//I walk past Zhuque, the cherry red quartermaster, concealing Belladonna's dying body with her large wings. Twilight, still disguised as a Red Helm soldier, is listening to Rarity over a spell. The crowd gets louder and louder as we listen, so I lean in close. Very close; Twilight and I end up sharing a cheek.
R: --quite a task. First of all I had to draw the blinds because there was an _unconscious stallion_ in my creation room, and heavens knows what the neighbors would think if they saw. And you mentioned the amulet but not the additional spell on it or it being burnt into his neck--
T: (There was a spell cast on it?)
R: With a 5-F structure as it had? Dear, please; don't tell me you're going soft.
//I BET FUCKTOY HERE HAS HEARD THAT SENTENCE BEFORE
T: (I, uh, the lenses dry out my eyes. Did you find out anything about the amulet?)
R: That was my intent before the entire thing exploded into shrapnel.
//What?!
T: (Oh my skies! Are you okay?)
R: Don't worry, Twilight, my abjurations were more than up to the task of protecting me. No promises about bringing this 'Red Helm leader' to the dungeons, however; today likely sets a new nadir for his bodily integrity.
//Both General Warhelm and Belladonna are dead... from what Twilight explained to me, we don't have much time before they come back, either.
T: (...Is the amulet totally lost?)
R: Most certainly. Thaumic NTA registered two separate releases of magical energy on destruction. Ruling out the non-casting earth pony's negligible magical power, both spell and enchantment were dismissed.
//...Darn.
T: (Why did it explode? Were you doing anything to it?)
R: I find this is the most distressing part (which is strange, considering just exactly what I'll never get out of my hair): the destruction happened on reaction to an initial Pondeleev probe targeted at the amulet.
Spike: (Huh?)
//Twilight covers the sphere in front of her with a hoof and says:
T: (Basic magical tool. Low-level as you can get.)
R: If I must guess, I'd suppose the spell was placed to prevent magical inspection of the amulet, by destroying it as it has. Which, to me, says this 'Red Helm' army should have a talented mage amongst them.
T: (...Understood. But you're certain nothing's recoverable?)
R: All I'm certain of is a shower and a quite desperate need for this room to be bleached. (It even got on the ceiling, blasted thing...)
T: (Alright, I'll let you go then.)
R: Twilight, be careful. I understand you are the best spellweaver in all of known Equestria, but these ponies showed up out of nowhere. There may be someone you don't know about that you can't handle... unlikely as that may be.
//The dark alicorn I saw comes to mind...
T: (That may be true... I still need to figure out how Mountainville didn't see them before this. But I'm sure I can handle anything thrown at me. And I have a trump card.)
//Twilight winks at me.
R: Trump card or not, get your flank back here in one piece. You do still owe me for covering the bill at the Snaffler, dear.
//She rolls her eyes and snarks:
T: Yeah, love you too, girl.
//And dismisses the spell. I stand back a step, out of shared-air distance.
Spike: (So. No amulet?)
T: (Doesn't look like it. And for the time being, no Warhelm, either. Can you figure out a plan that doesn't include either of them?)
//I think for a moment, acutely aware of the crowd watching us and a pair of medics looking over the broken Champion's body.

Belladonna has suffocated.

Spike: (Can I? Sure. A good plan with a high chance of success? ...How much time do we have?)
T: (...Let's say 'until either one of them revives'. I don't think they'll listen if it gets out we abducted and killed their 'glorious leader'.)
//That's not much time at all! I could go out and talk to them, try to get some of them to see reason, but crowds think as a whole... if it doesn't go well, I'll end up decreasing the amount of people who desert or surrender!
Spike: (Do you think--)
//A buzz of magic lights up the tip of Twilight's horn, like the top of a ship's mast. Confused, she awkwardly tries to stare at it.
T: (What? Who's in my office at a time like--)
//The same two spheres split from Twilight's horn and hover near her head, out of which we both hear:
Unknown Caller: Whoa!
T: (Who are you and why did you call me?)
UC: Oh, uh, Miss -- Dr. Kim! University Cleaning. Sorry for the cold call, but your necklace here has been shouting ever since I walked in. Do you want me to turn it off?
//...Seriously. When an army threatens to take Canterlot and overthrow the monarchy, someone at Canterlot UMS decides 'time to clean the windows!'?
T: (Necklace? ...Shouting?)
UC: Yeah. It's, uh, the grey one. The voice is pretty insistent on getting a response...
//...Wait a minute, that might be...
T: (The grey one?)
//I speak into the ball:
Spike: (Is it an ankh?)
UC: ...Uh, I think it's a 'Jevett'. Whatever that is. So, is there an off switch, or...
//Twilight immediately dismisses the contact spell, then casts another spell that brings a scent of lavender.
The Grey Ankh falls on The Drakeling!
Spike: Ow!
Ankh: --matron of the Forlegsandria dragon district and assistant to Mayor Ellis, stationed southwest of Canterlot, any dragons in the region please respond--
//That must be--
Spike: Jebed! What's going on?
Ankh(Jebed): Is that you, Hero?
Spike: Yeah! Damn, am I glad to hear you.
//Wait, did she say 'stationed southwest of Canterlot'?
Ankh(Jebed): The same. Is it fair to say you know of the Red Helm army?
//...Yes.
Spike: (I killed their Champion in an arena a few minutes ago in a scheme which is no longer working. Does that count?)
//Twilight leans in to listen to the both of us.
Ankh(Jebed): ...Yes. It is our understanding Canterlot is unable to defend itself from this threat at this time. Is this true?
//About to respond, I then pause, and choose another response. I mouth to Twilight:
Spike: ('Our'?)
//She looks at me for a moment, and then her eyes trail off as she nods, thinking.
//There are people with Jebed, most likely dragons. She said 'stationed', and was calling out for all dragons in the region... why does Jebed want to know if Canterlot is properly defended? There's no way she's in the Red Helm army, but... does Jebed have a group of dragons who want revenge on Princess Hazel? Maybe, maybe not, but...
Spike: (Yes. The Red Helm army is disorganized and haphazard, but they have the numbers. If they attack, Canterlot is going to fall. I don't know how many people the Magic Corps and the Avatars can save, but it's not 'all of them'. A lot of innocent people are going to die.)
//The deaths of non-innocent people aren't great, either. If there's a way Jebed can help to save the lives of the Canterlot guard and even the Red Helm Army, as a Hero I should find out!
Ankh(Jebed): ...I understand. Hero, the dragons in this flock have agreed to follow me to combat the Red Helm Army because I've promised them their actions will lead to better pony/dragon relations; I am here because there are a little shy of three dozen reports of drakelings in Canterlot bound forcibly into sexual slavery. Disruptions such as this could cause all of them to be lost.
//Well, if anything, Jebed hasn't changed all that much...
Spike: (How many dragons are with you?)
Ankh(Jebed): Around six hundred. All of whom can fly.
//Six... six hundred, flying, fire-breathing dragons...
//Twilight looks at me, also surprised.
T: (Did she say 'six hundred'?)
//I nod, slowly.
Ankh(Jebed): Many dragons in Forlegsandria consider themselves collectively co-owners of the region with the Equestrian crown. When a protector of a region is threatened, its people are threatened. And few dragons that I know of will accept such a thing.
Spike: (Well, uh, glad I'm on your side, then.)
//A tutting comes from the ankh. Huh?
Ankh(Jebed): Hero, for as long as I lead these dragons, we are on your side. You said you had a scheme in mind?
//Twilight suddenly puts a hoof to her chin, thinking.
Spike: (Not one that will work...)
T: (Hi Jebed, unnamed road scholar here. You said 'this flock'?)
Ankh(Jebed): Yes. From what I understand, another group of dragons from the Aquinatics are flying in from the northwest. They mean to petition the Stable to fund a settlement in the Fillydelphia desert, far from current pony population centers.
T: (What could they possibly want in the desert?)
//Now is not the time to play civic leader, Twilight...
Ankh(Jebed): As I've heard... glass.
//...Huh.
Spike: (How far away are they?)
//Another voice comes out of the ankh, this one much sharper.
Ankh(???): Hero Spike, this is Lieutenant Galsid of the Alicanter Expedition. We are three miles north-northwest of Canterlot, to answer your question.
//Galsid, I swear I've heard that name before, Galsid, where...
//ASK HER HOW HER WING IS DOING
//Oh, right! That dragon!
\\...Oh. Right.
Spike: (Uh... okay.)
Ankh(Galsid): We number one hundred and eighty. If dispatching of the Red Helm Army will stir Canterlot's graces enough for our petition to be heard, I place myself and my troops under your command.
//They sound very military. Then again, one hundred and eighty dragons who survived the Aquinatic Conflict and are brave enough to travel to Canterlot to ask for aid would need discipline...
//The crowd around us suddenly goes silent. Only murmurings run through it.
Zhuque: Hero. Would you mind stepping out for a moment?
//I look about. Pretty much every person, dragon or pony, within eyesight is looking back at me. I shrug my shoulders, and move out into the arena.
//Belladonna is still dead.
Spike: Okay. What is it?
ZQ: It's been the allotted amount of time since Belladonna's death. Our previous Champion was bound to General Warhelm, if you didn't know. But she has not revived as expected.
//I pause. That's odd, we both thought they were bound to each other. And this quartermaster dragon is more likely to know than I...
Spike: So what does that mean?
ZQ: Nothing. It is, by definition, meaningless. It is an impossibility. By all logic, this is not happening.
//...What? That's stupid. I can see Belladonna's body with my eyes. I poke it with a foot, just to be sure.
Spike: ...Is there anything that could stop a drakeling from resurrecting?
//The crowd around us has gone deathly silent, still watching. Few of them if any have returned to their assigned tasks, especially because Warhelm isn't there to give them orders. I see a few runners moving desperately around, trying to look for something. Probably him.
ZQ: (...The only possibility is that, within the universe, there no longer exists a drop of General Warhelm's blood or body. Even if he were in a deadly location, Belladonna's body would burn up and reform in front of us.)
//...She knows.
//SO FUCKING KILL THEM
//Yeah, that won't give me away! Start killing every Red Helm I can see to hide that I'm hostile to the Red Helm Army!
\\...Wait, Rarity said it was a mess in her creation room. Wouldn't that count as 'blood or body'?
ZQ: (I don't know how you've done it, Hero, but congratulations. By killing both of them, you are now the leader of the Red Helms.)
//Is that... is that how that works? I doubt it; General Warhelm wasn't a good fighter, so establishing a policy of 'whoever is the best fighter' as leader would be unwise in the extreme.
\\You're Champion now and he's dead, that's more likely it.
Spike: Uh... Zhuque?
ZQ: Yes, Champion?
//...Maybe now...
Spike: I'd, uh, can I give a speech?
//We look around. A significant portion of the army is around us now, on this hill and the next, just watching and waiting for something to make sense...
ZQ: I wouldn't see a better time for it.
//I motion Twilight over, give her the ankh, and tell her:
Spike: (I'm going to give a speech to try to convince them to surrender. If it doesn't work, teleport out of here. I don't want you to be hurt.)
//...I'm not exactly sure why I said that last part. Twilight is still way more powerful than me.
//She opens her mouth for a moment, says nothing, and then rolls her eyes.
T: (Cute. But you really think this will work? There are better ways to start a fight.)
Spike: (Twilight... just trust me.)
\\...At the end of the day, if you can't trust your friends, who can you trust?
Spike: (Tell Galsid to get her dragons to roar in sixty seconds or so. As loud as they can. And Jebed for hers to roar ten seconds after that.)
//I need to time the dragon roars right so it convinces them they're outmatched, surrounded and the only option is surrender. Here's hoping I can come up with something grandiose in such a short time...
Spike: (...And tell Rarity someone's probably in her house.)
//I don't know who could possibly have the will and ability to erase Warhelm completely from existence, but I doubt they're one to respect private property...
//Twilight trots away, dismissive, and I start my grand speech:

Spike: Uh... hi.
//FUCKING GREAT WHAT ARE YOU AT FUCKAHOLICS ANONYMOUS
//I hear sniffs from the gathered ponies, many in tengu masks, and a cough. Someone far in the back says 'hi'.
Spike: My name is Spike. I'm a Hero, and now, I'm your Champion.
//The way I'm saying it and the strange circumstances abound means no one cheers for that.
Spike: To tell the truth, my reason for coming here isn't to join the Red Helm Army and help you take Canterlot. The real reason I came here...
//IS TO SCORE POINTS WITH YOUR PURPLE POT-OF-HOLE AT THE END OF THE FUCKBOW?
Spike: ...is to--
The Pony throws a gabbro stone at The Drakeling! The spinning gabbro stone strikes The Drakeling in the head from the side, cracking the scale, bruising the muscle and bruising the skull!
Spike: Aagh!!
//I clutch the side of my head and wince. That really fucking hurt!!
Zhuque: Are you okay?
Spike: Who did that? Huh?! Who was that?!
//A painful headache starts as I dart my eyes back and forth between segments of the crowd. I think I'm bleeding...
The Drakeling picks up the gabbro stone.
Spike: Who threw this stone?! I want to know! Right now!!
//Angry, I stare at ponies from that side. Even behind the tengu masks, they cough and avoid my gaze, shuffling their hooves about.
Spike: If the pony who threw this stone doesn't own up to it I'm going to find him and shove it so far up his--
//From north-northeast a great roar erupts, one hundred and eighty dragons vocalizing the struggle and the pain of living under constant fear, the threat of death hanging over them every single day for twenty months on end, and the unfathomable rage to lash out against anything and everything living in such a way would cause. Each are, in their own way, an imitation of Quine's terrible cry, and combined they almost reach its volume.
//A new panic sets in for many of the Red Helm soldiers. Wide eyes and shifty hooves abound, nervousness heightened.
Zhuque: What in blazes?
//Oh, right, I was going to give a speech here.
Spike: I was _going_ to let you all surrender on good terms, but then _someone_ decided to--
//Southwest, close enough to be the bottom of the hill we are on, an encroaching wall of air strikes like a tidal wave. Grass stands on end and whips back and forth in the burst. A stampede of wildlife, critters small and big, flood out from the woods around the Red Helm camps, scrambling to find a different shelter. Things made of glass shatter in the distance, and every tent in sight falls down or is knocked over, but I can't hear any of these things. The only thing to be heard, for miles on end, is the sound of dragons trying to tear the ground open with only their voices, and nearly succeeding.
//After eternity, the sound stops. I pop my ears a few times and open my eyes.
//Most of the Red Helm Army looks stricken with paralysis. Those who dare to move watch the skies, fearful for their impending doom, or take cover.
\\If the first was the sound of people who have lost everything dear to them, that was the sound of people who haven't yet.
Ankh(Jebed): ...Beat you~.
Spike: ...but then _someone_ decided to throw a rock at the dude who's talking! And that's not how civilization works! You don't throw rocks at people for talking!!
//There's scuffling and a little protest to my right. I turn that way and demand:
Spike: What is it?!
Unidentified Pony: It was Pin.
//A stallion freezes, pushing against another to try to get away. I stare him down.
Spike: You! Turn around!
//Slowly, he does. Warhelm must have trained these soldiers to obey the person shouting the loudest.
Pretty Scared: P-P-Pinpoint Striker reporting for duty, s-sir.
Spike: (Pinpoint Striker. What kind of sadistic parents did he have?)
Twilight Sparkle: (The Strikers are a well-known family in Stalliongrad.)
//But who names their son 'Pinpoint'?
Spike: Did you throw this rock at me?
//He gulps and doesn't answer. Someone prods him.
PS: Uh... no?
//Convincing.
//I turn to the rest of the crowd and shout:
Spike: Well, I _was_ here to get your conditions for surrender. As Champion and current leader it's my responsibility to negotiate with leaders on the Equestrian side, many of whom I know personally. But because _Pinhead_ here--
//I point directly at him with a finger, singling him out in front of everybody--
Spike: Decided to be an _asshole_ I'm not giving you that option! You can surrender unconditionally or get eaten by dragons, your choice! And I don't care either way!
Zhuque: How many did you say there were?
Spike: (Only seven hundred.)
//Zhuque scratches the scales on her neck, looking away from me. I rub my head. It still really fucking hurts.
Spike: And you have _sixty seconds_ before I decide to say 'screw it let them die' and go look for some aspirin.
//I visually search through the crowd, meeting eyes every so often. Some ponies are starting to gallop off, some look angry at Pinpoint Striker, some at me. For the most part, though, terrified regret is abound.
\\Who says you need an amulet to talk to people, when the alternative is a dragon's stomach?

[[SAVE LOCATION]]

//T: Spike, I need to look over some records being held in Mountainville. I'll be gone for a couple of days.
//She finishes bandaging my head, and tears the gauze with her teeth. Slobber gets on my ear.
//Spike: Is that the, uh, magic-in-coins thing?
//T: Magic in coins? What are you talking about?
//Spike: ...(She's still lying to me.)
//T: Maybe there's a way to figure out where this army came from. Now that they've surrendered the ponies in it need a place to go.
//Spike: The dragons do too.
//T: It's a figure of speech, Spike. I've been looking since you mentioned them in Quine's lair, and haven't found anything yet... but the army couldn't have just popped up from out of the ground.
//Someone else's army was going to...

//Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.
//I stumble towards a hotel in inner Canterlot, covered by the darkness of the protection spell still over the city. Strange how the inner parts of other cities are considered dangerous, where in Canterlot the deeper you get to the heart of the city (and therefore closer to the Castle), the more regal it becomes. Covered with blood, mud, and sand; burnt by dragonfire and lava; probably reeking of everything I've been through since leaving Fillydelphia (though that part wasn't so bad); bandage over missing scalefeathers, plucked to let my wound swell... I'm the most disgusting thing anyone in this area has seen in probably years.
//The doorpony opens the door for me anyway. I thank him, walk ten steps, trip by accident and smash my head into the front desk.
Spike: Ow, agh, shit!!
//The same fucking spot!!
Assistant: Skies! Sir, are you alright?
//THE ANSWER TO THAT SHIT IS PERPETUALLY NO
//It still isn't the most pain I've felt on my journey...
Spike: Gah, yeah.
//The assistant, before I'm done answering, walks around the desk and helps me up. Nice guy. Then again, he's being paid to be.
Assistant: Are you certain, sir? That was a nasty fall. Is there anyone I can call for you?
Spike: Yeah, see if you can get Celestia on the line. 'Till then, I'd like a bed.
//The room is an accessory in my current state.
Assistant: Why, of course, sir. Just follow me, if you please.
//He levitates a key off of its hook and slowly walks to the elevator, staying next to me. I lean on him for support, and don't even remember the rest.

//A haze starts up, perpendicular to all the other hazes, but it does not cut them short.
Celestia: Spike.
Spike: Zzz... no, give me back my pants, this is an outrage...
C: Do you normally wear pants?
Spike: They... parents make... school...
C: Yes, your parents. Whom you do know, and weren't taken from early as an egg.
Spike: Eggs... always morning, but never breakfast... zzzz...
C: Spike, this is Celestia. Please, wake up.
Spike: No, zzzz... I don't wear make-up...
C: ...It seems you are in a very deep sleep. Every level of your mind is resting.
Spike: Hee hee hee... I get it, now... 'Bonemeal?' Guess I am crazy...
//The tall, white figure stares at the curled drakeling, mane dragged by a missing wind.
C: Take your well-earned rest, my Hero. Let it never be said the greatest mare in the world turns from her charges. I have watched over you since I bathed you in the Lethe by your ankle, and will until the end of your days.
Spike: Greatest thing in world... inability of mind... correlate all contents... zzzz...
C: If you do recall any of this conversation, know this: you have pleased me greatly by your actions. But also know, that until you have defeated the false Princess, all your work will have been for naught...
Spike: Zzzz... fortnight... burning oil... they don't make bath towels out of sandpaper, do they...
C: Destroy the false Princess, Hero Spike. Kill her. And you shall know a reward beyond compare...
//The goddess fades, and the drakeling returns to his dreams.

//I wake up in the late afternoon, well rested. Yawning, I scratch a few places that haven't had a good scratching in a while and tear off the loose bandage. Is it the same day as it was, or did I sleep thirty hours straight? Ah, who cares? I'm devilishly hungry anyway, so there's no way to tell. The blinds are open and the sun is passing behind Canterlot Castle, throwing oranges across the sky. (The color, not the fruit.)
//Something in my dreams feels important, but I can't grasp it. Like a jigsaw puzzle where someone's shaved edges off half the pieces, so none of it fits together and it all looks jagged... oh well, they're only dreams.
//Speaking of oranges (the fruit kind), the dresser at the end of the bed has a fruit basket. Guess this is a swankier place than I first thought. And... someone has put a sheet over me. Huh. Well, hope they don't charge extra for cleaning that; I'm filthy.
//I stuff whole fruits down my face for a while and then move on to the (huge!) bathroom, using a bunch of _things_ (I mean, there's soap, but there's so much more!) that smell like vanilla and feel like silk. For half a moment I even regret not having a mane to use the shampoo on. I walk out of the bathroom, feeling pounds lighter, quite a bit cleaner, and regretful I ate so much fruit.
//Rubbing my tail down with a towel (I'd breathe fire, but everything in here is flammable and it looked fluffy), I notice two slips of paper slid under the door. I pick up the first.
::Welcome to Fancypants Suites, located at luxurious 22 Acacia Lane! We hope your stay here is the highlight of your time in Canterlot! Please enjoy the complementary fruit basket and mini-bar!
//Whoo, there's a mini-bar?!
::Here at Fancypants Suites, all of our friendly staff and personnel are here for you! Feel free to talk to anyone in a white uniform if there are any issues with your accommodations! For convenience, your key has been attached to this card.
//That's followed by an underline which is blank:
::_____________, we're happy to serve you!
//Hah, yeah, they wouldn't know who I am. I should tell them my name; being a Hero means accountability and increasing my renown. I take the key off the card and put it... uh. I don't have a bag anymore, right. I hold it in my hand.
//The other side of the card has pay rate information.
Spike: So. It seems like they've confused me with one of those dragons who has a hoard.
//Let's... not tell them my name.
//I put that aside and pick up the second note (after drying the inside of an ear with the towel), which only says:
::Paid your bill. Room 511. I want to talk. ~A Hero's Friend
//Well. That's troubling.
\\Also means the mini-bar is open for raiding!
//I want to figure out what this note is about, is there anything on the back... nothing. Huh. It smells slightly of... something which I can't find in my head, there's an arrow leading to nowhere where there should definitely be something.
//After memorizing Room 511, I light the second note on fire, hide the room key in my displacement cape, put it on and exit the room.
//My door says '549'. So that means...
//Bright, light blue hallways stretch off in three directions. Sleek architecture lets most of the natural light in, but the sun is fading quickly and magical lights are starting to turn on inside. Numbers are decreasing that way. I stalk along the inner wall of the hallway, on the tips of my toes.
//The sound of a voice can be heard, for the briefest moment, then fades away. Same direction as I'm moving... I sneak a little faster.
//There we go, this one is 519. It should be at the end of the hallway. The sun hits me in the face from the right, obscuring me with its glare; stupid sun... Huh, that reminds me of the darkness spell cast over Canterlot. If it's been dismissed, whoever cast it thinks there's not a threat anymore; maybe I have slept a long time.
//I lay flush up against the wall, holding my tail out so it doesn't scrape and make noise. Closer, closer, closer...
\\Are those hooves around the corner--
//Before I can react, a gentlestallion in a pinstriped suit and tie rounds the corner far in front of me, head held high. We exchange a long stare as I freeze in place clinging the wall, while he continues to walk towards me. The stallion slows down as he approaches, barely walking at all a few feet from me, and then, within normal speaking distance, stops completely.
//I look back at him, wide-eyed, still frozen.
//The gentlestallion blinks twice, raises his eyebrows, and keeps going.
//WOW WHAT A WEIRDO
//Crawling further down the hallway, the voice I heard gets closer, and I can make it out consistently now... it's a female voice, a loud one, that reverberates and carries a tune with it -- no, is she singing? ...That is definitely singing. And... wow, I can barely hear what the song is, but damn can that girl sing. It must be a lament. I've never heard anything like it. No one I know can evoke that sort of emotion with words, and I'm not even hearing them.
//REALLY? WHAT ABOUT A SUMMARY OF YOUR FUCKING USELESS JOURNEY, THAT WOULD EVOKE ENOUGH FUCKING SORROW IN ME TO QUALIFY
//I grab the (hoof-friendly) handle and silently open the door. A beautiful pony is standing at an open window, belting her heart out. One more couplet, and then her voice fades away, whispering:
Singing Beauty: And so the world does end/With these six little words:/'I have to save them all.'
//I stand, for a short while, just looking. This unicorn's fur is white, the color of cream, and meticulously groomed. Her hair rolls and tumbles in curling bunches of pink and purple, like cumulus clouds with striations, or soft pillow with a grain. Average sized for a mare (and therefore above-sized for a unicorn), with... curves in very specific (and flattering) places, a red barn swallow adorns her flank.
\\That lipstick... is the exact color of blood. It looks like she just drank someone's bodily fluids.
Spike: ...
\\Well, not those ones, obviously.
Spike: That... was beautiful.
//Hearing me, she turns her head from the window slightly, meets my eye for a second, and then looks down.
SB: ...I know.
//For just a second, I check that this is Room 511, then I step in and close the door.
Spike: You, uh, left me a note under my door.
//I take off the displacement cape and hang it on the coat rack, noting a red grossular on a table in the living area.
SB: ...Yes, I did. Hi, Spike. My name is Sweetie Belle.
//Suppressing the urge to mention that I'm Spike, I ask:
Spike: ...Are you going to keep staring out that window?
//She smiles.
Sweetie Belle: I'm looking at the sun. I have to start work in an hour.
//It's almost night! Who works at this time? Does she dig graves?
Sweetie Belle: ...But there are more important things than money. Not that you'd ever be able to tell my sister that.
//Sweetie Belle turns swiftly, walks over to a long pillow set on the floor, and lays down on it, getting comfortable. I decide to stand.
Spike: So why did you call me here?
//From the living area, she summons a fancy drink, and then a toothpick with an olive on it.
SB: ...A lot of reasons. Not all of them that good...
//I don't have time for this.
Spike: Listen, as I'm sure you know, I'm a Hero. Which means in my life the one thing I possibly do not lack is a multitude of crazy mysterious bints giving me unsolicited cryptic puzzles. So if you'd be kind enough to just _get the hell on with it_--
//She puts down her drink and says:
SB: Sorry, sorry! I know you're a busy stallion. Er, well, you know what I mean. I promise, just listen to me and I'll give you the Element of Generosity.
//...
Spike: _What_?!
SB: I--
Spike: How do you have the Element of Generosity?! Who are you?! Were you the one who eradicated General Warhelm?!
//She looks about to say something, and then in response to the last question:
SB: I -- what?
Spike: Did you defeat the Avatar of Avarice and take it? Are you a Hero?!
//Sweetie Belle, fed up, shouts:
SB: Spike!
//I calm down, but only on the outside. Who could this person be?
SB: Rarity is my _sister_. Whether she acknowledges it or not.
//...Oh. That... explains how she knows who I am.
SB: Rarity called me 'cause she needed help cleaning up her creation room. But when I arrived, the room was spotless, and she was still in the shower. So I got angry and took it.
//...'The room was spotless'. So Warhelm's body _was_ destroyed, sometime between Rarity talking to us and Sweetie Belle coming over.
Spike: You stole an Element of Harmony... because you were miffed at your sister?
//That seems like an overreaction.
SB: That's not the only reason. ...I heard about your accident.
Spike: Accident?
//What is she talking about?
//YEAH LET'S SEE IS IT THE FOREST FIRE OR THE DOUBLE MURDER SHIT OR KILLING THE TWO PEOPLE WHO COULD GIVE YOU A FUCKING LEAD ON WHAT THE HELL THE RED HELMS WERE ACTUALLY FUCKING DOING
//Hey! I had every reason to believe they'd both be alive after what I did!
SB: Two months ago. In Everfree Forest.
//What, with Kezno?
\\No, no; she's talking about your memory loss.
//Oh! Right.
Spike: ...Yeah. I lost all of my memories. I had no idea who I was, what I was doing there, or anything about the world at all.
SB: ...I heard that. For the longest time, I'm not sure if I believed it.
Spike: Were we friends? Before I hit my head?
SB: Hit your head?
//Sweetie Belle and I stare at each other, thinking. She must have contacts that make her irises bigger, I swear...
SB: The way Rarity made it sound was like Twilight cast a spell on you.
//Hold on. Twilight acted like I hit my head, and was checking me over for injuries...
//Spike: ...what kind of idiot would I be to trust the first person I meet after waking up?
//Would she really... could she really lie to me about something so important? I don't know if I want to start thinking like that... maybe Rarity assumed too much. Or maybe Sweetie Belle misheard.
Spike: ...Yeah. I hit my head.
SB: ...We were friendly, Spike. At least I'd say so. I mean, you weren't all bad for a boy, but you spent most of your time with Twilight and her friends.
Spike: I see.
//A sadness creeps into Sweetie Belle's eyes. She looks away from me, staring into her (full) drink.
SB: ...I saw you a lot more in Canterlot, actually. After... you know about the marriage?
Spike: ...Yeah.
//Again, I should have been told all of this crap at the beginning.
\\You brushed off Twilight when she offered to! What are you complaining about?!
//...I still stand by that decision. And with this new information, that I may never have hit my head at all... I'm not sure I can trust Twilight any more. If she's been willing to lie to me from the beginning, all this time.
\\...You do realize that makes _zero_ sense?
SB: You... we... Rarity decided that I, as... the way I am, wasn't fit to be an Avatar's sister. Especially for an Avatar wanting to establish herself within Equestria's upper classes. You were always trying to convince her to reconcile with me, even though it never worked out.
//She stares off into nothingness, a smile breaking on her lips. A sip of the glass leaves no lipstick prints.
SB: ...I liked that about you. You were always trying to see the best in people. Rarity... expects people to be there when she needs or wants them, and to get out of the way when she doesn't. Like me, disowned as a sister and sworn to distance, but still called when there's a body to dispose of... or you, I hear, in Twilight's old library.
//I remember that! At the time, I thought it was really rude. Now, looking back... it's almost quaint. Is it bad I've gotten so used to being assaulted?
SB: Nevermind the traumatic experience that losing your memory must be, or that you were never told up to that point you had been married; Rarity was horny and that was that. What a way to treat someone you love!
Spike: Sweetie Belle, if you don't mind me asking: why doesn't Rarity want you as a sister?
//Here's hoping 'perpetually luring her husbands into a hotel and murdering them' isn't the answer.
//Night has fallen outside, the skies shades of violet and bruised blue. It's not a new moon anymore, but barely enough to see by. Sweetie Belle smiles, amused, and looks at me, but not in the eye.
SB: Je suis une jument de la nuit.
Spike: Uh, yeah, I get that your lipstick is blood red but vampires aren't real.
//She giggles, rolling over slightly on her pillow, and continues:
SB: I'm a call girl.
Spike: Oh, like that magical contact spell? You call people in the middle of the night and ask them to take surveys? Heck, I'd disown you.
//Sweetie Belle looks me straight in the eye and says:
SB: Spike -- I'm a prostitute.
//...Oh.
//I put my hands on my hips.
Spike: Well why didn't you just say that?
SB: Because... some people don't like to be told things how they are.
//Euphemisms protect people from having to accept reality.
Spike: ...She didn't want to be associated with you because the uptight, stodgy folk she's trying to get in with don't appreciate that sort of thing.
//Just like Twilight didn't mention our marriage...
//Sweetie Belle chuckles.
SB: Yeah. Joke's on her, though. Mom and Pop don't talk to either of us now.
//...What?
//RBD: ..._She woke up at her funeral and saw her family walk out on her for having a dragon mate_.
//Heh. Guess the apple doesn't fall too far from the... other apple.
SB: I tried. I really did. When I came to Canterlot, I was going to be a singer. Fresh cutie mark -- a songbird, no less -- and a head full of fanciful ideas, with no way to turn them into rent. The reality is... slaving away gig after gig to make ends meet, wearing your voice away for people who don't appreciate you and hoping, beyond any reason, that somehow you'll be the one in a million to be noticed and get a big record deal and make it. Instead of the nine hundred thousand and so on who don't.
//...I'm sure this personal tale of finding oneself when expectation is different than reality is riveting to some people, but I have an Element to collect, so if we could hurry it along?
SB: ...It was easy. After a gig, one of the managers was cute, and... in the morning, when he offered me money, I just didn't say no. I made a decision that day to not go hungry any more.
\\Well, if the money's there, and she chose to do it...
SB: I like my job. It's challenging, and fun, and nobody gets hurt. I like what I do and I do only what I like. The customers are always friendly... and I do use my special talent at work, from time to time, except there's not as many words in it.
//That sentence could have been said without the wink, I feel.
SB: Sure, I have to be careful, but safety's an issue in any job. And with the money I'm making? Bodyguards throw themselves at me so they can hang out in hotel lobbies and drink beer as I work. Heck, next year I'll be a legal adult and could even join a union!
//...You know, I was with her completely, up until that last part.
//YEAH FUCK UNIONS
Spike: Could we get back to the Element?
//I'm not your parents; I don't care what you do with your genitals.
//YOU'RE NOT GOING TO FIND OUT IF YOUR WIFE'S SISTER IS BETTER?
SB: ...Okay. I took the Element because I was angry at her. But I'm giving it to you because you deserve it, if the rumors going around about the Red Helm Army are any true. And if you're still the Spike I once knew, you'll only do good with it.
//Sweetie Belle casts a spell with her horn, and from the living area floats the Element of Generosity, a golden necklace with a diamond as a centerpiece. It sets on the floor in front of me.
SB: And besides, usually when a marriage is over each person gets at least part of the stuff.
//I take the Element of Generosity and put it around my neck with the other four Elements.

Spike has acquired The Element of Generosity!
[5/5] Elements acquired!
Congratulations!!! All Elements acquired!!!

[[SAVE LOCATION]]

//...It feels strange, just being given the Element like this. I didn't have to do anything for it, or prove my worth in any trial... but of any Element for that to be true, I suppose it'd be this one.
//The Element of Generosity has something engraved on the back. 'Ars, quae est vitae 'simulacrum'...'
SB: And -- I'm not nearly the spellcaster she is, but the spell nexus was just on the table...
The Unicorn points at The Drakeling with her horn and casts Revelation!
[Scythereach] was mastered!
Spike: I didn't think that'd actually work.
//There was no text about 'like xxx through his blood' at all!
\\Hold on a moment, Scythereach? Isn't that the sword move Belladonna used against you? Why would you learn a sword move?
//JUST A BIT OF INSURANCE
SB: I guess this is where I leave you, Spike. I have a client meeting coming up and your Heroism keeps you busy, I'm sure.
//Sweetie Belle stands up, and finishes her drink. She then winks at me and smiles:
SB: But if you ever find time in your questing schedule to relax, I do offer very competitive rates...
//Does she remember she's my sister-in-law?
Spike: ...Don't take this the wrong way, Sweetie Belle, but there is absolutely no way I will take you up on that offer.
//She shrugs, and walks out.
SB: Oh well. You can't win 'em all.
//After closing the window, and quietly wondering what to do next, I grab the grossular from the other room and turn off the lights on my way out.

//...
\\...
//ELLIPSIS
Spike: You know, no one ever mentioned that Canterlot Castle was so _big_...
//The castle looms up in front of me, almost one-hundred and eighty degrees of my vision even standing outside castle grounds. It blocks off the night sky, replacing stars with lights all up and down the many towers, people doubtlessly working into the night. I'm sure the surrender of the Red Helm Army made Canterlot's suppliers of paper very happy.
//It's hard to go on about the marble, gold, royal banners, detailed carvings, well-dressed patrols and immaculate cobblestone walkways. As soon as I talk about one, I'm choosing not to mention the thousand other items of its kind and quality.
//That's really the most amazing part about Castle Canterlot, I think: not that any of the artwork and architecture is so far beyond the level of quality to be found in a noblepony's mansion (it _is_ adequately beyond that level, just to be complete), but the vast quantity of such maintained quality...
Passing Guard: Any idea what he's standing there for?
Other Guard: Probably a tourist. Happens to a lot of 'em.
//Nibbling the last of the grossular, I walk to the garden entrance. A broad pony, with unshorn fetlocks and a badge, is talking quietly to another guard. His badge has a big dent in it, but she's nodding every couple of words anyway.
\\Well, here we go; you have all five Elements of Harmony (whether you earned any of them or not), and you're legally the Hero of the Land, it's your right to be here so just walk up and act casual, nothing's wrong--
Badge Pony: Oh. Hi there, Spike.
//That's a little bit too casual!!
Spike: Uh -- hello. How do you know who I am?
//He looks over me quickly and noses towards my shoulder.
Badge Pony: Your cape's on backwards.
//Give me a break, clothes are confusing.
BP: Hmm. Mind if I ask what you're doing with that many Elements of Harmony?
Spike: Oh, I just, you know, thought... I'm a Hero, so I'm here to see Princess Hazel.
//The badged pony scrunches up his forehead, bemused.
BP: Wait, _you're_ the Hero Twilight's been telling me about all this time?
//Hold on, how does he know Twilight? I thought she was pretending to be dead?
//Na-Mira: Right, so I looked for family. But she only has a brother, who's captain of the guard at Canterlot Castle, so...
//...Oh.
Nodding Pony: Uh, Shining Armor, sir, infosec protocols say--
Shining Armor: I wrote those protocols, Nopheratu. And besides, this guy is basically my nephew.
//That's not true -- oh, he means back when Twilight raised me. Before the memory loss.
Spike: So, uh, you heard about the accident?
SA: I'd heard about the... you know, separation and all. You and Rarity. But I didn't know it was caused by amnesia. I'm sorry, dude, that must have been really hard on you.
//Strangely enough, it was pretty easy. But then, most people don't regularly have limbs broken in their line of work.
Spike: Hey, I'm over it now. I'm a new drakeling, ready to take on the world and all its challenges!
SA: Sounds great! Nopheratu, could you get his information?
//Nopheratu pulls a clipboard from the belt on her side and holds a pen in her mouth.
NP: Name?
Spike: Spike.
NP: And your last name?
//Last name? Do I have a last name?
Spike: Uh...
NP: We've had three Spikes visit in the last two weeks. What's your last name?
//I sincerely doubt it would be 'Sparkle'.
Spike: Uh, 'the Dragon'.
//Nopheratu looks at me for a while, before Shining Armor motions for her to write it down. Somewhere in the gardens, a frog croaks.
NP: Reason for your visit?
//SAY YOU'RE THE PRINCE OF THE SLAG EMPIRE. GO ON, IT'LL BE FUCKING HILARIOUS. SHE'LL GET A KICK OUT OF IT.
Spike: Pri-- I'm a Hero, and I've collected all the Elements of Harmony.
SA: Put down 'diplomatic visit'.
//As she writes that down, Shining Armor explains:
SA: Heroes of the Land are meant to be state secrets. They're unaccountable to the general public by nature.
//It's true that I hold myself accountable to people's greater good, but there's no mechanism forcing me to do that. I kind of understand. But it will be hard to become a shining symbol of interspecies relations when my existence is kept under wraps by law...
NP: Do you want to receive offers in the mail about deals on Castle Tours and Gift Shop merchandise--
SA: Okay, I think we're done here.
Spike: So, what, do I walk in?
SA: Unless you want to skip merrily. The Avatars are waiting for you in the great hall, and when you're done with them, the Princess should be ready to meet you in the throne room.
Spike: The Avatars? Why are they here?
SA: ...The law says you have to defeat them in combat before getting an audience with the Princess. Did no one tell you that?
//They most certainly should have!!
//THIS FUCKER REALLY KNOWS HIS STUFF. WHY DOESN'T HE SPEND MORE TIME WITH HIS FAMILY? I'M CURIOUS, FIND OUT FOR ME.
//No.
Spike: ...
SA: I'm confident it won't be an issue for you. But, hey, it's getting late, and I don't want to keep you. If there isn't anything else, you can go on in.
//ASK HIM IF HE'S BRAINWASHED LIKE HIS SISTER. ASK HIM IF HE THINKS HIS CHILD IS IN HEAVEN. SHE TASTED DELICIOUS TORN RIGHT FROM THE WOMB.
Spike: ...Have a nice night.
SA: You too.
NP: You too, sir.
//I walk through the castle gardens, planning frantically.

//The Avatars, all five of them, are assembled in the great hall of Castle Canterlot. Temptation and Avarice lay on decorative couches near the center of the room, looking comfortable. Speed is hovering in the air, circling the group slowly as she talks. Strength leans against a pillar, watching the entrances. Luck tries to figure out a set of nesting Princess dolls on the floor with the greatest confusion.
//...Wait, how would those work?
RBD: All I'm saying is, we should be out there!
AJ: Hold your horses, Dash. It's been three days since the Element of Generosity was stolen. Spike could be comin' in any moment now.
//Hold on, three days? I slept for... more than fifty hours straight?
RBD: Why don't we just get Twilight to scry on it?
FS: Twilight is very busy right now. The surrender of the Red Helm Army has to be taken care of in an orderly manner. She's the only pony for the job.
AJ: As if Equestria didn't already have a problem with surrendered dragons! Good gravy, girl, d'y'all want her to drop dead of exhaustion?
//Pinkie Pie's stomach rumbles.
PP: Oooh, gravy, I could go for some gravy right now...
//A patrolpony's torch filters through stained glass windows on the north side of the hall. It moves down the line, lighting up each mosaic in turn.
RBD: We can't find someone else to do it? I'm sure there are some dorks at CUMS--
R: --It's 'Canterlot UMS', dear--
RBD: --who'd do it in a heartbeat if Fluttershy winks at them.
//Fluttershy gets a bit brighter in the cheeks and sinks deeper into her couch.
R: Firstly there's the problem of scrying itself: it takes quite a bit of magical power. Twilight is the only one known to try it with any success. And then, there are appearances to keep up. How would it reflect on the crown if we walked into the University and asked, 'please find my Element for me, I think it's with my house keys'?
//The Avatar of Luck giggles, and she rolls over once, looking at the dolls from her back. Fluttershy whispers:
FS: (Pinkie Pie... your, um... 'end'... is showing.)
//Pinkie Pie sticks out a tongue and says:
PP: So?
//Fluttershy opens her mouth again to add more, but decides not to and buries her nose in the cushion instead.
//A figure painted vague enters the hall from the far side, pushing a cart filled with pastries, pies, cakes, desserts of all kinds...
AJ: Besides, think of the timin'. Aquinatic Conflict ends two weeks ago, buncha dragons got nowhere to go and nothin' to keep 'em occupied but pent-up hate. Then the Red Helms surrender, got thousands of ponies far from their homes -- also criminals, I reckon, guilty of treason -- all geared up for war. Rainbow Dash, you and I are the last two ponies who should be out there doin' anythin'!
FS: Dash, you're brave and true and just a wonderful flyer. But right now, Equestria needs a pony with subtlety. A pony who's willing to compromise.
PP: So why aren't you out there, Fluttershy?
//The cart stops on a bump in the carpet, but nothing spills off it, and no one looks over.
FS: I... I couldn't. I'd be too scared, it's just so important...
R: Fluttershy, don't sell yourself short. You told me about what a number you did on Mayor Ellis's electoral opponent -- whose name escapes me right now -- but frankly any pony in the world would bend over backward for you if you'd just use your powers more.
FS: Oh, no, I don't want them to! It's unfair of me. People should think what they want to think, not...
PP: ...Agree 'cause you're wiggling your butt at them?
RBD: Hold on, are we talking about the guy who was found unconscious, in front of City Hall, in full black leather and with two--
R: It's fair to say that may have cost him the election.
FS: ...Jebed asked me to. I couldn't turn her down knowing how much it meant for her to ask...
AJ: So Twilight's out there. She's like... Goldilocks! Not too little compromise, not too much. Just the right amount.
//Pastries approach the gathered Avatars at a medium pace now, still unnoticed. 'Swings, why does this hall have to be so big...
AJ: Heck, I'd be surprised if she couldn't swing a twofer and get the Red Helm varmints sent into the desert with the dragons.
R: I'm looking forward to what they're going to build out of glass. Desert nights are so romantic; starry sky over milky sands, just cold enough for cuddling up with someone next to you...
RBD: Great, it'll be another Mountainville.
PP: What's wrong with that?
//The cart stops completely a few feet from Pinkie Pie, in front of all the Avatars. Applejack steps away from the pillar, suddenly wondering why she hadn't noticed it at all. Pinkie Pie rolls upright, eyes wide.
PP: Oooh! That looks delicious!
RBD: I wouldn't mind a slice of that!
FS: Oh, apple crisp. I wonder if it's as good as yours, Applejack?
AJ: Wait a minute...
R: It looks like the kitchen staff noticed how long we've been here and made us a little something. How generous of them.
//I take off the displacement cape and put it next to the cart.
Spike: ...Not exactly.