The doors of the crystal foyer rebounded off the walls as Electra forced her way through. In the brief interval, a chorus of shouts and songs haunted her passage, but she kept her gaze focused on the floor. They’d be drowned out once the doors closed, she thought. No sound got through those doors.
Briefly, the noise rose in volume and the tap of sapphire horseshoes echoed around her.
“Electra,” said the voice in exasperation.
Despite herself, Electra skidded to a halt and slid round as she did so. Even now, she couldn’t ignore the princess.
“Your Highness!” She bowed curtly. “They’re all around the palace!”
“They interrupted the communal feast to be here,” said Cadence with a glare. “Shining Armour is addressing them at the moment. To be frank, I’m not sure what you were expecting when you took him in.”
“But why should they care? I mean,” Electra added quickly, “with all due respect, I did not ask them to demonstrate. They should be making merry at the feast, so why are they here?”
Princess Cadence’s dress was crinkled and moist around the puffs. One or two hairs were out of place in a mane piled high with plaits and gems, and there was a suggestion of heaviness around the eyelids. Yet, Electra was still aware of how much she had to crane her neck to look her princess in the eye.
“These aren’t the olden days of the Empire anymore,” Cadence said. “You may have been allowed to arrest whomever you liked a thousand years ago –”
Whatever I liked, Electra thought. Do not dignify that thing with a “who”.
“– but it doesn’t work like that today, and the other crystal ponies know it. So long as I am your princess, the Crystal Empire will do things peacefully and with due respect to all creatures.”
Electra took off her crystal wide-brimmed hat, and wiped her forehead with the back of her hoof. “I fear I may never understand you, Your Highness.”
Hastily, she rammed the hat back over her ears and hurried over to the next set of double doors. Not entirely to her surprise, she heard the steady steps of Cadence behind her, and even a flutter of broad wings.
“You insist on seeing this through?” Cadence’s voice was level.
“I will see to it he gets a fair try,” said Electra. And then once that’s done, I’ll string him up by the claws. “Your Majesty, I assure you that no mare has memorized the Vestiad runes with more commitment than I have.”
They trotted in silence along the crystal corridor. Electra burned from the pit of her stomach to her crystalline ears, but as they walked beneath ornamental stalactites and chandeliers, the chill of the place seemed to be creeping upon her.
These weren’t the olden times, she remembered. The olden times were a thousand years ago.
“Princess?” She stopped suddenly.
Cadence carried on a little further before she noticed and turned to look. “Yes?”
Electra, torn between a frown and… something else, found herself staring at the wall beside them. Thousands of etchings had been made into it, so small that an eyelash could be fixed into place within them. Names ran from the far end of the corridor on their right to the far end of the corridor on their left.
“Ah, the names on the wall,” said Cadence. Even in the subdued cold, she had a flicker of warmth in her voice that made Electra think of a young teacher seeing a foal’s handiwork. “It’s the finest of the crystal arts. I’ve passed this wall several times, and I never thought to ask what the names were for.”
“Yes, I can imagine,” said Electra. The words were tensed like violin strings.
They stood there for a long moment.
Electra made no sign of any interruption when she broke into her quick march. Cadence had to canter to catch up as they pushed through another set of double doors into a round chamber.
“I always make a note of stopping at the names,” said Electra. “They were etched there long ago.”
“Yes, but –”
“Ah, they’re already here!”
Cadence almost walked into the back of Electra. The chamber was empty of other ponies, but three plinths stood guard between them and a final set of double doors. Dusting herself off, Cadence hastily looked at the engravings under each. An empty scabbard lay on top of the leftmost plinth, and a set of scales lay on top of the rightmost one.
“I see they took the sword and the blindfold,” said Electra, more to herself than to Cadence. “Very well. I prefer scales, anyway.”
“I appreciate this is not brilliant timing,” said Cadence, while Electra removed her hat and reached for the scales, “but what is so important about the names on the wall?”
Electra’s hoof weighed heavily with the scales balanced on it, and for the first time, a flicker crept into her mind. A chill.
I’m ignoring my own ponies. And now I’m ignoring my own princess.
“What am I doing this for?” she whispered.
“I’m sorry?” said Cadence.
This is modern Equestria, she thought. And it feels… different.
“I beg your pardon, Your Highness.” Electra placed the scales across her back and pointed to her exposed mane. “You see this laurel wreath, Your Highness?”
“It’s a wonderful decoration.”
Electra winced. “It has a history behind it.”
Her mother guided the laurels onto Electra’s crown, biting her tongue in that curious way adults did when they wanted to look focused. Once or twice, she had to hold her daughter still to stop her dancing on the spot.
“Don’t you ever go outside without those on again, you hear?” said her mother to the foal, and Electra received a warning tap on her nose.
“Yes, mother!” she said quickly. Her words were as jittery as her hooves.
“They’re very important. Never take off those laurels under any circumstances, understood?”
“Never take off laurels! Very important!”
“We gave them to that baby of six years back for a reason, didn’t we?”
“Yes, mother!”
“And the reason was…?” Her mother leaned against the broom, half-suspicious, half-amused.
“To protect me from all the things that would want to harm the Light Within Me!”
“Good girl. Now, get outside with you, you tearaway. Mother’s got cleaning to –”
She’d barely finished when the foal vanished out of the murky crystal kitchen and into the blazing white of the sun.
Vast bushes surged from one end of the plot to the other, smacking head-first into the slab of crystal that fenced them in. She rushed past wave after wave of sharp, angular leaves, and she could hear the pounding of her own hooves against the baked earth as puffs of dirt tanned her underside. The air out here not only filled her nose and lungs, but washed them clean and fresh.
Somewhere nearby was a rustling of angry branches. She turned down an aisle and almost collided with her father’s sack.
“Whoa there, girl,” said a deep, booming voice above her, and a hoof placed itself gently between her and the burlap. “It ain’t time to make crystal berry jam yet.”
Electra panted on the spot for a while before she could even speak, let alone speak coherently. “I can help! I can help!”
“Well, mare’s sakes! Hold yourselves a second, will you?” He chuckled under his wide-brimmed hat and held out a flap of burlap for her. “Get here next to me and pick a few, there’s a good girl.”
“Got it!” The burlap whooshed past him.
“And do it slowly.” He shook his head at the ground. “May the Emperor help this plot of land the day you take it over,” he added, not quite in an undertone.
Electra blushed and let the sack flop beside her. “I won’t be that bad. I promise.”
“Ah, I know you won’t. Pop’s just kidding around.”
They stood side by side, Electra’s father plucking the berries with swollen hooves, and Electra herself pecking them off and almost spitting them into the bag. She paused once or twice to lick her haunches, which flared white where the sun caught the facets.
She tried to ignore her father when she did this, but when he dumped a hat over her eyes, she merely pushed it up and kept plucking berries. Thank you, father, she thought.
“Still, you’ve got a lot of learning to do before then.” Her father paused to inspect a berry, and then got out an eyepiece to examine its lustre. “Your mother’s been teaching you history this week, right?”
“Yep,” she said around the berry in her mouth. She spat it out. “I know all the kings and all the emperors who ever ruled the Empire!”
Her father snorted at the berry and tossed it aside. “Ah, so you know about the Transition, do you?”
“Test me! Test me!”
“Well, uh, I don’t know what exactly you’ve been taught yet. Mother might not have –”
“Test me, pleeeeaaaase!” Electra’s front hooves pressed into his side, barely ruffling the fur. He gave a chuckle when the hat flopped over her eyes again.
“OK, then, Little Miss Smarty Pants.” His face struggled to hide the grin. “Let’s see what you know. And keep picking berries. Granny needs her jam.”
Dutifully, Electra turned her attention back to the hedgerow.
“OK, so who was the last king when the emperors took over?” her father said.
“King Sparkle the Ruby-Eyed!”
“Good. And when the emperor replaced him, he had trouble, didn’t he? On account of all the ponies sympathetic to the king, I mean. So –”
“So he set up the Crystal Faire!”
“That’s right. To –”
“Show his goodwill towards the citizens!”
“Criminy, Electra! Let me finish! So this emperor who replaced the king was called…?”
“Emperor Jet.”
“Good.”
They paused and shuffled further along the row, dragging their sacks as they went. Electra, now at the very end of the row, happened to glanced across to the next one around the hedge, and frowned.
“And the horti… horti… hold on a sec, honey… horticultural committee was called in to make the court system better when they tried the king,” continued her father. “You remember that story?”
“Father, why’s there a hole in the ground?” Electra said suddenly.
She turned to look at him.
Her father frowned and walked around her to look. There was a long silence.
“And the berries are all gone, too,” she said at last. She began to shrink away from her father. “Uh…”
Her father breathed out heavily. “Get back inside.”
“What? Why?”
“Don’t argue! Just get back inside.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Her father pointed to the paw prints in the dirt. “Fresh tracks. They might still be here.”
A low chuckle seemed to rise up from the hole. Electra felt a chill down her spine; it was as if cold spirits were floating past her, testing her soul with caresses.
“What is that…?” she said, feeling the choke in her voice as she backed away.
Her father held her gaze for a second, and even in the direct sunlight, his brow was dark and knifelike.
“Diamond dogs,” he said. "Raidin' party. Don't stop for nothin'."
Even as he spoke, grey shapes shot out of the hole and he almost tripped over his own hooves to back away.
Electra screamed and threw herself into a gallop. Barking, yapping, shouting beasts followed behind her, and her father galloped beside her, his hooves thundering and cracking the hard earth.
"Lots of little gems for us!" cried out a raspy voice. "Pretty ponies very good at making gems! Won't you come and show us how it's done?"
A chorus of guffaws mixed with the howling and shrieking. Electra wanted to run out of her own skin. She could feel their hot breath on her flanks and tried to kick a little earth behind her. Snorts of rage followed.
Her father and she turned a corner and fled down the aisles, the bushes whooshing past, when her head suddenly felt light. She spun around, and her hat hit the floor.
"My laurels!" She yanked her body around, twisting her throat and making her stomach strain with bile before stretching her limbs and sinews to breaking point for the hat. "Mother'll kill me!"
"Electra, what the hay!?"
"I can't leave the laurels behind!" Her teeth clenched around the laurels just as a pair of jet eyes appeared before her.
"ELECTRA!"
A muzzle dripping with slobber and snot and overhanging lips contorted into a sneer.
"Pretty pony make gems for us!" It reached out with a claw that was far too big; it could have grabbed her entire head in one tight squeeze.
"ELECTRA!"
The paw snatched.
Electra nearly burst with effort as she ran for the door. The dog snarled and threw aside her crushed hat just as she leaped over the threshold and the door slammed the world out.
She panted, letting the laurels slip out and hit the floor with a smack. Her father swelled before her.
"Electra, you crazy girl!"
She couldn't breathe for the fur crushing her, and took in a smell of sweat. Her father was burning, and shaking, and she didn't know whether he was going to collapse on her or pick her up and look her in the eye.
"Don't ever, EVER let me ever catch you doin' somethin' so darned foalish! You hear me?"
"But the laurels," she mumbled into his fur. Her heart was sinking at his voice, but she couldn't wrap her juvenile head around the fact that he was still hugging her tight to his chest. "Mother said the laurels..."
None of them spoke for a while. Outside, the dogs howled and guffawed, and there were ripping sounds as of branches breaking.
"Give them time," said her mother. Her voice was firm, but Electra thought she could hear a wobble. "They can't get in here. They'll take what they want, and then go."
"I got my laurels," said Electra to the wreath in her hooves as though defying it to prove her wrong. "To protect me. Like you said, mother. To protect the Light Within Me."
"And that's very good of you," said her mother stiffly, "but don't you dare try something like that again."
Electra rubbed her eyes and stared over her father's shoulder at her mother. "Why not? If the laurels were gone, then the Light Within Me wouldn't be protected!"
Her mother's hoof hit the floor hard. "You need to be protected first! When will you pay attention to what you're told?"
"But I did pay attention to what I was told! You said I shouldn't lose my laurels!"
"I told you not to go outside without those laurels on. I didn't say risk your life for them! When will you pay attention to the rules we set down? They're there for a reason!"
"Pretty ponies can't hide forever!" shouted the dog outside.
Everypony fell silent. There was a thud on the door, but it stayed solid.
"One day, we catch you for pretty crystals, and then you're ours forever! Maybe we catch little one, or maybe we catch big one! But you got to run away lots of times! We only have to catch you once!"
Electra closed her eyes and buried her face in her father's fur. "To protect me, to protect me, to protect me. Like you said, mother! The laurels protect me."
Electra fumbled with the scales as she made to push the grand doors apart. Behind her, Cadence bowed her head.
“I’m sorry if I offended you,” said Cadence. “I didn’t know it was so important to your family.”
Electra didn’t turn around, but she broke off from pushing the door and touched her laurels with a hoof. “Your judgement was understandable, Your Highness,” she said in a dead voice. “I am honoured that you think them beautiful.”
A glow from Cadence’s horn, and the double doors swung open.
Electra strode up the steps to a podium, and looked upon the candlelit circle in the pit below. Two other ponies stood either side of her, each rearing up to brace their hooves against their respective podiums. As one, they nodded to each other.
“Obsidian,” she said to the stallion on her right. He opened his mouth, and the sword clattered on the rough marble.
“Quartz,” she said to the mare on her left. She had lowered her hooves, and in the fiery flicker, the silken blindfold gleamed like polished silver.
“And Electra,” she said. Her forelegs gently eased their movements as she placed the scales onto the plinth before her, carefully angling them so that her view of the pit would not be impeded. Just as it says in the Vestiad, she thought.
Behind them, Cadence spread her wings and rose to the highest podium overlooking the others. Electra wondered if the last emperor had enjoyed the view, and if Cadence could feel a thousand years of history watching her.
The doors slammed, and the only light now came from the candles in the pit. They all peered down at the chair in the middle.
“Court is now in session,” said Cadence. Electra frowned at the wobble in her voice.
There was a whimper from the pit. The diamond dog looked like it had been rolling in the mud, and in the mass of matted fur and dried earth, a pair of jaundiced eyes stared and widened up at them. Its underbite gave it a look of bold resignation, as though it was offering its chin up to the world.
“Diamond dog,” said Cadence gently. Her voice echoed as though in a cathedral, and the dog's shoulders seemed to relax in the presence of this angelic voice. “Do you know why you are here?”
The dog’s pupils darted from pony to pony. It’s looking for a way out, thought Electra. Her lip curled.
“Answer the question,” she hissed.
“I don’t know!” rasped the diamond dog. “I didn’t do nothing!”
“Just say ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”
The dog swallowed. “N-No! I say no!”
With a jolt, Electra realized she’d spoken out of turn, and she craned her neck round to check, but Cadence seemed at a loss as to how to respond. The princess decided instead to encourage the dog with a small smile.
“Do you have a name?” she asked politely.
“Mn,” said the dog. “I-I mean, yes! Pack calls me Moat’s Art.”
“Well, Moat’s Art,” said Cadence, leaning forwards. “You are here to answer charges brought upon you by citizens of the Crystal Empire. The plaintiff –” Cadence whispered something, but shook herself and continued “ – the plaintiff, in the tradition of the olden crystal council, would like to try you with two impartial co-judges, along with either the emperor – I mean, the princess – or a representative of the princess who will oversee the council. May the plaintiff please rise and speak to the court.”
Electra had been nodding to herself throughout the speech, but at Cadence’s whispering, she bristled. "Not how they did it in Canterlot"?
She glared down at the thing in the pit. A foul smell of wet fur and warm compost stung her nostrils.
“In the venerable tradition of the council,” she said, “I shall bring forth the charge against you. Diamond dog, hereby dubbed the accused... or Moat’s Art," she added quickly, "I lay down before you the following charge; several hours before the Annual Jousting Tournament was to begin at Gimlet Stadium, you were seen entering the Crystal Empire’s territory and walking along Amethyst Avenue –”
“I didn’t mean to do nothing!” The chair gave a lurch as the dog struggled against its bonds. “Moat’s Art from the Wolfgang clan nearby! Moat’s Art wanted to say peace to the pretty ponies!”
“You were seen entering the Crystal Empire.” Electra’s voice swelled to overshadow him. “You had a pawful of stolen olives on you.”
“Olives not stolen! I brought olives to town, grown by our clan! Olives are a peace offering!”
You dirty liar. There’s nothing but snow and ice beyond the empire, and the only olive plantations out here are ours. You couldn’t even grow a wart without a guidebook, and that’s after you’re taught how to read. “The bigger issue is that you entered the Crystal Empire illegally. Diamond dogs were outlawed from the empire’s territory a thousand years ago. You trespassed on our land, and in so doing, you have sullied the streets and spat upon our laws and customs!”
“Excuse me, Electra, but I believe Obsidian would like to speak,” said Cadence.
Electra blinked and noticed her colleague’s hoof was up. His neck was twisted and his foreleg nearly growing in his effort to get Cadence’s attention.
The princess didn’t use the correct terms! She's supposed to call him Bearer of the Sword! With a clearing of her throat, Electra drowned out the thought hastily.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” he said in a trembling voice, and hastily bowed at the knees. “With all due respect, Bearer of the Scales –”
He’s worried, Electra thought suddenly. She stared at Obsidian as though seeing him for the first time. Why is he worried?
“– the law was never codified by the emperor a thousand years ago.”
“It was only ever an informal custom of the horticulturalists,” said Quartz. Despite the blindfold, her brow was creased and she seemed to be sharing a wary glance with Obsidian. “The charge of trespass isn’t technically illegal.”
Electra felt a flicker of worry creep up inside her. But I could have sworn I’d read the Vestiad enough times. How can I think there’s a law there if there wasn’t? She could hear the other two arguing to each other how the custom was laid down, or at least giving opinions and checking them against each other with faintly worried looks.
Moat's Art was silently watching the pair as they spoke. Look at him down there, Electra thought. Breathlessly waiting for his reprieve while we bicker amongst ourselves. Darned bleeding hearts!
She glanced up nervously at Cadence. Stop thinking like that! she thought. The old king always knew what ponies thought, and he was just a unicorn. The princess might know too.
Aha…
Electra spoke as loudly as she dared. “Then I invoke the ancient legal practice of vox populi, vox legalis, and insist that the custom, though informal in its origin and practice, nevertheless constitutes, by dint of popular acquiescence to its code, a valid law against which anyone within the empire’s bounds can be tried.”
The others had fallen silent, and were not looking at her. Her hooves itched to kick them. The cowards! They want him to get off! I don't believe it. Have they forgotten already what it was like a thousand years ago?
“Furthermore,” she said a little too loudly, “as there was plenty of occasion to invoke this law when it first formulated, it is thereby valid unto the present.”
The other two turned to Cadence. Moat’s Art had been staring at the princess for quite a while, and Electra seethed at the sight of his moistening eyes. So this beast was trying to wordlessly talk over her own head. Worse, he’d smelled a weak link in the Princess herself.
Electra felt a cold stab in her heart as she watched the pink face contort with worry. Don’t buy into his lies, princess. Please, I'm begging you. You have no idea what they can do…
“I cannot confirm or deny what the Vestiad says on the issue,” said Cadence, and her apologetic smile melted away. “However, if a law like that works only if the ponies agree to it as a whole, then I think it doesn’t apply today. Go outside, and you’ll see plenty of ponies who take a different view to the issue of diamond dogs.”
No! Electra glanced back at the grinning diamond dog in the pit. Not again! I can’t let it happen again!
“The Vestiad marks it as binding!” she lied. “The diamond dog… The d… The accused… The…”
She simmered under the four stares, and she felt her stomach squirming in agony, and threatening to die. Do they know? she thought. Quartz and Obsidian must have studied the Vestiad too.
A wipe of her brow wasn’t enough. She wanted to wipe this all off her mind.
“Moat’s Art doesn’t want to make trouble,” said the diamond dog in a strained voice.
For a while, Electra reeled as though someone had just spat in her face. In the heat of her dispute with her own princess, she'd almost forgotten the diamond dog could speak.
He was whimpering.
Electra clenched her teeth at the display, and remembered her parents shivering with fear all those years ago. How dare you, you underhanded little demon!
“Then I make one last appeal!” She almost lunged across the podium, knocking the scales crashing onto the floor. “The clan of Wolfgang is in exile for a crime committed upon Crystal Empire soil,” she said at last. “My family has declared it...”
