, but the ground forces will take two weeks at the very least, possibly longer.”

“Okay,” Grif said, nodding. “We’re going to have to be careful with this. Planning’s going to be our only advantage here.”

“Particularly given the nature of our foe. In a cavern beneath the earth, darkness is a natural element. And wardings would only serve to give our enemy a marker to seek us out unless they were distributed across the whole cave system.”

“The mines here are surprisingly vast, so you may be able to manage that,” Hammer Strike spoke up from his thoughts. “There’s more space down here than we initially anticipated.”

“If I do this, it will need to be done over time and in random locations first. Otherwise, our enemy may be able to pick out our location,” Star Swirl replied.

“If you can manage that, it would aid in keeping ourselves hidden.”

“It will take time, but I’ll do what I can. In the meantime, taking action to hide our base naturally would be a safe choice. You are a genius crafter. I don’t doubt that you will be able to devise a means to conceal any entrances and exits we use.”

“My legend dictates I’m a genius crafter.” Hammer Strike frowned. “Sure, I’ve got some methods in my head I could use, but I don’t think I quite match up to … myself.” He gestured to his body.

“One cannot know until one tries. And for now, trying is all we can do.”

“I’ll … see what I can think of. Using some blockades, I may be able to replicate the abandoned designs around, or, depending on what we can find in the cave, I may be able to create a false cave near the entrance.”

“I’m going to give it two days, and then I'm going to head out and scout around, see if I can understand the potential layout,” Grif noted.

“And work to train our resistance fighters in the meantime, I assume?” Star Swirl asked.

“Before I can train them, I need information,” Grif said. “Information I’ll need to get myself.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it in time. For now, we’ve got work we can do until then.” Hammer Strike frowned. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll need to go about figuring out our cover and equipment.”

“And I’ll see to recruiting Unicorns for spellcrafting, assuming we have any competent magic users in our ranks,” Star Swirl said. “Until we meet again, gentlecolts. Good luck.”

“And godspeed.” Grif nodded.

---

The wind was frigid, and the spatter of snowflakes dug like tiny daggers seeking whatever sensitive pieces of anatomy they could find. And just like sand, they knew how to whip into all the places that can’t easily be reached. By now, the march had turned into an almost desperate dragging. The only guide they had was the light that emanated from Pensword’s helmet as Star Swirl’s projection pointed them ever onward. The whiteout mixed with dusk as the temperature continued to drop, making their situation all the more dangerous.

To conserve warmth, Pensword and Cadance each took breaks to wrap their wings around the other two foals and share what they could. This was not the playful fields for a snowball fight, where mighty forts could be raised and fall in time for a warm cup of cocoa or cider by the fire. This was a far more dangerous battle, and this party was playing for keeps.

There was no talking now. They hadn’t the energy for it. And even if they did, it would simply give the biting cold another opening to sink into their bodies and leech away the warmth that was their life. On more than one occasion, the two younger foals bit their lips and struggled not to cry in the face of their adversity. They all knew the alternatives to their situation, and that was perhaps the most horrifying part of the experience. That, and the ever-growing temptation to let those memories freeze in the cold. After all, the hurtful scenes can’t play over if they’re trapped in ice. And they would find rest at last in the snow’s comforting embrace.

So deeply engaged in this battle of wills was he that Pensword didn’t even recognize the cliff face. Or perhaps it would be better to say that it was too obscured by the lashing white and the encroaching darkness. True to form, Celestia’s sun had dropped to the horizon, with only the barest embers to guide their way through.

Pensword was so tired that he hardly even felt the pain of the impact as metal clanked against stone. Cadance could barely raise her head as she turned to look at Pensword.

“Did we … make it?”

The projection pulsed brightly over the rock face, catching the ice crystals that had formed a thin layer over the surface.

“I … think so,” Pensword said. His voice dragged with a curious blend of exhaustion, relief, and disbelief. “We just … need to find the entrance.” He mustered the strength to flash an encouraging smile toward the mare. “It should respond to you as a member of the royal family.”

“And then we can rest?” Cosy asked.

“And warm ourselves while we call for help,” Pensword acknowledged.

Hope is an infectious thing, and the assurance of the end to their struggle soon brought that warmth to each of their faces. It didn’t take long to find the escape hatch, though hatch was a loose term. It was more akin to a portal, and its surface yielded to Cadance’s touch, granting entry into a crystal corridor lined with jutting surfaces polished to a reflective sheen so that one couldn’t tell where the ice ended and the crystals began. Their hoofsteps echoed through the corridor as they trekked down a subtle decline toward a heavy metal door with a crystal eye that scanned them with a broad ray of light.

“Identified: Three crystalline equines, one non-crystalline Pegasus. Please identify yourselves.”

“Uh, … hi. I’m Cosy?” the little blue Unicorn said.

“There is no ‘Cosy’ in my database. Access denied.”

“I think it needs your real names,” Pensword said, even as spots swam before his eyes.

Cadance sighed. “I guess I’ll go first.” She looked up at the eye. “I am Princess Mi Amore Cadenza.”

“Processing. Processing. Processing.” A small chime sounded. “Voice print verification confirmed. Mi Amore Cadenza, heir apparent. Welcome, Princess.”

“We’re really cold and tired. Can I just bring my brother, sister, and Pensword inside? You can trust them.”

The eye flickered. “Processing.... Processing….” It dinged. “Command received. Parameters updated. Welcome, Crown Princess and guests.” A loud hiss of air carried through the chamber as a vacuum seal broke, followed by the shifting of a portion of the crystal wall to reveal the interior of a wardrobe. One step through the coats and a weak shove led them into a spacious bed chamber laden with enough beds to house a small garrison. A great master bed shaped like a heart sat luxuriantly in the space to their right.

“Beds!” Cosy cheered.

Pensword smiled weakly. “Yes. Beds.”

Warmth seeped from the floor into their horseshoes and hooves, and light pulsed gently from crystalline fixtures.

“At the queen’s order, this safehouse has been activated for use by the royal family and court under the Scattered Winds Protocol. Please, make use of the amenities as much as you need. When you are properly rested, I will guide you through the process of contacting the Equestrian Diarchy, Your Highness.”

“Um, … Thank you, … what do I call you?”

“Though my programming is overseen by a higher ranked code, you may call this program CAPS. It stands for Crown Automatic Protection System. Your safety and preservation are my number one priority. To that end, please disrobe and take to bed. Your scans indicate various stages of hypothermia.

Pensword nodded gravely as he spoke into the air. “Thank you, CAPS. I’ll see the children get to bed.”

“You are their guard?”

“An ally from Equestria. I am called Pensword.”

“Acknowledged. Pensword, please place the foals in the royal bed. My analysis of their past behaviors indicate that they sleep better when together, and their combined body heat will hasten their recovery.”

Pensword hastened to follow the voice’s instruction. However, when he finally turned to take one of the other beds, he found himself caught in the magical grasp of two young Unicorns and the physical grasp of one Pegasus mare.

“Stay with us. Please?” Cadance asked.

Three pairs of adorable and vulnerable eyes fixed him with the devastating effect of their full power unleashed. And like any sensible adult whose senses and resistance had been worn down by hardship and trial, he took the path of least resistance.

“Very well.”

The bed was soft, and the mattress seemed almost to conform to his body as he settled in, the three foals holding tightly to his frame as he wrapped his wings around them and pulled the covers up tight.

“Good night, children,” he said softly and nuzzled each of them gently. “You did it.”

“We did it,” Cadance murmured sleepily.

Pensword smiled as he watched those tired eyes close and heard the deep breaths of those who sleep has taken firmly in its grasp. “Yes, we did,” he agreed. “Yes, we did.” For now, their mission had been accomplished. The foals were safe, and he would need his wits about him to speak with whoever he contacted in Equestria. But that could wait until tomorrow. For now, it was time to sleep. He willingly let the darkness encroach, safe in the comfort the warmth and softness provided.

---

Morning, or what Pensword assumed to be morning, greeted them much the same as the night had. Gentle light pulsed from the crystal sconces as the Pegasus stared at the ceiling. At first, he didn’t know where he was. It felt more like a dream than reality. But then the full weight of the situation came crashing down on him. The empire, the time travel, the betrayal. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked frantically over the bed to count the foals like a mother hen would her chicks. Only when he had confirmed all three foals were still safe and sound did he breathe a sigh of relief.

A few moments later, he finally registered what had roused him from his slumber as the scent of rich broth wafted into his now-flaring nostrils. Soup. Honest to goodness soup. The comforter, bane to cold and bad moods alike.

“Greetings, Ally Pensword. I deduced that along with the need for warmth, you and the foals also require hydration and nourishment. As such, I took the liberty of preparing a vegetable soup for your consumption.”

Cosy grumbled and groaned as the other foals began to stir with him. However, growling stomachs soon overcame any disgruntlement over being pulled from sleep, and the foals ate heartily. While the rigors of their recent ordeals had not entirety left them, the joy at their survival helped to buoy their spirits. And with that boost came the motivation to contact the princesses. With that in mind, they each donned their respective garbs in preparation for the event.

“I strongly advise you to allow Ally Pensword to utilize the communication crystal,” CAPS said. “As an ally of Equestria, the princesses are more likely to listen to what he has to say, particularly considering where you will be calling from. I would also recommend attempting to reach Princess Luna. Records indicate that she is more combat oriented and will likely be better prepared to mobilize for the empire’s sake.”

“Is that really the right thing to do?” Cadance asked.

“My calculations indicate it will have the highest chance of success.”

Cadance sighed. “All right.”

“You just wanna talk to Princess Luna yourself,” Cosy accused playfully.

“Nuh-uh!” Cadance blushed.

“Don’t you, too, Cosy?” Alto asked.

“Of course.” Cosy grinned. “Mother said Princess Luna was going to teach me how to use my sword.” Then the smile faltered as the memory of his actions the previous day slammed him in the face.

“Let’s take things one step at a time, hmm?” Pensword suggested as he patted Cosy gently on the head. “Where is this crystal communication system, and how do I access it?” he asked.

“Deploying communications array now.” A pillar grew from the floor in the hall until it became a proper pedestal. From that pedestal, a clear crystal sphere took shape. It pulsed gently at first, then projected a light over the room. “Ally Pensword, please approach the console and request the contact you wish to make. The crystal will react and seek out the holder you wish to call, provided they have a sister crystal connected to the network.”

Pensword did as he was bidden and laid a hoof tentatively on the pillar. “Uh, … call Princess Luna?”

The crystal sphere pulsed blue as silver light glowed gently around it. The air overhead became a sea of stars to replace the artificial ceiling, and a rapidly shifting moon appeared overhead, transitioning through all its phases in a timed cycle while the magic worked to reach out.

“Yes? Is this contraption working? Hello?” Luna's voice came through, followed shortly by the shape of her head clearly shown above in the faux night sky.

“Princess.” Pensword sighed with relief. “Thank goodness we made it through.”

There was a silence after Pensword spoke. “That voice…. Is that you, Commander Pensword?”

Commander? Now that was something he hadn’t expected to hear. It was one thing to look like the heroes. It was another to be mistaken for one by voice. Pensword shook his head quickly. Another problem for another time. “I don’t know about Commander, but I am Pensword, and we don’t have time for questions. Princess Luna, we’re, … I’m sorry to be the messenger, but Blood Diamond couldn’t be here in person to say it herself. She … she placed her children in my care. The Scattered Wind Protocol has been activated. The empire has been overrun by a hostile force. The Crystal Ponies need Equestria’s help.”

Pensword was surprised to see Luna wince. It was as though she had suddenly taken a great blow. It lasted only for a few moments before she forced herself into a more neutral expression. “I … I see. You’ve done well, as always, my friend. What can you tell me personally about the situation?”

“An entity who calls himself King Sombra has taken control by force through use of dark arts with a heavy emphasis on corruption and enslavement. I would still have remained in his clutches, were it not for the swift and decisive action on the part of Star Swirl the Bearded. So far as I am aware, Hammer Strike and Grif are still alive, though I doubt they remain in the empire proper. It’s likely they’ve followed our plan to take shelter with as many civilians as possible until reinforcements can arrive.”

“You three never change,” Luna said as she smiled sadly and shook her head. “We already began mobilizing once the flow of magic from the north stopped, but I can’t be sure when we’ll reach you. You need to keep the royal heirs and the civilians safe until then.”

“I’m sure we’ll each do our best, Princess,” Pensword said. “The sooner we can get the foals safely away, the better, though.”

“Hi, Aunt Luna!” Cosy waved wildly in his armor and smiled up at the projection.

“Hello, Bellacosa.” Luna waved back and smiled gently. “I’m glad to see you’re safe.”

“Pensword’s been great! He saved us!”

“I look forward to hearing the tale when we arrive. Listen to Pensword. And should the situation allow, Grif and Hammer Strike. They will keep you safe.”

Cosy nodded. “We promise!”

“Until next time, Princess. May it be when war and blood needn’t interfere,” Pensword said with a sad smile.

“I look forward to the day.” Luna nodded. “Fare well.” And with that said, she winked out of existence. However, while the stars and moon dissipated, the darkness seemed only to grow thicker from the projection.

“W-w-w-WARn-ing-ing-ing! Unauthorized connection DETECTED.

With the ominous dropping of CAPS’ voice came the sound of detonating crystal as, one by one, the sconces burst into writhing green flames tinged with white and purple. Wherever they licked, veins of dark crystal began to stretch like poisonous roots through the chamber’s walls and toward the floor and ceiling. A wicked and exultant laughter carried through the air.

“Greetings, foolish royals! If you are hearing this message, then you’ve managed to survive. I must congratulate you for your resourcefulness. However, all good things must inevitably come to an end to make room for the better things to come. Doubtless, you already see the fruits of the little gift I left behind for you all. It might kill you. Or it might make you an asset in my new empire. Frankly, I don’t care which. All that matters is that you are no longer a threat to me. DARK, fulfill your program and ensure our guests can’t escape, won’t you?”

“YES, KING SOMBRA. VERBAL COMMAND ACKNOWLEDGED. SYSTEM PROGRAM: DESTROY ALL REMAINING KIN IS FULLY OPERATIONAL. PRIORITY ONE: DENY ALL ROUTES OF ESCAPE.” A massive stalagmite surged from the floor to shatter the wardrobe and block the exit. A heavy crash sounded from beyond their chamber, and the door buckled before breaking open to allow more of those dark tendrils of jutting crystal to creep and grow in wicked razor points.

The foals screamed, and Pensword ran to snatch Alto with his teeth. He quickly flipped her onto his back, then pulled Cadance with him toward the center of the room as Cosy waved his sword uselessly in an attempt at bravado.

“L-l-leave us alone!”

“REQUEST DENIED. YOU HAVE BEEN DESIGNATED ENEMIES OF THE STATE. YOU WILL BE REHABILITATED INTO KING SOMBRA’S LOYAL CITIZENS. NONCOMPLIANCE IS NOT AN OPTION. YOU WILL CONFORM OR YOU WILL BE TERMINATED.”

“Pensword….” Alto clutched tightly to the stallion’s neck, her teddy pressed on the side as she trembled.

“It’s going to be all right, Alto,” Pensword assured. “We won’t die here. And we won’t obey Sombra either.” He raised his wings invitingly, and Cosy and Cadance ran to his side.

“I just wish it all would stop,” Cadance said as tears pattered to the floor.

“P-p-p-primary di-i-rective … protect … and serve … the c-c-crown. E-e-executing command.”

“CAPS?” Cadance asked.

A familiar blue light emanated from the ground surrounding Pensword and the foals, pulsing through the walls in the familiar patterns of circuitry as the energy flowed around the black tendrils, slowing their advance while the remainder of the energy gathered.

“FUTILE. ROGUE PROGRAM CAPS WILL SUBMIT TO QUARANTINE. ROGUE PROGRAM CAPS WILL CEDE TO ADMINISTRATOR CONTROL. OBEY KING SOMBRA.”

“E-e-emergency routing c-c-coooom-plete. C-c-crystal h-h-heart reserves … activated. L-l-long … live … the … queeeennn….”

“INCORRECT: QUEEN BLOOD DIAMOND IS DEAD. THERE IS NO QUEEN. QUARANTINE SUCCESSFUL. TERMINATING ROGUE PROGRAM.”

“M-mother…?” Cadance’s eyes grew wide at the callous dismissal and brutal delivery of the news. She shook her head violently as her voice began to tremble. “No. She can’t be gone.” The black roots began to grow out from the ground in spears to avoid the patches of light on the ground. “She can’t be. Mother said … Mother is love. And she said love never dies.”

“Cady….” Pensword said consolingly.

“She’s not dead. She’s not dead. SHE’S NOT DEAD!”

“WARNING: ROYAL MAGICAL SIGNATURE DETECTED. THREAT LEVEL: DIAMOND. TERMINATE WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE.”

Three things happened simultaneously. The black crystals launched in a hail of deadly projectiles. A great flood of bright blue light surged from their place of protection as Cadance’s eyes glowed white, and a groaning whirring whine faded in and out through their ears.

---

Pensword came to on a cold hard surface. The first thing he beheld was white. It was pristine and blurry. “Am I in heaven?” he half-croaked, half-murmured. Then the rest of the world came into focus. He noticed the prominent muzzle between his eyes and the gray walls full of circles and embossed in gold. A strange almost holographic sheen seemed to ripple over those surfaces, channeling bubbles drifting through the sparkles and the gilding. High above, a veritable frenzy of color and explosion burst from stones shaped like flowers contained in the largest bubble he had ever seen as blue energy was siphoned in a stream from … from—

“Cadance!” Pensword leapt to his hooves and shook the daze from his head as he glared at the lavender Unicorn that stood over her. His wings glinted dangerously as the blades hissed with the fluttering of his brace for battle. A swift glance revealed Bellacosa and Alto were both still unconscious behind him. “Get away from her!”

“Calm down, please,” the Unicorn said in a slightly familiar voice. Her tone was level and calm, her golden eyes filled with kindness and a deep sadness.

“Not until you tell me what you’re doing to the princess,” Pensword huffed as he hurried toward the foal.

“Keeping things in motion,” she said. “There are things that need to happen right now in order for all of us to stay safe.”

Pensword cradled the filly’s head in his hooves. Blue energy streamed from her forehead, her hooves, her wings, and her fur to continue setting off the display. He knew enough of Equestria to recognize what that stream was. “And that includes sucking magic out of the princess, I suppose,” he accused. He allowed the filly’s head to lower gently to the floor, then braced himself as he leveled his wing blades once again. “Who are you, and why are you doing this?”

“I’m the Muffin Mare,” she said. “I’m here to help keep history in check and everyone safe.”

Pensword narrowed his eye suspiciously. “That’s The Doctor’s job.” Once more, his eyes roved around the chamber and finally settled on the central console and the plunger-like apparatus that lay at rest. “And you’re clearly not him. This isn’t his TARDIS, is it?”

There was a flash of a distant memory in her eyes for a moment as she gave a familiar sad smile. “It is, and it was, and it will be. But it’s my job, too.”

Pensword was still wary. “There aren’t many other Time Lords or Ladies that are on good terms with The Doctor. How do I know that I can trust you?”

“Because I have muffins,” she said, pulling one out and offering it to him.”

“How is a muffin supposed to help me know I can trust you?” Pensword objected.

“Because there is only one other Pony in the multiverse who can make these muffins,” the Muffin Mare retorted.

“And that is?”

“Take a bite, and you tell me.”

Pensword eyed the mare warily, sniffed at the quickbread, then finally took a bite. What followed can best be described as happiness in bread form. Warmth spread through his chest, over his sore limbs, and into his brain. It was one of the first times he had ever managed to taste an emotion in his life. And that ecstasy could only have been created by one mare in particular. A mare with golden eyes and an adorable filly who she protected with the ferocity of an army.

The smile he saw when he opened his eyes again was a sad one filled with the weight of years and tears that had been shed out long ago. “Do I even want to know how many years it’s been for you?” he finally asked.

She shook her head. “Just know what I’m doing is for everybody’s benefit. Cadance needs to be found outside a village centuries from now.”

“That much, I know. What I was worried about was why you’re sucking so much magic out of her.” He turned to look at the sleeping filly. The stream had begun to abate now, its source flickering as the line leading to the bubble and lightshow overhead became thinner.

“If I don’t take this energy, she’ll ascend too early, and that would cause problems,” she assured him.

“And you couldn’t have opened with that when I asked what you were doing?”

“Would you have believed me?”

“Yes. It’s a logical deduction to make after what CAPS said it was doing.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“He said he was channeling love energy into Cadance. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together about stopping an ascension before its time.”

Dinky blinked in surprise. “That’s … surprisingly clever of you. Your future self isn’t nearly so easy to reason with.”

“Future self?”

“Anyway, you four should be safe now,” she said, breezing right past any further mention of such things.

“What do you intend to do about Cadance’s memories? She just lost her mother. I doubt that will help her to make her connection to her destiny anytime soon.”

“I’ll be putting some psychic blocks to her memory, setting them to a trigger.”

“Isn’t there a chance of those coming undone before the trigger can be applied properly?” Pensword asked.

“No.” She shook her head. “We’ve already gone over it.”

“We?”

“Me and my TARDIS. We’ve run the numbers,” she said.

“Will it hurt her?”

“Never.”

“What do I tell her siblings?”

“Tell them they’ll see her again soon.”

“Isn’t that a lie?”

“Yes and no.” She smirked.

Pensword groaned. “Yup. It’s official. I hate time games.”

“To the world, it will be a long time. To all of you, it will be significantly less so.”

“Because of you?”

“No, because of what's to come. The rough road lies ahead of you all.”

“The foals. Are you … keeping them asleep for this?”

“I’m doing what I need to do,” she said sadly. “Threading the needle.”

“And where will you take us before you leave with Cadance?” Pensword asked. “We can’t stay in the safehouse anymore. It’s obviously compromised.”

“You’ll be rejoining your friends,” she admitted. “Though much later down the line.”

“How much later, exactly?”

“When Equestria arrives.”

“And Cosy and Alto are both to stay with me?”

She nodded. “Unfortunately, there are … conditions that need to be met. One of them is that they stay with you.”

“And when the time comes, how are we supposed to break your telepathic lock on Cadance’s memories?”

“Don’t worry. It will happen.” She smirked.

“I notice you didn’t mention a how, though,” Pensword deadpanned.

“You’re not supposed to know.”

Pensword sighed as he eyed the sleeping trio. “Can we at least give them one last nap together before we separate them?”

She laughed. “This is a TARDIS. Of course they can. I’ll put on the time lock.”

“Good.” Pensword smiled regretfully. “At least they’ll have this.”

Comments

[LadySnowflake]

Love this chapter but I was a little shocked at what Grif had to do. The "Do you hear the people sing" line was almost too much for me. I love the idea of Dinky being the one that had to help. My only question is wasn't Cadenza described as being a Pegasus instead of an alicorn? How does that change?

[Hakume]

6670738 Cadance was originally a pegasus. The backstory describing what caused her to change into an alicorn is described in an IDW miniseries with her as the star.