A choked out wheeze leaves Harriet's throat as the line of trees finally gives way to open country and she stops dead in her tracks. Thirteen turns her head for any signs of danger and, spotting nothing imminent, looks at Harriet who is just staring ahead with an expression of dawning horror.
"What's wrong? I can't see anything," she asks, adding. "The village looks fine."
"The territory..." Harriet breathes out, "was over a day away from Windy when I left."
Thirteen blinks as she stares at the small collection of houses and lights set at the base of a large hill that's easily within an hour of casual walking.
"It spread that far over half a year?"
"Yeah," Harriet's head spins, "We have to move and not only because I think Magpie's breathing is getting slower. I hope the doc is still working."
They've been walking without sleep since the encounter with the griffons for fear that Magpie might not make it. Thirteen is limping with Three on her back, not sure herself where she's getting the love to keep going. Harriet is physically fine, much more worried about her cargo and now about the state of affairs in Windy.
They head forward as quickly as they can and in some ten minutes they notice a deep scar in the ground filled with ash, seemingly going on forever to both north and south, separating Windy from the encroaching forest.
"What's this?" asks Thirteen as they cross the ashen groove. Harriet shrugs.
"No idea. It wasn't here before. My best guess is that they're trying to build some kind of barrier against corruption."
"Oh, does it work?"
"No, burning the surface doesn't do anything. They just don't have the experience from Equestria we do."
Soon, they're walking through the empty streets of Windy with Harriet in the lead. No one is outside but on occasion they do hear movement behind the windows they pass by.
"Do you think we'll have a mob with torches and pitchforks on our tails soon?" whispers Thirteen as she hears the screeching of a wardrobe being moved across the floor.
"Nah," Harriet shakes her head which makes Thirteen breathe out in relief. At least until she adds with a smirk to herself, "There's not enough griffons in Windy for a proper mob."
Thirteen grumbles something Harriet can't decipher.
Not wishing to tease Thirteen any more, Harriet leads the way further and they soon stop at the door of one of the bigger houses in the village.
"Is this the place?" asks Thirteen, "I can't see any markings or writing."
"This is a tiny village. Everyone who lives here knows everyone else. There's no need for any banners or stuff. The only marked places here are the tavern and the general store and that's only for the caravans."
Harriet takes a deep breath.
I can't hesitate or be afraid. I don't have a choice. If I mess around or fail, Magpie might die and I sure am not explaining that to Gem when she arrives.
She knocks on the door.
"Doctor Fairfeather?" she calls out, "Are you there? We have a badly wounded griffon here."
Pawsteps come from the inside, followed by clicking of locks.
"Damn it, more-?" the griffon peeks out and instantly slams the door shut, or at least tries to because Harriet was anticipating it and shoved her foreleg through the door immediately.
"Doctor, please don't scream. We need help!" Harriet speaks out as quickly as she can but pushes through the door despite the elderly griffon's resistance.
She was here many times over when her mom was trying to figure out if there was something wrong with a dragon-pony hybrid whenever Harriet's temperature went up or other unidentifiable stuff came over her. Never, though, had Fairfeather's living room been converted to an emergency room and filled with eight griffons in various states of consciousness, the livelier ones gasping in horror at Harriet's arrival.
"What do you think you're doing?!" objects Fairfeather as Harriet lowers herself and her tentacles gently put Magpie on the floor, "Who are you?!"
Harriet looks the doctor in the eyes.
"Do you know any other dragonpony, doctor?"
"Harriet?!" Fairfeather's beak drops.
"In the tainted flesh," she smiles, tearing up a little, "I would love nothing more than to have a chat about how things are," she nods to the wounded griffons around, "but I think I have a pretty clear idea. Besides, Magpie needs help. We've been going through the night to get him here after we were attacked by wild Corrupted. I think it's something internal as well as a concussion."
Fairfeather's training and experience take over as he ignores the presence of two changelings and begins poking Magpie in various places.
"Can you help Three too?" blurts out Thirteen while angling herself to show Three's foreleg covered in crusted blood.
"I don't know anything about changeling biology," replies Fairfeather immediately after a brief glance.
"C-Can we help?" Thirteen speaks out quietly.
"Unless you're a trained and certified surgeon you can leave and stop scaring my other patients. Most of them are here because of Corrupted and your presence really isn't helping," replies Fairfeather without looking at her.
"I noticed the territory has spread so far-" Harriet begins asking and is interrupted immediately.
"Harriet, what did I just say?"
"Sorry, doctor," Harriet grabs Thirteen by one shoulder and with a gentle push leads her out of the house, "Come. We'll give Three a hug or two and he'll be good as new."
"...allthehugs..." mutters Three, his forelegs twitching.
Outside, Harriet takes a deep breath of the chilly air.
"Do we go visit your dad now?" asks Thirteen.
"I..." Harriet puffs out her chest and deflates the next instant, "After Fairfeather's reaction I think I need… I need… I need a moment," she breathes out, "Let's visit Raymond first."
"Who's that?" Thirteen follows as Harriet starts walking down the street.
"The owner of the local tavern. I used to work there as a waitress," replies Harriet, "He's always been nice to me even when I was small and strange."
"Well, now you're big and strange, so it's only a size change," Thirteen sticks her tongue out at her. Her attempt at cheering nervous Harriet up fails as she only sighs and says:
"We can only hope."
Like in most tiny villages, the tavern is in the middle and serves as a gathering place as well as a cultural exchange center with any foreign guests who might be passing by. It's a big, two-story building with a bar on the bottom, rooms for guests upstairs, and a griffon firing several bullets her way as soon as she enters through the main door.
The bullets that don't bounce off of her chest scales simply plop limply on the floor after hitting her corrupted flesh.
"I should be getting used to this, shouldn't it?" Harriet smirks apologetically at the griffons around who clearly were chatting and listening to the radio before jumping behind overturned furniture at her arrival.
"Harriet?!" the griffon lowers the pistol.
"Raymond," her smirk grows into a smile as she sheepishly approaches him, "Long time no see."
"I… I thought I wouldn't see you again!" he rushes towards her and pulls her into a hug. Well, tries to but with her strength and size he only pulls himself towards her, "When your dad came back and asked where you went I told him I tried to stop you and-"
"Shhh. It doesn't matter anymore," Harriet returns the hug, "It was a long trip but I'm back."
"Have you seen Hazaren yet?" asks Raymond.
"No, we just arrived. One of my friends got badly hurt by Corrupted on the way here so we brought him to doctor Fairfeather. I wanted to go home but..." she pauses, "But then I remembered I'm like this now."
Raymond breaks the hug and grabs Harriet's cheeks.
"Gathering courage, eh? Do you need some liquid help?" he asks, "Does it even still work on you?"
Harriet scratches her head, blushing a little.
"I'm not sure but right now I could use all the help I can get."
"And what about… them?" he asks, his friendly expression hardening as he looks at Thirteen and Three.
"Umm, we don't drink, really," squeaks Thirteen, taking a step back when faced with the griffon's much colder stare.
"I don't think that's what Raymond meant," Harriet chuckles, "They're my friends, or technically the family of one of my friends who saved me in Equestria."
"Then you've got some stories to tell," the griffon winks at her and smiles again.
"You have no idea," Harriet pauses, "Wait, do you even have drinks to spare?"
"Well, nothing too alcoholic," he shakes his head, "I gave all I had to Fairfeather as disinfectant and anesthetic for the wounded. We've been attacked by a Corrupted three days ago and it didn't go well."
"Dad didn't help you?"
"We caught the creature prowling through the streets and needed to get rid of it quickly. There was no time to send anyone to Hazaren."
"I saw the wounded at Fairfeather's. It was pretty bad."
"Yeah, we're not equipped to deal with Corrupted at all. We have few swords passed down from father to son, pitchforks, and several guns for the whole town. Heck, I'm the most fit fighter here and I'm almost sixty. The guys are strong but it doesn't mean much when compared to one of them."
"One of us," Harriet sighs.
"Them, Harriet," Raymond puts a glass in front of her, "Them."
She downs the drink in one gulp, shivering at the burning sweetness as it goes down her throat. After a deep breath, she opens her eyes.
"I think I'm going to need another one… or another ten."
"Come now," Raymond pours her another drink, "Just take it easy. Hazaren might be a dragon but he nearly bit my head off when I told him I didn't tie you down in my cellar and wait for him to come back. I think Red Wind's death made him realize that you were his only family now. Speaking of your mother… did you…?"
"Catch her murderers and make them pay?" Harriet finishes the question, "Yes, I did. With some help from her sister," she glances at Thirteen currently pondering how to get on a bar stool without dropping Three, "I'm keeping these two safe until she comes for them. We're kinda… being hunted in Equestria."
"All the way there, eh? Well, you're welcome here and your friends as well, even though they're… you know."
"Changelings," Thirteen pouts at him.
"Thirteen, chill," says Harriet, "Trust me, this is the warmest welcome you're going to get in the Empire this far from Equestria."
"I don't really care but do you think he deserves to be treated like this?" Thirteen finally decides to dislodge Three from her back and puts him on the bar stool where he curls up into a ball.
Harriet pauses before looking back at Raymond and saying:
"I gotta agree with Thirteen on this one. Three's a little… special."
"Not gonna eat my brain and make me murder my family?" one of the griffons around calls out.
"Hey!" Thirteen scowls their way. Before she can say anything else, Harriet raises her foreleg and stops her.
"Mister Yassir, I'm pretty sure there was a time when you southerners would receive the exact same greeting around here. And no, Three doesn't eat brains, Thirteen doesn't eat brains. As far as I know, he subsists on hugs, smiles, rainbows, and pure happiness, don't ask me how it works. If you don't believe me, he also pukes candy you can try. Tastes like mint and lime. I'd like to see you do that."
"I'm harmless too!" squeaks Thirteen.
"Likely story," comes from somewhere but before either of them can react, Raymond clears his throat and says:
"Girls, we have enough trouble these days. No need to make it worse. You won't talk griffons out of lifetimes of fear and hate. To be honest, I'm not kicking you out only because Harriet is like a daughter to me."
"Awww," Harriet lowers her head, blushing, "Thanks."
"You should still go visit your real dad as soon as you can," Raymond looks at her meaningfully, "One more for the road?" he taps a talon against Harriet's glass.
She shakes her head.
"I don't think it's working. You know," she looks around. "when we passed through a tavern in Wilbur's Pass it looked much worse than here. No food and barely anything to drink."
"Chineighese ponies have been sending us some supplies. They're big on natural magic so they can grow a little food even without the sun. Last caravan leader I talked to, though, said the cold was becoming a huge problem. I feel for the folk in Wilbur's but with the Corrupted territory spreading we can't share even what little we have. Aren't they getting disaster aid? I heard on the radio that the Legion is rationing supplies all over the Empire."
"Supposedly, Irongrips aren't sending help to Redtalon lands."
"Are you bloody serious?!" Raymond facetalons, "I thought we weren't getting anything from the heartland because of the corruption, not because of damn politics."
"Didn't anyone arrive from Bloodstone?"
"There are no Redtalons anymore, Harriet. Bloodstone is under the rule of an Irongrip regent and old Altberg died several months ago. I heard rumors about poison but the official story is old age. A lot of residents from surrounding cities and villages moved to Bloodstone when the sun disappeared. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
"Long story, Raymond."
"Wait, I was joking. You do know?"
"We'll have time to talk about it later. Besides, if my dad doesn't take my new… existence too well I might need a place to stay."
"You're painting a really dark picture for yourself."
"I got shotgunned in the chest in Wilbur's and I think you still have few bullets to sweep off of the floor, Raymond. Now I'm about to surprise a red dragon," she sighs and gets off of the stool, "Do you mind if these two stay here for now? I'll come pick them up later if I'm not a charred lump."
"We can come with you," says Thirteen quickly, not eager to stay in a tavern full of griffons, "For, you know, moral support or something."
"No offense, Thirteen," Harriet shakes her head, "but this isn't for you nor Three."
"Give her some time alone with her dad," says Raymond as Harriet walks outside, "You can stay here for now. I already let a Corrupted in and you look more pony-like than any changeling I saw during my time in the Legion," he nods to Three, "Is the mane fake like this one's beard? Is it male or female?"
"Technically he naturally doesn't have the parts to be either but Three's a he."
"Hee hee," Three giggles and sticks his tongue out.
"What's wrong with him?"
"Delirious from hunger and exhaustion, that's all. We both are at the end of our rope. It was a rough trip."
"Sooo if you don't eat brains..." Raymond looks at Thirteen with a puzzled expression.
"We need someone to love or like us," explains Thirteen, "I'm not too familiar with changeling history but I think the usual method was to replace someone beloved and feed off of others' love for them. My dad is against it and says we have to create our place in the world as ourselves. Oh, and we can use lust too but it's not great for me or Three."
"You picked a rough place to start for any of those," Raymond snorts.
"Long story short, it wasn't exactly a choice," Thirteen smiles, "We're supposed to stay here in Windy with Miss Harriet and wait for my sister so we'll have time to talk once we get to know each other."
She pauses for a moment.
"Come to think of it, do you have a good blacksmith around?" she taps her hoof against the counter, "One who knows their way around electronics."
"Not really, few guys can repair farming equipment but we don't have the precision gear for any delicate work. Heck, if the radio ever stops working we'll be cut off from the Imperial heartland completely."
"Hmmm..." Thirteen pokes Three whose tongue just lolls out of his mouth, "Alright, maybe later," she looks at Raymond, "Mind if we sit down in the corner and just listen to the radio?"
Raymond taps the counter.
"Stay here. That way I can make sure no one bothers you."
"Alright," Thirteen lays her head on the counter, closes her eyes, and slowly breathes out, "Thank you."
"I can turn the radio off if you want to take a nap. Most of the griffons here are barely listening to the music anyway."
"Do you have news broadcasts here on the surface too?" asks Thirteen, "I like talk radio the most. Plays and books are the best."
"I think there are some late show reruns. Jokes about ongoing politics, how about that?"
"Sounds fun. Thank you."
After all, it's difficult to despise two defenseless changelings who closed their eyes in enemy territory.
Where did that calculating thought come from?
Harriet stops in front of the cave atop the hill overlooking Windy. The small door next to it leading to her family's house carved into the hill is locked so she can't even take a break to compose herself inside her home.
"Guess there's no delaying it anymore," she mumbles to herself and heads into the cave.
The short cave opens into a large cavern lit only by the faint glimmer of magic cast by something in the pile of gold, gems, and artefacts on which a huge red dragon is sleeping, breathing slowly.
Harriet approaches with glacial slowness, torn between waking her dad up to find out what's going to happen and savoring the moment of seeing him again after so long.
A mistake.
For such a massive creature, Hazaren raises his foreleg with shocking speed and slams it down on Harriet with the full force of an ancient dragon, only one eye lazily open as if dealing with an annoying insect.
He opens his other eye when he realizes his foreleg hasn't touched the rocky ground.
Harriet is squatted on her hind legs, her massive glutes giving the rest of her Corrupted Protector body the upwards push successfully forcing Hazaren to back off and rise to his full height, spread his wings, and open his mouth.
"It's me, d-" the air around Harriet evaporates under the onslaught of dragon fire.
As she holds her breath, Harriet feels the stone floor crack and melt under the nearly liquid heat washing over her. As far as she knows, only two things are decently effective against Corrupted - fire and acid. And now, now she knows that the mortal races must be praying that no branch of Corrupted ever gains Harriet's fireproof genes.
When the fire breath abates, Harriet remains standing in the pool of molten rock, staring straight into the slit golden eyes of Hazaren.
"DAD, IT'S ME!" she screams from the top of her lungs, "HARRIET! I KNOW I WASN'T SUPPOSED TO LEAVE ON MY OWN, I'M SORRY! BUT I AVENGED MOM, AND-"
Looking straight up, she doesn't notice Hazaren's foreleg grabbing her from the side and bringing her up to the dragon's muzzle.
"Harriet...?" he breathes out in amazement, "Is that really you?"
He didn't cry when she was born. He didn't cry when she was young and going through illnesses no doctor within reachable distance knew. He didn't cry after he returned and heard that she left to chase Red Wind's killers.
"Harriet!" the streak ends as huge tears splash against the gold of his hoard.
Harriet can't say anything without devolving into incoherent blubbering herself so she just gives her dad's muzzle a full body hug, tentacles and everything, sobbing out of pure happiness.
"I'm home."
[Monthly summary report for Twilight Sparkle]
Your Majesty,
I've compiled the monthly report. Overall, the situation is steadily getting worse but this month we seem to have avoided any catastrophic issues. As always, full original reports are in the EIS archives.
1 - Food situation
With the gradual production of the mechanized plants we've managed to increase food production to a level where Vanhoover, Pine Hills, and the new Las Pegasus encampment are capable of fully sustaining their population. Ponyville is still going to take approximately three weeks and Canterlot is expected to take a similar amount of time. Manehattan, Crystal Empire, and the refugee camps in the south are in the worst shape, the first two due to large populations and the camps due to lacking infrastructure. Transporting fully assembled mechanized plants is beyond our capabilities. However, as soon as Ponyville is completely self-sufficient, the entirety of its manufacturing capabilities will be set on supplying the south.
All in all, we're a lot better off than we were a month ago.
2 - Heat situation
Here's where all our success breaks down. Unicorns all over Equestria are doing all they can to keep heaters charged and the fact that we're able to feed them now has definitely helped but we've counted first cases of freezing to death in the elderly population. My suggestion is to move those without families out of their homes into some shared establishments where we'll be able to take better care of them.
In the last report, I calculated that the surface would become uninhabitable within half a year. That assessment included the lack of ability to produce food as well. Considering the success regarding that, I'm updating my previous predictions about the surface turning uninhabitable from sheer cold to seven months. If there's a good part about anything, it's that there's very little snow despite the cold. Without the sun to evaporate water during the day the air is simply very dry and the ground frozen with only light dusting of snow.
3 - Internal security
With the capture of subject AAA34, we're in the clear regarding internal threats. There's little to no unrest among the citizens anymore since everypony is focused on the imminent threat of cold. Conspiracy theories have died off when faced with the reality of the environment becoming increasingly hostile and the new supply of food is preventing trouble regarding stealing from each other. My suggestion is to seize personal power and heat sources and use the Guard branches to oversee daily rationing. That way it will be easier to avoid stealing or hoarding of energy crystals which seems to be the incoming problem.
Other than that, there's growing general irritation among unicorn royalty about having to eat the same artificial sludge as the commoners but nothing serious so far. As long as no one sees princess Celestia eat any of her emergency cake reserve, we should be in the clear.
4 - Foreign affairs
Zebrica:
I'm not sure where to even start with this one. The death toll in Zebrica is rising each day due to our inability to provide food or heat. Only several biomass power plants along the entire northern coast are running and due to the increasing cold, they're slowly losing the ability to draw power from rivers and dams either. The only good thing on the horizon regarding this is that we're slowly producing the artificial farms and supplying the states of the Northern Coalition.
Now, the EIS expedition you sent out based on my last report has confirmed the rumors that there's someone rebuilding the south of Zebrica. Their first report speaks of technology far beyond anything we or the griffons possess. However, so far the report denied any changeling involvement which makes me think there must be some third party having access to Silversmith technology. It's not the Silver Sun either, as they've relocated into the Griffon Empire and the EIS attempts at finding their new base have all failed. Now, the problem is that they seem to be hostile to the EIS agents and have denied them access to the city. We don't have the luxury to send any bigger expedition to the mysterious faction so we'll have to wait for further details from general observation.
The Griffon Empire:
With the full recovery of Emperor Cassius Irongrip, the situation within the Imperial north and the heartland seems to have stabilized. However, the unrest in the southern states keeps growing due to famine. Nomad raids have become increasingly severe as they search for granaries to plunder and some intelligence we received states that states might be declaring wars for resources. The Emperor's recovery might put an end to that but the Empire is massive and it might take weeks for any action of the GIL to make a difference.
Rift:
No information from Rift, Your Majesty. The minotaurs have turned princess Cadance's peace delegation away.
The Dragon Lands:
Dragon Lord Ember declared that all dragons are to stay on the island and use its volcanic nature to survive the cold. The only effect I can estimate is that it will eliminate their next breeding season due to the eggs needing both heat and fresh air.
5 - Escaped changelings:
As far as we know, they've escaped to the Griffon Empire. There are several EIS agents looking for them as per your orders but they've been told not to engage if they find them. So far no luck.
6 - The Project
With the help of redacted, we've started building a facility called 'the particle accelerator' in the site deep under the old mines under Canterlot mountain due to space requirements. Queen Chrysalis' drones are proving a great help at digging out the area. The presumed energy requirements for the accelerator, however, exceed anything within our disposal so our best bet is that the tectonic generator plans divulged by redacted will lead to a device capable of powering it.
7 - Minor news
Not much, really. I've had several 'encounters' with Bucket regarding our messages being sent via the Silver Sun network. No matter what, I can't secure our communication against him reading it. However, I am now capable of figuring out if a message has been read or changed. I can't tell how long that is going to last or if Bucket is aware of this, he's so much more advanced than I am it's downright silly. Still, examining his methods is teaching me much in a very short time.
Bookworm.
[End of report]
