The Should-Have-Been King

by defender2222

Rating: teen
Tags: Drama, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Mystery, Dark, Trixie, Adventure, Twilight Sparkle, Main 6
Length: 17051

The Abstract Saga continues! When an ancient threat returns from the realm of the dead Twilight, Faith, and their allies must work together to discover the lost origins of Equestria in order to stop the new threat. Those who don't learn from history

Everyone has heard the legend of Hearth's Warming Eve. It is the tale of how the three pony tribes discovered a glorious uncharted land and managed to overcome their own mistrust to create a new country: Equestria. It is a story told for centuries, for thousands of years. Every pony, from the oldest pegasus to the youngest unicorn can recite it.

It... is a lie.

For before the ponies... there were others.

Now the sins of Princess Platinum, Commander Hurricane, and Chancellor Puddinghead will be revealed. The time for harmony is over and the one who calls himself The Should-Have-Been King has come to reclaim Equestria for him and his kind. Only Twilight Sparkle and her friends, the abstract Faith, Captain Trixie, the princesses, and the resurrected sea king Lord Tydal can stop the genocide of the pony race. To do so they must uncover the lost history of Equestria... but doing so will unearth secrets that should never be told. Knowledge that should never be spoken. For there are some truths that should never be unearthed.

But those who fail to learn from history...

From defender2222, the author of 'The Many Secret Origins of Scootaloo', 'Faith and Doubt', and 'The Abundance' comes the long awaited third volume of the Abstract Saga.

Published 2017-07-25 15:40:06 UTC
Last updated 2017-09-27 12:35:58 UTC

Forgotten Things

“The world has changed… much that was once known is lost. For none now live who remember it.”

-Galadriel

Manehattan

They were staring at him.

Tydal wasn’t surprised by this. After all, he wasn’t a sight that was common at all. He towered over them, making even the largest of them look like kids. ‘Foals’ his mind whispered, remembering their words, their names and titles. He’d tried to learn much about the cultures of the other races but at times it was all too easy to forget it all. He had his own kingdom to run and such small things as remembering that ponies called females ‘mares’ were lost on him at times. It was why he had ambassadors and experts beside him during official meetings.

But even without his great size, both in height and strength, he would have draw their attention. His emerald scales ran along his flank where short fur would have been on them, none of the strange marks (‘Cutie marks… that Is what they called them… why I have no bloody idea as some of them aren’t cute at all’) to be seen. Their tails were long strands of hair which, at most, could be flicked at something that annoyed them but only if one had practice. His tail was made of muscle and scale, ending in the natural fan blade of his kind. If he swished at someone they would end up dead. It was known, or had been known, that to try and sneak up on a capricorn was to ask for death. Not that facing them head-on was any safer. When a pony smiled one might merely grin back or blush if they were rather attractive. When a capricorn flashed their razor sharp teeth it was usually a warning: here is death and it can come for you at any moment. His kind had been built to survive the harsh depths of the ocean and the wilds of the forested lands.

And yet here he was, walking down the strange avenues of what ponies now called home.

He slowly made his way along the hard streets, his hooves clicking against the ground. Some gawked and saw him little more as something to stare at, like a traveling freakshow that had pulled into some dusty town offering the simple folk a chance to stare at the oddity at the cost of a few bits. Others feared him, pushing their foals behind them and praying to their princesses for protection. A part of him, small and bitter, salivated at the taste of their fear and welcomed it; if they could not love him and cheer his name let the masses fear him and cower. It was their tribute to him and as the apex predator he savored it like a fine wine. But where youth might have led others to abuse such feelings his many long years left him tapping down such desires with a rumbling sigh.

A few turned their fear to anger and stepped forward, ready to challenge him. For what crime brought their hatred he did not know nor did he care. He merely watched as they stomped the ground and snorted hard, deep rumbles issuing through their throats. The old capricorn merely turned and stared at them, his dark slit eyes, so different from their own, narrowing slightly as he rolled his shoulders. It might have been amusing to another to see little ponies be so bold when, to him, they just looked so… small. Delicate. Like little bunny rabbits trying to fight a lion.

“Do it,” he whispered, his voice like thunder even in the quietest of tones, rumbling like a storm just beyond a sea’s horizon. It wasn’t a threat. It wasn’t a challenge. It may have been a hopeful cry, begging one to step forward and actually do what they dreamed of. To try for the brass ring, to claim their place in the annuls of history. He could respect that, understand that. Such actions would make sense for the King thrust into this strange time. He looked at each of them and wondered if he would find in their huddled masses one that was willing to actually challenge him. One worthy to place their name alongside those from the Lost Age.

And then, as if drawn by some invisible force, they retreated into the crowd. The safety of the herd. He read it on their faces, the half-made threats that they themselves didn’t believe. ‘You’re lucky’. ‘I’ll let you live this time’. ‘Next time will be different’.

The God of the Sea lowered his head and sighed. “Cowards,” he muttered, and though none of them would have been able to explain it, had they been pressed, every pony that heard it suddenly felt a welling of great shame.

They all still looked at him, waiting. They would not challenge him and they wouldn’t flee from him. All they would do was wait, forcing him to keep making the next move, over and over again. His jaw worked and from the corner of his eye he could see them flinching. They were skittish, like birds that spotted a bit of bread next to a sleep cat. He shut his eyes for a moment, gathering himself, before he began to walk again. Their stares never left him though, their gazes hard and yet somehow scratchy, making his gray fur feel like it had become covered in lice. He let out a snort and several of them yelped at that, sure he was preparing to attack them. A part of him wanted to, actually. The warrior in him remember well the pony race and it was aghast that they dared to look at him as such. In his time they would have averted their eyes and hurried away, showing him the respect he was due.

“But this isn’t my time, is it?” he muttered to himself. Tydal heard several of them murmur, wondering if it was a curse or a warning that hung in the air, and he found his annoyance grow all the more. “No, that much is clear. My time is long gone, like so many that once dwelled in these lands.” He shook his head in disgust. “And in our absence you have rebuilt this world as your own. Razed it and forged something new on the bones of what once was already perfect. Though… I suppose you don’t realize that, do you?” He whipped around, ignoring the cries of fright his audience gave as he held his head up high, his voice growing firmer. “Oh no… you never bother to think about that, do you? No time for that, not in your busy little lives. No time to think of the past, of what came before. Too much to do, too much to see. Busy, busy busy!” With each word his back hooves clicked against the ground. “Never considering all those who have passed on, whose great works and wondrous deeds made it possible for you to live as you do. Do you… do you even think of them? Consider who came before… made you able to have such wonders?” He violently shook his head, as if fighting off an invisible force. “NO! Of course you don’t! You take for granted all these splendid things that make up your lives! That is too much trouble… or there isn’t enough time.” He let out a bitter laugh. “Time…”

He spat the word out like a curse.

He looked at the skyscraper, the great structures of Manehattan that brought so many into the city’s embrace, a sign of the city’s strength and standing and found himself wanting to tear it all down, brick by brick. He wanted to smash his back into the straight strong walls, scar the bricks with a swish of his mighty tail, and rip the keystone out with his teeth. He wanted to topple it all and stomp on the rubble until it was turned to a fine dust. He wanted to show them all the power of the Lost Ages, of HIS age, and show them that for all they had done there was still strength, still power. He could do it too; he SHOULD do it…

“I remember this place,” Tydal said, none of his internal struggles visible to those that watched; if they knew just what dark thoughts whispered in his head the ponies would have died in fright right there on the sidewalks. “This was not your city back then. That would have been too audacious of you. Too daring. Not on this continient. I wonder… I wonder if the years have granted you the backbones that you lacked. Or is it that you simply have faced nothing that truly demands courage?” He tapped the street with his hoof. “I remember this path… like an old friend whose face I can see in my waking dreams.” He turned and pointed to where a small theater, the patrons that had been inside drawn out to see the capricorn that was all the more interesting than the performance going on inside. “There was a brook over there. Yes… with the sweetest water you’d ever tasted. It was always cold but even in the winter you would suffer through that because nothing could quite quench your thirst.

“And there… there was grove of trees, with two that had stood side by side for so long that they’re branches had become knotted together. As if they had gone from two… to one! Nothing could bring them down, nothing at all. Not wind or rain or fury of a storm. How did they fall? How?” He looked about, seeking an answer that would never come. “Was it age? Did the years go by and leave them rotted and hollow until they collapsed, one dragging down the other?” His jaw clenched and his eyes flashed and a rage filled him, so hot that nothing could cool it. “Or was it you? You and your kind? Did you come here and hack them down because they were in your way? Snap their branches? Chop down the trunk! Tear the roots from the ground itself! Perhaps they offended you and you took axes to their bark and burned their branches and used their trunks to build your homes!”

The crowd was frightened but found themselves unable to move or leave. It was as if some spell had been placed on them, locking them where they stood and forcing them to stand as witnesses as the capricorn ranted.

“And there, down that street, there was beach of dark sand and dirt. The waves would lap and when you laid in the grass you felt as if you could hear all of creation at once! What did you do to that, I wonder? How did you destroy that!?” He twisted around, demanding answers, but not had them to give; only the dead knew those tales. “I knew this land so well, and the waters beyond it! I knew them… I knew them as if they were my family!”

The moment he said the word his face crumbled. His eyes were wide, his mouth opened and chin trembling as his breath came out in harsh gasps. Tears gathered in his eyes, which burned worse than he’d ever felt before and Tydal found himself unable to stop the tremors that had been threatening to overtake him from the moment he’d entered the city.

“My family… oh… oh…”

He collapsed, great racking sobs thundering across his body. He did not bellow. He did not throw his head skyward and roar into the sky. No… it was small sounds, like the squeaked of a mouse, came from his throat and the ponies that watched him found themselves shocked that such little noises could come from one so large. He laid on the ground and wept, the faces of his wife and daughters swirling through his mind. Several ponies moved towards him, swallowing their fear as they approached the weeping sea god, unsure of what they would do when they came within striking distance. But they couldn’t be stopped… not in the face of such pain, even if it came from one so different from them.

“Get away from him!”

The ponies leapt back, looking around in a panic before their eyes rose skyward. Descending like angels from the Heavens the Princesses Celestia and Luna looked upon their subjects and for once it was not gazes of love or understanding that shone in their eyes. Instead a fierce desire roared in their hearts as the sisters, the alicorns of day and night, spread their wings upon landing in an attempt to shield the old warrior that wept in the street.

“Leave him alone!” Luna screamed, daring them to take a step closer. “Stay back!” Her own eyes were red with tears and her body trembled nearly as badly as Tydal’s.

“Go back to your homes,” Celestia said sternly, more in control of her emotions than her sister. “Let not a word of what you have seen pass through your lips. This is not for your gossip or entertainment. If you make this scene into a jest know that I will treat it as an insult upon myself and my realm and will respond in kind!” The crowd dispersed quickly at that and within minutes the busiest city in Equestria found its streets had been emptied, leaving only the sisters to serve as witness to the capricorn’s breakdown. “Oh father…” Celestia whispered as Tydal trembled.

Luna nuzzled the old goat’s cheek but he could not find the will to fight through the tremors or the sobs. The once cloudless skies joined him and wept their own tears, drenching the princesses as the storm rolled in. They had tried to catch him, to stop him, but moments after leaving the Gate Tydal had fled, overwhelmed by his return to the world of the living. Celestia and Luna had hoped to catch him, to protect him from the emotional backlash they had feared would come… and now found themselves too late to stop.

“Sister,” Luna whispered. She had laid down beside her father, resting his head upon her forelegs and bringing her head to lay upon his. He had comforted her much the same way when she was small and now the desire to protect this old warrior, this king of a forgotten age, the being who had raised her and her sister as if they were his own… it swelled in her, threatening to consume her. In a quiet voice she asked, “What do we do now?”

Celestia swallowed, refusing to give up her protective stance. There was but one answer.

“We need to find The Abundance.”

Recovery Efforts

“As centuries of dictators have known, an illiterate crowd is the easiest to rule; since the craft of reading cannot be untaught once it has been acquired, the second-best recourse is to limit its scope.”

― Alberto Manguel, A History of Reading

Ponyville

“Where should this one go?” Spike asked, holding up a book for Twilight to see.

But rather than actually look at what Spike was holding up all she did was ask, “What is it?” She made no move to glance up, her nose half-buried in a ledger that sat sprawled out on her desk.

The dragon rolled his eyes. It was nice that Twilight didn’t micromanage him so much (there was a time where she would have stood beside him and told him how to actually put the book on the shelf, fearful he would ‘bruise it’, as if that were possible) he found her being so flippant when he did need help to be nearly as annoying. He tried to remind himself that she both had a lot on her mind and trusted him greatly but still he wished Trixie or Faith or even Iron Will was around to give her a bop on the head and remind her to be nice. “The complete works of Ink Pot the playwright, 5th addition.”

“Put it on the fictional plays crate,” Twilight said, turning a page in the ledger.

“But he based a lot of his tales on actual history,” Spike argued. “Shouldn’t it be on the historical play crate?” Asking why they even had historical and fictional play crates was simply a non starter so Spike didn’t even try and argue that. Sometimes, when it came to Twilight, the only way to win the game was not to play at all.

“First off good point,” Twilight said. “Howevert he only BASED them on history and he tended to pick and choose what he liked best. That makes them more fiction than non-fiction so go with the fictional play crate.” She paused, her horn glowing as she brought over an ink well and quill and a scroll. “Who donated that one?”

“Uh… a Mr. Piles.” He should have figured as much; the librarian from Canterlot had been one of the biggest aides in their current task.

Twilight quickly made a note of that on the scroll she’d brought over. “That’s… twenty from him so far. He’s in the lead.”

Spike cast a look at her. “You make it sound like a contest.”

“Not a contest, merely a running total.” Under her breath she muttered with a glower, “and he’s winning…”

“Twilight,” Spike scolded. “You can’t blame ponies for being cautious.”

“I don’t, Spike,” Twilight said, finally setting down the scroll she’d been rereading and trotting around the crates that littered the library floor. They would have looked at home in any warehouse if it weren’t for the runes craved into the boards, written in archaic languages long dead to all save scholars and mages. And even then there were few that would know one of them, let alone them all. ‘Of course it helps that I have several immortal beings who were around when the runes were first created to help me out,’ Twilight thought with a smirk. Neatly printed above the runes were words like ‘880s romance’, ‘folk tale humor’, and ‘instructional-life and living’. “But I do blame them for allowing their emotions to get in the way of the good of Equestria.”

The little dragon narrowed his eyes, placing his hands on his hips. “And it’s Queenly talk like that which makes it hard for us to get more ponies to help out!”

“Which is just ridiculous!” Twilight complained, looking over the books Spike was still sorting. “First off, it’s been three years! We’ve forgiven a lot of things a lot sooner than this.”

“Those things were minor compared to placing Equestria under fanatical rule,” Spike pointed out.

Twilight refused to aknowledge that; after all, the ones that had done that were Applejack, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, and Rarity (while Pinkie had been innocent of it all most ponies still remembered Laughter pretending to be her and now saw the new Spirit of Generosity as being just as guilty even though she’d spent almost the entire war in a trance tied to a bed). “Second, everyone is just so jumpy. So I can’t say ‘for the good of Equestria’ because it might sound like something one of the Queens may have said? That’s just silly.”

“But it is how ponies feel, Twilight.”

“Well they are wrong. I get that the Abstracts and the Queens caused harm but to reject everything that comes with harmony just because some took it to the extreme is being foolish. In that case we shouldn’t have candles because some pony was once an arsonist!”

Spike held up his hands. “Hey, I’m with you all the way. Just pointing out how ponies feel.”

Twilight sighed, head drooping. “I know, Spike, I know. And I shouldn’t snap at you. I just hate that we’re having so many problems because a few bad acorns are spoiling the whole bunch.” She picked up a book and looked it over. “A novel by Letrotski?”

“Crate’s up there. I’ll take it.” Spike grabbed the book and focused, willing himself to grow taller until he towered over Twilight, able to reach the second level of their home without even needing to go up the stairs.

“Was that really necessary?” Twilight asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“No but its fun!” Spike said as he shrank back down. “Been too long since I’ve been able to stretch out.”

“We’re only here for two weeks Spike and then we’ll be back on the Abundance,” Twilight said, floating her record scroll over to her so she could note the book Spike had put away and who had given it to them. “I know it was a short visit the last time but we need to get this done.”

Spike frowned as he waddled around the pile. “I still think we should have just done this on the airship. A lot more hands and hooves around to help out.”

“There are things an airship is good for and things a library is good for.”

“…you’re just afraid that Clockwork will get hold of a book, aren’t you?”

Twilight grimaced, hugging another book to her chest. “He’s in the gumming phase. I’ve seen him eyeing up my collection of Prancy Drew stories!” She shook herself free of that terrible vision. “Besides, you’re the one preaching caution and understanding. The Abundance is Trixie and Faith’s and…”

“…and Abstracts aren’t exactly trusted either,” Spike finished.

“As much as I hate to say that,” Twilight said with a sigh. “Ponies don’t trust me because I’m still friends with the girls. Ponies don’t trust Faith and Trixie because they are Abstracts. Never mind that we fought to stop the Queens… we’re tainted by association.”

“That’s just the way things are, Twilight,” Spike said, patting her foreleg. “Give them time.”

“I am,” Twilight said with a bitter laugh. “I could give them all the time in the world and that would never fix anything.”

“…for some, yeah,” Spike admitted.

“And meanwhile Equestria pays the price.” Twilight selected a filled crate and grasped it with her magic, lifting it and having it float behind her as she trotted down to her lab in the basement.

The machines that she’d used for her magical research were gone, packed away and put into storage so that the large open space could be used for her latest project. Stacked up against one wall were almost a hundred of similar crates to the one Twilight held, though the runes on them were each different and incomplete. They were lined up in organized towers, with the name of a different library, college, or institution inscribed on them, one for each tower she had set up. Twilight had already set up twenty empty crates in the center of the lab, which waited for her to begin.

Setting the crate filled with books (the works of Sir Artful Detection, which were semi-autobiographical tellings of his work with the Trottingham police) in the center of the room before turning her attention to the empty ones that surrounded it. Glancing at the rune cluster on the filled crate Twilight copied a particular grouping onto each empty crate before selecting a lid, it too inscribed with mystical writing, and lowered it down into place on the full crate. In the center of the lid was a cork, like one would find in a wine bottle, and Twilight carefully removed this before bringing over a beaker filled with shimmering water. Even now it went against everything she stood for to drop liquid onto a book but she forced her magic to hold steady and she applied two drops into the hole before sealing it shut with the cork once again. A buzz of magic filled the air and she watched as, slowly, swirling magic began to fill each of the awaiting and lidless crates. Over the next hour and a half the empty crates would fill as the runes, combined with the waters of the legendary Mirror Pool, created perfect duplicates of each book in the crate. Then it would only be a matter of packaging the duplicates up and shipping them off to their new homes.

'Knowledge is power,' Celestia had once told her during one of their early lessons. 'And he who controls knowledge has the greatest power of them all.' The Queens had obviously realized this and, taking a page out of every dictator and despot's playbook, hurried to cement their rule by destroying all that they viewed as 'offensive to the harmony of Equestria'. Any book with a hint of controversy had been burned in the name of unity. It didn't matter what the sin was, to not be 'pure' was to see it eliminated. Old novels that used slurs now known to be cruel and hurtful? Destroyed. History books that discussed violence? Destroyed. Plays of romance where there was a conflict and confusion? Destroyed. So much had been lost in their misguided attempt to create paradise.

But it was not all dark. Her own library had been untouched, as her friends, in their own twisted logic during those dark days of their corruption, and thought that burning it to the ground would be a bonding experience between all of them after Twilight joined them in their ‘glorious’ rule. But hers wasn’t the only safe bastion for the written word. Twilight had learned early on in her quest to repair the country that some had managed to protect books, scrolls, and parchment from the cleansing fires. She had put the word out, begging those that had a collection, no matter if it was a hidden library or just a book tucked under a bed when the enforcers had arrived, to keep them secure and be ready for when she called.

As much as Twilight had wanted to rush about the country colleting all the books and working to get them copied and redistributed she'd understood that there were more important things that had to be done to repair Equestria. A dozen cities had been left destroyed. Entire villages wiped out. Canterlot Castle had been left in ruins after Faith's final battle with Doubt (Celestia had said his use of her throne as a bludgeoning device was the best use of it yet) and Manehattan's parks had become refugee camps. While no one would starve (the Queens had, at the very least, wanted to care for their subjects and Honesty had revealed the hidden location of warehouses full of food that were quickly given out for free) no one wanted to spend the winter outdoors and thus housing the ponies who'd lost their homes became the biggest issue for the first year.

It'd been eventually decided to move them to warmer areas, such as Appleloosa, Neigh Orleans, Las Pegasus, and Tampa Neigh. Such a massive exodus, even with the aid of The Abundance, had been an undertaking the likes of which Equestria had never seen; not helped that while most saw Trixie and her crew has saviors there were some that looked upon her and Faith’s metallic coats put two and two together, and realized they were also Abstracts. Still, they'd managed to get everyone moved and settled for the winter and in the spring had begun the long task of rebuilding. New Cloudsdale, Manehattan, Winniepeg, and of course Canterlot had all been their first focuses but it seemed that every day Twilight learned of something new that needed to be fixed or altered.

But finally, after three long years of work, she'd been able to return once more to the issue of the books. She watched, smiling as the magic spell slowly recreated each book, one atom at a time. This project had also seen its share of set backs and issues. While some collectors had been willing to help her out others refused. A bit of it had been fear that this was all some sort of trick but, sadly, much had been out of greed. Collectors saw that what had once been a common tome was now a one-of-a-kind and didn't want to take what was suddenly valuable and make it worthless again. Others had books that truly had been the only ones in existence before the 5 Months War and didn't want to have their collection ruined by duplicating their prized possessions. Twilight had heard false claims that copying a book would damage it, would lower its worth, would destroy it. That her process was untested and unfounded. One collector had even had the nerve to put out his own notice offering money for books that were supposed to go to Twilight; he'd promised wealth to rebuild for just a few books.

It had taken some firm words from Celestia to get the stallion to see the error of his ways.

Still, it was a struggle to get what she needed. Twilight was making headway but it didn’t feel like enough to her and every time she sent out a new shipment of books she wished that there were simply more. It drove her mad that so many were using the darkness from three years prior as an excuse for their petty and greedy ways.

She let out a sigh. Nothing that could be done about it now.

“Well, a decent enough haul for today,” Spike said as Twilight finally emerged from the basement, placing the last book in the right crate. “Until the next shipment arrives we can kick back and relax!”

“We still have to move the duplicate books, get them mailed out, and organize the rewards for those that have helped us,” Twilight reminded him. “Of course we need to figure out WHAT to give them.”

“Yeah, must be hard when book pony can’t give out books,” Spike said with a snort. Twilight shot him a dry look and Spike blanched. “Uh… hehe… no offense?”

“no taken,” Twilight said dryly before perking up. "As for not giving out books, I don't know about that!" Twilight said with a grin. "I'm thinking maybe give them first pick of some of the books I've ordered from Saddle Arabia and Prance. There is supposed to be a wonderful scroll that recounts the discussion between Deep Thought and Articulate concerning the morality of morality. Hasn’t been read in Equestria in ages and I’m having to trade 20 crates of duplicated books to get it but-"

"Sounds...yawn... gripping," Spike said, shaking his head. "Personally I'd like some nice rubies or sapphires."

"Spike, what kind of being would want precious stones as a gift?" The baby dragon opened his mouth to point out that he would but never got to say a word as there was a steady rapping on the door that cut off his comment. "You expecting anypony?"

"Nope," Spike said. "You?"

"No..." Twilight said, her horn glowing as she walked towards the door, wings flared out. She focused and her eyes went black as light and dark magic began to swirl around her. The last three years had taught her to be careful when it came to unexpected guests; she'd had to already fight off ponies on five separate occasions who had tried to attack her for dethroning 'the glorious queens' and ending 'Equestria's New Golden Age'. Faith's warning of them not being seen as saviors by some had proven prophetic. Moving to stand beside the wood door she nodded to Spike who moved out of the entry way's eyeline before swelling to nearly 7 feet of rock hard muscle. He cracked his neck before flashing a dark smile. "Who is it?"

"Chief Miranda, ma'am," the voice called out from the other side of the door.

"Oh!" Twilight said, eyes returning to normal, and quickly opening the door (though not letting her guard drop... just in case). "Come in!" The gray-blue unicorn stallion nodded, his bushy black mustache bobbing on his upper lip as he trotted in. He was wearing a standard issue police hat and shirt, his badge proudly shined up for all to see. While Ponyville had once prided itself on being able to monitor and police itself they had seen that such practices could no longer exist and, sadly, a form of law and order was needed. It hadn't been, much to Twilight's surprise, the 5 Months War or its aftermath that had led to this decision but rather a traveling band of thieves from Little Percheron who thought Ponyville would be a good place to commit some B&E. Chief Miranda had come to Ponyville the year before and helped ease the fears of the townsfolk.

Twilight had, sadly, been forced to interact more with the stallion than she'd have wished due to the death threats and harassment sent her and the girls' way from both those that blamed the Queens for everything under Celestia's sun and those who longed for their reign to return. Miranda had been stern but fair, chasing off most of the loudmouths and getting a bit more physical for those that couldn't take a hint. Twilight had tried not to bother him, knowing he had enough on his plate, but he was a handy ally to have.

Miranda looked over at Spike and nodded in approval. "Good lad, good lad." His own horn glowed and he pulled his cap off, wiping his brow. "Sorry to come unannounced like this, Miss Sparkle, but something's come up that you need to know about."

"What's that?" Twilight asked, tapping down the urge to offer him some tea. Her mother had raised her to be polite but she could tell the police officer was here on business.

"Did you send a crate of books by Pony Express yesterday?"

"I did..." Twilight said slowly. "It was a standard delivery. Why?"

"I'm going to need you and Spike to come with me."

"Chief... what's going on?" Twilight asked, making no move to head outside. "What happened?"

Chief Miranda studied her for a moment before letting out a sigh. "Normally I wouldn't tell you so I didn't have to deal with you panicking the whole way there but you and your dragon friend have pretty good heads on your shoulders and I think you can handle it. This morning a Miss Zecora, who says she knows you, stumbled upon the remains of the Pony Express wagon. There... there was some kind of attack. You need to see it for yourself to be honest. Miss Zecora contacted me as soon as she saw it... shook that zebra right up."

"Is Zecora okay?" Twilight asked.

"Disturbed by what she saw and I don't blame her but otherwise fine. I called in for backup from Green Hay and they are staying with her and the survivor... a Miss Dinky Hooves… until her parents can come and collect her."

"Dinky was involved?" Spike asked, staring down at the officer.

Twilight shook her head. "Wait... survivor?"

Miranda let out a shuddering breath. "Miss Sparkle... the rest of the Pony Express team you hired... they're dead. Some...thing...well…”

“What?”

“Something burned them alive."

A Creeping Doubt

The Abundance
Peacefully Floating over the forests outside of Santa Ponica

The explosion rocked the ship, tossing its crew about violently. Cries that were a mix of panic, frustration, and anger filled the air as the mighty airship trembled and bucked, listing to one side. Great Storm Chaser, one of the several buffalo that had been imprisoned during the war and later joined up with the prison escapees, grabbed onto a swinging rope with his teeth and pulled with all his might, trying to get the sails righted so the ship wouldn’t go into a barrel roll. Twitch the Diamond Dog was at the wheel, complaining that Steadyhoof was supposed to have relieved him 10 minutes ago and it wasn’t fair this happened on his watch. Shrewd Deal had up from below deck wondering what was going on only to toss away his charts and maps and begin helping the others get things settled and The Abundance back on an even keel.

The Abundance
Not Quite Peacefully Floating over the forests outside of Santa Ponica

“Does anyone want to tell Iron Will just what happened?” the massive minotaur and first mate of The Abundance shouted as he climbed down from the crow’s nest, annoyance written on his features. “I thought I heard an explosion.”

“You did! You did! I heard it!” Twitch called out, rubbing his paws nervously before realizing he needed to keep steering. “Stupid Steadyhoof…” the Diamond Dog complained.

“Were we fired upon?” Shrewd Deal asked, finally getting a line secured.

“Appears not!” Drizzle Drop, a pegasus mare declared, zooming around the ship. “I see some damage on the right side-“

Chaser sighed. “We don’t say right side on a ship, we say-“

“-but it looks like it came from the inside.”

“…of course it did,” Iron Will grunted, “Deal, find Steadyhoof and get him to relieve Twitch. Chaser, finish up here. I’ll deal with this.” The former motivational speaker went below deck once he’d issued his commands, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration, waving off concerned crew members who asked what was going on. Even after three years of peace they were all still jumpy about an attack, fearing that something big and powerful had finally come to blow them out of the sky. Dr. Wolf, the psychologist Twilight had hired early on to assist them in aiding the displaced ponies of Equestria, had spent nearly half his time helping the former prisoners who still suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Will knew the shrink be getting knocks on his door for the next few hours with members of their large and strange family needing to talk over what had just happened and settle their nerves. “I’ll probably need a session myself,” Will muttered. He was good at motivating people but that was all he knew when it came to the mind and he preferred to defer to the Doc.

The Abundance had been lucky in that, while being the base of operations for Equestria’s rebuilding efforts, it hadn’t been truly targeted for any major attack. The worst trouble always seemed to happen when the senior crew members were down on the ground. That was both good and bad as Iron Will would have liked to have all hooves and hands and paws available… but he also feared just what could truly challenge the mighty airship. No, better than the worst came when himself or the abstracts or Spike and Twilight were dealing with some troublesome ponies than for them to be caught in an attack.

The minotaur paused, shoulders slumping. “Damn it, Sparkle, you had to leave now?” he said to himself. This should have been something for Twilight to handle; she was better at talking to the two culprits, understanding all their fancy talk. He’d have much preferred asking Spike to grow to his height so they could arm wrestle to blow off steam than to deal with the interpersonal stuff. But Twilight and Spike were off for a few weeks to take care of a side project and if he got Faith involved the Lord of the Gray would probably monologue everyone’s ears off. That left Iron Will to deal with the mess.

Pushing open the cabin door her stepped into the large work lab and glared at the two culprits of the explosion who were neck deep in a mess. Their faces would have been comical, the way they were covered in black soot, if Will was in a laughing mood, and their clothing had been torn by the blast of the explosion. They were at least uninjured from appearances, which meant he didn’t need to get Dr. House Call to come down and grump at them.

“-been fine if you had twisted it as I said.”

“I did twist it that way, brother.”

“Well I meant the other way! You should have known that.”

“How? By reading your mind?”

“You’d be able to if the helmet worked-“

“What in Tartarus’ name did you idiots do?!?” Iron roared, startling the two out of their argument. The two lean unicorns blinked and looked up at him, finally realizing they had company. “Flim… Flam… I’m waiting.”

Flam smiled weakly. “I’m guessing you felt that?”

“We all felt it. We also felt the ship nearly capsize… in the air. You know how hard that is?!?” Will demanded.

Flim tapped his chin. “I could run some numbers-“

“Don’t,” Will said, rubbing his temples. “Just… don’t. Just… tell me what happened.”

“Well, we were working on our latest edition to The Abundance.”

“A brilliant one, if I may say,” Flim said.

Flam nodded. “Quite brilliant. My brother’s idea.”

“But you inspired me.”

“True true, but you are the-“

“Guys!” Will snapped. He was far too used to the brothers getting stuck in a loop like that. “What were you making?”

“Oh just exploding anchors.”

“Well, anchors that explode when you want. Not explode any time… like this one did,” Flim admitted.

“…why do we even need that?” Iron Will asked.

“Why would you not?” the two asked.

The minotaur rolled his eyes. “Guys, you freaked everyone out, the ship will need some repairs… you’re just lucky that-“

The door slammed open and a metallic blue unicorn stormed in, her captain’s hat perched just above her horn. “You know… it isn’t my ship nearly being destroyed that annoys me.”

“-you didn’t bring the captain down,” Will said before turning to look at Trixie, Flim and Flam gulping nervously. “Hey boss.”

“It isn’t that I have half my crew in a panic that annoys me. It isn’t even the fact that I am sure this was an unauthorized experiment that annoys me.” Trixie stepped forward with each point until the brothers had to lean back lest she run them over. “What annoys me… is you woke my baby from NAP TIME!” Her horn glowed and she thrust forward Clockwork, who had been laying on her back, in their faces. The infant blinked, staring at everyone, a blankie that looked suspiciously like Trixe’s old cape clutched in his forelegs.

“…he looks okay,” Flim said weakly. Clockwork did, in fact, look fine. The baby was gumming his hoof, blinking at him without a care in the world. “He isn’t crying.”

“CLOCKWORK CRIES ON THE INSIDE!” Trixie roared. In a gentle voice she said to her son, “Isn’t that right, precious? Yes it is, yes it is!”

“Huh?” the foal said, tilting his head and looking at his mama in confusion.

“We can come back later if you want some time alone with him,” Flam said.

“A brilliant idea, brother.”

“I thought so, brother.” The two moved to escape but Trixie stopped them. “Or not?”

“It… is… nap time!” Trixie screamed. “We do not explode during nap time!”

“…but you told us last week no explosions during dinner time,” Flim said.

“Geez…” Iron Will groaned, facepalming.

“I NEVER WANT EXPLOSIONS!”

“…but what if you really need them?” Flam asked.

Trixie trembled. “Will, hold Clockwork.” The minotaur nodded, taking the baby from her, the infant cooing and trying to climb up his shoulder. The captain of The Abundance slowly removed her jacket before rolling up her shirt sleeves and levitating her hat onto one of the work benches. “You want an explosion? I’ll give you an explosion! I’ll explode all over your faces!” Flim and Flam, having no sense of fear, snickered. “NOT LIKE THAT YOU PERVERTS!!!”

“You don’t want to see this,” Iron Will said, covering Clockwork’s eyes.

“Time for a great and powerful flank kicking-“

“Trixie.”

Everyone frozen as the familiar voice echoed from the doorway. Slowly everyone turned to stare at the newcomer who had interrupted Trixie’s almost-beatdown.

Clockwork squealed and leapt out of Iron Will’s hands, jumping onto Flim and Flam’s heads before leaping onto Trixie’s back, causing her to let out an oomfp, before flinging himself at the new arrival.

“How is my special little colt,” Faith whispered, catching Clockwork with his magic and bringing him over so he could kiss his forehead. The baby squirmed and giggled, reaching up to grasp his father’s horn. “Having fun with mama and the rest of the family?” He looked at Trixie and the brothers. “Because we are family… and we don’t settle problems this way.”

Trixie let out a frustrated sigh. “They almost blew us up.”

“Good. They can build on that to ‘they didn’t get a chance to blow us up’ and then ‘they didn’t even try’.” He looked at the inventors. “Go make sure they don’t need your help up top and then come back down here. Get the lab cleaned up and then begin work repairing what was damaged. Think of it as an excuse to improve upon things.”

“Yes sir!” Flim said.

“We won’t let you down!” Flam added.

“Won’t even come close.”

“Will be far away.”

“The farthest-“

“Just go!” Trixie snarled, the two wisely scurrying off. Iron Will made to move but Trixie waved him off. “No… you might as well say and bear witness to my humiliation.”

“Those are some rather elegant words you’re letting roll of your tongue,” Faith said with a smirk. “I’m rubbing off on you”

“Will, smack me if I begin monologuing,” Trixie snarked, the minotaur giving her a mock salute.

Faith, with Clockwork now climbing up his head and sliding down his neck (all under the glow of a protection spell Faith was casting; he had wings made of mirror glass, after all), motioned for Trixie to join him at the one table that hadn’t been turned to kindling by the explosion. “You’re frustrated.” Trixie gave him a sour look and the Mirror Alicorn held up a front hoof. “I mean in general… not about the explosion. You’re frustrated and using Flim and Flam as your personal punching bags to deal with your emotional issues because facing the problem that is causing your frustrations is too daunting for you to handle at this point.”

“…no it isn’t.” Faith and Iron Will just stared at her with even gazes and Trixie threw up her forelegs in exasperation. “It’s the stupid training you are making me do!” she exclaimed. “It’s stupid and I hate it and you and Will for clearly agreeing with you and-“ Will snatched up Clockwork and thrust him in Trixie’s fast, halting her rant. “-I don’t hate you. Never could hate mommy's little Top Hat.” Clockwork giggled and wiggled his legs before Will returned the foal to his perch on his father’s back. “But I hate everything else that isn’t named Clockwork and with my last breath curse you all!”

Faith merely smiled. “And yet I love you all the same. Especially your melodramatics.”

“I don’t,” Will said, crossing his arms over his chest. When the two abstracts stared at him (Clockwork busy making faces at his reflection in his father’s wings) the minotaur gestured at them. “Hey, you’re the ones that forced Iron Will to be a part of your conversation! Weird enough with Twilight, you don’t need a minotaur involved in this relationship!”

“You’re here for moral support,” Faith said while Trixie stated, “Here to witness my failure.” Faith stared at her and let out a sigh. “What is wrong?”

“…I can’t do the exercises right.”

“Pardon?”

“The exercises!” Trixie screamed in frustration. “Those stupid mental tasks and assignments you gave me to help me control my Abstracty power thingies.”

“Those are magics that are as old as the world itself… they aren’t ‘power thingies’.

Iron Will elbowed him. “Not the point.”

“Right, of course it isn’t,” he said, shaking his head before focusing once more on Trixie. “Is that what has you upset? That you are having problems? It doesn’t matter to me and it shouldn’t to you.”

Iron Will facepalmed. “You really know nothing about females.”

Trixie glared at him. “I don’t care about you! I care about me! And I care that I CAN’T DO IT!” In a softer voice she whispered, “I can’t do it.” She scuffed her hoof against the wood floor, her eyes lowering so she didn’t have to look at any of them. “None of it works. It’s like trying to ask an Earth Pony to fly or a Pegasus to cast spells. They can try and try with all their might, do all the tests and exercises but it doesn’t matter. It will never matter. It just doesn’t happen. I just can't do this. I can't be the Abstract of Doubt."

"There is no 'can't' with us," Faith said. "You are the Abstract of Doubt... it is now your nature to make ponies question the world around them. Whether you mean to or not it will be something that comes as naturally as breathing."

"If you are trying to showcase such power by instilling faith in me then you're wasting your time," Trixie sulked. "Abstracts can't affect other abstracts anymore... remember? The first Doubt had her screwed up plan with the Gate saw to that."

Faith let out a sad sigh, magically sending Clockwork over to Iron Will. He shot the minotaur a look and the first mate quietly slipped away, the foal secure in his large strong hands. "I wish I could, I truly do. I wish I could drive your fears away and make you feel at peace with the world."

The blue mare chuckled weakly. "If you are trying to distract me with that silver tongue of yours you're failing that as well."

"Why is this so important to you? It's only been two years."

That was clearly the wrong thing to say and Trixie's face told Faith that loud and clear. "Two years... during which bucking Pinkie Pie has mastered the art of Generosity to a tee. Scootaloo, a teenager yes but one who is barely past being a filly, can sense the bonds of loyalty and see where they have fractured and how to repair them. Discord... DISCORD... has become the patron saint of Laughter and now ponies look forward to his jokes rather than fear his name." Faith shuddered at that and Trixie broke out of her pity party to grimace. "Sorry... I forget you were alive when he was spreading chaos."

"It's fine," Faith said, forcing himself to smile. "I don't even remember when I was a pony, let alone Discord."

'But you remember he killed your parents,' Trixie wanted to say. She forced the words back down her throat, refusing to let them be spoken. She, Faith, Twilight, and the eldest Apple Siblings had only learned that terrible truth a few months back, when Honesty had gotten completely hammered on hard apple cider and let spill that little detail, along with such facts as Faith's original pony name (That still made Trixie snicker; Honesty being known as Oatmeal was funny and Kindness being known as Sugar was fitting but knowing that Faith had once been called Fudge was hysterical). But the humor over Faith's name had died with the knowledge that his parents had been victims of Discord's rule. They had never spoken of it again after that night but the fact that by Discord's magic Faith would never remember his parents was a bitter pill for the Mirror Alicorn.

"But look at me. I can't do anything an Abstract is supposed to do. I can't 'see' anything like the rest of you can, I can barely inspire somepony to feel an ounce of doubt, can't whisper in ears... I can't do any of it."

"You'll get there," Faith said gently. "I've had a thousand years and I still screw up. I was the second Doubt, remember?"

Trixie though wasn't convinced. "I need to learn though. I need to get better."

"Why?"

"I need to show Clockwork!" Trixie snapped. "I need to be able to teach him this."

Faith just stared at her. "I don't follow. I can explain-"

"But I want to explain it!" Trixie cried out, fighting tears. "You can teach him how to be a good stallion and he'll learn magic from Twilight... what will I teach him? What will he learn from me? It has to be this!"

"You are more than an abstract," Faith said. "You'll teach him so many other things."

"Like what? How to do fake magic tricks? How to get captured by Twilight's brainwashed friends? How to fake your way into being captain of an airship- and don't give me that look, we both know that I shouldn't be in charge of the Abundance. The only reason I was declared captain was I found the hat first and you were injured."

"And yet you've kept us all alive," Faith reminded her. "You helped stop Doubt. You have helped lead the charge to repair Equestria. You've kept our family together and seen it grow." He shook his head and chuckled. "And you are a really good abstract, because-"

"If you say I make me doubt myself I'll buck you in the groin," Trixie warned him, though she did hiccup a bit as she laughed.

"You're smiling."

"With anger and frustration," Trixie said, trying to sound stern.

"I made you laugh."

"You said something so cheesy and clichéd it was hard not to."

"If it works it works," Faith said, giving her a hug. "You are your own worst critic, you know that? I remember how you used to talk about your show, how it was never good enough, how you could do better. You let things eat away at you, preventing you from seeing just how great you are at some many things." He grinned and pressed his forehead against her's. "I wish sometimes you could see yourself through my eyes."

"...if you keep saying overly dramatic tripe like that I'm going to throw up on you," Trixie said with a half laugh. While her fears weren't gone and Faith wasn't foolish enough to think a few kind words would get her to put aside her worries he knew that he'd at least eased her away from spiraling depression for a while. He'd need to keep a close eye on her and, perhaps, dedicate more time to helping her master her abilities. She was right about one thing: she needed to master them.

The world needed doubt just as much as it needed faith.

There was a knock on the door and the two turned to see Will once more standing there, trying to look powerful and dignified even as Clockwork sat on his head, giggling up a storm as he played with his ears. "Captain, we've arrived."

"Perfect!" Trixie said, happily slipping into her royal of commander of The Abundance and leader of the wild array of Equestrian protectors. "Have everyone ready at their stations. Get the senior crew ready to lower down... I want to try siccing Faith on them first before we resort to violence." Iron Will nodded and hurried off, Clockwork's laughter echoing behind him. Trixie grinned and rushed out of the room and towards the captain's cabin, wanting to get dressed before going onto the bridge... and make sure Faith put on his own ceremonial uniform. For a stallion who ended up always in the spotlight he had a bad habit of wanting to avoid the pomp and circumstance that went with their job. "I've been itching to get down on the ground for a week!" Trixie said as she tossed away the jacket she'd been wearing and found her more formal captain's jacket, complete with medals of valor for her part of the 5 Months War. This was what she needed, something to focus on and keep her from considering all her failures.

"What are we facing this time?" Faith asked. "More cultists, I'm assuming?"

"Yup!" Trixie said. "Or, at least, one cult leader who's apparently tricked aimless and emotionally frazzled ponies into following her. Claims she's about equality and that soon they will make all in Equestria equal. Really screwed up mare... the village she's taken over doesn't even have a name."

"And our mystery mare?" Faith asked. "She nameless too?"

"She's missing a cutie mark, as are all the ponies in that town. Apparently she can remove them along with their special talent." Faith grimaced at that; they'd been running into more and more wild and strange magic recently. "As for a name she has one."

"And that is?"

"Starlight," Trixie said. "Starlight Glimmer."

Heavy Is the Head

“The world is changing. Soon there will only be the conquered… and the conquerors. You are a good man. With a good heart. And it is hard for a good man… to be a king.”

-T'Chaka

Canterlot

For Penny Drop there were a lot of good and bad to her daddy working for the princesses. He sometimes had to spend a lot of time at the castle and she really didn't like that because, in her mind, if you couldn't play all day then things were really boring. She'd watched him once pouring over the big binders he brought home from work and was sure that whatever he did it wasn't very fun, despite how much he tried to make it seem entertaining. The pages didn't even have any drawings on them! Just numbers and words and other marks she didn't understand. She'd tried to tell him that her picture books were better and he should just take them to work but he'd merely smiled and ruffled her mane before going back to squinting at the silly numbers.

Her daddy could be strange at times.

One of the great things about his job though was that Penny got to play in the royal gardens at the castle as much as she wanted. Princess Celestia was really nice and told her that as long as she stayed in the big beautiful garden and didn't wander where the guards couldn't see her she could do whatever she wanted. Penny would spend the summers swimming in the little ponds that littered the wide open area and then chase butterflies or play with her ball until her daddy came to collect her. In the winter she wouldn't spent a lot of time out there but she would build snow forts and sometimes the guards would even pretend to be dragons trying to attack her. Princess Luna had even come by a few times and give her hot coco!

Today she was exploring the far corner of the garden, as she'd heard one of the guards say they'd seen some sunflowers there the other day and Penny wanted to see if they were really as bright as the sun. Her mommy said that if you were able to look up at a sunflower you could make a wish. Penny wanted to wish for some new books and a ballerina tutu so she could show off for everypony.

Happily trotting around a bush Penny stopped when she saw that, much to her surprise, she wasn't alone in the garden. There was someone else there... someone BIG... and he was sitting next to one of the fountains (it was a favorite of Penny's... it looked like a bunch of fishes leaping into the air squirting water out of their mouths) watching the water's surface with a rather sad look on his face. Penny looked back, wondering if she should go, if she'd stumbled on someone she shouldn't have and needed to leave them alone but the guards weren't rushing to shoo her away so she assumed it was fine that this new arrival was in the garden with her.

"Hello there, little one," the big newcomer rumbled, startling the little filly.

Penny internally debated. Her daddy had said to be careful around strangers but he'd also said she should be polite. She looked at the guards again and seeing that they were still at their posts and could see all that was happening decided that this made the funny looking big pony not a strange at all. "Hi," she said, smiling brightly. "I'm Penny! What's your name?"

"I'm Tydal," the big pony said, standing up to walk over and great her. As he did Penny saw he wasn't a pony at all but some kind of weird goat-fish thingie. She'd never seen anything like him before and her eyes widened in surprise.

"You have a fishy tail!" she cried out.

The magic and innocence of youth saw her able to say those blunt words and only receive a chuckle in response. "Yes, I do," Tydal said, swishing his tail a bit.

"I didn't know goats had fishy tails!" Penny said excitedly.

"That's because I'm not a goat," Tydal told her. "I'm a Capricorn."

"Oh... I'm a pony!" Penny grinned and trotted over to him, offering her hoof. The large Capricorn looked down at her before pressing his huge hoof against her dainty one. "Why are you so big? Are you like the princess?"

"Very much so," Tydal said. "In fact I knew her back when she was smaller than you."

Penny gasped at that. "You must be a billion years old!"

The Capricorn let out a guff. "Something like that." He walked back over to the fountain, Penny, close behind. She scrambled to get up on the lip and after a few moments felt Tydal use his magic to gently ease her up so she could look at the water. "The princess lets you play out here?"

"My daddy works for them. He does stuff in big boring books."

Tydal nodded at that. "I'm sure it is very important, even if it is boring."

"I guess," Penny said, it clear that she didn't agree at all. "You looked sad earlier. Were you sad?"

"Yes," Tydal said, settling down on the ground, his eyes now level with the filly's.

"Why?"

"I lost something," Tydal said.

"Did you look under your bed?" Penny asked innocently. "When I lose things mommy tells me to look under my bed."

"I lost my bed too," Tydal said softly. "Along with a lot of other things."

"Where do you sleep if you don't have a bed?!?" Penny asked. She couldn't wrap her mind around the idea of anyone not having a bed! Where would Mr. Tydal's stuffed animals live?

"The Princesses are letting me live here." He paused, considering his audience. "They let me sleep in one of their beds."

Penny gasped. "You have slumber parties with the princesses?!?"

Tydal laughed at that. "I suppose we do," he said with a grin.

"...why do you have a fishy tail?" Penny asked again.

"Because I can swim under water," Tydal said.

"What's that like?" Penny asked, curious. She'd never even dunked her head under the water, even though her friend Cloud Fluff said it was easy. The thought of someone being able to swim under the water was mind blowing for the little filly.

Tydal stroked his beard. "Well..."

Far away from the Capricorn and the filly Shining Armor watched carefully as the two interacted. "You're sure this is safe?" he asked Celestia. "I heard he scared a lot of ponies in Manehattan. And from what you've told me... and warned me about... capricorns aren't known to be the cuddly sort. I promised Bean Counter that I'd watch over Penny..."

Celestia chuckled. "Do not worry, Captain Armor... Penny Drop is completely safe with my father."

Cadence, who was standing beside her husband, focused on the Capricorn and the filly, her eyes glowing a soft white that hid her pupils and irises. "I've never seen someone feel love so quickly for another." Shining shot her a look and Cadence quickly added, "Protective love. Nothing inappropriate. Not quite the love a parent would feel for their foal but it is close. And..." she shook her head. "It's almost blinding."

"That's my father," Celestia said with a smile. "He's a grumpy old goat but I knew what he needed most of all was someone like Penny. She'll be a balm for his soul, at least for a few hours. Luna is keeping watch over his nightmares but this is what I can do during the day, when the light of my sun shows him the world he’s found himself in once more.”

“Is it really that bad?” Cadence asked.

Celestia shot her a dry look. “My mother, his wife, is still dead. So too my older sisters. His subjects, his entire race… they remain in the afterlife and he is here, driven through the gate by some new terrible threat. One so terrifying it made him frightened.”

“Have you gotten anything out of him about that voice you and Princess Luna heard?” Shining Armor asked. He didn’t like knowing that there was a threat out there he knew nothing about… every time he was caught on the wrong hoof it ended in disaster. Nightmare Moon and Discord (though he couldn’t be blamed for those as he hadn’t been captain of the guard yet). The Changelings (which he’d thought he’d had a handle on and, though he hadn’t seen it that way at the time, it had only been Faith-as-Doubt corrupting Twilight that had saved them from total domination). The Queens. He wanted to understand what they were about to face, to prepare for it, to spare Equestria another apocalypse. “I get he was traumatized-“

“He was dead and, from what we’ve been able to gather, had to literally fight through Tartarus, not of his free will mind you but trying to stop whatever is coming,” Celestia snapped. “If you would like to try that yourself Captain Armor and then give me a detailed report of what you saw only 24 hours later I will gladly accept your challenge!”

“Again, I get he…” Shining almost said ‘something rough’ but had a feeling he’d end up seeing where Princess Luna had lived for a thousand years if he did, “…went through something horrible. And he needs time to heal. But we also need to know what is coming if it is so bad it has rattled him.”

“We will find out soon,” Celestia said. “But I won’t force him to tell me until he is ready.” In a smaller voice she said, “I owe him that much.”

Cadence looked at her, eyes still glowing, and she nearly collapsed after seeing the bonds between Celestia and the old goat. “They’re so thick…”

“He’s my father,” Celestia whispered, watching as Penny laughed at something Tydal said. “Losing Luna was the worst moment of my life in part because she was my last link to him. We are the only two left alive that remember him.” She sighed, shaking her head. “That’s my fault though, I admit that. I should have said more, let ponies know about my youth… but I guarded it and made it my secret.”

“Why?” Shining Armor asked. “Why hide it away?”

“As you’ve seen with Twilight and Faith it is a bad habit of mine,” Celestia said with a bitter laugh. “I hide what I should reveal, thinking the knowledge would be dangerous only to learn later that hiding it did more damage. But by then it is always too late.” The Princess of the Sun shut her eyes. “Not that it would have mattered, I think. It would have been hard for my subjects to accept my childhood.”

“What do you mean?” Cadence asked, staring at her aunt in confusion.

Celestia watched as Tydal focused on the fountain and made some water jump out, forming a small water-pony that danced for a clapping Penny. “You look at Equestria now and see only the good. You were there through the dark times, the trying times, the times of strife and struggle. My little ponies haven’t always embraced harmony. Even today things that are different from them startle them and scare them. If you had only seen how they looked at him in Manehattan…” she trailed off, unable to continue with that line of thought. “But when I first took the throne? Things were so different. So worse. They would never expect that the tyrant king of the capricorns could have been a good father.”

“Tyrant?” Shining asked.

“To them. To me he was a good father… the best a filly could ask for. But that was a part of him ponies didn’t get to see.” She got a far away look in her eye. “Not that they helped in that matter…”

~2,500 Years Ago…~

Sure Sail tried his best to look confident. He made every step he took one of strength and determination. Not cocky, of course, because he wasn’t a fool, but one that let all those that watched him know he felt no fear. His face was passive and his gaze never waivered. He was the very model of solidness and stability. This, despite the fact that inside he was trembling like a leaf.

The large earth pony was used to being in dangerous situations. He’d had to fend for himself when he’d been a colt, his parents selling him off to a merchant sailor when they’d been unable to afford to feed him. His now caretaker/owner had been kind but firm, a rarity Sure Sail knew, and had seen that he lived up to his name and could handle the riggings of a ship better than the full grown stallions that made up the crew. He’d taught Sure much about the ship and the crew, jealous of the attention he got, had taught him to watch his back and to trust only in himself. That was part of the reason why, when the pirates had boarded their ship, Sure had been the first to step up and slit his owner’s throat from ear to ear, pledging himself to the buccaneers and their cause.

He sometimes wondered if the merchant had understood Sure was doing him a favor by granting him a quick death when the pirates would have had no problem gutting him and watching him slowly bleed out. If he didn’t then Sure was sure that, at the very least, the stallion was smiling in the afterlife when he’d killed half the crew after he’d staged a mutiny, sending them below the waves tied to anchors.

Sure Sail had taken his lessons well.

After that he’d captained the ship, made the crew his own, and made a life out of doing all manner of horrid things no ‘good honest pony’ would admit to doing. Oh, they would do it, of course, or at the very least hire him to do it, but they would never admit to it. Prince Gold Touch and Chancellor Cream and Commander Gale Force would never own up to the vile things they and those under them did. They’d sneer at him in public. But when they needed a job done their bits would somehow end up in his pocket.

Yes, Sure Sail ahd been in plenty of dangerous situations and was used to being shoulder-to-shoulder with death. But that didn’t matter a lick when one found themselves the capital of the capricorns, led in chains to the throne room.

Every profession had their own legendary ‘Ye Turn Back Lest Ye Wish Death’ location. He’d heard of pegasus ponies speak of ‘The Eye’, the center of a supposed super storm where a monstrous wind tyrant lived who spent his days torturing any that managed to get through the wall of his storm alive. Traders on land warned of The Forest of Shadows, where ghosts would lure unprepared travelers, who would in turn perish lost in the woods and turn into phantoms themselves. Monfumus, of course, was a place no pony entered… not if they ever wanted to be seen again. But for any that journeyed close to the water, let alone on it, Tydal’s Keep was their whispered nightmare. The capital of the capricorns, the lords and masters of the sea… and the seat of their king.

The throne room was like nothing Sure Sail had ever seen. He’d been to Griffinstone and Griffland, visited Prance and Reinssa, stayed in Draxico and and Saddle Arabia, and all of them, while of different cultures, had a similar design when it came to the homes of their rulers. A grand hall filled with tapestries, rolled out carpets and statues of their rulers. Gold and silver and other precious metals. Opulence and wealth on display for all to see. And the throne… always that massive ornate chair, upon with the royal ass could sit and look down upon those not blessed to have been squirted out of the right female.

The capricorns’ throne room was different. Made entirely of the same sandy-colored stone the rest of the Keep was built off there were no banners or things of cloth detailing the legacy and history of their species. There were no statues of honor that lined the walls. No great glass windows nor paintings on the ceiling depicting their greatest moments. Just a long hall, filled with watching capricorns with tails of brown and blue and gray and black. And at the end of the empty hall sat two simple stone chairs, remarkable only in their size. No adornments and signs of wealth. They were not the chairs of those that longed for comfort but of those that wished to be out of them so they might mingle amongst their subjects, be it in times of peace and war.

And there, sitting upon the plan stone thrones… where Lord Tydal and Lady Merida. The King and Queen.

Lady Merida, Sure Sail could admit, was a striking beauty. Her mane, unlike her subjects, was orangish red and frizzed out from her head like a plume of blood in dark waters. Her scaled flank and tail were also eyecatch, the same orange-crimson as her hair that sparkled when the light hit it. She was no blushing beauty who let others fight her battles; it was clear to all that saw her that this was a female who had killed before and could do so again… and would if called upon.

Beside her sat Lord Tydal, massive and powerful, his shock of green hair and his beard setting him apart from all the rest. He sat in his throne as if it were some great chore and when he looked down upon Sure Sail it with eyes as dark as a midnight storm.

“Who is this that you have brought before me?” the king of the capricorns rumbled.

“The captain of The Soaring Sparrow, my lord,” one of the guards stated. “He is brought to you to face justice for his crimes.”

“I assumed as much,” Lord Tydal said with a snort. “What has he done to earn the honor of entering my hall.”

The guard did not mince words. “He was transporting foals.”

“Foals?” the king murmured. “Whatever for?”

“Tell him,” the guard said, a look of utter disgust on his face. When Sure Sail didn’t say a word the guard flicked his tail at him, the razor-sharp fan blade cutting along his right flank. The stallion hissed in pain but remained quiet. “Tell him!”

“Tell him yourself,” Sure Sail snapped.

“Not so proud of it now, are you?” another guard snarled. He stepped forward and knelt before his king. “Lord Tydal… he was smuggling foals for Griffinstone. It seems the griffins have a new dish that they consider a delicacy…”

There was no need to continue. It was clear to all just what fate awaited the baby ponies that had been in Sure Sail’s hold. The queen of the capricorns started a little before a mask of utter contempt slammed down. As for her husband… the entire Keep trembled as a massive wave suddenly struck it, the only outward sign of his fury.

“My lord… there is more,” the guard said softly.

“…more?” Tydal asked.

“Our attention was first drawn to his vessel when we found a blood trail. It appears, from what we found below and have gathered from the crew, that a sickness had taken hold of the foals. This pony here decided that in the name of preserving profit… to kill the infected.”

The first guard, the one that had lashed out as Sure Sail, growled, “They panicked when we boarded. They were in the middle of their… work… and ‘inspiration’ struck. There are no survivors.”

The Keep shuddered again.

“How were they allowed onto my sea?” Tydal hissed, each word coming out like a vile curse.

Sure Sail stood tall and proud, speaking for the first time. This, he knew, was his only chance. He’d paid a lot of money to get things in order, to get the capricorns stationed at the docks to look the other way, and now he’d need to spin this just right to get out of her with his head attached. “We were allowed to do so but I swear I did not know what was in the hold! If you ask-“

“SILENCE!” Tydal roared, the power of his bellow nearly sending Sure Sail tumbling. “You had your chance to speak,” he snarled, looked down in disgust at the pony before him. “You don’t get to spin your pretty little lines when you were too much of a coward to speak of your deeds in the first place.” He turned to the guard, eyes narrowed. “How… were they allowed… onto MY sea?”

The guard didn’t say a word. Instead he merely turned and motioned for the doors to be opened… and into the great hall walked another capricorn, bond in chains and looking at the ground rather than meet the eyes of any of those gathered before him. Sure Sail felt his heart sink as he looked at the face, the scar along his right eye and the pitch black mane all too familiar to him. He felt his knees knock and tried to force himself to calm down but his heart was racing a mile a minute even as his brain froze and all thought came to a screeching halt.

“What is your name?” Tydal asked.

“Driftwood, mi’lord,” the chained capricorn said hoarsely. “I work on the docks… I’m in charge of inspections.”

“I have asked twice already,” Tydal said darkly, “I will only ask a final time: How were they allowed onto my sea?”

“I… I let them, mi’lord.” The dockworker trembled. “And… I knew of the cargo.”

“Was the first time?”

“…no, mi’lord.”

Tydal took a long, steadying breath, his teeth clicking together as he considered the capricorn before him. “Why?”

“I accepted bribes. They paid me to look the other way.”

“And what have I done to deserve this from you?” Tydal asked softly but firmly. “Have I not been a good king? Have I not provided for you all? When you are sick do I need see to your care? When you are in need do I not give of myself and all I have? Have I ever ruled unfairly? Demanded more of you than I would do myself? What have I done that would see you take a bribe and cast shame upon our kind with this… barbarism?”

“Nothing, mi’lord,” the dockworker whispered, his breath coming out in harsh gasps. “I was greedy. I thought only of my self! To get more! They offered me so much and I didn’t see the harm-“ Tydal slammed his hooves down and the chained capricorn shook like a leaf in a strong gale. “Please… have mercy mi’lord. I have sinned against you. Have mercy.”

Tydal looked upon the trembling wretch and Sure Sail was startled to see pity in the old goat’s eyes. It was clear he was searching for something and within seconds Sure Sail knew what it was and wanted to laugh. The King of the Sea was looking for a way out of this! He was looking for a way to spare his subject! Sure Sail felt his heart beat faster but now out of joy rather than fear. There was a chance! A way out of this! The king of the capricorns could be influenced; one could play on his soft heart and wiggle out of danger if they knew just what to do. All Sure Sail needed was a moment, a chance to throw himself at the king’s mercy-

“Where are they?” Tydal asked, cutting off Sure Sail’s thoughts of escape. “The foals?”

“We brought them to one of the quiet rooms, my lord,” the second guard said. “To prepare them for burial. We knew… we knew you’d want that.”

Tydal stood up and moved away from his throne. “Show me,” he whispered. The dockworker and Sure Sail both stared at the king in shock and the guards too clearly didn’t know what they should do. “Show me,” he repeated, walking past the trembling captive and the confused pony. “Bring them with us.” The guards nodded and Sure Sail found himself being shoved forward, Lady Merida rushing to join her husband. She whispered something to him as they left the throneroom but Tydal did not answer nor did he even look her away. Instead he continued walking, his focus entirely on what waited for him.

For Sure Sail it felt like hours but it was, in reality, only minutes before they entered the ‘quiet room’. Capricorn females, wearing dark blue cloaks and with veils over their faces, stepped away from the bodies they had been preparing, bowing to their king before stepping aside. The guards forced Sure Sail and Driftwood into the room and shut the door, leaving them sealed inside with the king, the queen, and the twenty five little bodies laid out on the hard cool stone.

Tydal slowly walked along the rows of lifeless babies, sometimes pausing to raise a hoof and run it along a brow. There was a mix of all three tribes and the king of the capricorns took his time to seemingly engrain each one in his mind. He would stare at some, others he would nudge or nuzzle with his snout, and a few unicorn foals had their horns gently pressed to his forehead. He walked along the rows, the guards standing still, watching while the queen clearly fought to maintain her composure. The most striking thing to Sure Sail was the silence. Lord Tydal didn’t make a sound save for the click of his hooves against the ground and the sailor found that worse than if the old goar had raged and bellowed. That he could have handled; but to have one so quiet? That was the most terrifying thing of all.

Finally, after looking upon the last two bodies, which had been covered by black cloths that he refused to move, the king of the capricorns looked at Sure Sail and Drift Wood and the sailor understood. He had been right… the king had a soft heart. So he’d come down to look at the lifeless foals to kill what mercy he might have had. He had stomped it down until any fires of compassion had been rendered cold.

He motioned for them to follow the once more they made a long trek, this time back to the throne room. The crowd never said a word as their king and queen returned to their thrones to once more look down upon those brought to face their justice.

“Driftwood,” Tydal rumbled. “You will be sent to Longtrench. There you will stay… your days of work over. Never again will you be asked to aid another. Never again will you know what it is like to labor over a task. Never again will you stand on the line and face down a foe in battle. Never again will you face death and see if the Maker favors you. No more will you stand with my soldiers, your brothers and sisters in battle. You will stay in Longtrench.”

If Sure Sail was confused by the sentence Driftwood flinging himself to the ground and sobbing perplexed him even more.

“Please… please don’t,” Driftwood whispered.

“You will have food brought to you; never again will you hunt for your supper.”

“Let me make this up to you!” the chained capricorn sobbed. “Let me wash away my crimes.”

“Your family will be told of where you are. I will not stop them from seeing you, should they wish. They will see you… as I see you now. As all will see you.”

The dockworker screamed, “Kill me! Anything but this! Just kill me!” he continued to repeat it, a mantra, until the words flowed together and became inarticulate sobs. And still the king continued on.

“You will receive treatment for any illness, no matter how severe. I will make it known to our doctors that you are to be kept in the best of health. The only pain you shall know… is that of your shame. The shame that all will know of.” Driftwood flinched and Tydal narrowed his eyes. With utter coldness he whispered, “Driftwood… may you live forever.”

The chained capricorn broke down, the guards forced to carry him away as he sobbed in grief.

And then Lord Tydal’s gazed turned upon Sure Sail and the sailor found that it was possible for Tartarus to exist in the eyes of a living creature. Each step he took, the click-click-click of his hooves, sounded more like war drums in Sure Sail’s ears. He craned his neck up to stare at the massive capricorn and fought with all his strength not to begin hyperventilating. He’d thought that before, in the throne room, had been the worst of it but to feel the monster’s hot breath upon his face, to sense his gaze upon him as he judged him and found him wanting… it almost made Sure Sail wither right there.

Except he didn’t.

He refused to.

“Why?” Tydal asked, his voice like the sea echoing in a rocky cave upon some storm-battered shore.

Fear was such an odd thing. Sure Sail had seen it turn the bravest ponies into cowards… and make those that whimpered at their own shadow discover they had ice water flowing through their veins. He was the latter it seemed as he found himself saying, mockingly, “Why did I bring this shame upon you?”

One of the guards hissed in displeasure and moved to strike him only for Tydal to raise a hoof, forstalling the blow. He looked down at Sure Sail, showing no outward signs that he’d comprehended the mocking tone. “To hell with shame. Why have you done this? Why take these foals and end their lives so cruelly.”

“You think I took them like a thief in the night, sneaking into nurseries and snatching them away as their mothers cried out?” Sure Sail scoffed. “I was given them.”

“By who?” Tydal asked, his tone almost curious.

“All many of ponies,” Sure Sail replied, smugly. He enjoyed being able to inform the mighty King of the Mareatine about just how little of the world he understood. With every word he spoke he found himself growing bolder, his confidence returning as he forced truth into the capricorn’s ears. “Some just couldn’t afford to feed’em. Others got in the wrong way, if you understand me, and needed to ditch the foal. Some are orphans who had no where else to go. Hell… a few ponies make squirting them out a living.” He grinned. “You think so many hold what you believe as proper as truth… but the fact of the matter is that the world is a cruel place for those of us that weren’t blessed with your wealth and power… so we do what we must. Can you really punish me for doing what so many do? Even if I’m gone there will be others.”

Tydal considered him for a long while.

“But there will be less of your filth,” he finally proclaimed. “The sentence is death.”

All the bravado leaked from him. It was as if someone had pulled a cork and like wine from a tipped bottle all his confidence spilled down on the ground and left him empty.

“You… you have no right!” he shouted, retreating to the final bastion of hope that he had.

“I have every right,” Tydal said dryly, “I am the Sea”. The guard that so loved to abuse Sure Sail struck him in the front legs, at the back of the knee, and forced him to kneel. Lord Tydal looked upon the sailor in disgust. “For your… crime…” it was as if calling what Sure Sail had done a ‘crime’ was an insult to criminals everywhere, “you and your entire crew, from the first mate to the lowest deck hoof, will be tied to stakes left in the surf. They will be placed neck deep at low tide, turned towards you, only chest deep, who will be chained to your own personal stake. They will watch you as the water slowly rises; inching upwards and upwards until it covers them completely, filling their lungs till their last breaths are not of air but of MY sea. Their last sight will be you… given a few more moments of life than they were. Their last thoughts hatred of their captain. You, on the over hoof, will watch them die, seeing what fate awaits you. Your body will be covered in fish guts… all the better to attract crabs and other carrion eaters who will so enjoy biting and tearing at your flesh. It won’t kill you… it will just hurt… very much. Your death will come at the peek of high tide.” Tydal paused before barking to one guard and his eyes glowed. “Inform the dock workers to send warning to all ships… I sense a change upon the waters. This will be a slow tide… one that will take days instead of hours to reach the high mark.”

Confidence was gone. Bravado too. But fear did not replace them. Instead it was its brother, its dark twin anger, that blossomed in Sure Sail’s heart. He lunged at the king of the capricorns but Tydal didn’t even flinch, instead merely allowing his guards to haul him back. Foam formed on his lips as he ranted, “You think you’re better than us!? That somehow you are better blessed than all of ponykind and that gives you the right to look down upon us?!? IS THAT IT?!?”

“I do not think,” Tydal answered, turning his back to him as if he were nothing more than a pile of seawood that had floated near him. “I merely need to look at you to know.”

Sure Sail cursed. “BUCK OFF! You think you’ll always be in charge? You think your kind will always be on top! You won’t be! The day is coming when we ponies stop bowing and scraping to your lot! We’ll put you back in your place and take up the mantle of rulers of this world! You hear me! Your time in power is coming to an end!”

“Maybe. But not today. And not before you die.” To his guards he shouted, “Chain him up! And when he’s finally gone send his bones and those of his crew to the pony tribes, split them up if you have to, and let this serve as my only warning: If I catch another pony befoul my seas like this again I’ll show them that what they have thought has been anger all these years has merely been the tantrum of a child compared to what I will bring upon them! CHAIN HIM NOW!”

Had Sure Sail somehow managed to convince the guards to let him say he would have seen a rather curious sight: the great and mighty Lord Tydal, scourge of countless battlefields, the bloodletter and The Teeth in the Darkness... look mournfully through the doorway at the little still bodies laid out in the silent room.

"Don't dwell on it, my love," Merida whispered, nuzzling him. "You can do no more."

"How?" Tydal whispered, tears suddenly stinging his eyes. "How could they do this? To their own young?"

"Ponies are cruel and savage," one of the Quiet Sisters, the preparers of the dead, said gently as the rest of her coven entered the room to continue their work. "They are a selfish race, prone to greed and a desire to have more than what is their station. And those that achieve all their desires find that they still want more. There is no sense of friendship or harmony in their ranks, I'm afraid."

Tydal just shook his head. "The griffins hired them, I know that, so they are to blame in part... and believe me, their king and I will have… words-“ his eyes flashed at that and the skies rumbled, reminding all what had happened the last time Tydal and the King of Griffinstone had talked, when he had ripped control of the storms from him, “about this. But even the most vile of griffins would never sell a chick off to be slaughtered like a common steer!" He shut his eyes in pain and remorse. "And it happened on my waters."

"But it isn't your fault," Merida said, forcing him to turn and face her. "Tydal, look at me. It isn't your fault." The king nodded at long last but all, including himself, knew that he was lying to them and still placed the burden of what had happened squarely on his shoulders. Merdia waited for several moments before saying, "I'm proud of how you handled Driftwood."

"You're proud I have shamed him?"

"I'm proud that you didn't let your heart stop you from what you knew was right and just. He had to be punished."

"...you are the strong one, you know that?" Tydal whispered. "It should be you that rule, not I."

"I more easily harden my heart," Merida said. "But you open yours to your subjects and that makes you more worthy than any to rule."

Tydal let out a huff. "Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't just step aside. I've been king since our kind first established order." His eyes became unfocused and for a moment he remembered the savage underwater battle where he had bested the tyrant Cancar. He could taste the blood in the water, hear the shock of the other capricorns that he, a mere warrior of low rank, no different from any other member of the rank and file, had managed to defeat the barbarian warlord who sought to dominate all... and then the heat and the light that had burst from his heart. It had been blinding, even for him, but when it ended he found his frame enlarged so that he was a giant amount his kind. He'd felt new strength, new power... and then his magic had, for lack of any other word, twisted so that suddenly he was the ocean and the ocean was him. That was the day he had ascended, rendered an immortal, master of the seas. And then the murmur had started until all capricorns, no matter their side, had bowed to him. That was the day the Capricorn Nation had been born. The day he had become King.

"And you remain king because our subjects love you," Merida said firmly. "They look upon how so many other nations suffer chaos and turmoil and thank the Maker that you are here to keep control over it all. Never doubt that, my love."

Tydal let out a short huff but managed a tiny smile. "I find myself getting melancholy in my old age."

"You are excused when darkness such as this comes to our door." Merida shook her head in disgust. "I wanted to kill him the moment I heard the guard speak. How you restrained yourself after seeing all this," she waved at the quiet room and the sill forms within.

"That reminds me," Tydal said, turning towards the Quiet Sister. "Why make it appear as if there are twenty five bodies when there are only twenty three?" Merida started at that and Tydal tapped his nose. "You didn't get close enough to them... I could smell death of all but the two covered ones. Those were fakes."

The Quiet Sister bowed her head. "I ask for your forgiveness, my king. When you see though why we did such a ruse you will thank us. Please, come with me." Tydal and Merida shared a look and followed the Quiet Sister as she walked away from the quiet room and led them down the hall opposite the way they had originally come. After about ten minutes and two flights of stairs upwards they came to a non-descript door in the servants quarters. The Quiet Sister knocked and the door opened a crack to spy who was there. Spotting the king the nanny within bowed before opening the door, motioning for them to hurry inside. "We kept it hidden because we did not know what your judgment would be. The traitor would not have spoken a word had he learned but that pony? If he had lived he would have revealed all to one of the tribe leaders, if not all three, and we could not risk that."

"Risk what?" Merida asked, looking about the room...

...before both she and her husband spotted the stone cradle, the one that their daughters Misty and Coral had used when they'd been little, sitting in the corner.

"Them discovering that two survived," the Quiet Sister finished.

Tydal stepped forward, eyes wide as he approached the cradle. He looked down, shaking his head slightly at the two tiny forms that slept within. Each was swaddled in a deep red blanket, with only their little faces and horns poking out for him to see. One's coat was as white as ice with a mane streaked with pink and blue. The other, her twin sister, had a coat of midnight blue with a lighter blue mane that curled around her horn. The ivory foal opened her eyes for just a moment, then smacked her lips together before drifting back to sleep. Tydal looked at the tiny ponies and instantly felt a deep connection to them. It wasn't love at first sight, as many parents experienced. This was something grander, something mystical. It was as if a cord had suddenly been lassoed around his horn, the other end wrapped tightly around each of the twins' horns. He'd only felt this connect a few times before.

He'd felt it when Cancar's sister had marched into his throne room, her uncle in chains, and publically declared that he had tried to convince her to kill Tydal in his sleep. She'd refused and swore that her brother was a fool and by her hoof she would redeem her family's name. There had been a flash light and a surge of magic and where once had stood a normal Capricorn nanny there stood then an ascended like himself, strong and powerful.

Years later, when that same nanny had given birth to their twin daughters, Tydal had felt a hint of that connection only for it to fully form when his girls had ascended during their 17th year.

And now he felt it again.

The nurse who'd stood guard over the two whispered, "The ponies didn't know what they had. These two are young... only a few days old. Their parents probably killed and they stolen away. The trauma... their survival was a miracle-"

"Indeed," Tydal answered as the blue coated twin grunted and kicked, wiggling free of the swaddling to reveal her tiny wings, the fluffy appendages flittering for a moment before she began to whimper, deciding she liked her blankie. Tydal quietly used his magic to wrap her back up before looking at Merida, staring at her own shocked eyes.

"Ascended ponies," Merida whispered. "We'd wondered... we'd wondered for years when one of their kind might go beyond their nature and become something... more. But two? And foals?" She swallowed hard. "Those two will start wars. Each of the tribes would sacrifice anything to gain control of them and indoctrinate them into their tribal mindset. Can you not see it? These two, told that Earth ponies are the mightiest and the others must be brought low? Or unicorns deserve to rule? Or pegasi? And that's assuming they aren't killed to ensure the status quo."

"Could they be killed?" The Quiet Sister asked. "They survived that vile sailor."

"I imagine that was more luck than anything," Tydal stated. "Even an ascended can die." He got a faraway look once more as he remembered a long fought battle. “I should know…”

Merida's mind was a whirl with possible futures, however, and she paid little heed to her husband's dark comments. "With their own kind they would be taught hatred and bigotry. But... perhaps if they were raised outside of those negative influences..." She began to pace. "If they were taught our ways... of honor and justice and how a good ruler must make mighty that which is right and not make right only that which is mighty..." She shook her head, a smile forming on her lips. "IF they were given a true chance to overcome their pony nature... then perhaps, when it did come time for them to accept their fate they would be able to in turn teach their subjects the same lessons they learned. The pony race would change from the feuding species it is now and become something noble." She turned quickly. "Tydal! Could we-"

She stopped, seeing that while she'd worked through the issue her husband had gathered the two foals up, each held up by his magic, a bottle lifted for each to suckle on.

"Could we?" Tydal asked with a happy laugh. "I was about ready to beg you!"

Merida, happy tears in her eyes, walked over to her husband and the little foals, glancing over at the Quiet Sister and the nurse. "We will watch over them for now. Thank you for all you have done." The two nodded and left, the king and queen cooing at the little ones. "Welcome to our lives, my little sun and moon."

"My dear little princesses.”

"Our new treasures."

Tydal smiled, instantly knowing what to call the two. "Celeatia and Luna."