Family of Chaos (5) (Patreon)

Motherlode was kind to her that night. Hot soup filled her belly, and the other drinks dulled the ache against her soul. Maybe it was the remoteness—so far from the reach of Equestria's looming history, or Discord's sightless stone eyes. Maybe it was the cold, prompting everypony to keep the windows shut tight and the fire roaring all night long.

She even made a few new friends with the locals, in that casual way that new ponies sharing a few drinks on a cold night sometimes could. A mare named Pyrite spoke of her career in the Iridium Mines, and the many fruitless claims she had taken.

"Made more bits doing laundry than I have under the earth," she said. "Everypony who's been here as long as I have all either struck it rich or gave up by now. But here I am, stubborn."

"Maybe you just... need to try something you wouldn't," Hurricane said. "If the old way never works, find a new one! Think of whatever you would do to find what you're looking for and do the exact opposite."

Pyrite refilled her ale, laughing loudly at the suggestion. "Sure, sure. I guess that would mean... going down into one of the communal tunnels, picking a direction, and see if I can dig up something new. No study, no planning, just throw it to chance!"

Hurricane nodded along. "Sounds like you're already not finding anything. What's the worst that could happen, you find even less?"

The mare grinned back. “You may have a point! If every other strategy has failed me, perhaps any change is for the better.”

They continued together for some minutes before the warmth and the meal finally worked their duty relaxing her, and Hurricane said her farewells.

Her room offered few comforts—a hard bed, threadbare linens, and the constant whistling of the wind through distant peaks. She found it all strangely soothing.

Until she finally got to sleep. Comfort soon fled, replaced with the same dream vision that tormented her every night. She galloped, she flew, she ran. She dodged through trees, glancing over her shoulder with the certainty of the pursued.

Her magic was no longer helpful to her—instead it kept the tracker on her tail. Faster and faster, she went, keeping low to the trees. She sheltered beneath dark canopies, where the chaotic magic of the Everfree kept watchful pony eyes from ever falling on her. Until she had nowhere left to hide but the cave, and she crawled inside.

They won't find me here. They can't. She built no fire, sheltering in the depths beside a colony of bats. The nocturnal mammals didn't seem to mind her presence, though in her panic she made a very poor imitation of their kind. Then they flew out in search of prey, leaving her alone.

Until the Alicorns came. They arrived at her doorstep, still radiant with magic. That light hurt, like holding herself far too close to a fire. Where they walked, possibility collapsed into a single path. Infinity became one, just as the path before her narrowed to a single opening.

"There are no lives at your hooves," said Luna. "But you were still party to the conquest. You could unleash the same terror on Equestria."

She pled with them. She groveled and begged, overflowing with desperation. Anything to get them to turn that awful weapon away and spare her. "Please! You have to believe me!"

"We do," Celestia said. "This is the mercy we offer."

Then came the pain, burning her to nothing, torture that no simple dream could possibly contain.

She woke to awful laughter, ringing in her ears long after she got up and left the bed behind. The eyes even followed her into the bathroom, staring back at her from every mirror. Only when they'd finally left her, and the laughter fell silent did she dare to leave the rented room behind, and hurried downstairs.

"Here." She passed the borrowed keys over the counter. "Thanks for everything."

The old stallion watched her, expression intent. "You sure you're prepared to fly out so soon? I saw how much you had last night. Might want to wait a few. Can't say I've flown myself, but I can't imagine a hangover is much fun when you're airborne."

She could argue the point—it wasn't like the old unicorn could do much to stop her.

But Hurricane wasn't in any hurry to get back to the factory. Back in her office, in the familiar walls of her home, closing in a little tighter with every passing day.

"If that's a way to get me to buy breakfast, fine. I'm sold." She passed a few bits over the counter, then took a simple breakfast sandwich outside to eat in the fresh air.

She'd barely taken a single bite when she heard the cheering echoing down the mountain. She sat up, turning in time to see Pyrite leading a dense group of other miners, holding a huge nugget of something dark silver in her mouth.

She got a few steps closer before Hurricane could overhear what the ponies were saying, though she could already guess their excitement from their faces. "Biggest deposit we ever found! What a claim, Pyrite! Remember us when you're retiring with all those bits in Canterlot!"

She waved energetically to Hurricane as she passed, finally tossing the lump of metal over her shoulder into her saddlebags. "Hurricane!" She gestured energetically at the pack, spraying little bits of dirt through the air. "Thanks for the advice! Exact opposite of what I was gonna do... can't believe I never thought of that!" Then she was gone, vanished up the road to the clearly marked "Mine Headquarters."

Hurricane watched the crowd of excited miners go. She took a few nibbles from the sandwich, before finally taking off.

She made reasonably good time back to Wingapore. The last thing Hurricane needed was for the settlement to drift too far away from her and end up chasing it from town to town for half the rainy season.

Granted, that would be a more exciting way to live. Away from the spreadsheets and timetables, meeting new and interesting ponies with each place she stopped. Maybe there was an argument for going back on the road for a few years.

Eventually she saw the familiar clouds on the horizon. She tucked her wings in close, cutting through the air with all the speed she could muster. When Hurricane Force put her mind to it, she was among the fastest pegasi in the air—hence the name.

Instead of flying on to drop off her haul, Hurricane went straight in to work, landing on her waiting balcony. Frostline was just inside, sitting comfortably at Hurricane's desk.

Her papers scattered as Hurricane entered, lifting into the air in a random cloud. "Sorry, sorry!" She shoved the door closed behind her, stifling the wind.

Her secretary whimpered, catching the quill pen in her mouth before it could scribble all over her spreadsheets. "Welcome back," she said, fighting exasperation. "Skies were clear of wind today. Guess you brought it back from Canterlot." She caught a few pages in her wing, but most scattered around her, landing on the floor in a disordered mess.

A mess that happened to also form a familiar shape. Hadn't she seen that recently?

If she had, Hurricane fought back the impression with all the determination she had. She shoved the remaining pages together into a clump, dumping them on the table in front of Frostline. "How's the spring rain going?"

"Monsoony," Frostline said. "Looks like some great crops this year. We have a surplus of half a cubic meter on our designated farmland."

Hurricane nodded along, settling her saddlebags up on a hook. They were still heavy with gold, making the wall sag a little with the weight. She ignored it. "No more... disasters?"

"Quiet as the cumulus up here," Frostline said. She nudged her chair aside. "How was your... sudden trip? Did you find what you were looking for in Canterlot?"

She shook her head once. Of all the ponies in her life to lie to, this one deserved better. "Not even close. But I looked at all the places my answer could be. No point hunting ball lightning."

The mare patted her sympathetically on the shoulder. "Well, I hope the time away from work was at least... refreshing. I was getting started on the tax paperwork, since I know how much you love that. Still have the last two quarters to go through."

"That sounds... thrilling." Hurricane took a few steps to the side, selecting her old hard-hat from a hook. "You know what? I'll take a tour of the floor. I wanted to do some extra inspections anyway, see how the new equipment is doing. Why don't you hold down the fort up here? I'll... sign it off when you're done."

Frostline settled down in her seat without a second glance. "I guess I could. Wouldn't mind a little more intellectual stimulation." She flicked through the messy sheets, arranging them in a series of smaller piles. No doubt they made sense to an accountant. "Floors one and two are engaged. Third is down for spring overhaul. Probably not worth your time."

Their third floor made the interesting weather, stuff most small factories had to outsource to Cloudsdale. Their lightning wasn't as flashy and their thunder wasn't as loud, but they didn't charge Cloudsdale rates for it either. "Sounds good. Thanks for all the good work."

She stopped in the hallway, glancing back. "You're a great manager, Frostline. I hope you know that. I couldn't keep this place running without you."

The old mare clicked her tongue once. Dismissive or not, there was clear satisfaction on her face.

Inspecting the factory wasn't much of a job, really. Hurricane couldn't sign safety permits for her own factory, Equestria had ponies for that. So long as they were doing their job, she had very little to offer that wouldn't just get in the way.

Even so, there was something different about the way ponies worked when she was on the floor. They grew more purposeful, more precise. Even if they didn't say it openly, she could hear them whispering to each other when she walked away. "Did she like the clouds?" "Density looked good." "I really need this job."

Their fears were in vain, of course. Hurricane wasn't there to micromanage, or to pick apart their small mistakes. So long as the rain made it out on time, let the workers manage the floor the way they liked.

Finally, she reached the third floor, blocked by a few lines of yellow and black ribbon, along with a little printed sign. "Overhaul in progress, see Frostline for temporary shift assignments."

She ducked underneath, then slipped around the corner and out onto the heavy walkway.

The production floor was a few hundred meters long, with several large ducts and pipes all connected to a central glass chamber. Magic swirled within, along with little bolts of energy. Even while not in operation, the Cumulonimbus Dynamo hummed with captive power, illuminating the dark room with steady flashes.

"Pride of the factory," Hurricane whispered, making her way to the railing near the central controls. She leaned down over the quiet space, allowing herself a faint, satisfied smile.

Why would she ever want to leave this life? For the first time in her memory, she'd finally stayed in place long enough to build something. Who was a stupid old statue to force her out of her home? He couldn't hurt her here!

She walked slowly around the lightning dynamo. Cloudsdale's designs were all proprietary—they had to come up with this on their own. There wasn't another quite like it in all Equestria. "Maybe she's right," Hurricane whispered to the empty room. "The dreams will stop. I have a life here. Nothing has to change."

Nopony was there to hear her. Yet somehow, the machine did anyway.

She felt it before she saw it—all her fur lifting at the same moment, her mane standing on end. Lightning condensed near the central projector, a thousand little bolts all gathering in the same place without any apparent cause.

Then it exploded outward, rocking through the building like a bomb. Clouds vaporized, equipment shattered, lights exploded—and all of it came raining down around her.

Hurricane screamed; her terror lost in the maelstrom.