So many things bothered me these past few years. Things I couldn’t answer, or didn’t want to know the answer to. I want to blame somepony, but who is there to blame? I can’t trust any of them to have told me the truth of the matter. Oh, Fine takes responsibility, and Octavia acts all guilty whenever we graze the subject, but who is really responsible? I don’t think I’ll ever know, but it’s always been in the back of my head.

Fine used to say that the truth is for ponies who lack imagination. It’s a bit of a joke. I know that, but sometimes I just want to tear his head off. My life isn’t a joke. My eyes aren’t a joke. Amethyst and Trixie are not jokes!

Do I blame him? Yes. But I also blame Octavia. It was her plan, her ponies, her lack of preparation. Then there’s Surprise. How could I possibly not blame her? I know she doesn’t think like normal ponies, that it’s all just a big game to her… but sometimes, when I look into her eyes, I swear I see just the tiniest hint of regret there.

Regret is not enough. There are nights when I lie awake in the eternal darkness and wish I could make them aware of what they put us through. Then I ponder on that darkness, and the light that never comes. Those are the moments that make me cry, because I always realize that any amount of revenge won’t make a difference. I’m here, for better or for worse, and I have to live with it.

Amethyst. If ever you learn the truth about your surrogate sister, I hope to all that is holy that you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.

—Vinyl Scratch, Book of Shadows XLVIII

May 26, 1007

A doppelganger stared back at Vinyl, a creature that had her eyes and mane and colors, but otherwise didn’t seem real. She shifted her head one way; it followed. She took in the messy tangle of hair on its head, the roughness of its coat and the bags under its bloodshot eyes. At least the bandage wrapped around its head just below the horn was clean. That was something, wasn’t it?

She trudged out of the bathroom and into her suite on the King Bullion. After two days of trying, she knew there was no point going to the door. The guards would be there, as they always were. She made her way to the massive window and rested with her legs over the couch’s backrest, gazing upon the skyport and all its dullness. With a heavy sigh, she looked up to the clouds drifting overhead. One of them reminded her of a manticore.

Despair struck before she had a chance to fight back. Vinyl collapsed in a heap and wept for her uselessness. The fear and gut-wrenching anxiety refused to leave, but far worse was the understanding that she could do nothing. Her sisters were somewhere out there, and all she’d been able to do was sit here. What could possibly be more distressing?

Her ears perked to the sound of a cough. Rubbing her eyes furiously, she raised her head to investigate the sound. What she discovered was a mare sitting in one of the large chairs against the wall. The very first thing to run through Vinyl’s mind was that the pony was extremely attractive. Her grey coat was clean and shining beyond anything Vinyl could ever hope to achieve, and her dark mane fell off her shoulders in a way that could only be described as perfect. And then there were her eyes: magnificent mulberry pools that drew her into a soft, calm face.

Vinyl realized she was staring and promptly shook her head to clear it. “Who are you?” she grumbled. “How’d you get in here?”

“My name is Octavia, and they let me in.” The pony smiled, and the sight of it made Vinyl wish she were more presentable. “I wanted to speak with you.”

“Well, I’m not entertaining visitors right now.” Vinyl turned away, resting her chin on the backrest of her couch. “The guards already asked me enough. You part of their investigation?”

“I’m part of an investigation, but not directly aimed at you.”

“Hmm…” Vinyl considered the answer, trying to come up with possibilities. After a while she glanced back at her visitor. “The rebels?”

Octavia nodded with a pleased smile. “It’s my job to deal with them.”

“Your job?” Vinyl turned back to take a closer look at the pony. There was some muscle on her, certainly, but even so… “You don’t look like the military type. And what kind of name is ‘Octavia’ for a soldier?”

“I’m not in the military, Miss Scratch.” Octavia pressed a hoof to her chest. “I come from a… ‘special’ organization, the kind that is called upon to deal with Equestria’s bigger problems.”

“Yeah, like who?” Vinyl rolled her eyes. “The Archons, maybe?”

The quiet that followed was a blanket, settling upon her with more and more heft as the two gazed upon one another. Octavia didn’t flinch. She merely waited with an expectant smile that no longer matched her eyes. Vinyl waited for the punch line, but with every passing second her heart twisted a little more. Before she knew it, she was inching away.

The Archons killed your parents. Fear Celestia and stay away from Canterlot.

“Get out.”

Octavia remained motionless. Her smile faded to a thin line and her eyes hardened.

Vinyl pointed to the door. “I said out.”

“Do you want to get your sisters back?”

“Don’t think I don’t know what you did.” Vinyl sat up to her full height, her gaze piercing. “I’m not about to make a deal with a devil.”

Octavia studied her, expression unreadable. Vinyl wanted to lash out, but knew better than to try. Even if she could take on an Archon, she wasn’t about to have the entire organization coming for her afterwards. Perhaps now it was just a waiting game to see who would give up first.

At last, Octavia spoke. “Amethyst is in the hooves of the rebels. Trixie is putting her life in danger as we speak to find her. We can end this, and quickly, but we cannot guarantee anything without help, help that you can offer. It’s up to you, Vanilla von Scratchington.”

“Me?” Vinyl huffed and turned her face away. “What the buck am I supposed to do? The Royal Guard thinks I may have been in on the whole thing.”

“Because of your brief association with their accomplice, Cheeky Grin.” Octavia nodded, her expression as rigid as ever. “I can end the investigation immediately. You’ll be free, and you’ll be able to protect your sisters. All you have to do is agree with our plan.”

Vinyl had no more room to back away on the couch. She considered climbing over it, but nixed the idea as quickly as it had come. “How do I know you really are an Archon? How do I know you’re not leading me to something even more horrible than I’ve already experienced? How can I trust anything you say?”

“All good questions, none of which have good answers.” Octavia flicked her immaculate mane in a haughty way that had Vinyl grinding her teeth. “So allow me to respond with a question of my own: would you prefer to sit here and do nothing while your siblings are out there, risking their lives?”

The query stung far more than it probably should have. Vinyl bowed her head and resisted the urge to feel at her aching chest. She couldn’t know what Octavia was really after, but…

Nopony would ever offer something like this again. Vinyl couldn’t see the future, but she had a good idea of what was coming: months or even years of house arrest waiting for some bureaucratic entity to pick up her investigation and decide whether she’d aided the rebels or not, all while Trixie and Amethyst remained lost to her. Even if the investigation ended quickly, how long did her siblings have? Every day, a torment of not knowing, of wishing they were back, of dreading the letter saying they’d been killed… or worse.

She gazed upon Octavia, who continued to watch her with those pretty, unblinking eyes. What if she was with the Archons? Could she possibly agree to work with the monsters that killed Amethyst’s parents? She didn’t want anything to do with them and was reasonably certain this would end in tears. But again, nopony would ever make her an offer like this again.

A door had been opened. Though she couldn’t see what was on the other side, Vinyl knew her decision had been made.

“I want your word that they’ll be safe.”

Octavia said nothing at first, but her eyes shifted ever so subtly. Vinyl took it to be hesitation, which raised her hackles, but at last Octavia replied, “I give you my word, as well as this: the Archons don’t exist. We will work with you until the mission is complete and your family is safely home in Equestria. After that, you won’t hear from us again.”

Vinyl gave a firm nod. “I don’t want to be associated with you jerks longer than I have to, anyway.”

“Good, then let’s get started.” Octavia stood and walked for the door, her movements graceful enough to make Vinyl feel clumsy.

Vinyl followed, but doubts were already assaulting her mind. “What about the guards?”

Octavia pushed the door open. “What guards?”

Sure enough, as she stepped outside Vinyl found the hallway empty of soldiers. “How did you…” She turned to find Octavia already walking away. Biting her lip, she moved after her. She couldn’t help thinking that she would regret this decision.

For Amethyst and Trixie, it would be worth it.

Even in the shade of night, the heat bore down on Vinyl like an angry spirit. Sweat beaded on her brow and flanks, and the coat beneath her heavy saddlebags felt uncomfortably wet. Even so, she didn’t dare move from her spot, her eyes casting up and down the road on the southern edge of Neighrobi. To her left, the road was cobblestone; to her right, it faded into dirt. She was at the edge of civilization, where masonry and architecture stood side-by-side with trees and nature.

What bothered her most was that she’d been standing there for a long time. The moon was nearing its zenith and she had yet to meet anypony – or, more specifically, anyzebra – on the road that night. She kept glancing at the sky and wondering if her ‘contact’ would even show up.

The plan went through her head for the millionth time. A ransom offer struck her as cliché, but she seriously doubted a bunch of rebels were known for their brains. After all, they did pick a fight with the world’s most powerful military force. How smart could they be? Still, something about this didn’t feel right, and she could only hope that Octavia knew what she was doing.

Which begged the question of where that pony was. Despite orders not to, Vinyl couldn’t resist casting her gaze around for any sign of the supposed Archon. Octavia had said that there would be eyes on her at all times.

So why did she feel like she was all alone?

Grumbling, she sat and adjusted her saddlebags into a more comfortable position. The familiar clinking of bits met her ears, and she couldn’t resist a grimace. At least it wasn’t actually her bits; she couldn’t imagine hoofing over so much at once. Well, yes, she could – anything to get her sisters back – but the thought of how hard things would be for the foreseeable future in that instance had her stomach twisting. Then again, Trixie was well versed in that kind of lifestyle, wasn’t she? Perhaps she’d be taking the lead for a while under such circumstances.

Thinking about Trixie didn’t help matters, casting an unpleasant aura to Vinyl’s thoughts. The ponies in the Royal Guard had confirmed that Trixie had gone with them on the search and rescue missions. They’d tried to stop her, of course, but soon learned that telling the rambunctious teen “no” was like standing in front of a buffalo stampede. Worse, in the last day the only news she been getting from them was that there was no news. It was a far cry from the tidbits she’d been getting.

They were hiding something, Vinyl knew it. Perhaps Trixie had been captured. That, at least, was what Vinyl considered the best possible reason. She refused to think about the potential alternatives.

With a long sigh, Vinyl forced herself to her hooves and cast her gaze about once more. She wiped the sweat from her brow and cursed the heat. Impatient, constantly fidgeting, ever worrying, Vinyl forced herself to wait. Seconds ticked by like minutes, minutes like hours. She tried to think about something to pass the time, anything but her sisters. It proved a pointless endeavor.

Her ears perked to the sound of hoofsteps on the stone road. Her gaze shifted and she tensed as a figure approached in the dark. Her eyes had long ago adjusted, and it took no time to recognize the individual as he came near. Her horn sparked at the pure, unfiltered fury that came to her. “So you survived.”

Cheeky Grin sported a smile, but it was frail and uncertain. “Hey there, Vinyl. How are you?”

“ ‘How are you?’ ” She gritted her teeth and focused on calming herself. “Your heroes foalnapped my sister, and all you can say is ‘How are you?’ ”

“Yeah…” He rubbed the back of his neck and averted his gaze. “The circumstances are unfortunate. We did what we had to, okay? I’m sorry.”

“Sorry.” She flung her head back with a scowl. “Buck your apologies! Can’t believe I thought you were cool. I’ve got your warlord’s stupid bits, now where’s Amethyst?”

“He’s not a warlord, and they aren’t his bits.” Cheeky’s smile faded, all anxiousness and charisma gone in a heartbeat. “You’re the one who contacted us with the offer, remember? We’d love to know how you found a way to do that.”

“I wasn’t going to stop until I found one,” she replied coolly. “You took my sister.”

Cheeky sighed. “That’s hardly a satisfying answer. We don’t have time to be playing these games. Boys?”

Vinyl let out a weak cry as rough hooves caught her from behind. She considered fighting, but stopped herself when she realized that the two zebras who had snuck up on her appeared to be only rifling through her saddlebags. The temptation to blast either of them was strong, but she battered down her anger with a reminder that she needed them to get Amethyst back. If they did anything more than check her saddlebags, though…

Her horn sparked as she shot a glare at Cheeky. “Can’t wait to count the coin?”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he replied with a dismissive wave of his hoof. “We just want to make sure there are no surprises in store for us. We’ve already determined that you’re not being watched.”

So Octavia had been lying about that; or perhaps her ponies were so good that the zebras failed to notice them? Vinyl didn’t know which idea disturbed her more.

At last the two zebras stepped away from her, both offering firm nods to Cheeky.

“Alright, you’re clean.” Cheeky coughed and averted his eyes once more. “I’m sorry, Vinyl, but we need to blindfold you.”

“What?” She stepped away from the closest zebra, who pulled out a grey rag. “Why?”

“So you can’t tell ponies where our base is, that’s why.” Cheeky rolled his eyes. “Seriously, isn’t it obvious?”

“And if I refuse?”

He leveled a grim expression her way. “Then we slip off into the shadows and you never see your sister again.”

She stomped and shook her head. “How can I trust you not to do something while I’m helpless?”

To her surprise, Cheeky burst out laughing. “S-seriously, Vinyl? What do you think we’re gonna do?”

“How the buck should I know?” She growled and pawed the ground in a threatening display. “You’re the criminals, not me.”

The laughter came to an abrupt stop. Vinyl noted the two zebras tensing. She kept her eyes on Cheeky, whose expression turned cold.

“We’re not criminals, Vinyl.”

“By the letter of the law, yes, you are.” Vinyl sniffed in derision. “Foalnapping, attacking unarmed soldiers – who still kicked your flanks – attempting to make said soldiers defect? What in Celestia’s burning sun made you think that would work?”

Cheeky sniffed right back. “When the letter of the law is determined by the criminals, the law itself becomes criminal.” He pointed to the rag still being held by one of the zebras. “Are you gonna do this, or should we leave you here?”

Vinyl considered her options, her gaze shifting from Cheeky to each of the zebras in turn. Her mind boiled with fury at the understanding that she had no choice. “Fine.” She jerked the rag from the zebra’s grasp via magic. “But I’m putting it on myself.”

The zebra moved to grab it, but he paused when Cheeky raised his hoof. Vinyl applied the rag to her head, not taking her eyes off Cheeky until it had effectively covered them, then tied it tight. As soon as her horn dimmed, she felt hooves studying the knot behind her head. A few seconds of silence passed.

“Alright then, let’s go.” Something nudged Vinyl’s shoulder, gradually spun her around, then guided her into a trot.

Time seemed to drag on forever. Vinyl’s mind ran in circles as she pondered what might happen next. She cursed Octavia regularly, for this hadn’t been part of the plan at all. If there wasn’t an Archon watching her every movement, she would kill that mare… assuming she survived this little exchange in the first place.

That was a sobering thought; how did she know the rebels wouldn’t just take the bits and kill her? How did she know the hostages weren’t already dead? And Amethyst…

“H-hey? What proof do I have that you’ll keep your end of the bargain?”

Cheeky sounded incredulous. “You’re just considering that possibility now? You’re really new to this kind of thing, aren’t you?”

She ground her teeth. “Forgive me if my life has been rather tame up until this point.”

“I didn’t think of you as being that naïve.”

Vinyl turned her head towards him, but doubted her glare was effective. She just had to hope it could burn through to him. He made no attempt to speak further despite her queries, leaving her to steep in her fears and doubts. For now.

They went on in silence for some time, and the path gradually went from flat to hilly. Walking while blind proved difficult, but her companions – escorts? Wardens? She couldn’t think of a proper military term – guided her along and kept her from falling. The two zebras finally spoke when it became clear that touch alone was an insufficient guiding method, and they were surprisingly polite.

This didn’t ease Vinyl’s suspicions at all.

At some point, Cheeky called for a halt. They had her remove the saddlebags, which made Vinyl suspect that they’d arrived, but the blindfold remained. She sat and listened to some grunting and huffing. “What are you doing?”

Cheeky’s voice arose from close by. “They’re burying the saddlebags.”

“What? Why?”

“We’ve still got a long way to go,” he replied solemnly. “It’ll be midday or so before we get to our destination, and all those bits have to be heavy.”

Mention of the weight reminded Vinyl of the slight ache in her backside, as well as the relief from the load. Labor like that was hardly in her repertoire of skills, and she took a moment to stretch out the kinks.

“So,” Cheeky continued, “we’re just gonna leave the bits here. It’ll make the entire journey go a lot smoother, and you won’t die of heatstroke.”

Vinyl bit back her thanks and tried to find something more abrasive to offer. “And when Tune Grief sees that I don’t have the ransom money?”

“You assume he even cares.”

Her head whipped towards the sound of his voice. “What? Those bits are the entire reason he agreed to see me. Why wouldn’t he care?”

Cheeky’s voice turned harsh. “Don’t act like you know everything about us. There’s a lot more to our cause than violence and bits.”

Vinyl rolled her eyes before realizing the pointlessness of the act. She tried to maintain a confident manner, but inside her mind was running away with itself. If the rebels didn’t want her for the bits, what did they want? A hundred horrible scenarios played out in her head, each worse than the last. More alarming was the possibility that any one of those things could be happening to Amethyst at that very moment.

Yet something else came to her, an idea that left her feeling alone and frightened: she was a pawn. Octavia had set her up for this, and she’d played along because there seemed no other choice. How much had Octavia known? Had she been aware that the rebels didn’t want her bits? What if Octavia wasn’t even an Archon, but part of the rebel organization? Or maybe she was an Archon, and this entire scheme was just a method of getting a bunch of bits stashed in some random location for them to take later and fund their evil activities?

Her imagination was going berserk, and Vinyl knew it. The temptation to conjure up more and more complex conspiracies tugged at her, leading her down new directions that were very unwelcome. Vinyl felt like a marionette, dancing to some tune she couldn’t fathom. Next to her fears for Amethyst, it had to be the worst feeling in the world.

The job was at last done and her captors – yes, that word seemed very appropriate now – pushed her along. They gave her a melon to eat as they continued.

It tasted like ash.

The first thing that told Vinyl they were approaching civilization was the shift in the ground from rough grass to a flat, sandy structure. Realizing she was on some kind of path, she perked her ears in search of new sounds. Voices were just reaching her, faint but growing steadily louder as she kept walking. She thanked the stars for this development; after countless hours walking beneath a burning sun with little water, she was about ready for some civilization.

Asking where they were seemed like a dumb move, so she kept her mouth shut and focused on the sounds all around her. She had anticipated some kind of reaction to her arrival, perhaps a hush to come over the area. Instead, the zebras – at least, she assumed they were zebras since they were all rhyming – didn’t seem to be paying her any mind at all. Maybe if she had the use of her eyes she’d find that assessment wrong.

She had long come to hate that blindfold. How many times had she banged her legs against random obstacles or nearly fell due to a sudden shift in ground height? She had a greater respect for the blind after this; she couldn’t imagine spending an entire life under such circumstances. Or rather, she could after the past several hours, but would rather not.

Vinyl turned her head in the general direction she hoped Cheeky was in. “Will it be okay to take this thing off soon?”

“Yeah, soon.” Cheeky patted her shoulder. “We’re practically there. Just gotta get to the boss.” The patting stopped when she hit him with as vicious a growl as she could muster. She imagined him jerking it back fearfully and barely resisted a satisfied, malicious smile.

A rhythmic sound reached her ears. It grew louder with each step, a steady clang, clang, clang. The noise reminded her of something, though she couldn’t put her hooftip on it. The volume increased, though it seemed muffled by something. A wall, perhaps?

There came the sound of a door’s squeaky hinges, and Vinyl felt herself the target of an unpleasant blast of sweltering heat. She hesitated at the sensation, for the sun on her back all day was bad enough, but hooves prodded her forward. Hoping she wasn’t about to be cooked for some unholy ritual – possibility number eighty-seven in her earlier mental ramblings – she allowed herself to be herded inside.

The heat was almost suffocating, and the clanging grew exponentially in volume. Not enough to hurt her ears, but more than enough to have her wincing with each retort. She heard the door close behind her… and then there was nothing. The heat remained, the clanging remained, but no instructions were offered. She waited, holding her breath and wondering if she hadn’t just been made a prisoner.

“Do not let your breath cease. Let your heart be at peace.”

Vinyl’s ears perked even as she followed the voice’s advice and released the air in her lungs. “Tune Grief.”

“That you recall my voice is a delight. Please, give yourself some sight.”

Vinyl ripped off the blindfold immediately, then winced against the red lighting of the area. Vision blurred, she shook her head and tried to focus. The rhythmic noise continued, and she could make out a figure standing on the other side of the room. There was the sound of blowing air, leading to the light intensifying for a moment. “Where am I?”

“At my place of employ,” Tune Grief answered politely. “It does bring me joy. Pleasure is something in great need after the failure of our recent deed.”

“Well, what did you expect to happen? You can’t just go up against…” Vinyl’s words died as her vision at last cleared. A wide variety of tools hung from the walls, such as hammers and tongs, and scattered throughout the large space was assorted equipment; a pile of horseshoes there, a few swords hanging in the corner, a massive battleaxe leaning against that wall. A trio of forges made one wall, but only one was lit, the fires within casting the area in a bright glow. To her left and side the walls were open to the outside, though they revealed only woods and no zebras were visible.

Vinyl turned her gaze back to Tune Grief, who was the source of the noise. His metal claw held a short piece of glowing metal, which he pounded regularly with a hammer fitted over his good hoof. Sparks flew with each hit, the metal gradually shifting into whatever form he was attempting to create.

“You’re a… blacksmith?”

Tune Grief’s eyes never left his work, but a small smile appeared on his lips. “Surprised?”

“Uh… yeah.” She sat and cast another look around, realizing she was alone with him. She didn’t know whether to be alarmed or comforted. “I kinda thought of you as some warlord.”

He chuckled, the sound barely audible over his hammering. “Warlords know only combat, and gain not what they work at. We are soldiers of peace seeking only a release.” He lifted his finished tool and quenched it in a bath, the water steaming noisily.

“Peace, huh?” Vinyl glowered and pointed to the bath. “And what’s that, then? An axe to cut Celestia’s head off?”

“Blacksmiths make more than just weapons, Miss Scratch.” He lifted the cooled metal from the water and displayed it to her. “There are more mundane needs we must match.”

Vinyl peered at the object, which he held close for her. It was a thin piece, broad and curved to form a scoop. The bottom side appeared flat and less curved, ending in a small round section with a hole in it. It certainly wasn’t an axe, but she knew she’d seen something like it before.

“Permit me to offer a clue.” Tune Grief stepped back and, freeing his hoof from the hammer, reached over to grab one of the short poles leaning against a nearby wall. He displayed both the metal and the pole to her at once. “Perhaps this will clear your view?”

She cocked her head, considering the two pieces. “A shovel. You’re making a shovel.” She blinked and shook her head. “That’s… anticlimactic.”

“If I disappoint, then accept my apology.” He returned the pole and set the shovel head upon a pile of them. He paused, eyes turning thoughtful. After a moment he turned back to her with a grin. “I trapped myself with my terminology.”

It took Vinyl a moment to understand his meaning. “Hey, you’re doing far better than I—” She shook her head forcefully. “Stop changing the subject! I came here for a reason.”

“That you did.” He sat, his smile not fading. “Further delay we should forbid. Yet I pray you will not balk should I take this chance to talk?

“I’m not here to hear you preach,” she growled. “You got your chance with the speech. Perhaps if you didn’t practice the futile you wouldn’t have to resort to the brutal.”

Tune Grief’s eyes widened. “That was good.”

“Then how ‘bout this?” Vinyl shook her hoof at him, blood boiling. “You killed my producer and friend! You foalnapped my baby sister. My other sister is out risking her life to find her. I don’t want any part of your bucking rebellion, I just want Amethyst back. So stop with the smooth talk already and give her to me so I can go home!”

They stared at one another, Tune Grief a calm giant and Vinyl a huffing ball of anger. She took a moment to wipe the sweat from her brow, mentally cursing how comfortable he appeared in the oppressive heat of the smithy. His manner had shifted to a focused, unpleasant frown, but Vinyl refused to be intimidated.

“I see you are prone to fits.” He sighed and shook his head. “We do not want your bits.”

“Don’t give me that crap,” she snarled. “My bits are the only reason you agreed to see me.”

“So quick are you to call us wrong,” he countered coolly, “yet you came to us with your song.”

“That was a crappy rhyme!” Vinyl stomped a few times. “Stop wasting my time!”

Tune Grief raised his hooves in a placating motion, though his expression remained cool. “Calm yourself, you shall have your foal. Abduction for ransom was never our goal.”

“Oh, really? Then why didn’t you just let her go once you were away?”

“At the time her freedom could not be set.” He waved to the woods outside the smithy. “A filly alone in these woods of threat? If you would but pause for reflection, you would see it was for her own protection. Her death we sought to forgo, and with you here she’s free to go.”

Vinyl peered at him, trying to find the lie. His expression remained unreadable. “What’s the catch?”

The zebra’s shoulders sagged slightly. “This is why you ponies need our help; one offers kindness and you yelp. There is no catch or test of wits. We’ll even let you keep your bits.”

Seconds ticked by as Vinyl considered this offer. It sounded so nice, almost generous. Too nice for her to believe. Her eyes drifted about the smithy for some clue as to what was really going on. “I don’t believe you. After that crap you pulled, you expect me to just take your word? Ponies are dead – Polished Prose, my friend, is dead!” She took a cautious step back from the giant of a zebra. “I’m not agreeing to anything until I know exactly what it is you’re setting me up for.”

“Goddess, but you are stubborn!” Tune Grief rubbed his eyes with both hooves. “I… We…” He fumbled with his lips and ground his teeth. After a few seconds he abandoned his attempted rhyme entirely. “Do you think we wanted a fight? We only sought to send a message!”

Although Vinyl felt a tinge of guilty pleasure at finally breaking his pattern, she also felt a moment of trepidation. After all, she’d just angered a stallion nearly twice her size and rippling with muscles, not to mention the small army of subordinates he undoubtedly had within shouting range. She took a cautious step back from him, gauging whether a run into the woods would be practical.

“The Guard gave us a bloody muzzle,” he admitted with a sigh, “It was worth the struggle. Now they know we can be anywhere, and their eyes will be everywhere. When one gazes at all their land entails, they miss the little details.”

Vinyl raised an eyebrow, still shuffling for the forest as subtly as she could. “So you are planning something.”

“Perhaps we are, perhaps not,” he replied, his tone gradually calming. He sidestepped, his long legs dwarfing her quiet movements. It was enough to make clear that he hadn’t missed her intention. “Either way, you are not part of our plot. Just take your foal and leave this…”

They both paused, ears perking to the sound of muffled shouts. Vinyl turned her gaze to the door, listening intently as the noise grew louder. “What’s going on out there?”

“Hmm…” Tune Grief’s eyes turned ominous. “Could it be that Cheeky failed? I fear you may have been tailed.”

The Archons. Vinyl didn’t know whether to feel overjoyed or horrified. “What about Amethyst?”

The door burst open, and Cheeky hurried inside. He slammed the door and pressed his back to it with wide eyes. He stood there for some time, breath coming in slow heaves. The shouting began to turn to screams.

Vinyl stepped forward. “What’s going on?”

Tune Grief was reaching for the axe on the wall. “Is it an attack? How many to hack?”

Cheeky’s eyes shifted to Tune Grief as if just realizing he was there. It took him a few tries to speak. “One.”

The zebra and unicorn shared an incredulous glance. “One?” Vinyl asked.

Tune Grief opened his mouth to snap, but paused when something unusual floated into the room over the screaming.

Cause I love to see you beam, beam, beam

Yes I do

An especially loud shriek pierced the air, followed by a bang that made the tools on the walls rattle. Cheeky dug his hooves into the ground, firming his pressure on the door.

Tell me what more can I say to make you see

That I do?

“Help me!”

Vinyl had no idea what that wet sound was just on the other wide of the wall, and she didn’t think she wanted to. She began backstepping for the forest, her wide eyes shifting to Tune Grief. The stallion had the axe in hoof now, his metal claw cutting grooves into the wooden handle and his lips pulled back in a snarl.

The door handle rattled, prompting Cheeky to whimper like a foal.

“___ ____ ____ ___ _____ ___ _____”

Vinyl’s head whipped around to Tune Grief, who was clutching at his throat with one hoof, his expression one of alarm and confusion.

It makes me happy when you beam, beam, beam…

A choking sound turned their attention back to Cheeky. His back remained pressed to the door, but his eyes now bulged and blood dribbled from his lips. Something pierced his barrel, and beneath her horror Vinyl registered total confusion: the ‘weapon’ was a word, complete with...

“fool!”

Yes it always makes my day!

The door exploded into the room in a spray of splinters, letters and pieces of pony. Vinyl raised her hooves in alarm just in time to deflect Cheeky’s detached lower foreleg, blood splattering across her face as she did. There was no time to react, to think, to even process what had happened. Something white and yellow darted into the room, smashing into Vinyl’s side and sending her flying against the wall.

Pain spread across her side as she fell to the ground. Playful laughter filled her ears, and when she finally looked up she could only gape: it was a pegasus. A white pegasus with a blonde mane and tail, who hovered in the center of the smithy with a grin far too wide to be normal. She laughed manically, blood covering her legs and face. Tune Grief stood beneath her, waving his axe in preparation.

“What foul demon are you?” he shouted.

“The kind that likes to have fun! Hey, Vanilla.” The pony waved to Vinyl as if she were an old friend, leaving her dumbstruck.

“D-do I know you?”

Tune Grief jerked about, ready to swing. “You led this thing to us?!”

Vinyl shouted and pressed against the door, but before the zebra could slice her head from her shoulders the pegasus dropped down and caught the axe head, her hooves locking over the flat of the blade. She flapped her wings and released, making the zebra’s swing fly high. It came so close to its mark that Vinyl felt the wind on her ears.

As the zebra and pegasus turned on one another, Vinyl decided that she’d waited long enough. Amethyst was somewhere nearby, she had to be! She turned and ran for the open doorway, ignoring the shouts and commotion of the fight, only to step on something that rolled beneath her hoof. The motion tangled her hooves and sent her to the ground. She turned to see what tripped her up and almost immediately threw up.

It was Cheeky’s head.

Vinyl jumped back, only to shout as something extremely hot pressed against her back. She pulled forward and turned to find herself looking at the lit forge, its coals glowing and ominous. The heat radiated against her and prompted her to pull back—

“Look out!”

She turned just in time to see Tune Grief’s axe flying towards her in a rapid spin.

The world moved slowly. She could see the zebra falling backwards, his eyes wide with surprise as he followed his axe’s trajectory. The pegasus shared the same expression and was rushing through the air in an attempt to catch the loose weapon. Vinyl knew she’d not get to it in time, and that she couldn’t possibly dodge. The blade seemed to shimmer in the glow of the forge, sharp and hungry for her flesh. Vinyl did the only thing she could think of; she turned aside, raised her leg in an attempt to block, and prayed the blunt end would be what got her.

Pain erupted in her head. The force of the blow was so strong it toppled her sideways. She only had enough time to register the direction of her fall before her face landed in the red-hot coals.

Chaos. That was the best way to describe what Vinyl was feeling at that moment, because it was all a jumble of everything and nothing. There was no pain, but there was agony. There was no sound, but somepony was shrieking. There was no motion, but her body flailed.

How long was it before she realized that the screams were her own? It might have been seconds. It might have been days. Vinyl had been hurt before, but never had she felt such all-encompassing torture as what coursed through her head at that moment. She could think of nothing but the burning in her eyes and the desperate need to make it stop.

Something slapped against her face, cold and brutal and all the more painful. She realized she was on the ground, curled in a ball and clutching at her face. Somewhere over her own shrieks came a panicked voice.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! You have a beautiful voice and I really like it but Octavia told me not to play with you and she’s going to be so mad and if she’s mad then Uncle Fine will be mad and I’m so so sorry! Please tell them it was an accident because I swear it wasn’t on purpose this time and I wasn’t trying to hear you sing even though you have a great voice for it and ohnotheGuard’scomingandthey’regonnafindyoulikethisohnoohnoohno!”

Vinyl reached for the voice. “H-help me! It hurts!”

“I can’t! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! Oh, what am I gonna do? I’m supposed to be gone before they get here and and and oh I’m so sorry!” The pegasus’ voice began to fade with distance. “I’ll make it up to you later, cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!”

“Wait!” Vinyl tried to stand, but only stumbled to the ground once more. Her world was completely black, and any attempt to clear her vision with her hooves resulted in crippling pain. She lay in a ball and sobbed, struggling to think past the searing fire over her face.

“S-s-somepony?” She raised her head. “Anyp-pony?” Only silence met her.

She lay there for some time, taking shallow gasps and trembling like a leaf. She felt so horribly alone. This was far worse than the rag she’d been wearing; this blindness felt more complete, more oppressive. She kept trying to open and close her eyes, but the darkness didn’t change. She eventually gave up, for even blinking seared a path of flame through her skull.

Her voice came out in a cracked whisper. “Am-methyst… I came here for Amethyst.”

Though any movement sent pulsing fire to her brain, Vinyl began to crawl across the floor. “Ammy… I’m coming. I’ll f-find you. I’m not giv-ving up…”

Every shift was a new torment. Vinyl knew she should lay still, but thoughts of her beloved Little Sparkler filled her head. She could almost hear the filly laughing to one of her pranks. It was such a beautiful sound.

“Ammy, please.” Her hoof touched something solid. “Talk t-to me…”

A wall. She found a wall. She crawled alongside it, sobbing from the pain. She began to feel lightheaded, but she pressed on.

“Somepony… S-save Ammy.”

She was so tired…

“Amethyst…”

Her head wobbled, then hit the floor. She wept as the impact sent a jolt through her brain. No matter how much she willed them, her legs wouldn’t drag her any farther.

“Little… Little Sparkler…”

The last thing she saw was the beaming gaze of a filly.

“I’m sorry.”

Author's Notes:

Those of you who have read Trixie vs. Equestria will recognize what happened to Tune Grief's words. Those of you who haven't will have to wait for Surprise's book to find out!

Two more chapters and we're done with Vinyl's book. I think.