The Answer, Part 1

Written by TB3 and Redskin122004

Guest Writer: Proudtobe

"Only a mind free of impediments is capable of grasping the chaotic beauty of the world. This is our greatest asset."

―Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad

"It is only the enlightened ruler and the wise general who will use the highest intelligence of the army for the purposes of spying, and thereby they achieve great results."

―Sun Tzu

Canterlot, Equestria, 6th Year Anno Harmonia

"Sign up today!" recruiters called from podiums and platforms. "Join the Salvation Army and bring about a more perfect peace!"

"Extry, extry!" newscolts shouted, hawking copies of the 'Equestria Daily' and the 'Equestria Enquirer'. "Queen Celestia appoints new Minister for Newfoal Affairs! Thrilling reports from Boston, Nairobi and New Delhi! Ponydom's noble battle to save Earth from itself!"

In the heart of the city, not too far from Scootaloo Station, one pony was giving a soapbox oration at the foot of a statue depicting a rearing stallion. The statue's face was composed in a look of selfless determination, while the speaker expressed the beaming, unnerving joy of a newfoal; his smile was just a little too wide and his eyes large as saucers, bright yet slightly glassy, as if focused on something that nopony else could see.

"Stalwart Heart was the embodiment of the pony ideal!" he cried, one hoof laid in reverence against the bronze effigy. "A human who, despite at first resisting our glorious herd, embraced it with all his mighty heart after transcending his flawed flesh; he was a loyal soldier, a fiery patriot, and a loving fiancée, to no less than the beauteous Twilight Sparkle; it is not just she, but all of us who grieve for the loss of the stallion she loved, murdered at the hands of the ape that once called him brother. Can anything else show just how broken humankind is; that they should murder their once-and-former kin, rather than join with them in perfect bliss? When I walked on two legs I called myself a King, and was arrogant and proud enough to assume myself to stand above all peers. Now I am humbled, and have embraced that humility as one limb in the glorious body of Equestria, serving gladly as a subject of the One True Monarch, She who brings us the sun and the moon and lights a fire of love and harmony within all out hearts…"

As he continued to preach, to a crowd mostly comprised of newfoals like himself, a lone unicorn mare made her way alone through the back of the rally, growling softly to herself and holding her head high as if above such plebian nonsense; with her forest green mane expertly coiffed, and her tail tucked up beneath a flowing dress that made her the desire of of any princeling, she was the very image of aloof Canterlot nobility…

…the truth was something else entirely.

As she attempted to circumnavigate the growing crowd of newfoals adulating the pony speaking from the Stalwart Heart memorial, she felt her lip curl involuntarily, and as she brushed against the flank of one mare her fur stood on end, as if a thousand spiders were crawling over her body. Newfoals more than just unnerved her; they sickened her in a way that was deeply personal, and almost spiritual.

'Damn that Commander Renee! Damn Cheerilee! Damn all these stupid broken baboons!' The mare growled mentally. 'I shouldn't be here! I should be by my partner, helping him in Boston!'

She gave a quiet sigh as she stopped, her head hanging in sadness. 'No...my mission is important...Perhaps Ste-'

Caught up in her thoughts, she misplaced one step, fumbled for a foothold, and then tripped snout-first into the back of the crowd. Almost immediately the bystanders all but leapt to help her up, and she found herself assaulted with more of those bright smiles and bulging eyes, hooves and magic and dexterous wings touching her all over as she was lifted up and put back on her hooves.

"Are you alright?" countless voices asked. "So sorry, my fault…can we do anything for you? Praise Celestia you're not hurt."

And again, that sense of wrongness, of insects swarming up and down her spine, and her horn resonating in such a way that she almost swooned in a faint. The magical aura of all the newfoals was just like their words and expressions; forcefully strong and bright and sickly sweet, like milk on the verge of curdling.

She couldn't stand it.

"Get back!" she shouted at last, hooves clopping into a rapid backtrack. "Keep away from me! I don't need your help, I don't need anypony's help!"

At those words, the newfoals obligingly parted to let her out from her midst; the majority still beaming as if she had responded to their cloying helpfulness with fulsome praise. Only a scant few showed even the slightest signs of hurt or disquiet.

"Miss, you really shouldn't talk to them like that!" somepony snapped, and she turned to see a punch-pink Earth Pony trotting towards her, expression dark and eyes narrowed. A cluster of grapes and berries adorned her flank, and she carried both an eager-looking unicorn filly on her back, and a determined expression on her face; no-doubt that this was a native Equestrian, not one of the little golems Celestia had transmuted out of the monkeys…

"I can talk to them as I wish," the unicorn mare replied haughtily, a seething hiss edging her words. "And I wish to draw everyone's attention to the fact that these are NOT ponies, just aliens molded into an equine likeness…"

"How dare you!" the plum-colored Earth Pony made a gesture as if to slap her across the face, but restrained herself. Both herself and her unicorn daughter wore sashes that proclaimed them to be members of PETN; Ponies for the Ethical Treatment of Newfoals. "Yes the newfoals can seem a little…strange at first, but that's just as a result of the world shift they've gone through. Can you understand how much it hurts to be like they were; addicts, slaves to a condition, only to be instantly set free, reborn with a new purpose and focus? Of course they're going to take time to naturalize…"

Her words had the tone of a true believer, and the upper-class mare felt a sudden rush of unwanted empathy. Despite everything that had changed in the past few years in Equestria, some things remained the same; the kindness of strangers had been a balm to herself not so long ago…

…then she noticed how the PETN mare's daughter had no cutie-mark, despite being well into her teens, and felt a little sliver curl off her heart, hardening her tone and voice.

"Naturalize? Look at that thing up there…" she glowered, waving one hoof in the direction of the proletysing newfoal up on the Stalwart Heart memorial. "He's been a pony for, what…three years now. Does he even look remotely naturalized? No, he looks just the same as any newfoal fresh out of the bottle. They, are sick…and whatever disease they're a symptom of, it's spreading…"

"Princess Celestia tells us that…"

"Look at your daughter!" she growled. "She's practically fully grown! Where's her cutie mark? And if those animals that trot on four hooves and smile truly are ponies, then where are their cutie marks? All of them, to the last, are blank-flanks! Explain that to me, and then explain how all of this doesn't terrify you!?"

The mare glared furiously back as she put a protective hoof around her now sniffling daughter and held her close. "Experimentation by the Royal University assures us that the Dearth is just a passing phase, a result of Equestria's magic being spread thin in expanding the barrier. Once Earth is wholly ponified, they predict we'll see a Second Magical Renaissance, and I can't wait for that day!"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," the unicorn replied absently, shuddering as a passing newfoal brushed against her. "Ugh, unclean animals…"

"Look at you…" the PETN activist said, he tone now more sad than angry. "You rant about the newfoals being broken, but they're the ones being persecuted by ponies like you. Feared by some, abused by others, despite Celestia's words that we're all just ponies. Despite all that, they keep smiling and keep on working to make Equestria a better place. That's love and courage beyond compare. Their example gave me the strength to drag myself out the of the depths of a bottle. What have you done for anypony? You're practically a traitor!"

With a flick of her head she turned, bit hold of something in her saddlebags, and threw a sheaf of pamphlets at the green unicorn's feet. "Come on Ruby. This mare's got her hatred for company…"

Turning, the two of them turned away, though the mother momentarily paused at stared back, as if commiting the angry mare's face and features to memory. Said unicorn felt a little shiver run down her spine, and glancing down she angrily trod a hoof into the PETN literature that had been literally pounded into her…

…when she looked up, she saw the two activists having a spirited conversation with a nearby Guardspony, and gesturing in her direction. No doubt words such as 'dissention' and 'objectionist' were being used. When he nodded and began to trot towards her, the mare immediately bolted back into the crowd, cursing her actions.

'Dammit dammit, dammit. I got worked up again, nearly blew myself! They taught me better than that! Now I've got to change outfits!'

Pushing through the heart of the rally, her horn shimmered, and as she flitted between oblivious newfoals her appearance began to flow like water. Her mane restyled itself into a set of slicked-back spike while her dress unraveled into a simple work-harness, and her horn appeared to wither into her skull as a trim pare of wings formed, tucked tightly against her barrel. A wash of fresh colors finalized the job, and as the Guardspony continued to hunt through the crowd for a forest-green lady-in-waiting, a creamy young Pegasus labormare walked straight past him in the opposite direction, heading out of the square and deeper into the city.

'Next time...Go as an old crone.' she muttered to herself. 'There's so many beggars around nowadays that no-one would notice one more…'

Finally, she reached her destination on the corner of Moon Drive and Sunset Blvd, where a lowly flower shop overlooked the mouth of the four-track railway tunnel connecting Canon Street and Scootaloo Stations. She dimly remembered that it had been a single-track bore until increased military-traffic had resulted in it doubling-out during the Crystal Empire affair. And then just a few years later two more tracks had been added. Entire streets of houses had been knocked down so that the cutting could be widened. Looking down, she suddenly realized that one of now-destroyed dwellings had been a flophouse where she'd been taken in after that…unpleasantness in Ponyville, and felt a pang of…well not so much sadness, for it had been a flea-infested dive that she had fled within days, but loss.

'The first shock of a great earthquake had, just at that period, rent the whole neighbourhood to its centre' she suddenly thought, quoting a line from Dickens, something that Stephan had once read her during the long days and nights of the European campaign. 'The yet unfinished and unopened Railroad was in progress; and, from the very core of all this dire disorder, trailed smoothly away, upon its mighty course of civilisation and improvement.'

For the first time, she could feel the cynical derision that seeped deep into the prose. As she approached the door of the flower shop, down below street level a whistling locomotive erupted from the tunnel mouth in a broiling cloud of steam, hauling behind it an endless string of wagons laden heavily with coal. The pony who resembled a hardy laborer of the skies watched it, her eyes narrowed, as with a scream of brakes the black steam engine checked the speed of its heavy train and started to descend the long gradient into the valley below, where huge, fuming factories awaited an unending supply of war materiel…

The squeal of steel wheels on worn rails was suddenly drawn out by a roar from above, and cracking her head back she saw two pegasai rocket by in perfect formation, trailing a pair of distinctive contrails as they shot towards Canterlot Palace. One was the rainbow-maned Captain of the Wonderbolts, while the other was her loyal (and some said, loving) lightning-fast second-in-command. Within seconds, both had disappeared within the gleaming spires of the citadel, and from the fact that they had been flying supersonic over the capital, the implication was that they bore urgent news.

'Suddenly I think now's a bad time to be a strange mare out on her own…' she thought to herself, and sure enough, just seconds after that realization, a scream of primal anger erupted out of the not-so-distant castle, amplified by what could only be Royal rage and might. Everypony in sight immediately spun in the direction of the howl, like weathercocks turning to the wind, their confused voices filling the void it left with babbling discussion.

"What was that?"

"Sounded like the Queen."

"She doesn't really sound happy."

"Oh no, did something happen with the Rescue Fleet?!"

Ignoring them, the mare took advantage of the sudden distraction and entered the flower shop, her eyes wandering over the many assorted blooms before spotting before a single one that stood out amid the storm of color.

A White Rose.

"Oh what a beautiful rose! What an exquisite color!" She chimed, gaining the attention of the vendor, a sturdily-build unicorn stallion, his pearl-white coat brushed to a shine and mane hidden behind a bandana that kept the sweat out of his eyes.

"Really now?" he asked, turning towards her, a smile on his face as he plucked the rose with his magic and presented it to her. "And does the fair lady want to buy such a beauty?"

"Oh yes, yes!" The mare nodded her head rapidly. Then she frowned. "Do you have anymore? I understand that they are awfully hard to grow around this time of the year."

"Well..." the stallion said as if unsure, tapping his chin and thinking hard. "I do have a fresh batch inside the cellar."

"How is that possible?" the mare looked at him in feigned astonishment. However, if any pony got close enough, they would of seen her left eye twitch somewhat, a tell that spoke of he frustration with this necessary charade of codes and pass-phrases.

"Trade secret," he smiled wearily, his eyes gaining a look of understanding.

"I'll take a dozen," the mare quickly answered, and the vendor chuckled and waved for her to follow him.

"Then follow me please, Madame."

As they passed the three mares that actually did the work of running the flower-shop as a cover-business, the vendor spoke up; "Daisy, Lily, Roseluck. I have a special customer my dears. Please take care of the shop until we get back."

"Of course," they answered softly, exchanging a few wry looks as the door slammed shut behind the exiting pair.

"FINALLY!" the mare cried out once they were in the secretive dark of the cellar, her magical disguise shimmering and melting away to reveal a blue unicorn whose eyes were hidden behind a delicate domino mask. Her powder-blue mane was tied back in a pony tail, and where a cutie mark normally would have been showed only a blank flank. "Sweet Luna, how corny did all of that sound?"

The stallion removed his bandanna, to reveal an elegant parted gunmetal-blue mane "I think we did all right, Blue Spy."

"So says you, Trade Secret...or should I say Fancy Pants," the 'Blue Spy' smirked as the stallion placed a monocle on his left eye, before she bowed in a slightly mocking curtsey. "It's an honor to be called before Equestria's Prime Minister."

"Former Prime Minister…" Fancy Pants corrected, though not without both a chuckle and a slightly pained grimace. "Still, Trade Secret is my cover name, and I trust you to keep that secret."

"Understood," Spy answered curtly. "Now, why am I even here? I should be back on Earth, fighting with the others."

"The Battle of Boston is over my dear," Fancy replied, his eyes scanning over several sheets of paper filled with names. "Or at least the first day's worth of fighting. Our intelligence indicates that both sides formed up lines and dug themselves in some hours ago, once the new front established itself."

Spy blinked several times before a look of worry began to creep across her face. "And...and who gained the upper hand?"

"Well, a stalemate would normally imply any 'victory' would be a nominal one." Fancy replied, telekinetically removing his monocle and wiping it clean with the bandana that previously had been used to tie up his mane. "However, it appears that the Ponies for Human Life and the United Forces have turned a major milestone on its side. So far as we can tell, the Barrier has indeed stopped."

He looked towards Spy as if expecting some verbal response, but all she could muster was an astounded squeak and a slight smile.

"I understand your surprise," he continued, and despite his reserve, momentarily fumbled with his magic, dropping the monocle. "So it stands to reason that all our prayers are answered, at least for a little while. No doubt word of that was what resulted in our radiant monarch's little 'proclamation' a few minutes ago. I doubt Rainbow Dash and Lightning Dust particularly enjoyed having to drop such news at her hooves."

After a moment's pause he picked up the dropped monocle, now cracked from where it had hit the floor, and gave a dismissive little snort. "Pity."

As Spy waited for further elaboration he returned the damaged piece of eyeware to its perch atop his snout, before trotting around to face her, expression now stern and more than a little concerned. "However...we should not get ahead of ourselves. Celestia was not expecting the level of resistance encountered at Halifax and learned her lesson. So far as we can ascertain, at Boston she finally played her trump card; the Elements of Harmony…"

"What happened?" Spy demanded, putting one hoof forward and her voice catching, all the while mentally promising great and terrible retribution against Twilight Sparkle if that nag so much as touched one hair on her friends' heads...

"We're…not entirely sure," Fancy Pants admitted, ducking his head in what humans would call a shrug. "It certainly produced no result that anyone predicted; the elements did not cause a mass ponification, or backfire on their wielders as one might have hoped. No…Twilight Sparkle pulled all her forces back to lure the defenders forward, and when Commander Renee exposed himself, she and the other Element Bearers tried to force their 'Harmony' upon him…at the moment he's MIA."

"You don't think…"

"No." Fancy answered before the question fully formed. "Were he captured or ponified the Queen would no doubt have been ecstatic. No time would have been wasted in presenting him to the world, cheerily renouncing his past loyalties and spilling every secret he had to offer. Did that scream from earlier sound like one of happiness?"

"I guess not...so...where is he?" Spy asked as she simmered down. "You don't think he could be…dead, do you?"

"In all honesty I have no idea." Fancy said, withdrawing several documents from a filing cabinet and walking back to her. "From the tone of young Ms Seed's dispatches, no-one is entirely sure of what transpired. All we know is that whatever happened caused considerable distress to Twilight Sparkle and the other Element Bearers, and they immediately fled back past the Barrier. The ever-capable Lady Cheerilee has stepped up to take command of the PHL in the Commander's place, and I've no doubt that the best minds on both sides will be attempting to identify his fate as we speak."

"Oh..."

"Yes, indeed, 'oh'. But that is neither here nor there. We can worry about the esteemed Commander Renee later on, but right now we have business to attend to," Fancy concluded, throwing down a bio sheet before the spy and sometime assassin. "This here is Green Fields, a recently-retired captain of the Royal Guard and veteran of the Crystal Campaign. I believe he may have info on our missing pony...or should I say, 'our missing drake'?"

Spy grimaced. "If this Fields is a member of the guard, retired or not, then he's going to be under the effects of Celestia's Geas; he won't divulge information even if he wanted to."

"Ah, but is that not the specialty of our magically-gifted Blue Spy, to retrieve precious intel despite the obstructions of might and magic?" Fancy beamed. "Even someone under the influence of the Charter of the Guard will run their mouth, if they believe they are in the company of a friend…remember, the Geas compels loyalty and obedience, not intelligence…"

"Humph…" the Spy snorted. "You clearly have a 'high' opinion of the plat-de-jour. What else can you tell me about him? Why should he know anything about the dragon?"

"Because the good Captain cannot handle his cider very well." Fancy grinned. "In addition, he has attempted to mitigate the boredom of retirement by taking up several good causes, such as supporting the Ponies for the Ethical Treatment of Newfoals…"

Spy's head whipped up, eyes narrowed. "Your wife's little circle of do-gooders? Does she even know what you do behind her back?"

She waved one hoof in an arc to indicate the shop, and Fancy's expression fluctuated from anger to shame and then affection in just a few seconds.

"No…no she does not. My darling Fleur is a true-hearted mare, but she is loyal to the Crown. Yet despite all that, she is very much an advocate for the wellbeing of those poor, damaged Newfoals, and for that I cannot help but love her all the more…regardless!" he continued. "I happened to be in the presence of the former Captain Fields at a PETN fundraiser recently, and made sure that I was the one buying all the drinks. Let us say that after a while his lips loosened and he began to rant at all those 'traitors' and 'subversives' who are evidently to blame for Equestria's current predicament, and eventually told a story that very much intrigued me…"

Spy tilted her head, waiting to hear more.

"As it so happens, the Good Captain Fields last assignment before retirement was a mission, entrusted personally to him by the Queen herself, to rescue the Element of Generosity from the clutches of an…ahem, 'evil dragon', which I take to mean 'find those traitors and drag them back to my hooves before they can do any damage'…"

"Rarity and Spike…" Spy gasped, despite the bad taste both names left on her tongue. "So it is true that the two of them attempted to flee Equestria in the early days of the war?"

"Yes indeed, and they were not alone; you were not here at the time, but before Celestia magically closed all of Equestria's borders, quite a large number of ponies escaped, and well done them…anyhow, Fields tracked said dragon and pony to a boat heading towards the Gryphon Lands. From that point on the tale became increasingly disjointed and no-doubt, drunkenly elaborated, but Fields described himself and thirty other guardsponies clashing with the beast in a near fight-to-the-death."

"Wait, hold up. That doesn't make sense..." Spy argued, "The dragon we are looking for is a baby dragon, an infant drake..."

"Fields described a maturing young buck, fully armored in deep purple scales, with razor-sharp green spines, large wings and a powerful tail. This dragon's fire glowed a deep emerald green and all but incinerated anypony foolish enough to stay in its path." Fancy stated, his eyes expressing not the slightest doubt. "It is arcane knowledge, but dragons have been known to undergo accelerated growth rates under specific directions. Dragons who nurture their inner greed, are apparently the most dangerous, but I'm sure there are other scenarios that would allow for our young drake to grow up quickly...as for his fate beyond that encounter, I do not know; Fields by that point in the story was several drinks under the table and fell asleep. What we do know is that he succeeded in returning Rarity to Canterlot, and she duly reappeared as a Lady of the Court, fully supportive of the Earth Campaign, and whatever Celestia did to coerce or compel her loyalty makes me shudder just to contemplate..."

Spy stayed silent for a few moments, deep in thought. As she did, Fancy stood up and walked towards where his coat hung on a rack, his horn glowing as he retrieved a small something from the pocket; a nautilus shell set on a length of cord so that it resembled a simple necklace.

"A little magical something the Whooves family cobbled together…" he explained as Spy's attention shifted to the shell. "It's made entirely by pony craft using natural materials, so can be smuggled through the Barrier easily enough; it functions as a two-way speaking device and beacon."

He quickly demonstrated how to use it, and then held the bell-end of the shell up to his mouth and spoke into it. "Trade Secret to New York, come in New York?"

"Yo Trade! Whatz da Newz?" the familiar voice of Babs Seed answered, and Spy held back a whinny of disapproval at the rambunctious young mare, who was shouting to make herself heard over the sound of shouting voices and metalwork.

"The news my dear" Fancy chuckled. "Is that Blue Spy is with me at the moment, I am passing the device to her now, and will then proceed to sterilize my operation, as agreed."

"Undastood. We'z got good newz of our own. Doc Whoovez has fineuly' got his new machine runnin', so if Spy needs extraction, he'z ready to pick her up in an instant." Babs answered, gaining a smile from Fancy. "Good luck on your end. New York out."

"Trade Secret out…" Fancy replied, before handing over the nautilus necklace to Spy. "Excellent young mare that, a little rough around the edges, but stalwart-hearted and true. We'll need peoples of such caliber in the days to come."

"Yes, yes, enough praise and adulation," Spy responded as she strung the cord around her neck, even though she would have gladly soaked up and encouraged any compliments directed at her. "What do you mean by 'sterilizing your operation'."

Fancy's face fell slightly, before being replaced by a familiar sad, but loving smile. "You may have heard outside that our dear Tyrant has named a new Minister for Newfoal Affairs. It's Fleur that she's asked to join her cabinet, and that makes me too much of a risk, both to our cause, and my darling wife…I won't endanger either of them to further danger. This will likely be the last you see of me until all this unpleasantness is ended."

"So you're going to…"

"Burn the house down, so to speak…" Fancy answered curtly, levitating a set of matches from his desk. "So dangerous, oil lanterns. So easy to knock over…Every piece of intelligence I've ever gathered is safely duplicated and hidden in caches across Equestria, but this shop and everything in it has to be reduced to ash. Trade Secret might be a pony that exists only on paper, but I won't risk things tracing back to Fleur and myself in the event that this shop is ever exposed as a cover, not now that she's a cabinet member. Before, I might have been able to escape with her in secret, but now that she's accepted a government position it's going to be impossible for me to be anything except her supporting husband."

Spy nodded, and then in a move that surprised even her, trotted forward and embraced him in a hug. "Good luck Fancy. Stay safe, and I'll see you on the other side."

"It was my pleasure, 'Blue Spy'. You'll find Green Fields' residence at 34 Celestial Lane. Now go, hurry…"

"Alright," she answered, straightening her new necklace and summoning up a new disguise, before trotting back up the stairs and into daylight. By the time she was several streets away, she could already smell smoke and hear the clatter of fire-chariots rushing to the burning flower shop. No doubt Fancy would have made himself scarce and the three mares that ran the mock-business would be putting on a nice show for the fire-stallions.

The horror, the horror…

Fields Manor

For the retired Captain Green Fields, life was reaching its peak. His family was growing, his grandfilly was about to start school, and although his body was too frail for him to still serve in Equestria's glorious armies, he could still do good work in the name of Celestia by helping out those poor newfoals that so many otherwise-decent ponies seemed to find unsettling.

Being able to enjoy a hot cup of tea whilst smoking his pipe, with a good book for company, was just the cherry on top of the well-frosted (if slightly bloody) cake that was his life.

"All is well", he sighed, closing the book and placing his tea back on the table beside him. Perhaps this evening some of his friends still serving in the forces would pop round for a friendly chat, bringing word from the frontlines. It was his greatest regret that the blasted dragon had left him too lame to take part in the Earth campaign, but living vicariously through his colleagues in the comfort of his own home was ample substitute.

'Only a few more months now…' he thought sleepily, as yet unaware of events transpiring in a city known as Boston. 'Then that 'Earth' place will be pony, and all Equestria can look on in pride of a job well done. So many more newfoals too, might be useful to train some of them up, turn a few battalions loose against the gryphons and zebras, damn weak-stomached backstabbers. Why not make them pony too…all happy and bright-smilin'.

Yes, all was well.

Warm and comfortable in his thoughts of Perpetual Ponydom, Fields was just drifting off to sleep when the creaking sound of a door opening startled him awake.

"Uh!? Wha?! Satin Glove, is that you?" he called, expecting it to be his newfoal valet, only to turn and see the door leading into this private study swinging slowly on its hinges.

"Stupid door, always got to open on its own," he growled, stomping over to shut it, before throwing himself back into his comfy chair and draining the rest of his tea. Then, smacking his lips he glanced down at the empty cup, wondering why the dregs had tasted somewhat sweeter than usual. Strange, but nevertheless a pleasant taste. He'd have to go down to the kitchens and…and…make some…some more…

Something was wrong…the whole room seemed to be tilting sideways…

"Hel-help.." he managed weakly, before stumbling and collapsing onto his side, eyes wide as he sluggishly attempted to get back on his feet, thoughts turning to slush. "Wha...what's wrong with meeeeeee..."

"You should really lock your doors," a mare's voice echoed, seemingly from miles above him, even though he could now see her standing just in front of him. Squinting, he tried to identify her, but his vision was beginning to blur, colours and shadows swirling together. "You never know who might come in..."

Darkness claimed him.

*SMACK*

Fields was startled awake, and found himself blindfolded, legs trussed beneath him and lying on his side. Unable to see but perfectly capable of hearing his ears flicked to attention, taking in the distant sound of terrible industry and labor. There were not a few screams and cries comingled in the roar of smithies and machinery, and everything had an echoing, reverberating quality, as if he were deep underground.

He felt the distinct clip-clop of hoofbeats approaching and stiffened, old battlefield training coming back to him with a will.

"Captain Green Fields, Equestrian Armed forces, 33rd Royal Guard, Retired! Stallion-number UE33/7921!" he barked out. Name, rank, posting, and serial number. Give nothing else.

That resolve melted slightly when he felt the tingle of unicorn magic tug away his blindfold, and as his eyes adjusted he realized to his horror that he was no longer in Canerlot…

…in fact, he doubted he was in Equestria.

"Welcome to New York, Captain Fields", the Great and Powerful Trixie announced…

To Be Continued...