It was early in the morning, and Equestria’s Central Guardian loyally watched over his region from his mountaintop perch. His eyes glowed bright, but their fire was put to shame by the majesty of the rising sun.

It had been a few months since the military ball. The princesses’ search had turned up empty, yet even Clyde knew that the nightmares were becoming increasingly more common. If Persephone’s theory was correct, then the changelings had slipped under the radar somehow; if she was right, that is.

Clyde had fallen into a custom of watching over the region from evening to morning, and doing his best to get to know the citizens he was protecting during the afternoons. Pinkie Pie helped him do so on a regular basis, but he tried to meet others on his own by helping them with anything he could.

He built fences, lifted things too heavy for ordinary ponies, anything that would add weight to his name. He quickly became fairly popular, but rumors still persisted about the ‘soldier’ in town. That’s what he told everypony he was, a soldier, but anypony with common sense caught on that a lone, active duty soldier wouldn’t be living in Ponyville. He didn’t mind keeping the secret though, and some of the rumors that arose from his secrecy were fairly interesting.

He had become extremely close to the six mares and Spike. But, his relationship with Fluttershy bothered him. He continued tormenting himself over which to conform to, his duties or his desires, and it led to a stalemate in which he decided to let her make the first move, which she never did. They both harbored feelings for each other, but they never got past ‘crush’.

With the others, he found a niche like an older brother in their lives. They became like a family, and each day, he found himself spending more and more time with them. Through autumn and winter, he competed neck and neck with Applejack and Rainbow Dash in the Running of the Leaves, they spent Hearth’s Warming Eve together at Twilight’s, and he set the snow lifting record at Winter Wrap Up, which was promptly reclaimed by Big Macintosh, Applejack’s older brother.

He tried to make every day, minute and second with them count; after all, he had no idea which moment could be their last together with the ever-preset presence of the evil hidden somewhere, never fully revealing itself. Clyde searched the region himself through and through but never found anything, but he knew not to let his guard down.

After all, he didn’t know which second would bring an end to it all. He kept the dark presence a secret; he didn’t want to scare anypony. It was his duty alone to protect this region from whatever may come, and he meant to do just that.

He began to scan over the regions’ citizens as he normally did, until his gaze fell on Sweet Apple Acres. All seemed well until strangely, his vision was blocked. For a few moments, all he saw was blackness. He was confused; it was the first time anything like this had ever happened.

As quickly as the blindness came on, it departed. As quickly as he could, he checked for everypony in the region, but he took note of an absence; Applebloom. The filly wasn’t in her bed, and her window was flung open, the curtains fluttering in the early day’s breeze.

“She was there a second ago,” he frantically thought to himself, and he began searching every nook and cranny in Sweet Apple Acres for the filly, but she was nowhere to be found.

He began to panic as he double, then triple checked for any sign of her, but when he saw nothing, he took off for Sweet Apple Acres.

He pummeled the air with wing beats as he raced to the farm, desperately hoping that what he was beginning to assume wasn’t true. He reached the farmhouse’s doorstep and began to look for footprints around the home’s exterior; he found none, confirming his fears. She hadn’t left on her own.

He dashed to the porch and began furiously knocking on the door. He heard no noise from within, and assumed that the rest of the Apple family was still asleep. So, perhaps over zealously, he bucked the door in, nearly kicking it off its hinges.

He heard excited rummaging upstairs, and very soon saw the surprised face of his friend peek through a doorway in the hallway, her head bare for once. Seeing it was him, Applejack loped down the stairs and began scolding him.

“Clyde, what do ya think yer doin’?”

“Applejack, who’s down there!” an old, feeble voice shouted from upstairs.

“Nopony granny, go back to sleep,” she yelled back up the stairs, then turned back to him, frustration and confusion burning in her eyes, “Ya can’t jus’ go kicking ponies’ doors in! I oughta…”

“Applebloom’s gone,” he interrupted, “I can’t find her.”

She stared at him, shocked, but then darted back up the wooden staircase, down the hall, and into a room on the right.

She rushed into her sister’s bedroom and found it empty and cold, the open window letting in the brisk early morning air. She hurriedly shut the door and trotted back down the hallway and knocked on another of the hallway’s doors. The door was opened by a large red stallion, her brother, standing freshly awakened in the doorway.

Her voice held genuine fear when she told him, “Applebloom’s gone. We’re goin’ after her.”

He responded silently, not speaking though his eyes grew wide. He went back into his room and promptly returned bearing a heavy wooden collar around his neck. Dressed, he followed his sister down the stairs, and then followed the grey pegasus out the door.

As she was leaving, Applejack grabbed her hat from a rack just inside the doorway, and shouted upstairs, “Granny, we’ll be back!”

The door shut with a hurried slam, and three galloped off.

Clyde explained what had happened, how his vision had gone dark and when he reacquired it, Applebloom was gone. He told them how the sight may as well be useless, as he couldn’t see whatever had taken her, and had no idea where she could be.

“What are we gonna do?” Applejack asked, frustrated and afraid, and kicked the ground.

An extremely deep voice responded with an idea.

“If ya can’t see her, why don’t we check wherever ya can’t see.”

Clyde turned to Big Macintosh; he knew him vaguely, and this was one of the few times he had actually heard him speak, and even then, every word he had uttered around him prior was ‘yup’ or ‘nope’. Being kindred to Applejack, he already assumed he knew his secret, but the stallion had just confirmed that suspicion. And, what he had said was incredibly wise, attributing him to far greater intelligence than he was taken to have; at least, intelligence in the form of sense.

Clyde hesitated no further, and immediately tested the theory. He went into a trance and checked everyplace in Ponyville, all of which he was able to see without hindrance. He checked the surrounding countryside, as well as some other cities and towns in the region.

Images from Canterlot were visible, and he could see the mountains and hills just fine. He checked everywhere until only one place remained; Everfree Forest.

He couldn’t see beyond the tree line of the ominous and expansive wood, only blank images of black coming from beyond the dark green vegetation. That had to be it.

Without saying a word, he took off for the forest.

“Everfree, of course; why didn’t I think of Everfree? Dammit, dammit! They’ve been there all along!”he thought to himself, both frustrated with himself and worried for Applebloom.

The Apples struggled to keep up from the ground, trailing the pegasus by several hundred yards, though he was still visible against the early morning sky.

When he reached the edge of the trees, he landed, the Apples quickly running up behind him. Clyde stood, facing the wall of vegetation. He was afraid, not for himself, but for the ones it was his responsibility to protect. He had to be brave.

“Ya think she’s in there?” asked Applejack.

“There’s nowhere else she could be,” he said sternly, and Applejack recognized that he was in soldier mode now.

The pegasus led the way into the dark jungle, walking slowly and deliberately and searching for any sign of the filly. They combed the ground, desperately hoping to find some clue that could lead them to the filly.

It was quiet; not a single animal stirred. The air felt heavy, fog coated the ground, and it was hard to breathe in the humidity of the tightly packed trees. The thick canopy was nearly impossible for light to penetrate; but, the most overwhelming thing about the forest was the silence; the absence of sound made for a deafening quiet that rang in their ears, and it made the fear that Applebloom may not be found all the more real.

They searched for hours, not entertaining the thought of giving up, though all felt despair setting in. Then, Macintosh saw something.

He plodded over to a dead snag and removed a piece of material from its jagged limb. He turned with it in his mouth, and Applejack’s heart stopped; it was Applebloom’s hair ribbon, torn, tattered and dirty.

Before she could cry, she heard Clyde behind her.

“Footprints.”

There were three sets; one of them was a small series of prints that started and ended in about a ten foot space. They were fairly far apart, and were going away from the tree with the ribbon. Two larger, crescent shaped sets followed them, and all three ended and began in the same place, though at the end of the distinct tracks was a pair of parallel drag marks in the dirt.

The crescent tracks belonged to changelings; Clyde recognized them from the shores of Canterbury, meaning that the small tracks probably belonged to Applebloom. He recreated what had happened in his mind. From what he could tell, she had attempted to make an escape but her kidnappers, at least two of them, retook her before she got far. After they fell on her, she resisted being taken and dragged her hooves behind her as they carried her off. They were hovering with her to try and avoid being tracked; they knew he would be coming for them. Clyde made a mental note to be weary of traps.

The footprints were still fresh, and he led his companions in the direction the drag marks pointed with scrupulous caution.

He pushed through a dense pack of shrubs, and upon stumbling through, he found himself staring into the mouth of a cave. Two bodies bumped into his thick flanks as the Apple siblings pushed through the bushes behind him.

He turned to them and silently pointed to the cave, then slowly put a hoof over his lips, telling them to be quiet. He pointed to them, then to the ground, trying to convey that he wanted them to stay; they nodded.

Clyde took a deep breath to slow his quickening pulse. He had only one chance and no choice but to succeed. He closed his eyes and muttered a quiet prayer, then crept towards the cave.

He entered without looking back. The only light was at his rear, making it nearly impossible to see. He crept along slowly and silently, feeling the ground rather than seeing it. He pushed deeper and deeper into the cave, listening more than looking for anything that could lead him to Applebloom.

Eventually, a faint beacon of green light became visible deeper in the cave. Clyde slowly approached, cautious of danger. He circled the luminescence, testing to see if there was movement in the dim light surrounding it. When he was confident that he wouldn’t be ambushed and killed as soon as he neared the glow, he began an approach.

Silently, he stepped from the shadows and into the faint green light. As he neared the source, he couldn’t help but notice its oddities. It was shaped like an egg, but it flexed and shifted occasionally, as if the sides were soft rather than rigid like an egg’s should be. It was large, coming up to his shoulders, and a dull green fluorescent liquid seemed to slosh around inside with a pulse-like rhythm. Its walls were opaque, and though blurred, he could somewhat make out the interior.

He leaned in closer to the strange object, prodding it with a ginger hoof. The leathery walls of the sack-like object gave in as he touched it, and then reformed after he removed pressure. He thought he saw a small movement from within, so he pressed his muzzle against the object’s shell to see what it was. He peered inside, and could vaguely make out a shadowy silhouette. Suddenly, the figure moved, and Clyde realized what the object was; a cocoon.

He grabbed the shell in his hooves and tried to tear it apart, but to no avail. So he used his teeth, tearing a small rift in the chrysalis, out of which glowing green liquid flowed, its light much more intense now that it was free of the hazy walls.

He pushed a hoof into the small hole, making it bigger, until he was able to grip and tear the cocoon’s wall open. It crumpled like a wilting flower, and out of it spilled Applebloom, drenched and exhausted, but breathing.

The sudden outpouring of the glowing fluid created a quick, intense flash that carried through the cave’s interior, illuminating the entirety of its contents. For a few seconds, hundreds, if not thousands of unsealed cocoons waiting for hosts littering the floor were visible.

The filly crumpled up at his hooves let out a faint cough followed by a weak sigh. She needed his help, now; he would deal with the changelings later. He scooped her onto his back, shoveling his muzzle under her ribcage and gently lifting her so that she rolled onto his back and draped over his spine like a blanket.

As she came to a rest, Clyde heard a distant sound from the bowels of the cave. For a second, it sounded like a lion's yowl, but a second call from the depths of the blackness revealed that something much worse was stirring. The changelings were onto him.

Before waiting to see what happened next, he turned and ran as fast as he could out of the cave, the sounds and calls behind him growing more frequent and drawing nearer as his hooves beat against the damp floor of the limestone.