The clip-clop of my hooves on the well-worn path into Ponyville is my only accomplice as I make my way into town. The morning's silence is eerie—foreboding almost—and does nothing for my shaky resolve, even with a light amplifying crystal wrapped in my tail. It's bad enough when you wake up fearing an attack by the Royal Guard that never comes. When the whole town is deathly silent, a whole new level of unease sets upon you.

Luna most certainly knows where I am, so why have I yet to be set upon by the guard? She was clearly manipulating my dreams, but there is no purpose to it unless her intent was delaying. Since awakening on the pile of blankets in the den of the Crusaders, there has been no greater thought on my mind, save one: what do I do now?

The logical choice is to run and hide until the end of this all, or lay down and let the Guards come for me. What would that accomplish though? Running and hiding is what I've been doing this whole time, isn't it? All that's gotten me is trouble. Running away to Equestria has only made my emotional burden skyrocket. By running away from Lyra, I got wrapped up in the Pound Cake tragedy, and discovered that Twilight is some sort of impostor. Now she's probably deceived the Princesses with some sort of lie.

No, I think I've done enough running. Nopony can see that impostor Twilight for what she really is. Maybe if I can show everypony the phony she is, I can do something worthwhile. I'm not just going to lie down and die quietly. If I have to cease to be, I'm going down in a blaze of glory, and the lavender mimic is going down with me.

But how to do it? Certainly, my magic seems to have returned along with my resolve, but what is the worth of the ability to lift things, set fire to water, and create bright light against the powers of the supposed personal student of Princess Celestia? I mean, I suppose I could use the cells in her body to set her on fire, but I don't think that'll win me any friends.

If she's some sort of shapeshifter, I'll have to get the drop on her in order to reveal her true form to everybody. If I can prove that she's a fake, I might be able to earn a bit of trust from the Princesses. They've got to be able to do something for me. They're only preventing mind death; it's nothing like resurrecting the dead, so it's gotta be doable!

So if I'm to get the drop on her, there has to be a plan; walking into this without one would be absolute suicide. If I'm not careful, she'll just have me bound in hoof-cuffs and have me hauled away, never to be heard from again! Flaming water is out of the question, and just hucking a rock at her from behind won't work. It's gotta be something honorable, too. No jumping out of the bushes and scaring the shit out of her.

No throwing rocks, no fire, and no bush-jumping. What can I do with telekinesis and really bright light then? I mean, I suppose I could blind her and kick her in the face, but is that any different from jumping out of the bushes? Not really. Though... I suppose if I made a very specific duel challenge, it could be considered fair play, but I would still need a clincher.

I guess this is the line of thinking that lead me to linger a bit longer at the den. The memory of the light amplifying crystal lodged in the ceiling gave me an idea. That thing made a dark room bearable in the moonlight, and just right to make sleep impossible as the sun rose, what could that thing do with a high intensity light cantrip? The very idea of a miniature sun is too much to pass up. If I do that, though, I'd almost certainly be blinded for hours, if not days.

That gets me thinking as I walk; Pinkie Pie stashes everything around Ponyville in case of emergency. I could probably check the hollows of a few trees and find some eye-patches or a blindfold. Not only that, but a blindfold would probably provide some psyche-out factor. If nothing else, me showing up in the center of town with my eyes covered may imply to everybody around that something has happened to my eyes, and distract from what I’m up to until it’s too late.

I grin to myself, breaking out into a trot. This day will be just perfect if I have anything to say about it. It has to, because I want to—need to—live.

Somewhere between finding a blindfold and getting to the center of town, I think I figured out why nopony is around. Without my knowing, I seem to have come across the Equestrian equivalent of a day of mourning. That’s really the only explanation I can come up with that doesn’t delve into that crazy conspiracy shit. Well, that, and it’s really damn early in the morning.

Still, that gives me more than enough time to embellish my appearance for the crowds. Crouched in a bush, it only takes a bit of unraveling of bandages and a little nip to an innocuous place on fetlock, I’ve got more than enough blood flowing to gouge out my eyes and stain my cheeks, and the blindfold for good measure. Stopping the bleeding is then as simple as licking my wounds and rebandaging it. Ponyville is in for a real show.

Peering out of the bush, I wait. It’ll do me no good to step out of the bushes blindfolded and have nopony hear my announcement if there’s nopony around. No, instead I wait until I see a good number of ponies—even a few very recognizable faces—before I decide to make my grand appearance. It’s only when I see Rainbow Dash land at a nearby market stall that I know exactly how to go about it.

Donning my bloodied blindfold, I boldly step out of my cover. Immediately the air in the marketplace has changed. Gone is the low hustle and bustle of ponies buying and selling and moving about; it doesn’t take eyesight to know that all eyes are suddenly on me. It isn’t even so much the feeling of being watched. There’s just that subtle shift in the air.

Then the hushed whispering starts. Before long, it’s no longer concerned whisper, but audible conversation. There’s a mix of shock and concern in their voices. This is of course no great surprise; I mean, if some guy showed up in the middle of the same supermarket as you, all bandaged and bloody, you’d probably freak too.

“Soren! There you are!” There’s no hoofsteps or even the sound of flight. Rainbow Dash is just there. “You look like you’ve been through Tartarus! Lyra and Bon-Bon are out of their wits looking for you. Even Twilight is worried!”

I continue staring forward, but flick my ears in her direction nonetheless. “Oh, good morning Rainbow Dash.” I try not to sound too excited. “Yes, I do believe Lyra would be worried about me, if nothing more than because I hold her life in my hooves.” Turning my head in her direction, I can’t help but let a slight smile crease my lips. “Speaking of Twilight Sparkle, I was hoping you could pass on a message to her.”

Coughing into the fetlock of my bad leg, I clear my throat. “I hereby challenge Twilight Sparkle, student of Princess Celestia and bearer of the Element of Magoc to a duel.” When I make my words heard, a shocked murmur erupts from the gathering crowd. “The duel will be a battle of wits, magic, and physique, until one competitor becomes unable to continue.” More shocked murmuring erupts from the crowd, followed by a sense of rising excitement. “Terms of victory are as follows: if I am the victor, Twilight will release her hex confining me to Ponyville, allowing me to live out the remainder of what little time I have left as myself somewhere away from it all; if Twilight wins, I submit myself to remaining peacefully in Ponyville, causing her no more trouble for as long as I remain me.”

“W-what is all this?” Rainbow Dash says, taken aback by my challenge. “Why would you want to fight Twilight?”

“The last time Twilight and I saw each other, we did not part amicably.” In spite of my apparent injury, Rainbow fails to smother a laugh as sight is mentioned. Given how things must look, it is a rather bad pun when I think about it. “Rather than let the animosity and indecisiveness fester, it would be more sensible to put all our cards on the table and duke it out, not unlike your iron pony competition with Applejack.”

Okay, so that’s probably a really bad comparison, but I stick by my words. What I’m doing is essentially challenging Twilight to a brawl; those two simply entered an athletic competition and in the end still didn’t solve who was the better athlete. “Besides, it’s my understanding that Princesses Celestia and Luna may be making an appearance here today.” This evokes a bit of a startled cough from Rainbow Dash, seemingly confirming my suspicions that the Princesses arrived during the night. That still doesn’t explain the lack of Royal Guards though... “I can think of no better way to greet royalty than with a grand show.” This last part really seems to have riled the Ponyvillians.

“Do you think you can remember all that for Twilight?” My tone is flat as I speak. “I mean, it would be rather disloyal to not give her all the details of my challenge.”

There’s an annoyed grunt from Rainbow Dash, and what sounds like a mumbled “Yeah, fine.” There’s a beating of wings and I can tell she’s gone. In the meantime, I continue standing—waiting—in the center of the market. Ponies are still standing around me, speaking excitedly among themselves. Without Rainbow Dash holding all of my attention, I can actually hear some of what is being said. Needless to say, not everypony is happy-excited. There are quite a few of them who seem angry.

It doesn’t really shock me, in all honesty. Today is only the day directly following the death of a child, and here I am acting like a deplorable dick. Of course ponies are going to be upset; I’m here turning a day of mourning into a fight. They have every right to be pissed off with me, but they should also be pissed off at not-Twilight. It’s her fault Pound died. That fake is the reason they’re all in mourning.

Still, this has to be done, not just because that impostor has to be exposed. If I sit by and do nothing, I’m doing nothing to validate my existence. If I don’t even have a reason for being, I may as well just lay down and let the brain-rewrite happen... and I’m not just going to lie down and die.

After time passes for a good while, and things calm down in the crowd, there’s a commotion. A flick of my ears in the direction of the commotion, however, tells me that it is not the arrival of Twilight Sparkle and a contingent of Royal Guards or the Princesses. It’s just two very angry ponies making their way through the crowd. Suddenly, a very bad feeling fills my stomach.

“Oh, let us through already!” a mare cries out, her voice almost vicious. “I want to meet her! I want to meet the pony so disrespectful as to start a fight when half the town is in mourning!”

Oh, this is bad, so very, very bad. I know that voice anywhere. That is unmistakably Cup Cake, and if she’s here, then the pony coming up through the crowd with her is her husband Carrot Cake. Even with my eyes bound, her voice is more than enough for my imagination to conjure images of the pudgy blue mare and her scrawny yellow husband trotting through a rapidly parting crowd.

In my sound-enhanced mind’s eye, Mr. and Mrs. Cake come to a stop mere feet from me. For the briefest moment, I imagine their disdainful look loosening into mere unease as the pair gets their first look at my battered appearance. Then, all at once, their demeanor solidifies once more into barely contained contempt.

There’s a low growl before anypony speaks. “You! What do you think you’re doing?” Mr. Cake demands, his voice full of spite. “How dare you mar this day of mourning with such petty nonsense! Don’t you know we’ve j-just lost our son!?”

Turning my head in the direction of his voice, I let a frown cross my face. “I know that too well, Mr. Cake.” There’s no way I can control the shaking my voice. “That is why I must go through with this.”

Something strikes me across the face, hard. There is no doubt that somepony has just given me the equivalent of a slap. Blood fills my mouth as my teeth cut into my cheek. “Don’t you dare!” Mrs. Cake’s shaky voice rings in my ears before she slaps me once more. “What gives you the right?”

Unmoving, I let the blood pooling in my mouth dribble down my chin. “What exactly do you know of your son’s death?” I whisper dryly, simultaneously angry and afraid. “What exactly did they tell you? Did they tell you that somepony could have saved him—stopped him from going into the Everfree—if that pony hadn’t been hexed to stay within the Ponyville boundaries?”

“W-what are you trying to say?” Mr. Cake stammers, taken aback. “What does this have to do with your petty vendetta against Ms. Sparkle?”

I can feel tears spilling from beneath the blindfold, streaking my cheeks with bloodied tears. “I’m trying to say that I could have saved your son!” My voice trembles as I say this. “I was right there! I almost caught him before he ran into the Everfree, but no, right when I could have caught him in my hooves, I was teleported away, because I got too far from town!

“Your foal died because Twilight Sparkle put that damnable hex on me! He died because she wouldn't fucking listen to me!” I shout, now sobbing. There’s an outcry from the crowd at this accusation. Even the Cakes gasp. I feel sick to my stomach, and it’s only an empty stomach that keeps me from vomiting everywhere. “If I don’t do this, the guilt will kill me long before this stupid unicorn brain back-up finishes overwriting my very identity!”

Another hoof strikes me across the face, much stronger this time. Again, I make no movement to defend myself. “So y-you’re telling us you’re sullying this day just so you might salve your besotted soul?” Mrs. Cake is incredulous with rage, but there’s something else just barely tinging her voice... pity. For a quick moment, I’m afraid I’m about to be struck again. There’s a loud sigh, and the sound of a pony walking away from me. “Come along dear... Pumpkin must be absolutely miserable if we’ve been gone this long. Let us leave this foolish unicorn to her foolish endeavors.”

Unbelievably, the two simply walk away, leaving me once more standing in the center of town, surrounded by gawking locals. After that encounter with the Cakes, I’m particularly shaken, and not just physically. Am I right in doing this? Am I just plain mad? Could I have simply been mistaken about Twilight? What if she could have listened to reason? All at once, my resolve for this duel crumbles.

Not long after the Cakes leave, the crowd begins buzzing with conversation about what just happened. They all seem very mixed. On one very understandable part, I’m the topic of some rather vilifying discussion. Given what I’m doing, that’s to be expected. Surprisingly, though, there are also a few ponies of the opinion that Twilight isn’t right; mentioning her bewitched doll and the altered parasprites. One thing that seems consistent among the group is the raised interest in the duel.

Suddenly, I’m not so sure about this fight. I was so confident that what I am doing is the right thing, but what if I am just a foolish mare with a petty vendetta? It feels like I’m fighting for all the wrong reasons now; is this really about proving Twilight is some sort of impostor and refusing the possibility that she’s just not as infallible as I thought her to be? God, when I look at it like that, I really do seem a bit crazy, don’t I? But I can’t be crazy! Crazy people don’t think they’re crazy!

“Soren. I’m here,” a cruel voice cuts into my my musing. “What is all this about... and what happened to you?”

Author's Notes:

This chapter has been a bit of a roller-coaster for Soren. The focus of the chapter was the build-up of his resolve to take on Twilight, only for it to shatter at the hooves of the Cakes. In spite of this, will he continue what he's doing and fight Twilight? Or is he once again going to run away.

I was considering having the Twilight confrontation in this chapter, but as I began writing, the Cake scene just sorta happened. For the sake of pacing, and tantalizing all of my readers, I felt it better to work tat into the next chapter.

That being said, the next two chapters, though they will probably be shorter, are going to be very important.

Cheers.

Re-edited 12 July 2017