Gusty stood idly on the deck of the Midnight Onyx waiting for her to depart Castle Manor. She scratched at the collar of her mail uncomfortably with the day as she stared down at the rest of the deck. The blood and the gore had long been scrubbed away and the heavy wood of the airship shined even in the dusty grey of the morning. Ponies of different shapes and sizes rummaged about talking to each other informally. Like her they eagerly awaited their departure, uncontent to sit still. Turning from the bustle of the so named Equestrian Special Guard Service, she walked up one of the sets of stairs to the helm. Bunker and Zeccaran sat there arguing over something trivial by the ship’s wheel. She ignored them as they bickered, still stuck on yesterday’s events.

It had been a sleepless night. Between trying to get Gertrude ready to lead her people again and listening to the old ewe weave the tale of she and her daughter’s falling out, Gusty was emotionally exhausted. The Golden Dame’s doting stories had also solidified Gusty’s determination to do anything besides killing Gabriella. She did not have to tell her past-daughter what her intentions were. In fact, whisking the rebellious princess away to jail in Equestria felt like the best decision. Should Gertrude come to visit in thirty years or so, she was sure the elder ewe would be overjoyed. That was her plan at least, Gusty could not fathom killing Gabriella, the thought made her head hurt even now.

“Bah! You pull mechanism like you are jerking tree limb!” Bunker’s proclamation was interesting enough to make her focus on it instead of the looming headache. Gusty took a few steps closer to the arguing stallions to hear better.

“Well then what do you suggest? Just leaving it out of gear?” Zeccaran shot back sarcastically.

“You watch, zebra boy. While you work on engine for four days I learn how to use engine.” Bunker moved his compatriot out of the way with a hoof and stood up on his back legs to brace himself on the wheel.

Reaching for a seemingly insignificant lever he gently pulled the mechanism down. As he did Gusty could hear a loud hiss slowly start to build in strength. Suddenly a low rumble of something mechanical below the deck groaned. A dial was reached for next that listed piston power in various colors, Bunker twisted the indicator to the red “Max” before pulling the dial out away from its face. There was a clunk afterward along with a belch of air and smoke from behind the stern of the vessel. With a sly chuckle that mirrored the suddenly vibrating deck, Bunker reached for a final lever and slammed it down to match its twin.

A tremendous roar of the magically-fired steam engines echoed across the trees and the town of Castle-upon-Barra. Bunker stood clutching the wheel with his hooves laughing like a madstallion. With the mighty sky vessel readied, he turned to Zeccaran with a smile that was more a sneer.

“See!?” he shouted, “It is like pleasing mare, takes finesse, no?”

“Bullshit! How in the world do you even know what any of those do?! I barely know what they do and I’ve literally studied the engines for almost three years now!” Zeccaran growled with a stomp of his hoof.

“I find manual in captain’s quarters while you dig around in engine room. I read and try levers out while in neutral gear, see?” Bunker pointed to how he had pulled the throttle dial out away from its frame.

“THERE WAS A MANUAL!? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME!?” the zebra shrieked with such intensity that Gusty actually reached to cover her ears.

“Da.” Her husband calmly grabbed his backpack that set near the wheel, before producing a thick dusty looking book. He gave it to Zeccaran a small grin growing on his face. The zebra snatched it and opened it to a seemingly random page and stuffed his snout into its words. After a few moments he looked up, his eyes narrowed and his scowl becoming reserved, but no less menacing.

“Would have been nice to know.” He slammed the manual shut. “Could have definitely sped up the repair process.”

“Eh. I just tried out its examples over last two weeks in spare time. You read book, you’ll learn. Is made for babies.” Bunker nodded. Gusty at this point was smiling broadly. Her husband had always been a capable sort but this had taken the proverbial cake. She just opened her mouth to tease Zeccaran when an increasingly familiar set of hooves followed by a throat clearing stopped her. She turned to look at Stiff Inspection.

“Are we ready to depart? It is best we return to Canterlot before inciting more violence here,” he petitioned the group.

“Yeah. We are ready to go, just got the engine primed, I guess,” Zeccaran answered. The soldier nodded and began to turn away, Gusty ground her own voice box to get him to stop. He paused and looked at her curiously, the bags under his eyes betraying his stress.

“We are not leaving the country you know. Gertrude has a final task before we leave,” she told him. Stiff Inspection turned fully around to look at her.

“Excuse me, I believe I just heard someone making my mission harder, say again?” he asked his voice betraying his irritability..

“We were asked to go to the pirates’ hideout and kill or capture the group.” She was not much for lying, but at least this was a ‘mostly-truth’ situation.

“Ah. Delightful. Well.” He bit his lip looking down to the deck and then back up to her. “I suppose then it is time to inform you this unit will remain here with you regardless as our objective, once the Griffon Empire’s involvement was confirmed, is to return you to Equestria.”

Gusty shot him a quizzical look.

“I did not mention it before, nor did Captain Garrison. This unit’s only purpose is to protect you and your companions. Once the situation escalated, we were to remove you from it. Thus, I must ask why you are so insistent on following the Dame’s orders?”

“That is because the Princesses specifically asked us to.” Zeccaran chimed in for her.

“Indeed. I guess that puts me in a difficult position, as I can’t exactly deny the Princesses will. I intended to just insist that we leave, but…” Stiff Inspection rubbed his temples with his wings.

“This is a special mission that only myself, Zeccaran, and Bunker will be participating in,” she stated, “You don’t have to accompany us.”

“Yeah. That’s not gonna fly. Letting you run around in a cave is not exactly ensuring your safe return at all costs. As per my orders.” He paused for a moment before heaving a sigh. “Welp. Can’t be helped. So much for not inciting more violence.”

“Who ordered you to protect me at all costs?” Gusty retorted feeling violated by the issued command.

The lieutenant answered with a simple hard look into her eyes. Turning about sharply he floated down from the helm on his wings. His silence had been enough of an answer, and the answer nearly made her blood boil. Stormwalker.

Damn him, she thought to herself. I can’t believe even not being here he manages to cramp my style.

Gusty continued to pout to herself wondering how she was going to flush out pirates while being followed by a platoon of guards. Looking down she mulled over how she would take revenge, trying to find inspiration in the shiny planks below . The deck of the airship suddenly sparked a memory in Gusty. Especially since she had not seen him since she had woken up about a week ago. Anything to take her thoughts of that stallion.

“Hey!” she exclaimed looking towards Zeccaran. “Where is Gunther?”

“Not to worry, he’s on the ship in my cabin. I’m not about to forget my dog.” her friend raised a hoof in defense.

“Where’s he been anyway?” she prodded further.

“I let him roam. He had spent most of a month in a cage just getting shipped here,” he answered sagely.

“Wasn’t that dangerous? To let a wolf roam around sheep?” Gusty almost could not believe Zeccaran’s irresponsibility.

“He was fiiiiiine. Nobody here is even scared of him,” was the answer she received. Gusty rolled her eyes, she was simply relieved the timberwolf had not eaten some innocent lamb or worse. The rumbling of the airship’s engines prevailed for a moment as she looked between Bunker and Zeccaran.

“My dear husband…” she let her voice trail off as Bunker looked at her. “Take us to that pirate hideout.” He nodded enthusiastically before beginning to fiddle with the controls again. The engine’s roar quieted some as the stallion made his adjustments. However, as soon as he slapped the gear control the massive rotors behind the vessel screamed with a violent fervor. The wind the buffeted, hissed, and snarled as the propellers tore the air apart. The great floating ship began to slowly lurch forward. Bunker hastily adjusted the wheel as the deck tilted from misaligned steering rigs. He waved them away after completing his task.

“Zeccaran!” Gusty tried to bellow over the rumbling air. “We should go inside!” He nodded and they began to make their way to the main deck. Most of the soldiers were quickly moving below deck through the central hatch. They moved slowly as the wad of bodies pressed down the stairs into the bowels of the vessel.Through the group of milling ponies Stiff Inspection stalked up to them his face somewhat more relaxed than before.

“Does he know where he is going?!” he shouted some. On the main deck the sound of the rotors was lessened by the helm’s elevated platform.

“I can assure you he doesn’t! He just happens to know how to fly this thing!” Zeccaran screamed. The zebra was stuck too loud from before.

“Alright, I’ll guide him then. Once he get this thing up to full speed, it shouldn’t take more than two hours to get there.” Estimate given, Stiff carefully walked past them and up the stairs. Tired of waiting Gusty lifted Zeccaran in her magic and ushered them both inside the initial cabin space. Almost all of the extra sound died away and she heaved a sigh of relief. Her friend scowled at her from her levitation making her grin and set him down.

“Come on.” Zeccaran motioned for her to follow him. It was the first time she had actually been inside the ship after all. The hall that they were in had several doors each presumably the fine sort of cabins with the big windows on the stern of the vessel. However, her companion led them past the doors and to the end of the narrow hall.

Bending down Zeccaran grabbed a latch that was laid flat in the wood floor and pulled it up. The wide trap door swung upwards without much issue and revealed sharp angled stairs that led down below the top deck. The polished steps were just large enough for her to fit comfortably and she followed the nimble little zebra down into the bowels of the vessel. Pausing briefly in the new hall Zeccaran took in a deep breath. He resumed trotting in the dimly lit hallway and stopped before a plain door. Gusty turned to her left to notice the path they were on opened up into a large bunk room opposite Zeccaran’s room. The space ended in a set of large doors.

“Hey, you coming in here or what?” her friend pulled her away from gazing idly around the room. She looked back at Zeccaran and followed him into what appeared to be a rather dirty workshop. Strangely, it seemed that her companion had managed to find several contraptions that he kept in his lab in Canterlot. Gusty stared in a vague sense of deja vu as she looked around the miniature lab. A short yip surprised her and before she could react Guthner was licking her face. She pushed the wooden canine down, giving him a stern look before stroking his back.

“Looks like this is your own little slice of paradise,” she said more to the air than to Zeccaran. Rustling paper drew her eyes from a diagram on the wall to where the zebra wrestled with a partially rolled map. Grabbing the edge of one of the tables with his mouth with a jerking motion he laid the map flat and placed random objects on it as paper weights.

“There,” he grumbled before signalling her over. Gusty took a few steps and leaned over his shoulder. She beheld a strange depiction of some place she did not recognize. She looked at Zeccaran in confusion.

“This is a map of the mine where Gabriella and the so-called Pirate King are hiding,” he responded to her silent question.

“Oh!” she exclaimed as he continued.

“Yes. I had only one other chance to look it over, so this is the perfect time to find a way to trap them.” Zeccaran nodded more to himself that to her.

Gusty started to pour over the map only to find herself growing increasingly frustrated. She understood the shape of the various passage and chambers but the way the map was laid made her eyes want to cross. She managed to persist long enough to establish that there were two tunnels that branched off of the main shaft. These tunnels formed a loop like formation that had a number of interconnecting passages. Other than those being great places to confuse one’s pursuers she felt deprived of proper reference.

“How big is this place?” she asked. Her exasperation clear even to herself.

“It’s huge. Easily bigger than Castle-upon-Barra,” Zeccaran commented. He reached a hoof over the table at the same time as the whole ship gave a low creak as it turned. After waiting for the sound to stop he tapped his leg on a formation Gusty had looked at but ignored.

“These are what I think they will be hiding in. Each one as an emergency tunnel to the next one over. They could make their ‘last stand’ and then slip away,” he stated. “The rest of the area is either too open or too dangerous to try that in.”

“Why so?” Gusty gave him a confused look. Perhaps she had missed something about the map’s depiction.

“Because this area experiences regular cave-ins. Look at the way the path randomly changes direction.” He traced the area he was speaking about.

“But they don’t know we know that...in fact I bet they don’t think we’re coming for them,” she declared.

“Awfully confident of you...no. I think they know,” Zeccaran disagreed, “But maybe you are right, about the map, they likely assume we could not access the cargo bay where I found it.” He rubbed his chin for a moment looking down at the map in concentration. Gusty had no idea what he could have been concocting, Zeccaran was crafty in that way.

“They know we have the airship, but even with Gabriella teleporting there, it’s been...not quite a day. They will be probably preparing to engage Ovis. The main army of the Baylands, not this ship or the soldiers on it. Even though you pretty much told Stiff to piss off. Real smart call by the way. Just throw away the additional help we need to round up these brigands. Ohhh, it’s a special mission for just me and my friends!” Zeccaran had gone from analytical to mocking her recent decision.

“I don’t want them involved. There’s no reason we can’t handle this. We managed to capture the Midnight Onyx with virtually no help.” Gusty shot back.

“I guess you forget the part where you were put into a coma for nearly four days.” He looked at her with great disdain. “Or maybe you don’t remember due to the head trauma?” Gusty blew him a raspberry in response, it was all she had left. Stalking away the skant short distance she could from the table she heaved a sigh of acceptance. Zeccaran was, unfortunately, right.

“Well where should we deploy this special guard then?” she turned to ask. “I still don’t want them running around in the tunnels. Following me...”

“Fair enough. Although I’m sure they won’t listen to us. But we might get the majority of them to to lay in wait outside the cave.” He looked as if he was deep in thought momentarily be for his face relaxed to an almost annoyed expression.

“So just drive up park the Onyx and have them wait for the hapless pirate to come running, huh?”he inquired lazily. Gusty nodded her approval. She had rarely fathomed planning things like this and was more than happy to defer the strategy to him. Afterall, she was always more of an active player in a battle, her recent actions here in the Baylands quite potently proved such.

“You want the pirates captured, correct? Since you are actually the diplomat-soldier on this operation I just wanted to be sure,” he asked. Her friend was giving her an extremely serious look as if he had come to some deep realization upon stating that she was in charge.

Gusty cleared her throat, and gave him a concerned bit of squinting, deciding she need to be more specific. “I want all of them captured. I will not see to the murder of my daughter’s kin. No matter what Gertrude said.” For a brief moment Zeccaran’s face darkened before he nodded at her words.

“Gusty.” He gave a pause that felt too long. “Understand as emissaries we are obligated to fulfil Gertrude’s wishes. And...after everything she told you yesterday...I think we have to.”

She practically snarled at Zeccaran. Closing the distance she puffed out her chest and stared him down. Gusty could not endure the thought, and she would not allow her friend to think it either. However, to her surprise he did not flinch instead his gaze was harder than the steel of her sword. The last time she had seen Zeccaran make such a strong glare was back in the Cave of Nyx, when he denied Stormwalker his revenge. Whatever the zebra had decided in his mind, she was not going to stop him, not if the threat of a demonic beating had not deterred him. She relented her stare and looked away from him, ungainly grunting as if she had missed something important and no longer could participate in the conversation.

“Just don’t do anything stupid.” she told him and let silence reign over the moment. An excruciating pain welled up suddenly like a bursting dam, in her temples. Moaning instinctually she sat back onto her rump grabbing her skull with her forehooves. The pain’s intensity made her stomach do a flip and nausea made her suck in short sharp breaths. Zeccaran was next to her in an instant.

“Whoa! What the heck is going on!?” He caught her from falling over as the world spun from vertigo. His voice sounded distorted as if he was yelling through a metal tube or a tin can on a string that a child might use. He held her as the onslaught of suffering dissipated to a particularly uncomfortable throbbing in the center of her forehead below her horn.

“Not sure,” she managed soon after, “seems like a sudden headache attack I guess.” Gusty cautiously stood using Zeccaran briefly as a brace. She closed her eyes as the oil lamps flickering lights made her eyes flash colored images of something she knew was not reality.

“Are you okay then?” her friend asked.

“No. But I will be if I take a nap, I’m sure it will be fine,” she replied already groggy from the mere thought of finding relief from the migraine. Nearly stumbling as she pushed forward out of the little workshop, Gusty realize that her words were not even convincing herself. It took everything just to shuffle towards the bunk room and ignore the similarities this sensation had to past events. Zeccaran followed her closely making sure she made it to a bed.

“Do you want me to wake you up about ten minutes before we are there? That way you can get your armor on?” He asked softly into her ear as she collapsed on the rough spun pillow.

“Yes. I guess that means you had the Guard gather up my stuff then?” Gusty could hardly believe the hoarseness of her own voice. The reprieve of relaxing her legs was already taking its toll and she struggled to retain consciousness. It did not help that the pounding in her skull made it feel like her thoughts were going faster than her waking self could comprehend.

“I did. What would you do without me right?” Zeccaran teased in far off echoes. She managed a smile before she could no longer hear her friend. The world receded into a blanketed darkness that managed to relieve her stress and pain. It was a welcome sensation and Gusty relished the moment of empty bliss for the short instant it lasted.

Awaking with a bit of a start Gusty found herself in her home. It was not her current home, no, it was someplace else she had lived. It seemed a whole age had past since she had had such a lucid experience. However, with how severe her flashbacks and other mental projections had been of late it made everything seem like it was a long time ago. At least this time she knew it was fake and not a reality that would be shattered when she woke up.

Looking around the room she found it bordered by curtains and alabaster pillars. It was the same place she had seen her first day in the Baylands. Somewhere in her mind a stray thought reminded her to go wake her daughter. A part of her knew that it was just a figment of the dream another part made her wonder why it was always a female child. Gertrude, Amethyst, how many other “daughters” had she had? The thought came and went as she followed the familiar path through the curtained structure to her daughter’s room.

She drew the dark blinds away from her daughters part of the home. Creeping into the chamber a deep sense of nostalgia and love foamed up into her heart and cheeks. Having done this before Gusty could not help but play out the memory as she approached the lump of covers on the strung hammock bed. She just needed to time it right to jump on the swinging bed to cause enough spring and bounce her sleeping daughter into the air much like she would Amethyst.

Gusty found her ideal position and waited to make her leap. The bed swung towards her and she dove towards it like a leaping cat. She came to a soft stop hovering above the bed as the canvas continued to swing, the soft hum of levitation in her ears. The lump of covers rustled some and out popped the head of an alicorn. She was a pretty little thing, with a rich brown coat and a shiny black mane even in the dull light of the coordinated room.

“Aren’t I a little old for you to be trying to scare me out of bed, mom?” she asked her voice even finer than Gusty remembered. Her tone however was dry enough to make the Saddle Arabian Desert seem wet. Gusty liked to think she got that from her father. The younger alicorn put her down on the still moving hammock and gave her a look of curiosity. She could not help but smile at the moment and the memory. In a way the sensation of displaced euphoria brought her thoughts to how she come to this point. Why did she have these memories, these dreams? She wondered what had happened and how long it had been since the petite mare in the hammock had been dead. How she knew that, Gusty did not want to know, but the fact remained.

“Are you going to say anything or are you just gonna sit there and stare?” her daughter questioned as she continued to gaze at her in a stupor. Gusty rolled over making the bed rock in an unstable way, trying to push away the thoughts of her existence.

“Just wondering why you are sleeping in later than me is all,” she teased. Gusty used her magic to pull the blanket tight over her daughter’s face. The younger alicorn struggled as the aggressive cloth and Gusty’s giggles began their assault.

“Dammit, mom!” she cried flopping out of the suspended bed a particularly angry look on her face.

“Watch your language, young lady,” Gusty scolded.

“I’ve been old enough to cuss for a good thirty years and that’s what you say to me? Some things never change do they?” the tousled youth grumbled. Gusty found herself subconsciously kicking herself for forgetting that demi-goddom came with a lack of age; it had been too long since she had real time spent time with other alicorns. The last three years with Celestia should have been a reminder about time’s lack of affect on such folks. However, when you are surrounded by normal everyday ponies as your main companions you quickly forget that. It was getting hard to deflect the personal cliff diving experience the more she thought about the disparity so Gusty resorted to more actively participating in the dream.

“Well...how have things been?” she asked more as a conversation starter than a serious question.

“I just told you yesterday.”

“I want to hear it again.”

“You really are getting old aren’t you?”

Gusty rolled her eyes. That joke was ancient even when her past-child had said it then. A sudden change in the lighting of the bannered room turned her attention toward one of the outer canvas walls. It seemed as if clouds had suddenly billowed up to block out the sun. The darkness felt almost unnatural, Gusty squinted her eyes at the still curtains her daughter also silent and suspicious of the change.

“Mom. What’s going on?” she murmured just barely loud enough to be heard at the short distance. Gusty immediately shushed her with a hoof. A sharp screech of metal and beast pierced the eerie calm like a knife into butter.

Before she could react the canvas curtains that covered the openings between the pillars burst into flame. Through the orange and yellow blaze tumbled a dark creature, its body as much fire as it was flesh. That feeling of primal fear tightened her chest and stilled her hooves as it turned to look directly at her. However, Gusty had control of her mind this time and she knew that the being was just another demon, and this was her dream. The lucid experience merely intensified as she wished for her blade, pleased to see it waiting for her as soon as she looked to the floor.

A blast of magic erupted from her daughter’s horn with such a blinding radiance Gusty had to close her eyes. As quickly as she could force them back open she beheld the smoking form of the demon, unfazed by the massive attack. He smiled at them, how she knew he was male Gusty found to be upsetting, but not nearly as upsetting as her daughter’s panicked cries.

“I-i-it didn’t work! Mom! The spell! It didn’t work!” The younger alicorn pressed herself closer to her.

“Don’t worry sweety. I’ll take care of him.” Pulling her sword up with her levitation she kept the blade between herself and the monster. He spat out a bit of cold, curdled laughter. The sound was all too similar to the demon Stormwalker from her waking world. However, this creature was not him, but perhaps a past iteration of the cursed blood. This became quite clear as he started stalking towards her in an attempt to flank her position by the hammock.

The beast of old wore dark matte steel plate. It lacked some of the more modern frilling and aesthetic ribbons around the collar and abdomen but the shape and quality of the build was unmistakable. The creature before he was a Stormwalker for certain, and that meant she needed to strike first, and fast, before the beast realized her full capabilities. He hissed beneath the jagged helm moving closer to her daughter than she liked.

Before he could do more, Gusty made her move. This was her fight to lose and whether it was a memory or dream, she was in control, at least for now. Rushing towards the beast instead of just trying to levitate her blade to him, Gusty grinned as he dodged her body but not the blade. He was no Stormwalker she knew. Even in her dreams that beast of a stallion would have managed to dodge somehow. She caught her charge turning again to face the creature. This was about the time she realized something horrifying.

The demon had dodged in such a way that he landed between Gusty and her daughter. The wound she had caused at the base of his wing slowly patched itself together making him grin in a mad fashion at her. And as she looked at the precarious situation, flame burst through the curtains that led into the rest of the pillar tent home. Her jaw dropped as four more of the beasts swooped into the room immediately surrounding her child. The younger alicorn shrieked in surprise as they descended upon her.

Fury propelled Gusty forward and the dream became more of a blur. It seemed that though she was consciously aware of what was happening she could no longer influence the events. It was if a part of her wanted to see her daughter mauled, or worse captured by these filth. Gusty fought against the suddenly faster monsters, no longer sure if what she was doing made sense even in the context of her subconscious. All she could hear was her daughter screaming in pain and fear.

“Mom, hurry! Please! Mom!”

The words made Gusty’s heart hurt. She slapped down another of the ghastly horde only to have it replaced immediately. The frenzy of terror and battle pumped her blood with a force that ached her entire body and Gusty desperately wanted to wake up. She knew it was a dream, she had been in control, but now everything was just a train with no brakes headed for a crowded station. The sensation made her twitch uncontrollably, her nerves wracking her entire body until her eyes snapped open.

Covered in sweat and panting, Gusty blinked trying to get the persistent images of that moment out of her eyes. She hazarded a look around the bunk room to find that the world had not ended though to her it felt like it had.

“Oh, fuck,” she grumbled to herself. Her coat seemed to try to hug itself to her tighter as she stood, but provided no warmth only a sensation of claustrophobia. She attempted to focus on anything but her swimming head but found that task too monumental to accomplish and stumbled forward with the shifts in her balance.

Unsure what to do, Gusty let the whims of the remaining hallucinations to take her where they would. Her thoughts began drifting to other episodes like this, inevitably the first one being caused by her least favorite creature, Stormwalker. As if the images she saw were purposely trying to toy with her the face of the demon-stallion appeared. She closed her eyes and thought of how impressed she was by Bunker’s ability to pilot the contraption she rode. The response was just quick but not as strong, the colors and images blurring into something less intelligible. That was enough for Gusty to make her way up to the cabins.

Cautiously ascending the stairs up to the officer cabins, Gusty lifted the trap door with her magic. Once fully on the next level she let it drop and leaned against the wall, her sweat having turned cold from the stress of the reactive spirits before her eyes. Once she recovered she tried the nearest door to a cabin and found it locked. A sudden set of barks emanated from the door and the sounds of a dog’s claws echoed through the cracks in the frame.

“Sorry, Gunther.” She backed away from the door, “I need to be alone for a while, buddy.”

A vague whimpering replied as she moved to the next door. She ignored it, the sensory overload making it easy. She tried the handle with her magic, feeling unable to lift her hooves up to the lock. The door swung open and she found a large room with an equally large bed along with a vanity. She moved haphazardly towards the chair of the vanity so she might lean forward on its flat surface instead of trying to lay flat. Gusty noticed her trunk of clothes and several other suitcases that she had brought before their sight only a reminder of easier times.

Gusty sat ungracefully in the plushy chair and looked at her face in the mirror. She looked tired. No, that was too generous, she looked completely exhausted. Still, she looked better than she felt, even with her mane having become a mess from her brief nap.

Leaning her head forward, she rested on her hooves before voices of different folk echoed in her head. Most were words from the previous few days. But, slowly one became dominant, drowning the others out with its sharp, hissing tone.

Weak. Little. Alicorn. Where’s your fire?

Afraid of a few fancy lights? I thought we were stronger than that.

Gusty closed her eyes tightly at the sound. It was the not-her voice. Churning, a very angry, growling sort of criticisms at her it continued its tirade

Letting poor Gabriella live? Might as well just make out with Stormwalker.

I already know you like him. Already know how weak you are.

Gusty hated that little voice. She hated it because in a way it was right. In the past she would have followed Gertrude’s order just simply on the grounds that the damage that had been done warranted it. And, now it taunted her, as if it was not truly a part of herself but instead a separate entity. Unfortunately, Gusty could never challenge what it said, because in the end it was a figment of both her hallucinations and her own self-loathing. At least nopony else knew that bit, except perhaps the stallion in question. Her realization brought her around some, and made her want to fight against the little voice. What else did she have to do for an hour, right?

Now, I’m fighting the voices in my head. she thought, I suppose it can’t get worse?

Only if I cannot make you see reason.

As if a projection of my own anger is anypony to listen to.

Oh, this game has been going on for a very long time my dear.

I wasn’t even aware we were playing you mustn’t be any good.

Ha! Already on the offensive, that’s what I like to see!

The not-her had won just like that. Gusty could feel it. The anger had made her lash out, if perhaps in a harmless way, but the implications made her feel, dirty. She sat up briefly to glance at herself in the mirror. She beheld not herself but a twisted monster.

It looked somewhat like her, but its eyes were blackened pits, and its mane pulled away from its head in crazy directions. It still managed to hold the shape of a pony but otherwise the thing she looked at was such horrid version of herself she shrieked in shock.

Remember, I always win. No matter how many times you restart the game!

The image in the mirror smiled with its wide jagged jaw as the words met her ears. Petrified she stared back in horror hoping for anything to pull her out of the moment. She did not have to wait long, the sweet bliss of true unconsciousness faded her vision dark. Gusty let the natural reaction to such a terrible creature take her far, far away from beast. At least that was what she hoped it did.

Next Chapter: Act 2: Chapter 13 - Legacy Estimated time remaining: 15 Hours