Entry 030 - First Ascension (Part Four)

“Where did you get the ridiculous costume, griffon?”

Procrustean turned on me the moment the doors to the tiny elevator closed. The little space was made more enclosed by his beastly mass. He approached me, forcing me to back up until I was on my hind legs, my spine between the far corner of the box and his eyes glaring into mine. I tried to hold my cool, not let him see how easily intimidated he made me feel. That small dark grin made me believe he knew anyway. The box whirred and jumped, giving the odd sensation of light-headedness as we descended.

“Was this supposed to be a flawless infiltration? Did you truly believe the studious stallions and mares in this building would overlook a giant idiot dressed like a Somnambulan mummy?” It was soon clear he wasn't going to speak again until I answered him and further incriminated myself. I thought about staying silent and leaving everything to chance, but my bumbling beak wouldn't obey my thoughts.

“No, I didn't,” I openly admitted, carrying on when Procrustean tried to get another word in, “I thought I'd surprise them though. Appear in front of them an' make their days. You see, laddie, I'm a wee bit of a celebrity now. Ponies like me.” Something warmed through my breastbone, reminding me that the medallion was still swinging about inside my suit.

“Ah,” the big bastard finally gave me a bit of space to breathe as he moved out of my zone of comfort, no additional mirth to give, “I had heard this. Then, you threatened our real celebrity jewel, Mellow Melody. Very exemplary behavior.” He turned to look at himself in the reflection of the elevator doors, and I pulled off the heavy boots, finally able to find some mercy by freeing my cramped talons and paws. He glanced at the mirror image of me and frowned deeply.

“How did you fit those 'things' in boots made for hooves? Did you not feel uncomfortable?” He was curious rather than concerned for my suffering. I gave a small grunting shrug as I stretched out my claws and toes.

“I don’t feel much in them,” I responded. Since he seemed to want more of an answer than that, I continued. “When I was a wee chick, some foals who you'd have gotten along with nicely, I think, pinned me down and cut 'em reet to the bone. I've nay been ever able to sense a thing in 'em since.” I took a look at the pointed crooks, while the ogre's response to the story was a mere hum. He looked up at the numbers slowly ticking down.

“There was no way you were going to pass for Busty Biceps,” he muttered, sounding disappointed at my ridiculous plan. “You were marked by Dr. Candy the moment you stepped onto her floor. She told me to come to collect you. She is not one for oversharing, but I think she enjoyed letting you believe you had gotten away with your terrible disguise.” I shut my eyes for a moment, breathing out the heavyweight in my lungs. Mole's sister had known the whole time who I was. Once more that day, I'd looked like a complete idiot.

“I know you've been meeting another of your associates over the past few days,” Procrustean lifted his hoof from the floor, examining something on his PipBuck. “I'm surprised that you didn't take Epoxy Heart with you today. I had hoped you were following orders and gathering information about your fellow miscreants. Did she push you to come here alone?”

He had been following me, that had been no surprise. He knew about my meeting with Poxy, which had been a partial surprise. However, he believed I had been there alone. He had no idea about Molasses still masqueraded upstairs! I forgot my peril as I enjoyed the brief respite, glad of the knowledge my little heart of gold was safe for now. It was short-lived.

“Did she push you to come here?!” His yell startled me. For a moment I forgot his question and I stuttered on the answer.

“N-No, I-I mean, aye, I mean--” I scrambled through my thoughts to find a reply that would satisfy the stallion and keep him from searching for Molasses. In my haste, the anger I still had for Poxy bubbled to the surface. “S-She's working with a pony in this Stable.”

“What?” That was news to the Chief of Security, his head reeling around to me with exploding eyes as the door pinged, offering salvation back into the ground floor. Regardless of the opening doors, I still couldn't get past the shocked tyrant blocking the way. “You have to be lying.” Another time, I might have shown loyalty to the ponies I'd entered the Stable with, but she had threatened Mole. I was determined to prove that I wasn't a griffon you could mess with. I hate to say it, but I felt a slight satisfaction as I let the incriminating confession come out.

“Whiskey Jack, the assistant pony to the Hopscotchs. He's isn't too happy his wee sister was killed in that nasty episode in the museum. Those two wanna hold the Stable hostage, so I was making sure they hadn't done anything foolish to stop the ascensions.” Procrustean glared at me in disbelief. I could see by the small dodging movements his eyes made that he was mentally unpicking my story and when he spoke again, even if he wasn't dismissing it completely this time.

“What could either of them have done to affect the ascensions?”

“I dunnae know,” I admitted, thinking that any moment he'd realize my lie and call me on it. Yet, a second later, the lightning struck. “But I heard a Minstrel had gone missing. I thought I'd have a poke about an' see if it wasn't them that did it.”

I found further pride in my story as Crusty was yet again stunned. He wheeled around, letting the doors deflect off of him, the sliding metal barriers useless to stop him as he marched through the corridors. Finally free, I stepped out of the box and freed myself of the coat from my back and bandages from my face, but a bark from him ordering me to follow meant that I wasn’t in the clear yet.

For the next few minutes, he stormed ahead with purpose, until he pushed through the double doors and across the foyer to where Typewriter sat. All he needed to do was demand “Dr. Maud Candy” to the receptionist, and then the assistant was passing him a radio link dialed up to the doctor's office. Listening to Procrustean speak through the link to Molasses' sister, I found his attention on me dropped. In this open area, I could have considered escaping at any point, but I couldn't help myself from sticking around with him to hear whether my plot held weight.

“Maud? Procrustean,” his introductions were familiar yet brief. “Are you missing a Minstrel?” The hint of an answer from the receiver was faint when it reached my ears. He looked at me with disbelief. It was just as unexpected to me that this was information he hadn't been privy to as it was to him that I'd known it before him. “Why in the name of the Princesses wasn't I, or the rest of the council, informed of this?” I watched him hear out the doctor's case and snorted sharply through flaring nostrils, shaking his head heavily. He finally weighed his authority down on her, his voice holding as much strength as his muscles.

“Overlook will have to hear about this… Yes. You’ll have three days after the ascensions to bring a case to the council and tell them what is being done to locate the missing Minstrel… Good. I’m glad you agree… Yes, Maud. You too. Good evening.”

He closed the call and passed the communicator back to the receptionist. Uncertainty filled me as he approached me again, looking frustrated but for once was not entirely directing it to me. He reached me as the double doors bumped open again and I only saw Elmwood protrude from them for a split second before Procrustean ordered my concentration.

“Keep surveillance of Epoxy and Whiskey, I want to know more about their plans. If they're responsible for the lost Minstrel, I expect you to tell me the moment you have proof.” He spun about without another word of farewell and stormed over the blank tiled floors.

“Aye, okay. Bye, friend, lovely seein' ye again,” I said after him, not confident enough to call it. If he heard my lame teasing, he ignored it anyway and departed through the door without another look back at any of us.

“What did you do?” Dr. Whithers, who it appeared had followed behind Elm, asked incredulously. I didn't answer. Instead, I turned back around, pulled off the last pieces of my bad costume and left them lazily on a white seat. I then slid myself into the next available chair and waited, I wasn't going anywhere without Mole.

“How'd you do? Where's Whammy?” Elm immediately pushed in front of me, moving his head under my gaze so that I had nowhere to look but his scarred eyes. I could see concern there, something I didn't see very often on the usually brash and careless horse. It disarmed me. I told him everything in a low voice, from the moment we sneaked into the rear entrance of the facility, to the point where they had witnessed the back end of the Procrustean leaving. The whole time I kept an eye out for Mole and Skimmed. Although many ponies went through the doors none were my girl and our new friend.

“Are you crazy?” Dr. Whithers hissed, having heard the whole account as well, “I was in charge of all of you, how could you do this behind my back? If anypony finds out I was the pony to help you in--”

“Then you tell them you had no knowledge of any of it, which happens to be the truth of it, right?” Elmwood's eyes were back to their tired complacency. “I'll even let you tell anypony who asks that I tied you up, and sat on you, and tickled you with feathers because I'm just that nice.” He patted the pony in the white coat, as though that might reassure him. The corner of the stallion doctor's eye twitched and his eyebrows scrunched down, shaking his head hopelessly. “However, after all, we've talked about, I think you might benefit more by keeping me and my friends out of jail, don't you?”

“What?” I studied the growing stress in Whithers. Elm kept twisting the mental screws that made him squirm until it had him yelling out and throwing his forelegs to the ceiling in protest.

“I have important work to do! Good evening!” Bidding us an agitated adieu, he spun about and headed back towards the doors into the institution. I looked to 'Panda' for answers, feeling too tired from the day's adventure to vocalize the question. He leaned to me and smiled dauntlessly as he chose not to be any less cryptic now.

“We're not the only ones looking for answers,” he said with a wink. An overwhelming desire to berate him after everything else I'd been through churned inside of me, but the scream that came out was quickly turned into one of delight as I saw the mare I loved pass Whithers through the doors. I scrambled out of my chair and half-flew, half-flung myself at her, grabbing and cuddling her closely with a squawk of relief.

“Thank the egg you're safe,” I mumbled into Molasses’ mane, squeezing her strongly and stroking the back of her neck softly. I wasn't about to let her go too quickly, not even when Elm joined the hug. The three of us somehow found our way back to a seat which I could ease the mare into, finally seeing how shaken she was. “How'd you get out of there, lass? Where's Semi Skimmed?” Mole winced at the name as though I'd spat in her face and sniffed fearfully. She somehow managed not to get too tearful although it seemed as though she terribly wanted to.

“Skimmy helped me get out of there, Captain,” she murmured, still aware that the receptionist was not far away, talking to a guard. “She showed me to the elevator and was about to get in it with me when Maud called her back. Semi pushed the button and told me not to come back for her, she wanted me to escape on my own.” She rubbed her nose on the back of her leg and rose her worried eyes to me. I nodded gently and considered suggesting we all stay to wait for her. A clearing throat got my attention though, and we all looked up to see Typewriter was glaring at us, tapping his hoof on the cold unpainted tiles.

“Doctor Candy has just issued an order for me to ensure that ALL of you leave this building. Furthermore, you must not step back into the Yearling Sector this side of the ascension.” All three of us stared at the thin receptionist, the single security pony stood with him, as he pushed up his glasses and wriggled his mustache furiously. When he realized his words alone had no clout, he pointed to the exit. “If you do not leave now, I will be forced to call for more guards. Do you want the security forces here? Or the Head of Security to return?”

“Alright, alright, we hear ye loud and clear, laddie.” I flapped an exhausted wing his way and ushered my friends back through the colorless hall. I felt eased from some of my tension when we released ourselves from the white halls and lambent lights. Nice as it was to see true colors once more, we couldn't stop, forced to keep moving by numerous prompts from the security mare following us. Finally, they stopped and watched us go the rest of the way into the court where the fountain stood, the ballerina still balanced on her plinth and poised, spitting water elegantly over the large pool. There were still reminders of the incidents from the previous days, remembering the lost ponies with their photos, candles, and loving notes. The night was setting in, the lights were fading and the sun was rotating to be replaced by the moon.

As we stepped out of the boundary from the Yearling Sector, I turned back to the guard watching us and shrugged.

“There we go, we did as ye asked. Now have a nice day now, lassie.” She gave a grumpy glare through her fringe at us that reminded me of Bones. I wondered whether all the female guards were taught to give the same disgusted look.

“Remember, there will be consequences if you step into this sector again without permission,” she shook her PipBuck leaden hoof at us, gave us one last serious glare, and eventually turned to return to her post. I watched her go for several seconds then spun back to my comrades, giving a long groan.

“How do we get Semi Skimmed out of there now?” I whined, stomping a talon down with a clatter.

“We don't.” I couldn't believe the two words had just come out of Mole’s mouth, of all ponies. Her head slumped lower than her shoulders, her hooves scuffing the cobblestones as she walked across to the fountain and gazed down at a tea light. Elm and I watched her, not sure what to say or ask as the sugary-sweet’s head lifted up and followed the twilight waterfalls spilling from the frozen dancer. “Before we were going to leave, she said she had to meet Procrustean tonight. She said that if she didn't, he would only meet somepony else. She--” Mole swallowed like she was gulping down one of her hard-boiled candies. “She said it could protect you, or me, or somepony like us.”

I sighed and approached her, reached out to stroke her back slowly and lowered my head to nuzzle her cheek. I consoled and comforted her, suggested that there might be a chance we could still do something for Semi, when Elm gave a shout.

“Hey! Check it out, Whammy!” The pair of us turned around, seeing him pointing up. His hoof was directed to the Ascension Battles board, where the names of the ponies in the running were plastered in white writing on the black background. “Your name's finally famous.”

“WHAT?!” I screeched, thrusting myself into the air. As I did, my wings clipped Molasses on her back by accident, but she only moved out of my way quicker. Hovering, I cast my eyes over each name in front of me, reading them out aloud.

“Mail Master, Bright Side, Ticking Gears, Gy--” I froze, my blood running cold and my eyes stretching until they hurt.

After Gypsy's name, and before Semi Skimmed, was 'Molasses Candy'.

Mole was going to be in the Ascension Battles the very next day.

“No,” I was told I had screamed the singular word as Mole finally admitted the truth. “No.... No... No... NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!” The chocolate mouse squeaked and flinched, seconds away from curling up into a ball at my protests.

“You're supposed to be happy that I might ascend,” she whimpered woefully, “this is supposed to be happy!”

“Crow,” Gypsy grabbed me by the wings with some telekinetic energy and pulled me back sharply, forcing me into a chair. “Yelling at her isn’t going to protect her.”

“I wasn’t yellin’ at her,” I pushed my head into my clawed hands, tugging my bandana over my eyes to hide away from everything, “I was yellin’ at this whole rank situation. You’re in danger of bein’ ascended, as is her, as is Semi Skimmed, and we’re still no closer to figurin’ out where in the butt-buck of Equestria you MIGHT go!” I pushed my palms into my covered eyes and let my released wings tumble down the back of my chair, feeling defeated and lost already. Mole and Gypsy were in danger and there was nothing I could do to protect them.

Eventually, I stopped being a spoiled chick and lifted the cloth from my eyes again, glancing across the room with a quieter apology to Molasses. She already had Pons comforting her, but she still pulled out of his grasp and hopped over to cuddle me strongly instead. Her face pressed against my chest, repositioning herself around the amulet so that she could feel the feathers I’d allowed to breathe from the gap above it.

We'd dropped back down to the secret room, in the drains beneath T-Thirty, where Gypsy and the Tunnel Bugs had greeted us. Mole had been silent to all of my questions during the journey down, only admitting she was definitely in the battles when we were with plenty of ponies who could handle me. It had been a wise decision, not because I’d hurt her, but because I’d probably have hurt another pony trying to safeguard her.

The private underground room seemed to have become a base camp for the seven of us, yet even after I calmed down I was still eyeing the ‘STABLETEC GUTTERING NETWORK’ crest on the wall dubiously. The Changelings might not have been willing to reveal themselves in front of Molasses, but I was still struggling to trust these disguised creatures even when they were hard at work trying to help us.

The room had received a few extra pieces of furniture since my last visit. The large operations table had more seats and a second table had spawned filled with pieces of broken down kit including a terminal, a couple of old and busted PipBucks and a group of StealthBucks too. The corners of the room had been given spring-mattress beds that didn’t look all that comfortable. Finally, the armory area that Lumbah was protecting had collected a few more items, including my bow and quiver of arrows, rifles, and pistols that could only have been taken from the Security Barracks. So far, it felt like we were doing a better job of gathering the resources needed to fend off Procrustean and his cronies than Poxy was. Seeing that added to the pleasure I felt getting my own back on the troublesome thorn in my side.

“Hey, can we just take a moment to thank Molasses for her bravery? She helped get us the information we needed from her sister. This will hopefully start to answer the questions we’ve been trying to answer for a lifetime. Thank you for your courage, Miss Candy.” Pons gave the gratified response, who we were ensuring we called Private Joke around Molasses. He and Elmwood had taken her PipBuck to try and gather the information she’d downloaded from her sister’s terminal.

“It was nothing,” she peeped, peering out from against my chest, “I just sneaked in, figured out her passwords, plugged my PipBuck in, avoided the Head of Security… Okay, maybe it was a bit of a big deal. Oh, squeakness! If Maud finds out…”

“She won’t,” I reassured her. “Now we’ve got this information we won’t need to cross her path again, lassie.”

“Err…” I scowled at Private Joke as he murmured the utterance. He gave me an awkward grimace and gestured to the device Elmwood still tinkered on. “So, we’re not quite in the clear yet.”

“What do yeh mean?” I asked warningly, with a tone that promised he wasn’t in the clear for a black eye just yet.

“All of the information Whammy downloaded is encrypted,” Elm advised as he leered into the screen through his hooves-free magnifying headgear. “It is clever stuff, not only has it spread and lanced itself into as many areas of Molasses’ PipBuck as possible but it’s still doing so now.”

“Alright,” I shrugged with a huff, “is that wee detail supposed to mean something to anypony in any language, laddie?”

“He means it is cutting itself up and putting the different bits of itself into different parts of her PipBuck. It’s like cutting up a bad poem and putting it in different bins to make sure nopony reads it.” PJ passed Elmwood a new tool as he explained the reality of the matter to us. “If we extract it as it is now, we could lose everything Moley gathered and make the PipBuck unusable. So this could take some time.” With great timing, the machine made a loud error sound, and Elm swore under his breath before laughing like a mad stallion. Yet, he gave no explanation for the chuckle or the blasphemy as he got back to work on the computer, chuntering to himself. I rolled my eyes and looked back down to Molasses.

“We’ll get it sorted before you need it again, okay lass?” I assured her. The warm truffle nodded slowly in my forelegs and gave a long sleepy yawn, her stomach grumbling hungrily. Bones caught the sound and, while the pair of us had cuddled and watched the working stallions wrestled with the difficult task of removing the data, she moved over to a set of cupboards. A short time later she trotted towards us, levitating and passing to us two trays of daisy and cheese sandwiches. One was for Molasses, and I realized in surprise that she was offering the other to me. I took it cautiously and glanced at her, taking a deep breath.

“Thanks,” I responded, and thinking I was making some progress with the changeling, I joked, “s’not poisoned, is it?”

“Ugh!” Bones gave a disgusted flick of her eyes to the heavens and turned away, her tail cracking the air in annoyance as she stomped back to her provisional kitchen area.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Smooth, Crow,” pouted Gypsy, passing me with a waft of strong perfume and walking over to talk with Bones privately. I clucked in rejection and looked back down quickly to Molasses.

“I really wasn’t bein’ a bitch this time, lass, I pure thought I was tellin’ a joke.”

“I know,” she smiled weakly, or maybe just sleepily, I couldn’t tell, as she chomped her way happily through her sandwich. “You just need to slow down, think more, be nice, remember your please and thank yous, and make bunny rabbits and knock-knock jokes.” I discovered the sandwich I took a bite out of was delicious. It was no pickled iguana burger, but it was still good.

“Do you know a lot of bunny rabbit jokes, lass?” I asked between mouthfuls. She nodded as spiritedly as she could in her worn-out state.

“What do you have to do to catch a unique rabbit?” She looked up at my blank stare, her bright green eyes shimmering with amusement. “Unique up on it!”

“Ha!” Lumbah let out the bark of merriment which sounded more like he’d been shot in the gut. Then, he buckled over, breaking into a rally of laughter as though he’d never heard a joke before. Big white teeth were shown as Mole was thrilled to see someone enjoying her joke as much as he was. When she didn’t see the same joy in me, she retold the pun over and over until I faked a giggle just to reassure and relieve her. She found and told a few more rib ticklers that had Lumbah in stitches and seemed to enjoy helping the big guy find his funny bone. I soon had to stop her just to make sure that she didn't split the lad in two with laughter.

Once things settled down and Molasses had eaten her meal, she let herself drift into a seemingly restful sleep in my arms. I held her close and got onto my hindlegs, carrying my snoozing little love to a bed. Laying her down, I gazed at her softly. I thought about how short a time this small horse had captured my affections. I couldn't comprehend how everything had changed over less than two weeks, turning me from a griffon who could look after herself to a girl who didn't want to live in a world without this mare. Mole had become such a strong staple in my life that if she ascended this time, I knew I would do everything to join her.

I felt movement behind me and turned to see Gypsy gazing at my little Stable dweller too, her horn lit up. A blanket glistening with Breeze's magic drifted across Candy and lay over her. She ensured she tucked it around Mole warmly that made the snoozing pony smile with a sweet whiffle. The Ribboned Rescuer breathed in deeply and reached out, patted my shoulder which made me wince as I recalled our last meeting. However, she didn't attack me, merely rubbed my back warmly and spoke.

“She's not going to ascend tomorrow.”

“How do you know?” I asked, frowning sharply. “Her sister's in charge of the whole damn thing and is an absolute bitch to the little gem. She could ascend her in spite, Gyps.”

“She could, but she won't,” Breeze informed me and stepped forward to give me a small nuzzle on the cheek. “They won't want her, they'll want me.”

“Who won't want her?” My fatigued brain was wrangled in knots, my limbs ached and my eyes hurt, but I still wanted real answers. “Who would want you? What do you know that I don't?” And all Gypsy could do was give me a forlorn smile, a secret kiss on my feathers and a pet between my wings.

“All I ask is that when the time comes, you have my back. Can you do that, Crow?” She stepped away, and although she held my gaze for a few short seconds, she didn't seem to need my assurance. She was already walking back to Bones when I had thought of how to respond to that.

“Are you going to at least tell me the plan here, Breezy?” She chuckled gently and shook her head, giving me one last passing glance.

“Get some rest, hen. You're going to need it.”

Sighing, I lay my beak down on the mattress and held vigil over Molasses for a few more minutes, her peaceful expression sedating my mind. Eventually, when I felt myself on the cusp of drifting too far, I crawled into the bed with her, wrapping her up in my arms and nuzzling her neck. She crooned happily and turned towards me, bunting her head under my chin. Her warmth was a solace to my complaining limbs and her soft breathing reminded me of how lucky I was to have her now.

For the brief remaining minutes that I was able to stay conscious, I held the pony dear to me and wordlessly thanked the universe for giving me this loving creature, only asking that it didn't take her away from me too soon. Not long later, her body, her soft snoring and the events of the day took me all into a blissful, kind slumber.

The next morning my body was awoken and my eyes were greeted by Elmwood shaking us roughly.

“Goo-ood morning, sleepyheads. Rise and shine. Wakey, wakey, eggs and no-bake-y because they don't do good food down here. Just the boring hay-bake-y that doesn't taste right once you've had real bake-y.”

“What are you talking about?” Bones grunted from the desk. When I found the strength in my muscles to look over, I saw her toiling over a sizzling pan on a set of camping stoves, and not long after loaded up the promised breakfast onto a set of rolls and passed them out among the group. I thanked her, without disparaging her food this time, and tucked into the meal as I kept a yawning Mole upright with my wing. Soon she was able to sit upright and eat as Elm produced a PipBuck in front of her.

“You fixed it?” She gasped in joy.

“No,” he responded cheerfully, “heh, heh, this is a spare. We're going to be working on your PipBuck for quite a while, Whammy, but this one has all the same amenities as Crow's does so I'm sure you'll love it.”

“Oh no,” I groaned as Mole elevated the cuff onto her foreleg and clipped it together, watching the start-up sequence, “don't tell me you've included--”

“Hi!” Mole's Bucky giggled innocently on her arm as the PipBuck logo faded away to reveal him, “I'm Bucky, your PipBuck buck! I'm here to help!”

“Hi Bucky,” squeaked Molasses, swallowing down her breakfast sandwich and slurping the yellow egg juice off of her muzzle, “I'm Molasses. You can call me Mole, I like candy making, parties, baking, parties, more candy making, and Crow.” She briefly smiled joyfully to me, then looked confused at my unimpressed face.

“That's great,” chirped her PipBuck, “I heard that you like baking! Do you like buns?”

“Do I!” affirmed the owner gaily, the single question making her forget my discouraging looks.

“Have you ever stuffed your face between a pair of buns and eaten them?” Bucky asked in awe.

“Don't answer that,” I whined, but I was too slow to stop her.

“Have I! That's only my most favorite thing to do! Especially when they have a creamy frosting!” Elmwood fell about laughing deviously at the hours of innuendos he had inflicted on the poor unsuspecting little Mole. I stepped over him with a face of thunder and snapped my beak in frustration above his head. He looked up at me dozily and grinned.

“I hope you're proud of yourself,” I grumbled.

“Very, look at how happy Whammy is, she's got a new bes-- Ow, ow, ow, okay, okay!” At his protests, I let go of the foreleg I had grabbed and twisted, patting him on the head with a disapproving shake, snorting.

“Change it back,” I ordered, letting him up. However, before he could reach it, Gypsy called out to us from the main door back into the drains.

“We've just had the alert to get to 'Kiva's Moon Palace' for the first stage of the Ascension Battles. We need to get going,” she said as she held open the door for us. The brunette filly checked her PipBuck in concern, finding no messages or warnings for herself. Elm suggested it could still be due to the machine starting up, and sure enough seconds after she'd questioned it, Bucky called out that she had important new mail. The moment she opened it, her screen lit up with a countdown to her first battle, and that seemed to be the precursor for her nerves. Leaving Elmwood and the Tunnel Bugs behind, I guided the jittering pony within my wing to follow Breeze to 'Kiva's Moon Palace'.

By the time we had passed through the sewer passageways, the secret entrances and up onto the main streets, Molasses fretting had increased to full-on trembles. The roads were eerily almost empty, as though the ponies who had gone to bed that night had not woken up. The shops had closed for the Battles and most of the residents we did pass seemed to be running in the same direction we were heading.

Only as we reached the Songbird Sector did we start to find the majority of the occupants filling the thoroughfare, queuing for the four venues hosting each of the Ascension Battles. We moved into the pathway we thought would take us towards the arena Gypsy and Mole would be performing in and not long afterward heard somepony calling their names.

I flapped up to find the caller over the herd and spun about, using my ears to find them. Grimly I discovered Midnight Dreamer was the pony making the invitation cries over the group, a clipboard hooked in her ankle and her body raised on hind-hooves to seek them. Spotting me, she looked up and glowered, the cheek where I’d accidentally slashed her was covered by gauze and a bandage. Not wanting a further confrontation with her, I quickly alighted into the queues to disappear from her view and grabbed the girls.

“Alright, lasses, DJ Dreamer over there is gonna look after you. Moley,” I collected my nervous lover and pulled her in close while trying not to arouse too much suspicion. The last thing we needed was the ponies about us to realize Mole and I were illegally infatuated. “Listen to Gypsy and don’t let her out of her sight. She might get a wee bit cranky now and again but she’s a good egg really. And don’t forget your medicine, you havenae taken it today yet.” I could see a slight paleness to her face caused by the molerat disease in her blood.

“I will, I promise I’ll look after her too,” she told me despite her quaking. I released her and turned to my old friend.

“And Gyps—”

“I forgive you,” she blurted out, leaving me slightly wrong-footed by the interruption. “You weren’t to blame for what happened to my foal, and you hadn’t done anything that I wouldn’t have done for who I love. So, promise me that whatever happens, you’ll let that go. Let everything negative go and draw a line under it.” She gazed into my eyes calmly and kindly. Then she reached for my shoulder one more time. “From now on, you’re the Guardian Griffon. Got it, Flaps?”

“I…” I couldn’t help myself, dragging her into my arms for a hug, and including Mole after a few ticks since I didn’t want a repeat of the candy shop incident. I held them close and dear with a sigh and finally released them from my grip, ushering them towards Dreamer’s insistent calls.

“Go on, good luck. I’ll be peepin’ from the audience, and don’t you dare ascend without me, either of you, you hear?” And, risking everything for the last three words, I leaned to Mole’s ear to whisper. “I love ye.”

Both looked back, pushing through the throng, one face confident and reassuring, the other scared and uncertain. Then, the moving ponies gobbled them up, and I caught a relieved sounding Midnight’s voice before the other conversations overwhelmed her greeting them. Suddenly, I felt a lot more lonely and I let a numbing power move my limbs of their own accord, carrying me into the seating area of the auditorium.

I thought there had been a lot of ponies in Serenity Gardens on the day of the memorial ceremony, but that still didn’t prepare me for the heaving masses that squeezed into ‘Kiva's Moon Palace’ arena. Despite the Battles taking place in four different arenas, there were still a ton of ponies from the Stable who had filed in to witness the first round of the contests. It blew my mind to think there were as many dwellers here as there were preparing to watch the competitions in 'The Magnolia', 'Falling Shadow,' and 'Aria Di Sobretto' concert halls.

The crowd was babbling excitedly about who they knew would be performing and who they thought might go on to win the battles. Gypsy’s moniker “The Ribboned Rescuer’ was graced on ponies lips more often than any other name as I passed between them.

“Both of them got a place, Molasses Candy too,” I heard another pony mumble eagerly. My head swiveled and I studied the pony who was delivering this rumor to her friend. “They were both survivors of the attack by those rat-things. The only one who didn’t get into this Ascension Battle was-”

“Hush!” Her friend hissed and gave a quick, simpering smile at me. Despite being reminded of my failure, I lifted a cheeky smirk of my own.

“Aye, me, but that’s okay, but at least Mellow Melody isn’t in the running either, aye?”

“Um… well… actually, she’s part of the contestants singing at ‘Falling Shadow,’ since she’s—”

“Hot Shit’s sister, aye,” I rolled my eyes and carried on towards the stage with a newfound loathing for Melody. Of course, she’d gotten into the competition, she probably didn’t even have to sing, just go down on her brother like the weird and probably incestuous buckers they were. I equally hated how quickly news traveled in this overgrown rabbit warren. I had known that Gypsy had gotten into the competition, but I hadn’t asked Molasses after she’d sung how she fared. There was a pang of certain guilt that came with that.

The contest was due to start once the final second of the ‘Seven Day Rule’ ticked away. A timer above the stage showed that there was now only an hour and a few minutes left and once it ran out, anypony left having not sung would be fodder for the Minstrels. On this occasion, our PipBucks had been provided with a message early the previous day to advise that everypony had already been screened through the first stage of the auditions and the contestants had been chosen. It then directed those interested in the competitor names to the big blackboard in the center market ring.

Faced with an hour of waiting, I found myself forced to occupy my own time alone. At first, I admired the blue-skied, puffy-clouded room until the number of hot bodies made me uncomfortable. Then I tried to use it looking up rabbit jokes on my PipBuck until Bucky found dirtier ones that had me sniggering. It was only while I was playing a game that seemed to be loosely based on the GrogMacIntosh comics if the big warrior hero had been made of six or seven tiny green squares, that I had an epiphany. I still had the holotapes I’d stolen from Hot Shot, and even though I was certain I should have let Molasses read them first, I needed something here to alleviate my boredom. I took one out of my saddlebag and popped it into my PipBuck.

It turned out that the holotape consisted of a bunch of letters dating back a hundred years ago. Even more exciting than that was where they seemed to be coming from, or to. Countess Coloratura! The device wanted me to try and read the entry that came up, but luckily I found a way to convince Bucky to read them aloud for me. I adjusted my bloom on my bandana and settled in for a listen. It started off juicily enough.

“My dearest secret sister, how are you settling in?

“I’m sorry I haven’t had time to see you yet. I have been working with the Overmare to get the music halls set up for the future of our Stable. I cannot tell you much at this stage but it’s all exciting stuff. It’s been a complicated task and it is a shame you haven’t been able to be a part of it. I’m looking forward to catching up with you soon, however, I should be available this coming Wednesday to meet you for a bite to eat?

“Life here is going to be very different to the life that we experienced topside, however, I think we are both strong enough and smart enough to move past the differences and enjoy this Stable for what it is. I have heard rumors that they may well close the main gates early because of the growing risks outside, however that is just a rumor and our Overmare believes that the locking mechanism is just a precaution. Either way, it seems that we won’t be underground for very long, based on the project I’ve been working on.

“I’d love to tell you more but it’s all hush-hush right now. RSVP me on our dinner date, so that we can share the gossip.

“Your SSMFF,
“Soprano~”

That intrigued me. Sounded like things were already hotting up before the doors had closed on the Stable. I opened the next file and had Bucky start reading while I tried to find a place to sit.

“Hey Soppy,

“About time I heard from you. I mean, we have only been a thing for a decade, so it's understandable that you might forget me. But, I understand you've been busy so I'll forgive you. This time. If you buy me a cake on our next date, because we do still do that, don't we? Date?

“It's fine though, I've been getting used to the new place too, figuring out how to work this thing on my ankle and performing for the 'intimate' (I mean small, don't get your hopes up, Rara) crowds in the Stable. I didn't think this was going to be a permanent gig, just a haven while Equestria figured out how to prevent all-out war. Do you really think they'll close the gate? Do you know what is going to happen to the ponies outside? We've both got friends out there that we want to be safe.

“I don't need answers straight away, Ra. Just save them up like I'm saving them for our date night in a few days' time. For the record, I'm not mad at you for being busy, but I could use a sooner heads up than two weeks, okay?

All my love,
Birdy.”

Birdy. It had to be Songbird Serenade. So those two were knocking boots, huh? If only I could have told my old man that, I'd have loved to have seen his face. The next letter on the holotape came from a month later and was once more sent by 'Birdy'.

“Hello again?

“I wanted to check once more you were still alive. After the meal at that fancy restaurant, we were doing great, and then you slipped off of the edge of Equestria again the moment we went into lockdown. I don't like how much Overmare Cloverleaf has you doing. When we both signed the agreement to move into this Stable, I thought it was on the understanding that we'd both continue to sing and perform together. Since the door closed, I seem to have become a solo act once more.

“There's something the other ponies keep talking about called the 'Gardens of Equestria'. They say that when we finally find out what the musical halls you've been working on are for, it will all be connected. Is that true? What are the 'Gardens of Equestria'? You keep telling me it's for our future but how am I supposed to know what that means when you're all cloak and dagger about the details? For once, go back to who we were. Tell me something. Anything.

“I don't want to lose you, but as big as this place is, it shouldn't be as easy for you to avoid me as you are making it.

“Tell me you still love me.

“Your sister, growing more secret all the time,
“Birdy.”

Ouch. I couldn't help myself, I had to hear another as I found myself thinking of how I would feel if Mole and I became that frayed along the lines.

“My dearest sister,

“Please don't say that. Yes, I have been busy but that will not change our relationship. I promise it. We are still as close as any sisters could possibly be.

“I cannot tell you much, but I can promise answers will be coming soon. Trust Cloverleaf, she may seem distant but she has had a lot to deal with in the past few weeks, what with her entire family being left out behind the gate and having to suddenly manage more ponies than she was expecting. She will come through for us, and the future for all of us is bright.

“That said, there may be some changes you don't agree with, and I have to ask you to respect them. They are for your own good and things will come out right when we all go to the Gardens of Equestria. I cannot tell you much about it right now, but I promise you, it is going to be good.

“Your SSFF,
“Soprano~”

The note ended with a missing letter, and I wondered what the significance of that lost 'M' was in SSFF when I noticed Soprano sent another message only an hour after that. This one was incredibly brief.

“A Stable Meeting in the Serenity Garden has just been announced for this Sunday. Come see me afterward. I think we will need to talk.

“Coloratura.”

That... was a very different tone. I tried to guess what had changed in those sixty seconds. The next message from Birdy didn't keep me in the dark for long.

“What the hell, Soprano?

“First of all, I couldn't possibly see you after the announcement. How could I? How could you support an Overmare so wickedly biased against same-sex relationships, which by the way, we are in, or were until this law came into place? 'All homosexual relationships must be immediately disbanded.' Disbanded? Really? Why not call it what it is? Discriminated.

“My heart is broken. I don't know what to think. I don't care about these Celestia-damned Ascensions you got so high on explaining to us or the singing competitions or the bucking Gardens of Equestria. All I care about is that you've just taken the best, most hopeful thing we had in our lifetimes and have thrown it away along with your sense and dignity. I hope history does not judge you for siding with the Overmare on this too harshly, Coloratura. I hope you find a stallion and have foals and do all that damned stuff we would not have had because we once believed in true, soulful love. I hope you forgive yourself.

“If you see sense, contact me again. Otherwise, leave me the hell alone.

“The sister you have forsaken,
“Songbird Serenade.”

I couldn't read much more after that point. I could only sit and reflect on the words Bucky had recited to me, wondering how the poor pegasus mare got past that act of rejection from someone she loved. I realised I knew the answer. It had happened to me before, in a time that felt so long ago now. The scenarios were different but the emotions were the same, and that was the reason I needed to pause and heal. Some wounds don't become scars, they hold themselves open to the elements and let the dirt and the sand clog them until they feel like they're closed, until the infection itches once more. That was what my heartache was to me.

That was what Snowbird had been to me.

Time passed, the hall filled impossibly with more bodies than it was surely meant to hold, and I sat furiously in the pushing, shoving group. It reminded me that I was here and not waiting to come on from backstage. Regardless of the fact that I was protected from ascension, recalling one pain reminded me of the public humiliation that had stung harder than any of my radroach bites. Being one of the crowd, when my voice had been praised as superior after my performance, felt like an extremely hard kick in the unmentionables. The more the memory hung about, the more the weight of my amulet seemed to grow, like a bomb waiting to be told it could explode.

“No.”

My mental representation of Mellow Melody in that moment was a grinning, sneering witch, glad of the chance to put a griffon who was clearly superior to her down. I wished I could go back and punch her in her smug face, just to reply, “I don’t need your stinkin’ vote, you over-inflated goat-bucker!”

“It’s starting!” A cry near me brought me back to the present with a bump, my head turning to see an alabaster foal with curled purple horsehair perched on top of her black and white father. She was pointing her hoof to the stage as though there were other sights and sounds he could have been distracted by and her face shone with pure joy. If I’d have looked any longer, I might have thought her to be the reincarnation of the Ministry Mare of Image, but I was too engrossed in thoughts of myself. She could have been cheering me on, I imagined, and it did nothing to improve my mood. However, she was right. The house lights dimmed, the laser show spread across the crowd quickly so as not to blind anypony and the spotlights illuminated the stage. Fog poured onto the platform from both sides and I panicked that a fire might have broken out, looking to the other ponies and expecting them to be running for their lives. I was shocked when it just made them cry out louder and push closer towards the stage, knocking us forward into a near-crushing amount of bodies. Being careful of the dad and his foal, I pushed the other onslaught out of the way to give me breathing space and lifted my head to the pony closest to me, reaching out to them.

“Fire,” I cried, “Are y' barmy? We have to get out of here!”

“Fire?” she blinked dumbly, before chuckling.

“Yes! Why isn’t everypony pegging it to the nearest exits?” I exclaimed in dismay.

“You never seen fake smoke machines, honey?” the random pony laughed before returning their gaze to the stage. I turned back as well, looking at the swirling mist, and immediately feeling like an absolute idiot.

“Buckin' ponies and their buckin' fake buckin' smoke,” I grumbled, but only to myself. I let myself accept the revelation of the pretend smog and joined her in devoting my attention to the cloudy stage. Triumphant music blasted out of the surrounding speakers and the final countdown began.

“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six…”

The countdown passed five. All lights not focused on the stage area extinguished.

“--Four, three, two, one!” The crowd cheered, having accomplished their journey to the last second and the noise grew when the Overseer galloped into the spotlight, his heroic robin-breast cape billowing behind him.

“Ladies and Gentlecolts,” he announced engagingly, “here they are, your final few for the Magnolia's battles, hoping to win a place in the ascension this month!” Out of the stage floor, a head begun to rise, perfectly manicured and stylized with, I had to admit, pretty sexy smokey eyes. The head proved to be attached to the body of a mare from the Stable. She raised one of her legs to wave at the crowd and a small sect of ponies must have recognized her as their calls became more shrill and excitable. She continued traveling up as two more heads appeared at either side of her shoulders. They too showed delighted expressions, raised legs waving to the mares and stallions they had beat to win this chance to leave the Stable. Overlook continued to narrate what we were seeing before our eyes.

“As has always been the tradition, we have the contestants in order of when they placed in the last seven days. Check out those smiles! From spots one to four we have Eventide Blue, Violet Gram, Bright Side, and Semi Skimmed…“ There was the first face I recognized. Semi's swirling white mane had been styled beautifully and illuminated with the colored lights bouncing through it. She wore positivity on her face like a mask that certainly didn't look real to me, especially as I'd seen her nerves about this process with my own eyes. There was something else to her wide eyes and a nearly-pained smile on her lips that reminded me of a chem-user, and I wondered whether that was the thing she'd had to take to get herself up there.

It transpired that the finalists were being brought up on a pyramid plinth elevated up from below the stage. On the stand at the competitor's hooves, they had numbers dedicated to them, the same numbers also stickered on their jumpsuits. StableTec’s dusky yellow and overpowering blue was all over their tower as they kept rising. Each pony stood in front of a silver and gold disk made from the StableTec logo, with an arm like the single long hand of a clock inside it. Those, it transpired, were the points clocks that would decide the winners of the battles.

Watching this, I realized Overlook was introducing the next visible ponies and gasped when I picked out Gypsy from the next four. I’d never seen her golden and ribboned mane so perfect. Somepony must have gone to a lot of trouble to trim and straighten the usual mess of tangles and split-ends and I found myself fancying her all over again, despite my devotion to Mole. I flapped up over the crowd to get a better look and she saw me. She greeted me with a hoof swish, I saluted her back feeling my cheeks clam up.

“Gypsy Breeze, annnd Molasses Candy! Looking splendid, new girls. Lastly, we have the—“

I stopped listening again and flicked my eyes to the pony waving frantically at me one step down from Breeze. Mole was unrecognizable, her poofy curl of mane had been flattened back, she’d had a gold ribbon as big as her ears placed behind it and she’d been touched up with a little make-up. I stared at what was very clearly now my little bundle of fun hopping from one hoof to the next and flailing for me to ensure she got my attention. I couldn’t believe my eyes. She was cute before but now? Now, she was… hot.

Distracted by the change to my mare, I did not see and only felt the grasp on my leg that pulled me back through the bodies to ground level. I grunted as I came down flat but was quick to scramble to my feet, looking for my challenger. Bones, or Antennae as I now knew her, relinquished the magical power from her horn that she’d used to return me to earth with an undisguisable disdain in her gaze at me. When I opened my beak to say something, she shook her head and spun her hoof. She wanted me to keep my eyes on the stage.

“For once, could you nay treat me like something bad ye stepped in?” I asked of her, sensing her eye roll as I twisted back around and faced the front, watching Overlook saunter forward. The pyramid stopped its ascent and the music came to a triumphant close, all contestants stood waving and looking excited to be a part of what came next, whether they were as jubilant inside or not. The crowd burst into exaggerated applause and rose their voices, trying to prove they were happy and not jealous of the members of their Stable preparing to sing for their last supper. Just as Semi and Mole had confirmed, there were two couples stood together on the same plinth, sharing a clock as they huddled happily in each other’s forelegs. It would have been sweet if their fate had been assured as safe.

“There they are, everypony. The Ascension hopefuls, ready and raring to perform. Now, our Stable T-Thirties know the drill, but for those that don’t, here’s how this works. These fine folks are about to sing, and the devices behind our friends here will clock up how well they are singing!” Overlook rose both forelegs up on the last words and the congregation around me cooed in wonder. For a brief moment, I wondered if listening to the letters by Soprano and Serenade had taken me back to the past. I checked on Bones to see if I’d lost her in the time hop. She glanced at me.

“They always whoop,” she explained, “it’s part of the show. Even though they know what’s coming.”

“The more points they clock up, the more of a chance they’ll have of ascending. Make sure to cheer your chosen Ascender’s name at the end of the song, they’ll have a better opportunity to finish with a big score.” Everypony cheered, some of the preparing singers on the podium clapped hooves, others turning to wish their opponents luck.

“Is everypony ready?” Overlook cried.

“YEAH!” was the answer from the hall.

“ARE YOU?” he asked, seemingly developing a temporary deaf ear to the shouts.

“YEEEAH!” The roar and stomps of agreement shook the floor, finally confirming it for the Overstallion, who put his forehooves together and nodded smugly.

“Wonderful. Then let me hoof you over to your chosen Ascenders, singing “They’re Good To Me!”

The barely-bearded stallion pranced off of the stage exit on the left with his teeth flashed at us one last time, and the lights curled back up to the choir shuffling and straightening up. Chests inflated, eyes scanned the darkness before them. Molasses’ green dots found mine and she gave a brave if uncomfortable smile. Beside her, Semi looked like she was about to break down into tears. Gypsy sought me one last time as well, gave both Bones and me a single nod, then faced forward in determination.

The band, to the side of the stage, strung up the first jazzy chords, the room broke into clopping at the sounds filling the silence. All too soon, it was time for the group before us to open mouths, lift voices, and sing.

Author's Notes:

Music for this chapter; Preparing the Chariots/ Horn of Plenty - James Newton Howard. Click here to listen to it!

Quick thanks to Salty Alty (Link!) and Official Fallout Equestria (Link!) for editing.

The First Ascension might be one of the longest parts I've written but all of this is proving essential to the plot. There's a lot to unpack in this chapter so if you want to read and then discuss it, come to my Discord! https://discord.gg/cQkyDSN

Also, if you're enjoying it or you want to put your thoughts across, please share your ideas, comments, and horse noises below!

As always, thanks for reading and I'll catch you in chapter thirty-two!

All good things,
Scar