The Crown of Night

by Daedalus Aegle

Rating: teen
Tags: Starswirl the Bearded, Adventure, Tragedy, Princess Celestia, Alternate Universe, Nightmare Moon, Princess Luna, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 139965

The stars can see the future, and they don't like what they see. Princess Luna, accompanied by a young and beardless unicorn named Star Swirl set out to uncover and avert an unknown impending calamity.

(New readers, unsure where to start? Anywhere works, but The Education of Clover the Clever is best.)

The stars can see the future, and they don't like what they see.
Beset by signs of a great evil approaching on the horizon, Princess Luna and a young unicorn who speaks to the stars set out to uncover and prevent an unknown disaster.

Star Swirl the Bearded: the greatest wizard nopony has ever heard of. Why is that? What did he do? Why do so few now remember that he existed at all, and why do those who do remember him say he was one of the most important unicorns of all time?
A mythical retelling of Equestrian history.

23.02.2014 Featured on Equestria Daily!
Prequel to a more popular and completed sequel, The Education of Clover the Clever. Feel free to read either one first.

Cover art by VSabbath, used with permission.

Published 2013-08-05 03:20:02 UTC
Last updated 2021-01-12 20:32:34 UTC

Interlude: Changing of the Guard

The night was utterly silent and still, the sky one thick mass of flat clouds that gave no hint that anything existed beyond it. No wind disturbed the dry, heavy summer air. Not an animal moved or made any sound in the forests, and every sleeping pony slept without dreaming.

Princess Luna was watching a pony die. An old pegasus stallion, he lay in a plain and worn bed in one of the outer towers of Everhold: the martial wing of the massive, sprawling castle that was the seat of power in all the lands of ponies. He lay in fitful sleep, occasionally erupting in a bout of deep, rough coughing. After one such bout he slowly adjusted his position, and opened his eyes.

Luna put a hoof down on his foreleg, gripped it softly as she looked at him with large, sad eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but she put her other forehoof over his lips.

"Shush," she said. "You need rest."

He raised his free foreleg and pushed her hoof with a touch so light and weak she could barely feel it. Nonetheless she let her leg be pushed away, and he spoke in a thin, feeble voice so different from the thunderous rumble she remembered from his prime, when he could make the forest shake with a roar and be heard a dozen miles away as though he stood right beside them: "This is our final farewell, my Princess."

"Don't say that," Luna said, fighting hard to keep her voice from cracking. "All these years you've served me nobly, and you deserve to live out many years of old age in peace and comfort. I won't let you die here in a guardspony's bed."

"I... never protected you," he said. "Not from physical danger. You have never needed bodyguards, Princess. But... I tried to protect you from what really threatens you."

"And what is that?" She asked softly, not expecting a real answer, as she levitated a wet cloth and wiped it across his brow.

"Your own domain," he said quietly. "The darkness. The night. The times when all ponies else are asleep, and you rule alone. The quiet. The solitude. Princess... more than your guard, I... have always... tried... to be your friend. You will always need that." He placed his hoof on hers and focused his weak gaze on her eyes. "I hate to leave you with my task unfinished, your highness... You need what I can no longer provide. Promise me that you will find somepony else, and that you won't... return to... what your nights were... before I met you."

She sniffled and, her voice failing her for the moment, nodded. She took one deep, gulping breath, and whispered, "I promise."

His lips slowly curled in a final smile. "That's good... Please excuse me, your highness, I feel... so tired."

He closed his eyes.

Outside, the rain began to fall.

– – –

"Are you in there, Lulu?" Celestia said, and knocked on the door. "I'm coming in." The door swung open and Celestia stepped into Luna's private office.

Luna had withdrawn here from the tower, to distract herself with work. Celestia could see it hadn't worked; the night princess's face was streaked with dried tears and her eyes were red. Celestia had found her there at her desk, hiding behind a stack of reports that reached higher than her head.

"Why do you torment yourself this way, sister?" Celestia asked.

"I will be fine, sister," Luna said with a voice of cracked stone. "Please leave me to my work."

Celestia sighed. "You shouldn't let yourself get so close to them," Celestia said. "You have to let them go before it's too late, before you have to watch them decay before your very eyes."

Celestia sat down beside her younger sister. "It's the price of being immortal. When I plan ahead, I think of centuries from now. The next fifty years from today will take care of themselves. It's so easy to lose track of time when we have all of eternity before us. But our subjects have no such luxury. They live only today, and before you know it, they are gone."

"It's so easy to take the now for granted, and forget how quickly they change. So many times have I sat back deep in thought, and looked up again to find that a dozen years had flown by, that my courtiers who were young and strong the last time I saw them had turned to feeble old greybeards... You must remember these things, and take care to let them go before it's too late. Why wasn't he retired already? Do you know how old he was?"

"He was fifty-four. He told me so."

Celestia levitated a thick volume up and dropped it in front of Luna. With a flicker of magic, it flipped open to a particular page: Cloud Heart's personal file. "Look at his birth date."

Luna looked at it, frowned, glanced to the calendar hanging on the wall.

"He was seventy-eight, Luna," Celestia's voice was hard, disappointment showing in her look. "He lied to you so he could stay with you longer."

Luna didn't answer. The ancient pegasus had lied to continue working, spending his final decades with her rather than enjoying the age of peace and comfort he had earned? Once again she felt the tears creeping into her eyes.

"Your bodyguards, frankly, are frighteningly devoted to you, Lulu. I'm sure they weren't this bad just a few decades ago either," Celestia said, casting a suspicious look back towards the guardspony at the door. "You know the risks involved with getting too close to mortals... I just don't want to see you get your heart broken, sister. Promise me you won't repeat this mistake with the next one?"

Luna's gaze had fallen to the cold stone floor, her hooves shuffling, and she remembered being scolded by her mother in the distant past. She nodded wordlessly.

"Good." Celestia pulled her little sister into a tight hug, held it briefly, then let go. "I have to run, I'm afraid, I'm late for a meeting. I'll see you later for dinner."

– – –

The funeral had been earlier that day, a state funeral, with a great procession from all branches of the Everhold armed forces. Princess Luna herself had marched at the head in her role as a major-general of the Air Forces. All the highest-ranking officers had attended, and courtiers by the dozens, and every noblepony of Baron or higher title from a hundred miles in every direction.

This was a much smaller ceremony, and yet more heartfelt. Still in her black dress uniform, Luna stood in the pouring rain atop the open platform top of the Tower of Freezing Winds. With her were the full number of her honor guards, standing at attention, visible on the bare open platform only because they wished to be.

"Mourn with me, for we have lost one of our greatest," she said, and her voice was not cracked or faint but as strong and unassailable as a mountain peak. "Tonight we bid you farewell, Cloud Heart, Captain-Commander, oldest and wisest among us. You have risen for your final flight, and set off into the unknown lands, leaving your younger brothers and sisters to live on as best we can without your guidance. Tonight we remember you, Cloud Heart. Here are your marks of office."

Three cloaked mares stepped forward, each carrying a piece of dark metal armor: a helmet with a bladed ridge running over its top, a chest plate with the mark of a lidless eye emblazoned on its front, and a pair of leathery wing sheaths whose front edges were wicked serrated blades. One by one, the ponies placed them reverently upon a black square carpet before the princess.

"We relieve you of your armor, and with them, your obligations. You served us well, and long... Now you will have the peace that no pony in all the lands of Everhold have earned more than you." She bowed down low, and touched her forehead to the helmet. Now she whispered, as she felt tears mingling with the rain. "Farewell, Cloud Heart... You were always so kind to me, and no matter how much gratitude I showed you, it would never have been enough."

She rose, and stepped back, and one by one the other ponies stepped forward and gave their offerings of respect and sadness to the armor of the Captain-Commander. Only when the final pony had said his piece and stepped back did Luna speak again.

"You have mourned with me, for we have lost one of our greatest," she said. "Now exult with me, for we will rise again. The office of Captain-Commander is empty. Shall we fill it?"

In unison, the assembled ponies said: "Yes."

"Have we the treasures of the elder nights?"

One pony spoke, saying, "We have them."

"Bring the treasures of the elder nights forth."

Once again three mares stepped forward from the assembly, each carrying a small jewelled box with the utmost solemnity. The first placed her box on the black carpet, and with the lightest touch of a wing, opened the lid to reveal a pristine black feather. "The feather of Black Ragast, the Elder Phoenix," Luna said. "Taken from Ragast's wing by Captain-Commander Maracles, vanquisher of a great evil."

The second pegasus gently lowered her box and like the one before her, flipped it open. Within it lay a severed unicorn's horn, its long length marking it as that of an Alicorn, blood red, its tip sharpened to an impaling point. "The horn of Dread Rascibal," Luna said. "Taken from Rascibal's body by Captain-Commander Gilgamane, vanquisher of a great evil."

The third pegasus slowly, gently, almost fearfully placed the final box beside the helmet on the black carpet, and, stretching her wing from the farthest point she could stand and still reach, opened it. Inside it was a jagged shard of some thick, heavy material. It was jade green along one edge, shading into purple, with pale lines like smoke coursing through it, and finally darkened to almost black towards the outer edge. One side of it was broken, and the other sharp like a thick blade. Luna looked at it intently before speaking, as though suspicious that it might spring to life. "The claw of Jagged King Belekos, Dragon Lord, Devourer, Earth-Breaker, Tyrant of the Skies, the Long Sorrow, the Final Shadow, who nearly swallowed the moon and the sun whole... Taken from Belekos's talon... by Captain-Commander Luna Noctis, vanquisher of a great evil."

All the ponies bowed as one before the great trophies of ancient adversaries.

"By the witness of these vanquished terrors, we bid thee rise and step forward, Cold Wing. Naked you come to us." As Luna spoke one pegasus emerged from the crowd, and three others approached him and removed his cloak and armor, holding them gently in their mouths, then returned to their places. The uncovered pegasus stood alone in the pouring rain before the princess. His coat was pale, his mane white and thin, and veins showed through his coat on his sides. He was old, and wrinkled, but strong and tall.

"You are relieved of your old rank and title, Cold Wing. Now you are alone in the cold, in the dark between what was and what will be. All your life, you have travelled through the darkness, and have conquered it. We offer you your final charge. Do you accept it?"

"I do," Cold Wing said, in a deep, calm voice.

"By the witness of these vanquished terrors, do you swear allegiance to the brotherhood, to serve and protect Princess Luna Noctis, Night-Mare Moon, with your every breath and your every move, to withhold no gesture or favor she may ask of you, until she releases you from your duties or until death claims you?"

"I swear by the Feather, and the Horn, and the Claw, to serve my princess in life and death, with every motion and every breath."

"We give you a new rank and title, and a new charge, the final duty you will bear in your life," Luna said, and three new pegasi stepped forward and picked up Cloud Heart's armor, and fitted it on him. "You are bound to the shadows. You are a wanderer in the dark places of the world, and no thing, no creature, no secret can hide from you. Arise, my brothers and sisters! Arise and welcome into your fold your new leader! Arise and honor Cold Wing, Captain-Commander and leader of the Shadowbolts."

Author's Note

This takes place at an unspecified time between chapter 1 and 2. And yes, it was uploaded after chapter 2: my bad.

Chapter 2: Cambridle Academy of Magic (The Entrance Exam)

It had taken Star Swirl several months straight of travelling to get to Cambridle, one of the most prestigious schools of magic in all the lands of ponies. Edinspur lay five hundred miles behind him to the north.

Star Swirl had been robbed, had gone days without food, had accidents, had fallen sick, had been arrested for vagrancy, had to pause for a week to earn bits to continue to travel, had been robbed again, and had learned by trial and error how to sew his own cloaks. But after ten weeks on the road, he finally arrived at his destination: Cambridle Academy, one of the most prestigious schools of magic in all the lands of ponies.

He ambled slowly along the cobblestone roads into the ancient town, dazed and amazed. His legs were caked with dried mud, and his most recent cloak was falling to pieces. He was not looking at where he was going, and not a minute went by on the crowded streets before somepony bumped into him and gave him a funny look. His eyes were raised high to the lofty, commanding buildings of the Academy, massive stone halls in the Hay Gothic style, adorned with towers and spires and gargoyles, all intricately detailed.

Star Swirl had passed through cities on his way there, but never allowed himself to pause and take them in. This was a far cry from humble Edinspur.

Edinspur. The memory of his last night at home came unbidden to Star Swirl's mind. His mother, crying in the kitchen. His father, at his wit's end, having run out of things to say to a son that had no part of him. His little brother and sister on the top of the stairs, both earth ponies like everyone else in Edinspur but him, fearful that this time was going to be the time something broke. Which, in fact, it was. The earnest entreaties of his father to the value of a simple life had meant nothing to the unicorn who spent each night speaking with the stars. He knew there were greater things in life, and he meant to find them, and there had come a point where it was not bearable to wait any longer, however many harvests there were to come, however possible it was to court any of Edinspur's many lovely hard-working fillies and settle down and start a family, however easy it would be for a unicorn, any unicorn, to earn his keep in a country where unicorns were one in ten thousand. No. He had left, with nothing but a saddlebag and a small stack of bits, and the stars had shown him where to go.

Now they had led him to Cambridle. The stars had pointed him here, but he couldn't tell exactly why. He had some idea of his own, and he had asked along the way to find out what he was going to, and now he was looking for something in particular as he roamed around the centuries-old structures of the Academy... and there it was, in the center of an open courtyard, a garden, formed by the walls of various surrounding buildings.

Star Swirl stopped, and stared. There before him was a statue, massive in scale, of the spiritual founder of Cambridle, in whose name and to whose honor the Academy had been founded in the mists of prehistory: Princess Luna Noctis, Night-Mare Moon.

He studied the statue carefully, admiring it from every angle. It did not, he had to admit, actually look like her, at least not how she had looked when he met her that night five years ago. The statue was cold, distant, commanding. It was all sharp edges and straight lines. At first sight, Star Swirl thought she was wearing armor and a helmet, but on closer examination he concluded that this was her mane and coat, laid so as to give that impression. Still, it was her: the fire in her eyes, the grace inherent in her stance, so that even as a statue she seemed about to soar into the air.

Just as the stars had told him.

"Star Swirl..." His father had said. "What do you care about?"

"What?" Star Swirl had answered.

"You never look down," his father said. "You never see the things that are all around you because you're always looking far away. You never go to any gatherings or even talk to anyone in town. You don't seem to care about anything. What do you care about?"

Star Swirl tried not to think about the question.

His father followed his eyes up to the night sky. "I saw Dawn Blossom this morning, she came by with a loaf of bread. She asked about you."

Star Swirl could not immediately remember who Dawn Blossom was, but he didn't say so. She was, he supposed, one of a group of seven or eight fillies who were, he supposed, perfectly nice, and who had, he supposed, shown an interest in him. This, at any rate, is what his father was always saying. Star Swirl never noticed.

"You don't have to be alone and unhappy all the time," his father continued. "Come on, son. The only unicorn in the whole town. That's an advantage. You'll never have trouble earning your keep, there isn't a filly in Edinspur who wouldn't give you a chance to court them, not a parent who wouldn't be thrilled to have Star Swirl in their-"

Star Swirl interrupted him. "I don't want to stay here all my life."

There he had said it out loud for the first time, the hitherto unstated theme of all his talks with his father.

His father sighed. "Edinspur is a fine place to live your life. All the rest of the world... is just places."

"You here for the exam?" a voice behind Star Swirl said, and he turned. The speaker was an elderly earth pony in a rough, patched-up vest with a pipe in his mouth.

"Sorry?"

"The entrance exam. For new students."

Star Swirl's eyes lit up. "Yes, that's why I'm here," he said, smiling. It wasn't a statement of ambition. It was a statement of destiny made apparent.

The earth pony nodded. "Well, they're gonna be startin' em soon, over at the Old Hall. If you want a spot you'd best be hurrying there now."

"I will," Star Swirl said, turning in the direction the old pony was pointing. "Thanks. I'll be back here later, I expect."

"That's nice," the pony said absent-mindedly, turning his attention to a patch of grass that was perhaps not quite so lush as it could be. "Just me and the Princess here otherwise, most of the time. Some company'll be nice." But Star Swirl had already galloped out of earshot.

The Old Hall stood at the center of the Academy grounds. At its core, it was a simple, square stone building of one large open room where lessons were held, but as the Academy grew over the centuries new rooms had been constructed along the outside. Elaborate ornamentation and detail had been added to the walls, statues, busts, and portraits of great ponies from the Academy's history stood in every corner and decorated every wall, even the roof of the Hall had been torn down and rebuilt using Reneighsance architectural techniques to raise it higher, with tall spires of black stone adorned with gold metalwork. Star Swirl found it easily by following the crowd of nervous unicorns.

Star Swirl looked around, fascinated by everything he saw. Scores of young unicorns paced nervously in the area surrounding the Hall, invariably dressed in expensive-looking robes and coats of the highest fashion. Everypony he passed turned to look at him, their eyes lingering on his own self-made muddy burlap cloak. He found himself in a large entrance chamber leading in to the Hall itself, in a long line that ended at a desk where a bored-looking unicorn mare accepted papers from each anxious applicant before they could go inside. The forms themselves were distributed by several more bored elderly unicorns, and tables stood in a row along the wall with ink and quills for the applicants to fill them out. One gave Star Swirl a strange look, then shrugged, and wordlessly passed over a copy.

Before long, Star Swirl came to the front of the line and dropped the form for the bored-looking clerk to see. She picked it up without glancing at him.

"Let me see... Home: Edinspur. Where's that?"

"Scoltland," Star Swirl said. She raised her quill in a pale green aura and added it to the paper.

"Long way from home then." She raised an eyebrow at the next entry. "Prior instruction or experience: I talk to the stars." She raised her head to look at Star Swirl for the first time. "You walked five hundred miles to make a bad joke?" she asked, distinctly unamused. "You've had your fun, now clear the line please. Next!"

"I'm not joking," Star Swirl said, taken aback.

"You're a madpony then, and you're not qualified. Also, your writing is appalling. Have you never used a quill before?" Her eyes ran up and down over him. "Well, by the looks of you they might not have heard of quills where you're from. Now please stop wasting my time, we have a lot of ponies to process." She threw the paper in the bin on the side of the desk. "Next!"

Star Swirl pursed his lips together, and levitated the paper back up onto the desk. "Like I said, I'm not joking." He turned back to briefly glance at the pony pushing from behind him in the line.

The clerk brought her own magic to life and began to levitate the form back to the bin. It froze. She raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Her pale green aura was being infused with Star Swirl's dark blue one.

She steadily concentrated greater and greater power into her levitation to wrest control of the form, but to no avail. Slowly, the paper moved back and lay down in the middle of her desk, right beneath her snout. "I'm not going to get rid of you easily, am I?" she asked.

"No," Star Swirl answered.

"Age: fifteen," the clerk read. "Well that's easy then, you have to be seventeen to take the entrance exam."

"Well, I'm ready to study magic here now. No need to wait."

"This isn't some basic lesson for just any unicorn," the clerk said, scowling. "Our students have been practicing magic rigorously since they could speak their first words, and Cambridle challenges them to their limits."

"Isn't that the whole point of your entrance exam? To tell if somepony is good enough? So let me take it."

"It's a waste of time," the clerk said sharply. "Nopony without extensive tutoring is good enough to get in. It says here your parents aren't even unicorns."

Star Swirl was getting visibly agitated. "I didn't say my parents had taught me, did I? So what does it matter what they are?"

"I'm afraid there are no seats available this year. Try again in two years. Next!"

Star Swirl gritted his teeth. The clerk's log book came to life in his aura, and the pages began flipping rapidly back and forth. It stopped at one page. "Harold Trotter isn't showing up. I'll take his place."

"I'm afraid it's already taken," the clerk said.

Star Swirl closed his eyes and concentrated. After a few seconds, he opened them again. "No it isn't. I can see his empty chair inside the hall. I'm going there now."

"Hey!" The clerk cried as Star Swirl turned and walked past her, opening the door to the exam hall with his magic. "You're not entered in the log! You're not going to-" she glanced down at some movement in her peripheral vision and fell silent with a scowl. Her quill was immersed in a dark blue aura, and had crossed out 'Harold Trotter' and was writing 'Star Swirl' underneath. "Oh, to Tartarus with this. Next!"

The commotion had not escaped the notice of the ponies around him, and as Star Swirl crossed the Hall, he could feel eyes watching him from all sides. Monitors standing on the edge of the hall leaned in and whispered to each other as he walked past. He ignored them, and kept his eyes focused on the absent Trotter's desk.

The Hall mimicked an amphitheater, the stone floor set up in half-circle tiers with simple wooden writing desks at each seat, all facing down towards a raised stage at the far end. Above, Star Swirl noted with a smile, the ceiling was painted with an elaborate night sky, with a full moon at the center.

Star Swirl reached Harold Trotter's desk, and found one full glass inkwell with three feather quills beside it, and a stack of papers to write on. He scowled. A magic exam in writing? Really? He shook his head. Maybe the real magic tests come later. Whatever, I'll just do this for now. He sat down and waited as the final students filed into the hall and took their places. Shortly afterwards, a tower bell rang overhead, and the monitors walked down the line distributing the exam assignment.

Star Swirl received his copy and read the assignment: "Explain the procedure for transmuting Water into Luminiferous Aether." He read it again. He frowned. What the buck is luminiferous aether? He shook his head. Oh, whatever, it doesn't matter. He dipped his quill in the inkwell and began to write. Ten minutes and three hundred words later he was finished. He had almost filled one page of the stack of twenty he had been given to work with. He glanced around the room. All around him, dozens of other unicorns were hard at work, writing page after page of tiny, dense script in swift, practiced motions.

Immediately behind him, an inkwell fell to the floor and shattered loudly, its owner erupting in a choked curse that drew angry glares from the monitors. Star Swirl turned to watch as the inkwell's owner, a skinny red stallion with a brown mane, nervously gulped and asked a monitor for more ink.

"That would be a gross breach of tradition," the monitor, a bald old stallion, answered in a deep and stern voice. "Since the Great Ink Famine in the 111th year of the Discordian Age*, no student at Cambridle has had more than one inkwell to an exam. If you cannot hold on to yours, perhaps you are not cut out for the Academy."

*: The Discordian Calendar had only five years, four of which were year 111.

"But – but-" the red stallion squealed with horror in his eyes. "I-I can't finish without..." He fell silent in the face of the bald stallion's unsympathetic glare.

"He can have mine," Star Swirl said, getting up from his chair. "I'm finished anyway." He levitated his barely-touched inkwell to the red stallion's desk. Then he picked up his lone sheet of paper and walked back down the hall towards the receiving monitors, ignoring the burning eyes of the bald stallion that were trying to drill a hole through the back of his head.

The clerk from outside was now waiting to take the students' finished work. She smirked as Star Swirl approached. "I told you it was a waste of time."

"I want to hand in my work," Star Swirl said, ignoring her comment.

"We don't accept unfinished papers. Toss it in the bin and try again when you are prepared, if that ever happens."

"I am finished," Star Swirl said bluntly, mustering as much stubborn confidence and authority into his voice as he could. Given that he was a teenage colt with a cracked voice and a Haylands accent, however, this was not very much. The clerk simply continued smirking. "I completed the task completely."

"I'm sure you surely did," the clerk said, and took the paper from him. "You're quite certain you want me to file this for grading, then, rather than just throw it away and spare you the embarrassment?"

"File it," Star Swirl said.

The clerk shrugged. "it's your funeral. I suppose the professors need a good laugh same as everypony else."

Star Swirl didn't answer, but left the Old Hall without a backward glance, doing his best to ignore the clerk.

Once outside, Star Swirl wandered back towards the garden, and found it still empty except for the old red earth pony, who nodded when he saw Star Swirl cross the gate.

"You're back then," the earth pony said. "How'd it go?"

"It was easy," Star Swirl said.

"That's nice," the earth pony said. "What're you gonna do now?"

Star Swirl opened his mouth, and hesitated. "Dunno," he eventually said. "To be honest, I've no idea what I'm doing here, or why. I don't know where I can sleep either. I don't know anypony here."

The old stallion grunted thoughtfully. "Well, students get dormitories, so if you get accepted there's that. But that'll take them a few days to go through them exams, so you've time to kill before then. There's always an inn'll give you a room until then."

"I... don't actually have any bits," Star Swirl admitted. "I have barely enough to eat."

The stallion looked at him with shock. "How'd you get all the way here with no bits?"

"I walked," Star Swirl answered simply. "I slept on the roadside, under trees, up in trees, in barns... anywhere I could find, really. I always got in trouble when I tried it inside towns and cities, though... I have to find someplace out of the way, where nopony goes by..." He fell silent. The old stallion looked over to see the unicorn staring up at the statue of the Princess.

Star Swirl grinned. "Do you believe in destiny?"

"Destiny?" the earth pony said curiously. "Destiny is a mighty big thing. I don't much hold with big things. Anything bigger'n a pony, is too big."

Star Swirl frowned at this show of earth pony philosophy, so similar to what he'd always heard from his father. "What about her?" He raised a hoof to the imposing statue of Princess Luna.

"The Princess?" the stallion raised his eyes to look at her. "She's a pony, no bigger."

"I think she's a lot bigger," Star Swirl said, his lips curling in a smile. "Big enough, at least, to shelter another pony, wouldn't you say?"

The stallion's benevolent face froze, then morphed into a scowl. "Sonny..."

"I won't ruin anything," Star Swirl said. "Please! I just need someplace to sleep at night?"

"Grrm... Well, you won't dig up any of the grass, or, I don't know, eat the flowers or anything dumb like that, will ya?"

"Promise!"

"...Well, all right then," he said distrustfully. "But I'll be checkin', you hear."

"Thank you!" Star Swirl grinned, and looked up at the statue. "You can trust me. I'd sooner cut my own leg off than do anything to her."

– – –

Days went by in which Star Swirl managed to leave the garden, and the statue, in pristine condition sufficient to meet the gardener's strict standards. Star Swirl set up a simple tent, little more than a single sheet of rough fabric, in the shadow of the Princess each night, and took it down again each morning before setting out to wander and explore the town. Nopony else ever came to the garden, the gardener told him, although he did see a few young unicorns stop by the gate and glance furtively in at him. Rumor soon spread of the strange colt who had appeared out of nowhere, and Star Swirl heard stifled laughter wherever he went past. At first he would blush, then stalk away hurriedly, and felt an angry heat rising in him, until he learned to ignore it and wave it away.

Later that week, word went out that the entrance exam results would be announced in the Old Hall that night. Star Swirl heard it while he was out getting a bag of plain oats, the cheapest item of food he could find in town. He had grown used to eating food so simple it couldn't really be called 'a meal' on the road, but noticed the strange looks he got everywhere he went.

On the set hour, Star Swirl joined the crowd of unicorn applicants filing into the Old Hall. Every step he took he noticed other ponies glancing at him, and whispering among themselves, and even saw a few hooves pointing him out to others. He ignored them, and kept his eyes turned forward.

On the stage at the bottom of the Hall a half dozen unicorns of middle- to very-advanced-age were seated on simple wooden chairs, beside a table with a jug and some cups. Star Swirl recognized the bald, bulky stallion from the exam among them. Each of them wore robes of office in old fashions very unlike anything worn by the younger students. The oldest of them was an ancient, skinny stallion with thick spectacles resting on his wrinkled muzzle and a thin and a thin patch of beard. Once everypony had filed in, he rose up, levitated a scroll of parchment from the table, and cleared his throat.

He cleared his throat again a few times, and mumbled something to himself, adjusting the volume of his thin, dusty voice with an amplifying spell, before beginning to speak properly.

"Good evening, everypony, my name is Professor Incisive Commentary," here he rattled of a long list of honors and degrees in acronym-form that took him two and a half minutes and occasionally included letters that were not in the Equis alphabet, "-and I am the senior professor of arcane and thaumaturgical studies, with a doctorate in conjuration, disconjuration and reconjuration, and magister fellow in horn anatomy studies. These," he extended a hoof to the other unicorns on the stage, "are my colleagues in the faculty of the Academy of Magic here at Cambridle, Professor Ivory Tower, Professor Check Mate, Professor the right honorable Judge Learned Horn, Professor Sesquipidalian Loquaciousness, and Professor Red Quill. Those of you who have been accepted into the Academy will get to meet your new teachers during the immatriculation reception on Night-Mare Night in one week. Now then," he unrolled the scroll and adjusted his glasses. "The exams have all been read, and I can happily say that a full twenty-eight point six percent passed, which is the highest rate in the past twelve years. I will now read the names of those who have been accepted to become new students here at Cambridle." and he began to read out a list of names. Each name was met with a joyous outburst of variable volume and restraint from the pony in question. Star Swirl waited confidently for his name to be read.

He waited some more, as his name failed to appear early on in the list.

He continued waiting, his confidence flagging, as the minutes ticket by.

He was quite shocked when the list came to an end, and the elderly scholar said "That is all. Congratulations to all of you who were accepted, to everypony else I remind you that you can try again next year. You are dismissed."

"Hold on," Star Swirl cried as the students rose and began to file out of the hall. "You didn't say my name."

The professor looked towards him, shocked at this outburst. "And you are...?"

"Star Swirl."

The professor looked through his list. He shook his head. "You are not on the list, so I presume you were not accepted. Better luck next time, my boy."

"Well, who decided that? My exam was perfect!"

A handful of the students had stopped moving now and turned to see the commotion. The professor looked flustered. "Decorum, dear boy, this is undignified."

Star Swirl gritted his teeth. "Cerberus take decorum," Star Swirl said. "I travelled five hundred miles to be here today and I mean to stay. If anyone wants to tell me I can't then let them say it to my face."

Now just about the entire crowd of students had halted and were hanging back, watching the exchange with morbid schadenfreude. The elderly professor was clearly not used to being talked back to by impudent teenagers and looked extremely unsure. Behind him, the other faculty members were whispering to each other. Papers were levitated around. The bald stallion – Check Mate, Star Swirl believed the speaker had called him – located a particular piece of paper and cleared his throat.

"I believe this is the exam," he pronounced the word with unmistakeable distaste, "in question. I had the misfortune to appraise it."

"Well what's wrong with it?" Star Swirl asked.

"What's wrong with it?" The professor spoke with horror. "It's a joke! A mockery of this academy's noble heritage! This is a place dedicated to the study of the higher arts and sciences, and you deliver us this - this foal's scrawl," he waved the offending paper. "Everypony else spent several hours and at least fifteen pages on the assignment.*"

*: Success rates are strongly correlated with increased time spent and the length of the work, with the highest rates gotten by students who poach excess paper from their fellows by stealth. In one notable instance, a paper shortage meant that the exam turned into a gladiatorial battle as only one in ten students could hoard enough paper to answer the assignment at all.

Star Swirl's eyes glazed over. He shook his head to clear his mind again. "Well that was dumb of them. I only needed the one page." A wave of laughter spread through the hall.

"You didn't touch the assignment at all. Nowhere on this page did you even name the Luminiferous Aether."

"Well I have no idea what the lumin... what that thing even is." The laughter redoubled in intensity.

"And you wonder why you weren't accepted?" The professor was turning red. "The Luminiferous Aether is the medium through which light travels. If you don't even know the most basic points of magical physics then-"

"Well why didn't you just say so then?" Star Swirl interjected. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. All transmutations are the same anyway, I just wrote the way they all work."

"That's preposterous," the professor sputtered. "There are dozens of different transmutations that work according to entirely different principles, each requiring specialized-"

"How do you transmute water into your special aether then?" Star Swirl demanded of him. He was walking forward towards the stage.

"Clearly you would not understand it. But it begins with an inscribed circle of essence softening aligned three-quarters around its own axis on a twelve-point spectrum of..." The professor was interrupted by a splashing sound. On the table to his left, the water jug had just begun spouting its contents like a fountain.

"Water..." Star Swirl said, his horn glowing. The water evaporated in a pulsing wave of colored light that spread out to fill the entire hall. The professor fell silent, and slowly turned his head, watching the glittering light that hung everywhere in the air around him. The students in the back of the hall ceased their giggling.

Star Swirl glared, his mouth locked in a frown that he hoped looked menacing but which mostly looked adorable, and said: "...becomes Luminiferous Aether. There, did I say it right?"

The professor did not answer. The hall was so quiet that the light itself became audible, a soft, distant tinkling of immaterial bells.

Star Swirl stopped at the foot of the stage. He turned and looked around the hall at the astonished faces watching him in awestruck silence.

"Well then," Star Swirl said. "If nopony objects, I will assume I have been accepted into the school."

Nopony said a word as he trotted out of the hall.

Chapter 3: The Cambridle Academy Library (Star Swirl vs. the Written Word)

Star Swirl looked up at the creaking hulk of Unity Hall. It had taken some time, and lots of particularly vigorous communication, but in the end Star Swirl had acquired the key and address of what had been officially entered into Cambridle's housing log as Harold Trotter's dorm room. Mister Trotter had still not appeared, and a number of increasingly desperate attempts by Cambridle's housing administration to locate him and persuade him to accept his spot rather than leave it for Star Swirl to claim had proven fruitless.

(When, months later, Cambridle finally received a letter from Trotter saying that he was very sorry but had been accepted into Trotsford instead, their mood only worsened still.)

Ignoring the looks he now seemed to attract everywhere he went, Star Swirl climbed the stairs to the tall, narrow door of the building, and stepped inside. Unity Hall, the mare who handed him the key had said, was one of the oldest student homes of the university, dating almost back to the founding of the school. Furthermore, she said, it had been rebuilt in the original design after every time a student burned it down, but thanks to Reneighsance advances in fire security magic, the last time that happened was hundreds of years ago. This was extra impressive, she had made sure to emphasize, considering that the building was entirely constructed in dry wood with excellent air circulation and frankly rather drafty doors and windows, and walls that were riddled with cracks that made it perfectly suited for conflagration.

Star Swirl didn't know what "conflagration" meant, but the description had reminded him of warm evenings in front of the fireplace in Edinspur, and he was content. He climbed five stories up an ancient, thick oak wood stair and headed down a corridor to find the correct door, and entered the apartment. "Hello? Anypony here?"

"One second!" A voice rang out from the next room. A brown earth pony colt, a few years older than Star Swirl, emerged shortly afterwards. "Hullo," he said with a thick Trottingham accent, a smile and an extended hoof. "I'm Turner. You must be the new roommate."

"Star Swirl," the unicorn said. "Not Harold Trotter, though I've apparently stolen his life. He's not coming and I'm taking his dorm." He paused. "You're not a unicorn," he said after a moment's hesitation.

"And you're not a zebra. I had so gotten my hopes up, too," Turner answered, chuckling at Star Swirl's befuddled expression. "There's more to Cambridle than the Academy of Magic, you know. I'm in the School of Material Sciences. Engineering, physics, medicine, and so on. I take it you're going to study magic, then?"

"I don't know about 'study'," Star Swirl said bitterly. "I've seen the teachers here, I think I know more magic than they do."

"Is that your special talent then?"

"Sort of. Princess Luna said I can pull down magic from the stars."

Turner raised an eyebrow. "Gosh. Mine is that I can always tell the time perfectly. Speaking of which, do you know what time it is? Teatime!" He rushed into the kitchen and a few minutes later they were sitting by the table with a pot of tea and some biscuits.

"So I'm really going to be living here?" Star Swirl asked as he looked around, disbelief apparent in his voice. Turner had given him the tour, which consisted of pointing a hoof at each door and declaring what lay behind it: a bedroom for each of them, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a broom closet. Star Swirl was amazed. The shared room alone was twice as large as his parents' house in Edinspur, and full of antique furniture fancier than the village magistrate's home.

"That's right," Turner said cheerfully. "It's drab, wretched, and cramped, but it keeps the rain off. That's student life for you."

"It's amazing," Star Swirl said quietly. "I used to live in a shack made of hay and dirt, with rocks stuck inbetween. I spent months sleeping outside while I walked here."

Turner raised an eyebrow "You... walked here? From Scoltland?"

"That's right. The stars showed me the way. I couldn't tell why at first, but now that I've got here I know," Star Swirl said with barely-suppressed excitement and absolute conviction. "I'm going to be the greatest wizard Cambridle has ever seen. Like Marelin, or Morgan le Neigh."

Turner nodded slowly while he looked over the unkempt teenager sitting before him. His mane was a tangled mess, a few leaves and twigs sticking out that the unicorn either had not noticed or could not be bothered to deal with. His hooves were filthy, with spatters of mud reaching up to his knees, and his cloak and bags were ripped, ragged, and caked in dirt.

"You're getting mighty far ahead of yourself, friend," Turner said slowly. "I suggest you calm down, drink your tea, and tell me the whole story from the beginning."

A half hour passed while Star Swirl spoke. As the discussion went on, Turner's expression grew increasingly contorted. "So, to sum up," the earth pony finally said, "you've never actually been inside a building larger than a, well, a small apartment by Trottingham standards,"

"Well, there was the one night I was in a gaol," Star Swirl said.

Turner nodded. "Right. Okay. Apart from that. And, you can barely read and write."

"Sure I can!" Star Swirl looked offended at the thought. "I learned myself. It took ages. I can do almost all the letters."

"Right. And, you come to the magic academy at Cambridle, one of the greatest and most demanding universities in ponydom, by yourself, without having ever been taught any magic before," Turner raised a hoof to cut off Star Swirl's objection. "Except for one night, that I don't think anypony's going to believe, you have no money, no plans, and..." Turner paused as he contemplated this last bit, "you've never seen a library? Is that right?"

"What's a library?" Star Swirl asked without irony.

"A library," Turner said patiently, "is a collection of books."

"Oh," Star Swirl said, unimpressed. "Is that all? The village had one of those. We didn't call it a library though."

"Oh no?"

"No. We called it a shelf."

Turner nodded. "Alright," he said, speaking slowly, "Here's what we're going to do. I am going to show you some things. But first, you need to take a bath, and I need to have some more tea."

– – –

"I don't see why you had to throw away my bag," Star Swirl grumbled as the two of them headed down the street towards the campus. He was freshly washed and naked, and felt very self-conscious on both points.

"It was practically crawling away on its own, I just helped put it out of its misery," Turner answered. "Anyway, I let you keep your cloak. I wanted to throw it in the fireplace as well. But you are going to wash it once we get back home."

"It's a raincloak, it's made to get dirty," Star Swirl muttered in response. "So where are we going anyway?"

"We are going to the library," Turner said. "If you're going to survive as a student here, you need to learn your way around the parchment."

Star Swirl scoffed. "Survive? I told you about the entrance exam, I'll be just fine!"

Turner rolled his eyes. The library building was right ahead of them.

"I don't see what's so special about a library. I know everything I need to know, this is just going to be a huge waste of... oh."

They had entered the Cambridle Academy Library.

"Oh," Star Swirl said weakly. "I see."

The central hall of the library spread out before them. To say that it was larger than Star Swirl imagined was not really strong enough: Star Swirl had been imagining the village magistrate's shelf, only perhaps twice as large.

Cambridle Academy Library was more like a mountain, one suitable for chaining a mythical titanic pony of such scale and girth that both mountain and pony could scrape the roof of the sky, if that mountain, and that pony, were hollowed out and filled with books.

"Exactly," Turner said as he led Star Swirl to the librarians' workplace in the center of the towering hall. A great round table, almost as tall as a stallion reared up on his hindlegs, from which a score of librarians would set out on expeditions to distant corners of the library, and to which they would return to rest between tasks at what almost looked like a forest campsite in the center.

A skinny unicorn mare sitting on a watchpony's post behind the table watched warily as the two of them approached. "Hullo," Turner said cheerfully. "This is my friend Star Swirl. He's a barbarian newly arrived from the wilderness, and needs to be civilized." He smiled.

She looked down at Star Swirl through weathered spectacles, scrutinizing him carefully. She solemnly placed a sheet of paper on the table. "Write your name," she said with the utmost severity, "on the dotted line."

Star Swirl did so, under the watchful eyes of the librarian, and handed it back.

She nodded her approval, and said, "Now you are one of us. You may check out ten books at a time. You may keep them for two months. After two months, you must return them or renew your loan. If you do not, the Library Hounds will come for you. The Library Hounds are responsible for retrieving late books. The Library Hounds are empowered to cross national boundaries in pursuit of their charge. The Library Hounds never sleep, and eat only the sorrow of delinquent borrowers. If you hear the baying of the Library Hounds, you may surrender yourself unharmed by speaking "nil pacus funcomidem" thrice, turning in a circle, and laying down on your back with your legs spread. Do you understand?"

Star Swirl cast an uncertain look to Turner, who nudged him in the rib. "Yes! Yes, I do."

The librarian nodded, unblinking. There was a flash of light, a burst of smoke, and a small square of cardboard appeared on the table before them. Star Swirl reached forth and took it, taking a breath of the thick, strange aroma of the smoke as he did so.

"Now go!" said the librarian, in commanding tone. "Go forth and find knowledge!"

Star Swirl suddenly felt rather light-headed. Not knowing where to start, he picked a direction at random and ambled off, leaving Turner behind to try to talk the librarian into going out for dinner.

– – –

When Turner woke up the next morning he found himself with a splitting headache, a glittering boa adorning his shoulders, with his body painted blue and his mane dyed yellow, and with a sprig of celery behind his ear.

A note lay on the bed beside him. He picked it up and tried to focus on the words, barely making them out:

"You have shown yourself worthy of progressing to the Third Circle. Return to me when you are ready and I shall initiate you into the Mysteries of Naglantis.

I had fun last night. Hope to see you soon,

-Ginny."

Turner chuckled, and winced as a burst of pain shot through his head. He slowly got up, and looked around. The flat looked as though some manner of siege weapon, possibly a ballista, had been loaded up with party supplies and fired in the window. The exception was Star Swirl's room, which looked perfectly ordinary.

In fact, Turner realized as he looked at it, it looked completely untouched, exactly as it had been before Star Swirl had even arrived. "Star Swirl?" Turner mumbled, and received no answer.

After grabbing a hooffull of biscuits to fill his empty stomach, Turner raced back to the library.

Ginny looked up at his approach from her perch in the librarians' campsite, and gave him a knowing wink. "Greetings, Adept of the Third Circle. Very adept indeed..."

"Hullo," Turner said, blushing lightly as the memories of last night flooded back to him. He shook his head to clear out his thoughts. "Listen – my roommate never returned last night. The barbarian from the wilderness. Do you know where he-?" Ginny pointed a hoof to her right. Turner turned.

There, not twenty yards down from where Turner had left him, Star Swirl was sitting with a stack of over a hundred books on a reading desk.

"Apparently he started reading at the beginning of that shelf, and just kept going until he got to where he is now," Ginny said quietly. "They made him come over and have a bite to eat around midnight. Library regulations, it doesn't look good to have ponies starving to death in the library."

Turner nodded.

"They quite liked him," Ginny said idly. "It's been a long time since we had a real devourer."

"Looks like he's alright then," Turner said, relieved. He turned back to the librarian. "Do you think maybe you could keep an eye on him? I think he's a little..." Turner twirled a hoof by his ear in the universal sign of Loony.

Ginny nodded. "But you should get back to your own studies. I will be checking to see if you've kept up with your... Exercises, for your next supplication." She leaned forward over the table and whispered with a sultry voice, "Oral dexterity will be on the test. The test will be in three parts, and will account for a quarter of your final grade."

– – –

In the corner, Star Swirl was completely lost in a history book of the university. In particular, he was transfixed by an early chapter describing the founding of the school.

In those ancient times, Star Swirl read, the daylight hours were taken up entirely by physical labor, grim, exhausting, and unthinking. With only traditional tools, and little understanding of the magic of growth, the unforgiving soil demanded so much effort that every moment when it was possible to see what one was doing, was spent forcing only the bare necessities of sustenance from the earth. Therefore, the night-time, when ponies returned to their homes, was the time for study and reflection, and all the great advances in knowledge took place under the grace of the moon.

As a result, a circle of great sages, the Yeoponies of the Night-Time Hours, decided to honor and revere the moon as the symbol of learning and the intellectual spirit of ponykind. Seeking to establish a great center of knowledge and wisdom, they chose Cambridle as their location and officially founded their school in Princess Luna's honor, with a great ceremony on Night-Mare Night, dedicated to the Princess's name.

Star Swirl was overjoyed to note that the immatriculation ceremony for new students took place on Night-Mare Night each year, in commemoration of that ancient anniversary, and that the new students wore robes similar to those worn by the original founders.

He was distinctly less overjoyed some hours later when he found some of the robes in question and saw that they were not actually similar to the originals at all. They were made of a different fabric, dyed using modern techniques that gave a completely different result, stitched using different threads and different knots...

Star Swirl frowned. Different cut, different decoration, different everything. The robes used by the new students were entirely in the modern fashion.

This, Star Swirl decided, would not do.

He slammed the book shut, and glanced over towards the great librarian fort in the center of the hall. He smiled. They had been helpful so far. It was time to find out how much the great library could do for him.

– – –

It was only a full week later, a week in which Turner never saw Star Swirl at home, before Turner returned to the library again. When he did, he found Ginny slumped over the table, unresponsive. When knocking on the table and gently nudging her gave no response, he carefully lifted her head and held her facing him. Her eyes were blood-shot behind her spectacles, and she slowly focused on the stallion as he softly whispered for her to wake up. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"Star Swirl..." she hissed. "He's going to be the death of us."

"...What?"

"Everything was fine the first few days..." another nearby librarian said, staring into empty space with dead eyes. "He was as excited as a young foal, just discovering the world of reading... Then he started talking about errors."

"I was a fool," Ginny said. "I told him about the red ink... I showed him where we keep it." She grabbed hold of Turner's neck and pulled him close. "I didn't know what I would unleash!"

Ginny slumped down on the table again, face down, and began loudly sobbing. Turner reached out and gently stroked down her mane, biting his lip uncertainly.

"Look," Ginny said between sobs, as she brought a book up from below the table and opened it for Turner to see. Turner raised an eyebrow. Each page was drenched in red ink, notes tightly-packed in every inch of margin, every open spot, and between every line. Half the original text had been unceremoniously crossed over, marked "wrong!" with the number of exclamation marks rating how spectacularly misinformed the original writer had been on the subject they had studied for decades, and every bit that wasn't crossed out had lengthy commentary explaining that, while not outright false, the underlying truth had been completely misunderstood and misinterpreted.

Turner flipped through the pages, finding more of the same. In the next chapter there was one single line that had not been crossed out with red ink. It read "rocks are often found below ground."

"Why didn't you stop him?" Turner asked. "Why didn't you send the Library Hounds after him?"

"We tried!" Ginny cried. "The Library Hounds have left us. They obey only him, now. They follow him as though he were the Packmaster foretold in the Prophecy of Hoofnote 89!"

"I'm going to go talk to him," Turner said.

Ginny gulped. "You mustn't. The Hounds will devour you."

"Not to worry, I'm good with animals," Turner said with forced cheer. "Where is he?"

Ginny raised a hoof and pointed to a large door on a distant wall, ornamented with ominous iconography. Turner's smiled went rigid.

"Ah," he said. "The Forbidden Knowledge section. Right. No problem. I'll just... I'll just go see how he's doing then. Back in a little bit!"

– – –

Turner paused to consider the abundance of skulls, the vaguely insectlike figures, the betentacled monstrosities whose shapes were only hinted at, the ponies whose eyes, ears, or mouths were bound or blacked out, and all the other imagery of things unknown and forbidden that decorated the entrance to the section officially designated Dewey 1000: Knowledge Ponies Are Not Meant To Know. The section was generally securely locked with numerous seals, both magical and otherwise. Even then, every once in a while a brash and ingenious student found their way in and, somewhat more rarely, out again with the power to speak of what they had seen inside. Now the door stood open and unguarded, a chill draft from within carrying the smell of forgotten and long-untouched things, of ancient dust and sickness. Turner shuddered as the gust passed over him, then stepped inside into a dark chamber.

The moment he stepped out of the light, under the shadow of the towering shelves, he heard a growling sound behind him, quickly joined by more on all sides. Turner just barely glimpsed a low shape shimmer as it swiftly passed through a blade of pale light from beyond the great door.

The Library Hounds were encircling him.

Turner froze up and stood completely still, holding his breath and racking his brain to try to remember the surrender phrase. Would it even work when I don't have an overdue book?, He thought to himself. One of the Hounds stepped out right in front of him: it was wolf-like in shape, but almost as large as a stallion, and made from shed pages of paper or parchment bound together by old and powerful magics, covered in writing. It snarled as it drew close to sniff him, and he saw fangs made of single strips of paper, razor-sharp. He shuddered at the thought of the paper-cut bites and claws.

The Hound sniffed him, seemed to make up its mind, and growled more loudly. It was just about to leap upon the earth pony when Star Swirl's voice yelled, "Down! Sit!" from further in.

The Hounds whimpered, and leapt away, disappearing into the shadows. Turner began to breathe again. "Star Swirl?" he asked as loudly as he could manage.

"Over here," Star Swirl's voice called out. Turner followed it deeper in the dark chamber and around a corner to see the young unicorn sitting alone at a writing desk, reading by the light of a lone wax candle, two Hounds sitting beside him. Their parchment skin was yellow and the script faded, showing great age. They growled deeply when Turner approached, but stopped when Star Swirl grunted disapprovingly at them.

"Star Swirl..." Turner mumbled, "what are you doing?"

"Reading the library," Star Swirl answered, not looking up. "Same as before."

"What, all of it?"

"Yes. At this rate it will only take another two weeks."

"Look, Star Swirl," Turner stepped up behind the unicorn, careful to avoid the hounds, "I talked to the librarians earlier. You're not allowed to edit the books in the library."

"Well, that goes against the entire ethos of the institution," Star Swirl said. "I'm only contributing to the furtherance of the body of scholarly knowledge. It's hardly my fault that the writers of all these books were buffoons and ignoramuses."

Turner paused to take in the changes to Star Swirl's vocabulary. "Yes, but... they're not your books!" he said. "They don't belong to you! If you want to contribute, you're supposed to write your own, not rewrite everypony else's!"

Star Swirl's head shot up and his quill paused. He stared into nothing with wide eyes. "Write my own?" His mouth widened to a manic grin. "Turner, that's brilliant!"

Turner sighed in relief, and looked down at what he had been working on. His heart sank in his chest as he looked over the books before them. "Star Swirl," he said with growing horror. "Did you read these books?"

"Yes. Why?"

"All of them?"

"Let me see here, the Ponykotic Manuscripts, The Princess in Yellow, Cultes des Mules..."

"And... did they not drive you insane?"

"Well, the Ponykotic Manuscripts came close, the author couldn't use an apostrophe to save his life, but with a few cups of this miraculous 'coffey' beverage I got through it."

Turner nodded slowly. "The thing is that normally anypony who reads these books loses their mind and dedicates their life to bringing about the end of the world."

"I can understand that," Star Swirl said. "Two chapters into The Princess in Yellow I felt like killing somepony as well. His sentence structure is just appalling." He shook his head in disgust. "Anyway, I made some suggestions in the margins. It makes it much more readable." He flipped the book open to a random page, revealing the formerly yellow, ancient page covered with scribbles in fresh red ink.

Turned bent over and looked at the notes in the margin: "Recites Alhoofred et al in inferior idiom, contributing nothing to the subject. Return to the ~~shelf~~ library and get the Necroponycon instead".

"Okay," Turner said with forceful cheer. "You know what? I think it's time we put down the evil tomes of secrets ponies were not meant to know, and headed back out to the main hall to sit down and have a chat about good library patron behavior. Could you do that for me, Star Swirl? I will buy you a fresh bottle of red ink if you're good."

"It would be difficult," Star Swirl answered, returning his attention to the book.

"Why is that?"

"Well, because of the big blob monstrosity with giant teeth sticking out of its eye sockets sitting over there in the corner," he pointed a hoof to the side without turning. "It sort of showed up a few chapters into the Cultes des Mules and was going to eat me as soon as I stopped reading. I was hoping to find a good way to get rid of it when you came along. I'm rather afraid it's woken up now."

– – –

"Alright," Turner said a week later. "What did we learn from that?"

"Do not disobey the librarians," Star Swirl said with a slightly muffled voice.

"Yes. And?"

"Do not use a dog whistle on the Library Hounds."

Turner nodded. "What else?"

"The Script Specters are not your friends."

Turner glared. Star Swirl sighed. "Really, really, do not disobey the librarians," the unicorn continued, "never leave your towel behind, necromancy is not a substitute for food and sleep, do not summon giant monsters into broom closets, obey the librarians, for real, and in the right hooves a screwdriver can be the most valuable thing in the universe."

"Great!" Turner clapped his hooves together. "See, that wasn't so hard."

"Yes, yes," Star Swirl mumbled. "Now will you please untie me?"

Turner glanced towards Ginny, who gave a silent gesture in response. "Soon," he said.

Star Swirl pursed his lips unhappily. He was strapped to a gurney with thick leather bands, his muzzle clamped almost immovably shut with a metal security mask, his horn blocked with a magic-suppressing metal sleeve, and the entire thing was hanging upside-down from a rope suspended over a large cauldron, in which the assembled librarians had concocted something green, bubbling, viscous, and faintly luminescent. "I promise," he said with as much humility and as little indignation as he could manage, "that I won't do any of it again, unless I am given explicit permission. Alright?"

Half an hour later, he was ushered out of the library with an impressive honor guard of librarians on either side, and an equally impressive list of conditions for his reentry.

He looked up. The sun had just set, and the first stars were peering down at him, and an involuntary blush began to creep over his face as he realized he now knew what the astronomical equivalent of a facehoof looked like.

He shook his head, and stalked down the street towards Unity Hall. Night-Mare Night was a few weeks away, and he had a costume to prepare.

Author's Note

The story of what happened in that missing week might someday be told.

Interlude: White Knight

It was a brilliant summer day, warm and bright, when a strange carriage drawn by two earth ponies drove up the road towards the ancestral estate of the ruler of the Whiteblood Barony. The carriage was closed, which was enough to mark it as out of fashion to any who saw it pass by, as any carriage made in the past twenty years was open to the skies and relied on simple enchantments to protect its travellers from bad weather, and beyond that the windows on the doors were drawn with white curtains, matching the white paint of the carriage itself. The doors were adorned with a silver cross, which was barely visible against the white background, especially in direct sunlight.

The carriage drove up to the grand facade of the mansion. It was Old Money turned into architecture, opulent and classical, and half a dozen servants waited out front, standing silently on either side of the broad marble staircase that led to the front door. On the top of the stair waited the rulers of the estate: Margrave Baron and Baroness Whiteblood. They were both white-coated earth ponies; the Baron's mane was golden and the Baroness's a rich bright green, and they were both immaculately groomed and dressed in anticipation of their visitor.

The carriage arrived, and halted. A maid filly stepped up to its side and opened the door, bowing, and the White Knight stepped out.

True to his title, the pony from the carriage was covered every inch in white, white cloth and silver armor, and a white fur cape. The silver helmet, and behind it a white veil covering his eyes, meant that even his face was invisible.

Though the helmet at least revealed that he had no horn, the noble couple could not see for themselves if he was an earth pony: it would be possible to hide pegasus wings under his armor, though highly uncomfortable. They trusted that he would not insult them in this fashion, however. He knew who he was visiting.

"Welcome, sir knight, to Whiteblood Manor," said the Baron, and all the servants bowed.

"Greetings, Lord Whiteblood, Lady Whiteblood. My master sends his regards." His voice was coarse and powerful, the helmet giving it a booming, reverberating quality. Two servants opened the front doors, and they stepped inside the main hall.

The White Knight looked around. Compared to the blazing summer day outside, the hall was like a dank cavern, in spite of the massive crystal chandelier carrying what must easily have been fifty lit wax candles. More servants lined the sides of the room and bowed as they entered. The walls were lined with portraits of past Barons, each portrait done in the same style. Emphasizing the family resemblance, the ponies were even all sitting in almost exactly the same pose, clad in the same manner. In the center of the hall a broad staircase led to the upper floor.

"A maid will show you to your room," said the Baroness. "They will bring your luggage there. If there is anything you desire, anything at all, inform a maid and she will attend to it. We will dine within the hour, you may refresh yourself until then."

"We can begin our discussions immediately," said the Baron, ignoring his wife, who in return shot him an angry glance. "We are most... interested to hear your master's proposal."

"We will speak," said the White Knight, "in private. I do not doubt you will be most-"

The Baron saw a young maid, habitually performing her duty when welcoming guests, approach the knight and begin to unfasten his helmet: at the touch, the knight fell silent and twisted sharply, viciously, and with a hoof lashed out and struck her such that she was knocked back to the floor, blood gushing from her snout.

"Did I say you could lay hoof upon me, mare?!"

The Baron's face turned from haughty and aloof to burning anger in an instant. He was not going to lose this chance. "Steel! Scabbard!" Two guards immediately appeared from around the corner. "Take her away! ...Bring her to the corrections chamber. I will attend to her later myself." He turned to the knight. "My utmost and sincerest apologies, my honored guest...! I can assure you she will be properly punished for her insult."

The White Knight noticed out the corner of his eye a lone figure standing in the shadows in a corner at the top of the stairs: a young blue unicorn looking down at him with some interest. The Baron glanced around and saw him as well, and glared, and the colt left, exiting into another upstairs room.

"Are you all complete imbecils?" the Baroness hissed at the other servants, who shook in terror. "Did anypony else sleep through the instructions I gave concerning our guest? Have you made a wreck and ruin of his bedchamber as well, perhaps? Given him the open balcony chamber, or perhaps tore open the wall to let in the night air?"

"She had better," the knight said bitterly, one hoof clamping down on the buckle on the neck holding his helmet in place. "If this is how you treat your friendly emissaries-"

"I assure you it is not! Anything I can do to make up for her gross violation, you need only ask and I shall give it."

He huffed. "I will consider the matter. Now let us proceed with our business."

"As you wish," the Baron said. "If you are still willing to entertain us..."

"My master wishes me to present his offer, and hear your response. My personal feelings do not enter into it."

"I am very pleased to hear it," the Baron said, the anger slowly fading to his customary sneer of disdain. "This way," the Baron led the knight upstairs and into his private study. Red satin drapes and mahogany furniture decorated the large chamber, and in the center a great wooden table lay covered with a map of the barony and surrounding territories.

"Whiteblood Barony," the Baron said, looking down at the map. "The largest, and oldest of the border territories. Every other noble lord across the marches is an upstart compared to us, even the second oldest is centuries younger than the Whitebloods. While they all died out, went mad, were overthrown, squandered their wealth, or simply left, we held on... We watched as the world turned decadent and feeble around us, we watched as earth ponies sullied their pure blood by mingling with pegasi and unicorns..." His eyes narrowed and his voice took on a sharper edge. "Now even griffons wander the streets of our cities with impunity. And all this happens over our objections, our advice is ignored...! In the time of my long fathers, any who disregarded the word of a Whiteblood would see himself drawn and quartered. But in this wretched age, even our word loses its power. Our ancestral home slowly crumbles. Our coffers grow thin." He turned to the White Knight, who had stood by and silently listened. "And then I receive your master's letter. It was most... evocative. He promises me power, glory, and wealth to match that of my most revered ancestors, and the chance to purge my Barony of undeserving filth. I am interested to hear the details of what he proposes... and what he asks in return."

"My master is most attuned to your concerns, milord Baron," the Knight said. "Many ponies say that there should be harmony between unequals, that all the tribes of ponies and all the other races besides can coexist in peace. We know that's not true. We know that will never be true. We know, milord Baron, my master and I, that we live in a world of absolutes. There is light and there is darkness," the Knight raised a hoof to the chestplate of his silver armor, "there is good and there is evil. All of us must pick a side, and we cannot shirk our duties."

The Baron nodded.

"The pony tribes have been at war with the Griffon Kingdom regularly for the past several hundred years. The past twenty years of peace are the blink of an eye, and an aberration. Your ancestors made their names and their fortunes upon fields of valorous battle, not in the dry halls of court. Glory was never won by a trade agreement. So long as peace remains, your wealth will diminish, and your influence will crumble."

The Baron scowled, but nodded again.

"War, however," the White Knight continued, "is a purifying fire that burns away the mold. Imagine what a war with the Griffon Kingdom, fought here along this border, would do. Every Griffon cast out of your Barony as a spy, or imprisoned. A free licence to expand your territories with every acre you can seize across the border, seize by your own strength without concern for the thoughts of others. The eyes of Everhold, and every pony nation, fixed on the Barony, with you, the Margrave Baron Whiteblood, at the center... The armies of Everhold sent here to fight for the defence of Ponykind, under your command... Imagine yourself at the head of the army, your name in the history books."

"Imagine that," the Baron muttered, his lips contorting into an unaccustomed smile.

"Where armies go, wealth follows. Bits will pour into your cities and into your coffers. What the Griffons destroy, the princesses will pay to have rebuilt. What you conquer, ponies will flock to settle, taking all their life savings with them. The great merchants will plead for your support, and pay for it as you ask."

He paused, letting the thoughts of vast fortunes fully sink in before he continued. "But of course, there is more to life than mere wealth," the White Knight said. "There is also the matter of ridding the world of the right ponies."

The Baron's smile turned into a grin.

"Now, your family, milord Baron, made your name commanding earth pony armies, the thundering charge of heavy cavalry crushing their enemies underhoof, but Griffons are sadly not susceptible to being trampled," the White Knight said. "That is where the Everhold Royal Air Force comes in. Of course, pegasi warriors are needed to fight griffons, nopony can deny. As an unavoidable consequence of this, pegasi warriors will die in much larger numbers than earth pony warriors. A tragic loss, of course, but a sacrifice that must be made to preserve the integrity of the Barony, I am sure you will agree."

"And you can make this happen?" the Baron asked. "War with the Griffon Kingdom, here in my domains?" The White Knight nodded. "In that case," the Baron said, "I think I have heard all that I need to hear. But I am still curious as to what exactly your master wants in return."

"My master's requests are reasonable," the White Knight said. "A slim portion of the great wealth that will be flooding into your domain. Your voice in the Court of Everhold, should it be needed. A place of business, with full freedom to act. Your discretion with regard to all his dealings."

"This is agreeable," the Baron said.

"Oh, and one other thing, that my master does not believe you will find objectionable," the White Knight said finally. "In war, the unexpected happens. Chaos creeps in. Ponies... disappear. My master will expect you to keep your attention focused where it matters, and know to leave issues of less importance untouched... Such as if, for instance, unicorns were to vanish from the streets, well, they are not earth ponies, after all, and tragedies happen in wars, do they not?"

"They surely do," the Baron chuckled to himself. "Nothing to be done about that."

"My master will be very pleased to hear it," the White Knight said.

A gong rang from below, signalling that dinner was served.

"Ah, dinner is ready," the Baron said. "Will you be joining us?"

"We will continue our discussion," the White Knight said. "But I will not be eating. You understand."

"Of course," the Baron said. "It will be brought to your chamber, as per your instructions."

The White Knight nodded.

– – –

There were only the three of them sitting at the dinner table, the Knight, the Baron, and his wife. All the time they ate the Baron spoke with pride about the Whiteblood legacy, and how he, with the support of the White Knight's master, would revitalize it.

The Baron emptied his wine glass, and a purple-coated maid stepped forward to refill it. The Baron looked at her and scowled. "Where is the other filly?"

"She is delivering food to young Blue Horn, milord," she answered meekly. The clatter of a fork on porcelain silenced her, and she realized her mistake. "M-my apologies, milord, but the maid who would normally do so is, well, you sent her to-" she fell silent at a wave of the Baron's hoof.

"Blue Horn?" asked the Knight. "Who is that, may I ask?"

"...My nephew," said the Baron, and his face contorted in disgust at the words. "A stain upon my bloodline. He has been staying here, but he is soon to leave, good riddance."

"From the name, I take it, he is a unicorn?"

"A freak," the Baron said. "An aberration. The rest of the world may have forgotten their corrupted conception, but Whitebloods have a long memory."

"Who knows where such a corruption of our family tree could have come from," the Baroness said sharply. Her eyes were locked on her husband, who glared back.

He dropped his knife with a soft tink against the porcelain plate, and rose from his place. "I am sated. I shall attend to the matter of disciplining the maid. My wife will attend to your wishes, sir knight."

The Baroness's eyes stabbed him from behind as he stalked away from the dining hall. The white knight observed the scene quietly.

"Our nephew," the Baroness said slowly, the words leaving a bad taste in her mouth, "will be attending the Cambridle Academy of Magic, one of the finest schools of unicorn magic in the world. Which is akin to calling it the cleanest pit of mud, or the most graceful of rotten cadavers, admittedly, but we can at least hope that he may learn something there that will make him useful to the family."

"He is not your nephew, of course," the White Knight said.

The Baroness cringed at the words, but a moment later leaned forward and put on a sultry smirk. "You're a sharp one, aren't you?" she murmured softly "Yes, he is our son, much as it pains me to admit it. My husband would very much like to believe I had a lover at the time, that some ragged, wandering conjurer of cheap tricks is the real father. But he knows perfectly well that he went to great lengths to prevent any other stallion so much as coming near me all the time we were trying for an heir. Blue Horn is his, all right, and that horn certainly didn't come from my side of the family either."

The White Knight didn't respond. His eye had turned to the great painting on the wall at the head of the table: a battle between a contingent of earth ponies, backed by the sun, against a line of shadowy entities beneath a dark storm. The earth ponies were led in their charge by a radiant, regal mare, and opposite them a black-coated unicorn snarled as she commanded the dark monsters from behind the line.

The Baroness noticed the White Knight looking, and smiled. "The Battle of Braydon Hill," she said. "Llamrei and the Steeds of the Round Stable defeat and destroy Morgan le Neigh, ending the age of unicorn rule in Braytannia. The Whiteblood family legend says that we are descended from Llamrei herself." She put her hooves together and leaned forward over the table. "...But you're not here to hear about our family history, are you? You're here for purposes of power. And much as I may despise my wretched husband, and certainly I know that whatever love he has for me is not enough to keep him away from the maid fillies, if the Whiteblood Barony grows in stature, it takes us all with it. So whatever plot he offered you... Well, I'll add my own as well. A worldly stallion like yourself no doubt knows the unique advantages of having a powerful pony's wife on your side. Just something to consider, yes?"

The White Knight nodded.

He glanced towards the windows. The dining hall faced the east, and the sun hung low above the horizon. "I must retire. I trust my accomodations have been made ready in accordance with my requests?"

"Of course," the Baroness said. "Do you wish anything sent to your room along with your food? A filly, perhaps? My husband informs me they are adequate to the purpose."

"No fillies. And no colts either. Wine. Red wine."

"Wine is the least of the pleasures I can offer you," she said, studying his movements closely, "But the wine is good."

She thought she could hear his breathing change, but if he blushed at her tone, his armor concealed it. She smirked to herself, listening to the clopping of his armored hooves.

– – –

A maid silently showed him to his room. Their instructions had been very precise. Contrary to all rules of hospitality, his room was on the ground floor, and landlocked, with no wall facing outside and no windows. The air was musty and still, like the depths of a tomb. Not even the Baron's most hated enemies would be given this room, in the event that they visited. The maid waited tensely, afraid that the guest would fly into a rage at such conditions. Instead he only nodded at her, and she curtseyed and withdrew.

An oil lamp on a table was the only source of light in the room. He sat down by it, pulled up a scroll of parchment, a quill and an a bottle of ink, from his satchel, wrote a letter.

Master,

The Baron has accepted the offer. He is exactly as you expected him to be, and his estate will serve your purposes well. I will remain and see the next phase of the plan put into motion.

Your faithful servant,

The White Knight.

He rolled up the parchment and bound it with his seal in wax. In the morning, he would send his messenger away with the usual explicit instructions: fly only in the day, be under full cover every night before the stars emerge. They were always searching for him.

The time would come when he would stand beneath the stars unhidden, and they would see all their fears come true. But until then, until they were ready, he would not be caught.

Chapter 4: Night-Mare Night (A Night in the Life of Princess Luna), part 1

Even if she hadn't been compelled by cosmological imperative to sleep all day and be up all night, Princess Luna would still not have been a morning pony. Luna had a very deep emotional connection to her bed, and left it only when it couldn't be postponed any longer, and even then only with great reluctance.

Tonight was the exception.

Once Princess Luna was sufficiently roused from sleep to be able to think coherent thoughts, her usual next step was to ignore that fact and stay right where she was for at least another hour, eventually rising and trotting very slowly to her private bathroom to confront the labyrinthine ordeal of her bed head. Tonight, however, as soon as she realized she was awake her eyes immediately opened wide and she stared up at the ceiling, her face slowly taking on a manic grin as she rubbed her hooves together with excitement.

Tonight was her favorite time of the year. Tonight was the beginning of Night-Mare Night.

Luna flipped over on her stomach and leapt from her bed, her wings extended for a short glide. Tonight, there will be feasting, she thought, as she skipped happily across her bedchamber to her magically prepared bath. There will be music. There will be cake. There will be offerings and gifts! All across the land, ponies will be celebrating in my honor. Ponies will be out, together, in my night! A night that will last through the whole day, while Celestia holds her sun below the earth and my beautiful moon rules the skies!

There is only the matter of dealing with our regular royal duties first.

She shook her head. No matter. Tonight, nothing will spoil my mood.

Half an hour later she emerged from her private quarters adorned in her regal vestments, stepping with grace and poise through the halls of Everhold Castle. The royal guard ponies saluted her as she passed, and she met them with smiles. She made for the dining hall for her breakfast, where she found Princess Celestia having her dinner. The door was closed behind her, and the two sisters were alone in the hall, not even a guard to intrude on their private time together.

"Good evening, Tia,” Luna said cheerfully as she took her seat opposite her sister at the table.

Celestia looked up from the report she was reading as she ate and smiled. "Good evening. You sound in good spirits tonight. Is there a special occasion?”

Luna stuck out her tongue at her sister, who suppressed a giggle.

"Really though, happy Night-Mare Night, Lulu, I hope it's the best one ever.”

"We can hope,” Luna said, as she picked her breakfast from the two dozen exquisite dishes laid out on the table. "Though it would be difficult to top last year. Do you remember, when the clowns turned into fireworks? And the great dance?”

"I don't think I could ever forget,” Celestia said, and laughed. "Remember Prince Argo? That thing he was wearing?" She snickered.

"His flank looked spectacular in it though," Luna said and they both exploded into laughter. After close to a full minute they quieted down, and sighed in unison.

"But, first there is the old business,” Celestia said, magically passing over a stack of papers, letters, and appeals. "Night-Mare Court will be busy. Are you going to be alright?”

"Do not worry,” Luna said, her voice muffled through a daisy sandwich. "Everything will be fine. This is my night, after all.” She gave her sister a teasing glance. "How about you, Tia, will you survive leaving the sun down this year?”

"I think a day off would be nice, actually. I haven't taken one since...”

"Since last Night-Mare Night, I think you'll find,” Luna said. "If I recall correctly you spent ten hours straight pacing in a circle in your chambers.”

Celestia blushed ever so slightly at the reminder. "I rather enjoy my work,” she sputtered. "There's nothing strange about that." Luna merely looked at her, smirking. "Anyway," Celestia said, "as a reward for being the most wonderful of sisters, and never doing or saying anything to make your sister feel self-conscious or awkward about her ways, I have a little surprise for you..."

Celestia clapped her hooves together, and a door opened. An earth pony servant rolled in a cart with a single covered platter, and pushed it to Luna, who waited with wide eyes and a childlike grin. The servant bowed. "Your Highness,” he said, and lifted the cover with his mouth to reveal a single slice of cake.

Luna's eyes widened further, her pupils growing to twice their normal size. The intoxicating aroma of the cake drifted over her and her mouth fell open as she inhaled it. "Is that-”

"It is,” Celestia said, grinning at the sight of her sister's rapture. "A Zebrican Night-Time Voyage cake, prepared in the traditional manner with real Zebrican ingredients. One slice now, the rest at the party. Just a little present from your sister. Happy Night-Mare Night, Lulu.”

After they had eaten, the two sisters left the dining hall together, and all the guards saluted them as they passed. They made for the spiralling staircase that led to the highest point of Everhold castle: the Tower of the Turning Skies.

Everything else in the world changed, but this did not. For time out of memory, the royal sisters had performed this task every turning of the clock. Nations would rise and fall, glaciers grew and receded, but Celestia and Luna were forever.

Atop the Tower was a round platform, open to the heavens, its floor a stone map of the hidden workings of the skies plotted out by ancient sages. Two circles lay opposite one another on the western and eastern points of the platform, and the two sisters positioned themselves on them, Celestia to the east and Luna to the west. They stood facing one another, as each of them worked in unison to carry their celestial bodies to its allotted place.

Luna watched the sun set behind her sister, and her sister watched the moon rise behind Luna. The brilliant red sunset faded, and Luna's black and blue drew over the world, and when the fierce sun no longer gripped the heavens, her army of lesser lights dared to come out and let their slight and soothing glimmer shine.

Luna almost wept at the sight of her beautiful moon and stars. The sky was perfectly clear, not a cloud would mar her night, and her moon was a crescent so sharp it could cut her shadow from her hooves.

When the turning was done, the two sisters stood beside each other in silence. Luna looked up with a warm grin, while Celestia simply enjoyed the sight of her sister at her happiest.

After a while of watching, Celestia cleared her throat. "Come, Lulu, we have work to do. There will be time for pleasure later.”

"Just one more minute...”

"Lulu...” Celestia said in her 'stern sister' voice.

Luna tensed up at the sound, and pouted. "Oh alright, fine." She cast one last glance up before they descended back down the tower stair. There will be more later. But now... She almost squealed at the thought of the next item on their agenda.

– – –

The throne hall was the culmination of Everhold Castle. From the entrance of the castle, a series of antechambers and broad corridors led inwards in a straight line, slowly rising on stairs with shallow, rounded steps that even the oldest stallion could scale without exertion. The first antechambers were large, simple places of public business, but each new chamber was smaller and more ceremonially decorated, growing more exclusive as a visitor entered deeper within. At the end of a long procession carefully designed to convey to the visitor that they were passing from the world of mortal concerns into a home of deities, who shaped the fate of the entire world with their actions and their words, they would come at last to the throne hall with all its pomp and splendor.

Yet, all of that was only a small part of the sprawling castle, that part which was open to the public. All around and below and above were the places where the minutiae of governing took place, the offices of civil servants, clerks and accountants, bureaucrats and functionaries, lawyers and legislators, and the servants of nobles and ambassadors who kept an eye on every happening of Court and made sure the Princesses did not forget them when they were away, however hard the Princesses tried. The Everhold armed forces occupied huge chunks of space, complete with great training areas inside and outside the castle walls. The Royal Archive had a whole wing of its own, and employed a small army of scribes and librarians to keep it running, and the kitchen and storerooms to keep them all fed was like a city to itself.

The throne hall was as far as an ordinary subject of Everhold could hope to see, and beyond it was the Princesses' private palace, their sanctuary where no-one except those specifically invited on particular occasions could enter, no matter their office or status. To do so was punishable by banishment, and imprisonment in a dungeon the Princesses maintained in the place to which ponies were banished.

Here each Princess had their own office, connected by another, larger office they shared between them. The princesses sat in the shared office then, hard at work: Celestia doing paperwork, and Luna attempting to do paperwork but finding it difficult to concentrate and tapping her hoof impatiently on the stone floor.

"It will get here when it gets here,” Celestia said. Luna harrumphed, and was about to reply when there was a knock on the door.

The night princess immediately turned, face beaming. "It's here!”

"Possibly,” Celestia said, and turning to the door said more loudly, "Come in.”

The door opened and two armored earth pony guards saluted, and entered. One of them was carrying a big sack over his back. "Mail call, your majesties,” the first guard said.

"Yes!” Luna leapt in the air. Celestia rolled her eyes. The guards made no response whatsoever.

"Put it on the table there, please,” Celestia said. Luna had made sure to have a conference table kept clear of everything for this moment. The guard poured the contents of the sack onto the table in front of the eager princess, and then withdrew from the office and closed the door behind them.

Luna's smile dampened. "It's not very much. Last year it covered the table.”

Celestia glanced over to her sister. The table was very large. The pile of letters and parcels on top of it was not very large. It was a respectable pile by any ordinary standard, but “annual tribute to the Princess of Night on Her holinight” was not an ordinary standard, and positioned as it was on the huge conference-style table, its inadequacy was apparent.

Luna pored over the mail, separating the simple letters and cards from the gifts and tributes. Celestia watched with some concern as her sister's smile turned to a frown as she quickly reduced the pile to a few neat stacks. One of the stacks stood off to the side, and was noticeably larger than the rest. “Is something wrong?”

“This,” Luna said sharply, gesturing to the lone large stack, “is just ordinary mail. That was half of everything. This cannot be right, there must be a great calamity of some sort occurring in the mail room!”

“This is only the first mail call of the night,” Celestia said. “I'm sure most of it will arrive in time for the big party.”

“You think so?”

“I'm sure of it.” Celestia joined her sister by the conference table and began going through the ordinary mail. It was the usual stuff, mostly: pleas for special gifts, bloated proclamations from self-involved nobility, letters of thanks for decisions the writer had agreed with, letters of condemnation from decisions the writer had not agreed with, sometimes from the same writer...

Luna had been reading through the letters of tribute, and slowly her smile had returned, along with a few chortles at particularly witty, or particularly daring messages. Halfway through she looked up and saw Celestia rearranging her half of the mail into smaller stacks. “What are you doing?” Luna asked.

“This is for me,” Celestia said, pointing to a small stack on one side. “This,” she pointed to the second stack, the largest, “is for both of us, and this,” the third stack was smaller again, “is for you. The rest is for any councilpony you feel has not been suitably respectful of late," she finished with a smirk.

Luna looked skeptical. “I took everything that was for me already.”

“Perhaps you should take a second look.”

Luna harrumphed and picked up the top letter and began to read it. “To Princess Celestia, Ruler of the Day, we express our endless gratitude to you for ensuring the speedy construction of the floodbanks by our shores. In the few years since they have protected us from the storms and floods that claimed lives and did massive damage to our town every hurricane season..." She stopped reading and turned a glare on her sister.

Celestia sighed. “They're giving thanks for things you did, Lulu. Be gracious.”

“But they're giving you all the credit!”

“They're just confused,” Celestia said. “Nopony out there pays much attention to Everhold and royal concerns, they're busy enough with their own affairs. Look on the bright side. You've touched their lives and made a difference.”

Luna winced. “...Fine.”

Celestia yawned. “It's getting late for me. What's next on the schedule?”

Luna brought up the plan and searched it. “Several nobles have requested private audiences with us. They have requested them most... generously.”

"I see. Do you want me to go with you?"

"Nonsense, Tia," Luna scoffed. "This is your night off, remember? I will attend to this."

"If you say so," Celestia said, rising to her hooves. "I will be retiring to my chambers for tonight then. I'll see you in the morning."

Luna smiled. "It won't be morning," she said. "But yes, I will see you later. Have a good sleep, Tia." She waved. Tia smiled, and left.

Luna remained in the shared office until, all too soon, she had read through all her mail. She brought it with her into her own office, threw open her window and took a long gaze up at the sky. The stars looked down at her, and again she felt it: They are unhappy. They are waiting for something that they wish to avoid, and they look to me...

She sighed, and turned away, no closer to solving this mystery than she had been for years. She took a seat behind her desk, and called for the first noble on the list to be sent in.

After close to two hours, Luna was beginning to regret that she hadn't accepted Celestia's offer, but she quickly shook the thought from her head. There had only been a few of the nobles insisting – and accompanying their insistence with gracious offerings – that their business deserved the private attention of the Princesses rather than the open discussions of Court, but though they were few in number they excelled at filling the time. Their requests were nothing very interesting or special: the usual petitions and disputes, the usual assortment of petty complaints she had heard a hundred thousand times before over her long life...

“Upon consideration, Lady Bluebell, we have decided that thou may have the fields west of the river, but acorn harvesting rights to the forest shall revert to the farmer's league. Is that all?”

“Yes, your highness,” Lady Bluebell, a richly bejeweled unicorn, bowed before Luna and then left. Luna sighed. Think of the party, she told herself, and smiled. She looked at her list. Only one remained to see her tonight. “Send in Baron Whiteblood.”

The door was opened and a tall earth pony stallion with a regal bearing entered. “Your highness,” he bowed. Luna looked him over: the Baron was a white earth pony with a golden mane and a crossed-spears cutie mark, dressed in a red suit, “dyed in the blood of his enemies,” he would say, as was the tradition of his house.

Luna nodded. “Arise, Baron.” He rose. “Thou hath requested a private audience with a Princess of Everhold, rather insistently. What is it thou wishest to tell us?”

“Your highness, I come to speak on behalf of the assembled Baronies of the border marches, to bring news and humbly request Everhold's support,” the Baron said. “There is unrest along the border, I am sure this has not escaped your notice.”

It had. “Is there?” Luna asked. “What manner of unrest is that?”

“Griffons,” the Baron said. “Your highness, griffons are massing across the border in great numbers. Excursions into our lands are becoming more frequent. Crime is rising, ponies do not feel safe travelling the roads. Our militias are stretched thin and our resources run low. I come to request the support of Everhold in confronting this challenge and upholding the integrity of the border.”

I can see where this is going, Luna thought. “And what manner of support didst thou foresee Everhold providing?”

“The aid of the Royal Everhold Air Force in patrolling the border. A correction in the laws to allow us to expel griffon indigents more efficiently. A toll on cross-border trade, the proceeds of which to go to strengthening and expanding the Barony militias.”

Luna sat silently for a moment, her face unreadable. The Baron watched her carefully while copying her calm.

“Permit us to ask a few questions, to clarify, Baron,” Luna eventually said. “We are not at war with the Griffon Kingdom, are we? We are certain that we would have noticed.”

“Perhaps not officially, at this moment,” the Baron said calmly. “And yet-”

“We have watched, with interest, the growth of griffon settlements near to our border. We understand it opens for great trade opportunities, but beyond that we fail to see why it should concern us. Thou speakest of excursions into our lands. When last we checked, there was a treaty which permitted open crossing of our borders, no? So griffons visit and travel in our lands, and ponies do the same in theirs.”

“That is indeed part of the problem-”

“We am quite familiar with the criminal statistics as well, but we do not recall any rise in griffon involvement. Perhaps thou knowest something we do not... but we doubt it.”

“I know only what I see and what my subjects tell me,” the Baron said. “Perhaps from a thousand miles away you have a better perspective, but I am alas confined to observing up close.”

Luna gave the Baron a glare that would freeze the blood of lesser ponies. “Griffon King Blaze is a friend of Everhold, who has ruled honorably in all his years on the throne,” she said in a voice that could cut through steel. “We do not imagine that we will have cause to fear him in his lifetime. Beyond that, thy wishes are unreasonable, short-sighted, and contradictory to all the principles of Everhold's rule. Thy request is denied, Baron. Do you have anything else to say?”

The Baron looked irritated rather than angry. “That is regrettable, your highness, and I would ask you to reconsider. I will happily answer all your questions and provide any proof you may require.”

“This decision is final, Baron. Do not waste your efforts.”

“With all respect, your highness, I fear you are letting your friendship with King Blaze cloud your judgement. Perhaps it would be best to ask for your sister's opinion?”

The room suddenly grew colder, until the woodwork holding the stone began to creak. A powerful gust of wind howled through the open window, where previously the night air was peaceful and still. The candles flickered and died, and Luna's mane began to grow and shift of its own volition. Her shadow grew and flowed over the room, surrounding the Baron. Luna stepped forward as though she were part of the darkness itself rather than a physical being, closing until her snout was right in front of the Baron's eyes. She bared her teeth, clenched together in barely-contained fury, and hissed: “Get. Out.”

The door creaked open behind the Baron. Slowly, he turned and trotted out without another word. The door slammed shut behind him, and slowly the shadows faded away, and the light returned, and Luna crossed over to the conference table and sat down, staring at nothing. Taking deep breaths, she composed herself.

She telekinetically pulled a rope that set a bell ringing in a nearby chamber, and shortly afterwards a servant entered, and bowed. “May I help you, your highness?”

“I will have my luncheon now. Have it brought here.” She watched him bow and leave the room, noting the nervous tension in his step.

Outside Luna's office, Baron Whiteblood calmly brushed a speck of dust off his suit, and stalked away down the hall, smiling to himself.

– – –

After eating her lunch, Luna picked out and put on the richest of her ceremonial vestments: the Crown of Night, a constellation of jewels, her finest silver slippers, and her black, silver-threaded dress that glimmered and sparkled wherever the light caught it. Thus attired, she entered the throne hall just as the castle bell tolled the hour one in the morning. It was time for Night Court.

An ordinary Night Court consisted of a sparse and scattered assortment of supplicants, often the ones who were the most desperate: those who could not leave and wait for Celestia to hear them in the day, and could not afford to bribe their way to a private audience. But this should be no ordinary Night Court.

“Her Royal Highness Luna Selena Artemis Phoebe Noctis, Night-Mare Moon, Princess of the Night!” the royal guard announced as she entered, and every pony in the room bowed. She scanned the assembled ponies, not recognizing anyone. She ascended the steps to the throne and sat down, and the crowd rose back on their hooves.

Luna took a deep breath. “We hereby declare this Night Court opened!”

The Chamberlain of the Night Court, an ancient stallion in thick green robes read the name of the first petitioner of the session. A young civil servant from somewhere in the bowels of Everhold Castle emerged from the crowd and rose to the speaker's podium, and began to speak: “Your highness, I regret to inform you that a complication has been found in the execution of Royal Edict PCB45, section eight sub-section twenty-nine paragraph fifteen which requires your urgent attention.”

The civil servant continued talking for half an hour without pause, explaining in his best legalese the minute details of Everhold cargo transport law. The problem seemed to revolve around two contradictory pieces of paperwork that a certain type of cargo, being shipped to a particular place, under specific circumstances, would invoke. Luna proclaimed an exemption from one of the two forms in the event that the situation ever come about. It took her four seconds. The civil servant left, breathlessly offering his everlasting gratitude for so decisively and expeditiously resolving this perplexingly insurmountable conundrum.

“Step forth the next petitioner!”

The Chamberlain read the next name, and a middle-aged mare approached the podium. Luna studied her face. She was of the desperate breed, nervous and unaccustomed to Court, having no idea what to do. "Thou hast something to ask of us, subject?" Luna suggested, and the mare shivered in fright before falling to her stomach. After a few seconds of silence she began to speak:

"Your highness, I come to beg for mercy for my husband, he's imprisoned in the dungeons!"

Luna glanced to the side of the throne, where the Court Archivist was already ready. "A mister Artful Trotter, your majesty, he was arrested while burgling a house two nights ago."

"Why, then, should we restrain our justice for your husband, subject?" Luna asked, and prepared to listen to her tale of woe.

It was a good tale, all things considered. It had broken families, great misfortunes that nopony could hope to overcome on their own, and true love that bound the mare together with her husband and drove him to commit his crime in order to support his family. As such it was a #16 on Luna's mental list of such stories, but she was mildly surprised to note, after some subtle mental prodding, that the mare was being completely truthful.

Luna thought back wistfully to her young years on the throne, when the Court was new to her and everypony had wanted to kiss her hoof, and hear her thoughts on the weighty matters of the night. She had been young and naïve, and had shown such mercy as this mare was asking for to far too many, far too easily. Yet she remembered how it had warmed her heart, in those distant nights, to think that she was touching the lives of her subjects and giving them joy and happiness. Whereas tonight, she instead had to respond: "Step forth to the Court Archivist and he shall givest thee a form to fill out. Thou qualifiest for Dependent's Relief for ponies whose relatives are serving a gaol sentence. It may takest a number of weeks before thy application is fully processed."

Compassion and mercy, thou art regulated to within an inch of thy life, Luna thought. To be sure, all ponies are equal before the law, and it helps ensure that aid goes where it is needed, but still... thy noble spirit is choked by chains of bureaucracy. I did not help you, my subject, I merely shuffled you along. She sighed. "Let the next petitioner come forth!" Dear Faust, give this one something important to say.

“Your highness, I require two thousand bits to restore my father's house, or else it will no longer be the twelfth finest house in Trottingham and my family's standing will collapse.”

– – –

By the start of the final hour of Night Court, everypony had already made their pleas, and Luna only sat on the throne, leaning her face on her left forehoof, waiting. Eventually the bell tolled six in the morning, and the night princess declared the Court closed. She descended from the throne and trotted back to her chambers slowly, her head drooping.

She breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of her heavy chamber doors slamming shut behind her. She looked around her private living quarters: just the way she had left them, dark and silent.

The grey stone of Everhold Castle symbolized the blending of light and darkness. While other nobles sought to make their palaces forbidding, with dazzling, blinding bright and splendor, Everhold was made to be soft and easy to behold. The private chambers of the two princesses were the exception: Celestia's rooms were pristine marble, filled with gold and fire, while Luna's own chambers were ebony, indigo, and ornamented all around with silver and dark gemstones. Tall vaulted windows stood open, with thin silken curtains that were enchanted so that sunlight could not pass through them, but starlight and moonlight could. With every gust of wind that sent the curtains billowing, the silver and gemstones all around the room flashed and glittered as the light hit them. This was Luna's inner sanctum, and apart from her sister, no creature then living had ever set hoof inside it.

Luna crossed the chamber to the couch just inside the windows, and lay down flat on her stomach, and stayed there watching her night sky. She remained that way for a very long time, not moving, barely even blinking, as the stars wheeled overhead, and the moon...

The moon was still, locked in place high above the horizon, not sinking. Tonight, it was allowed to rule, while the sun remained below the earth.

Luna gave a brief glance towards her bed. On any other night, she would be sorely missing it and longing to return to its warm embrace. But while the moon remained in the sky, she would not grow tired.

At least, not that kind of tired.

– – –

Shortly before what would be sunrise on any normal day, Celestia rose and made her way to the dining hall for her breakfast, where she found Luna idly stabbing her salad with a fork.

“Hello Tia,” Luna muttered, barely looking up.

“Mrrn'n Lulu,” Celestia mumbled. “Coffee?”

It's not morning, Tia, Luna thought to herself, but levitated the kettle to pour her sister a cup. Celestia sipped from it, and in the span of a second her coat went from ruffled to sleek, her mane went from lying flat and tangled on her head to shimmering softly in a nonexistent breeze, and her face went from a mess of wrinkles and tension to a picture of serene radiance.

“You know, sister,” Celestia said, “I don't think anypony truly realizes just how much the discovery of coffee contributes to our political stability. I honestly believe that the last Civil War was won by coffee.”

Luna grunted something in reply.

“Bad night?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Luna said. “Everything will be fine later... at the party.”

After eating, they returned to their shared office and found the morning mail waiting for them.

“I am telling you, Tia, the mailmares must be stealing from us," Luna scoffed at the paltry pile laid out on one end of the conference table. "Or possibly they are under some sort of chemical influence. There is no possible way that this can be all there is!”

Celestia nodded absent-mindedly while poring over a report from the castle treasury.

“I will go down there myself and give them a piece of my mind,” Luna muttered under her breath. “Who steals from Night-Mare Moon courts destruction...”

Celestia nodded, until she caught up with what she had just heard. “Let me do that, Lulu. You should be preparing for the Court. You still want to do it, I suppose?”

Luna looked up at her sister with a shocked expression. “Of course I will. Do not be ridiculous, Tia. This is Night-Mare Night. It is Our duty.”

– – –

On the midpoint of Night-Mare Night, Princess Luna held the Night-Mare Court, at what would normally be the time of the Day Court. In principle, it was no different from any other Court session, but some ceremonial adjustments marked the occasion. The throne hall of Everhold was lit by enchanted flames that gave off light in the colors of the night, and all the banners and curtains of the hall were coated in magical shadow that shimmered and danced and, rumour told, would steal away a piece of your dreams if you looked into them too closely.

Once again Luna entered the Hall in her full regalia, and once again the guardspony announced her entrance with her full name and titles. She ascended to the throne, and looked out across the assembly. A far cry from the Night Court crowd, the hall was filled with the highest nobles of the land, and scores of ponies of all ranks besides. Luna smiled. Things were looking up. She raised a hoof, and began to speak in the Royal Everhold Voice:

“We welcome thee, unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies, to our court! Tonight is an occasion dear to our heart: Night-Mare Night, when ponies across the realm celebrate our night, and ask for our blessings. Speak, and know that thy Princess of the Night will hear thee! We declare this Night-Mare Court opened!”

The hall was silent again when Luna had finished. After some moments the first petitioner, an earth pony mare with gold and silver jewelry and a necklace cutie mark, stepped forward and cleared her throat. Her voice was meek and mild, and she delivered Luna's first request of the Court:

“Um, to be truthful, your majesty, my request is more of a daytime concern. Would it be possible to deliver it to Princess Celestia instead?”

Luna watched the mare, unblinking. Soon, she shrank and withered beneath the weight of the Princess's gaze.

“On Night-Mare Night,” Luna declared, “thou speakest to us. Make thine request, or else withdraw it.”

“Y-y-yes your highness,” the mare shook in fear, holding a scroll up in front of her as a shield. “I-I was hoping to offer the services of my jewellers shop to the Princess, and prepare pieces especially for the Sharing Thanks festival, in exchange for a minor royal recognition!”

Luna's eyes narrowed ominously. “This is a daytime concern, subject?”

“Uh – I – um -”

“We regret to inform thee that thine offer is not suitable for our needs at this time! Thou may leave.” Luna gestured her away with a hoof and she was quickly ushered out of the hall by the guards. “Let the next petitioner step forward!”

“First, allow me to present a humble tribute to Night-Mare Moon, upon her night,” the next in line said. He was an elderly, impeccably groomed pegasus with a pince-nez, who had clearly attended Court many times before. He held up a small package, wrapped in dark paper with a glittering ribbon tied around it, for the Princess. She accepted it with a nod, levitated it up to her and held it in her hooves. She smiled gently. The pegasus cleared his throat. “However, with all respect, your highness, are these ceremonies entirely necessary?” he asked. “In this dim light, I am finding it hard to read my statement.”

A low wave of murmurs was heard from ponies across the hall.

Luna bit the inside of her cheek. The old stallion was polite and respectful, and had given her the first offering of the Court. To dismiss him would be seen as most ungracious. And yet, he was asking for the ceremonies of Night-Mare Night to be held off. Did he not see how rude his comment was? She looked across the darkened hall. The other ponies had reacted to his statement, but there were no horrified gasps at an unpardonable faux pas. The murmurs, she thought, sounded more like ones of agreement, though the very notion shocked her.

The pegasus was an old stallion, she thought to herself. His eyesight was weak, and she reminded herself that not everypony had her perfect night vision to begin with. She would be gracious, and make a compromise. She glanced over to one of the unicorn guardsponies standing at attention along the outer walls of the hall, caught his eye, and gestured towards the pegasus.

The clip-clop of ironshod hooves on the stone floor rang loud and sharp through the hall, as nopony else made a sound. The unicorn guard drew up alongside the pegasus, and his horn shimmered with a simple lighting spell that cast a pale illumination on the petitioner. “Ah, thank you your highness,” he said, and smiled, before launching into his prepared statement. Luna did not smile. The sight of the unicorn - a royal guardspony of Everhold - acting as a lamp, was undignified, awkward, and foalish.

The pegasus recited his statement, and Luna absent-mindedly assented, barely noticing as he was led away, and the next, an earth pony mare, stepped forward. With a glance, Luna commanded the guardspony back to his position, but as he trotted away the petitioner coughed, and said, “Oh, could I also have the...” Luna turned a persuasively menacing glare on her, and she squealed and backtracked. “Oh, um, very well your highness. I represent the united saddlemakers of the Reinland, and we wish to discuss a lessening of the tax on leather substitute materials.”

Luna tuned her out as she delved into the details of her complaint; she knew the details by heart, having heard complaints about the law countless times before. None of the earlier petitions had been successful, and this would not be either. Luna sent her away disappointed.

The next in line was a pink unicorn with a brown mane, and saddlebacks filled with scrolls of parchment, who had been fidgeting nervously almost since the beginning of the Court. Now he was pushed forward and gulped. “Your highness,” he said, and bowed, then quickly got up, then changed his mind and bowed again, only longer. “I bring a message and a request from the Earl of Derby. For the past two months, after a severe earthquake, his territory has been afflicted with dire problems...” Luna remembered the earthquake well, and nodded. "My lord wishes to express his utmost gratitude for the aid he has already received from Everhold, but regrets that the damages were even more extensive than at first appeared. The drinking water has been polluted, and disease is rampant across the territory. My lord's coffers are spent. Fresh drinking water must be transported in large quantities across the mountains to reach the victims, and a great aqueduct must be constructed for the long-term. I have brought all the plans for the proposal, with cost estimates... My lord regrets that he must ask for such a tremendous expense, but he sees no other choice." The pony levitated up the plans for Luna's perusal, and ended by saying, “I humbly ask that I receive an answer immediately, that I may return to my master in all haste, before the situation deteriorates beyond repair.”

Luna glanced over the documents. Finding no irregularities, she nodded. “Very well, courier. We have heard thy master's request, and have decided. Thou mayest return to the Earl and tell him that that we will grant him his wish, and wish him good fortune in restoring safety to his lands forthwith. Good winds carry thee swiftly on thy way!”

The petitioner did not seem relieved to hear his request granted. He took a few steps away from the speaker's podium, but stopped, and looked back hesitantly.

“Dost thou have more thy wish to say to us, subject?”

He gulped. “Your highness, it's just that... It is of the utmost importance to my master that he learns the answer to his suit immediately, and he realizes it is not a trivial request he is making... You are certain this will be alright? It would be terrible for my master if I deliver this message now, only to find that Princess Celestia disagreed and refused it tomorrow when... she... returns.”

Darker shadows were now crawling organically around the throne, while Luna sat entirely unmoving, her glare locked on the petitioner.

Luna was once again not entirely sure how to respond to this. She could have the pony thrown into the deepest dungeon, of course. She could revoke her acceptance of his wish to punish his impertinence. She had certainly done such things countless times over the years, to petitioners who knew no respect for the Crown of Night. But the constancy of her word was exactly what was being called into question, and going back on it now might make her feared, but not respected. She could pointedly inform him that her word was law, on equal hoofing with her sister, but that would be a humiliation, to argue with some lowly petitioner, to have to defend her position. She was a Princess of Everhold, and she did not need to justify herself to anypony.

“You doubt thy princess's words.”

He began to sputter apologetic denials. Luna silenced him with a gesture. “Be thankful that thy Princess honors her promises in all things, else thy master's misfortune would be all on thy head. Now begone from our sights!”

The next petitioner had spent the entire time so far immersed in his papers, paying no attention to anything around him. He stepped up to the podium, saw Luna sitting on the throne, and with a look of surprise said, “Oh! Your highness. Could you deliver this message to Celestia?”

The clack of Luna's hoof striking the floor echoed through the hall. With a flap of her wings she rose from the throne and hovered, surrounded by shadows, in the air. A burst of thunder was heard through the walls. “Let me be entirely clear, my – our subjects! Thou comest to the Royal Court of Everhold upon Night-Mare Night. In the Night-Mare Court, thou speakest to US, the Princess of the Night, not to our sister! If thou doubtest thine princess, if thou dost not believe that our word carries as much weight as our sister, then leave now for thy suits will not be heard, and anyone who dares ask so again will spend a long time in the dungeons! Is this clear?” Her eyes moved across the hall slowly. Nopony so much as breathed, even the aged nobles who had been to Court a thousand times looked up at her in shock. Slowly, each flap of her wings sending gusts of wind across the crowd, Luna descended again, and returned to the throne.

“Let us proceed,” she said coldly.

– – –

The tower bell rang once, announcing the passing of the first hour of the Court. It is bound to improve now, Luna thought to herself.

There was a point of contention involving just about every noblepony in the realm that featured prominently in the Court that night. A wealthy duchy in the center of Prance had lost its duke; the old pony had died from the feather fever, leaving behind no heir. A multitude of distant relations had laid claim to the position, and from there things had rather gotten out of hoof. Now multiple noble families were at each other's throats about countless barely-related issues, and ancient slights and feuds were rekindled. Luna got to be intimately familiar with every detail as a long line of nobles attempted to use her as a club with which to bash their rivals' heads. One by one they came before her to have her reaffirm their various ancestral claims, name them the Lord Protector of this or that, the legitimate descendant of one historical ruler or another, or give them monetary support or authority to carry out various projects that would enrich themselves at the expense of a hated distant cousin's businesspartner's sister-in-law's uncle's property values.

Luna didn't know which of those ponies was hated. Possibly they all were.

In addition to that, there were the sundry other opportunities that the aristocracy always leapt at. Rich land to be mined, fishing rights to be conceded, a city in need of a royally sanctioned shoesmith... Luna bore it all with stoic dignity, answering each request swiftly and justly.

It didn't take long before the assembled courtiers began to grumble amongst themselves again. Luna paid it little heed at first, but as the second hour drew on she noted the courtiers began to address her more sharply, even confrontationally, and their attention to royal etiquette faded.

“...for which purpose my family should be given the concession for the gem mines that have recently been opened in the Withertop Hills.”

“We will consider your proposal alongside the others who have requested that concession,” Luna said, stifling a yawn. This mare was the third pony tonight to make that exact request, and Luna knew there had been others in the past few days since the news of the gem node's discovery had been made public. Luna caught sight of the mare's scowl before she turned away and retired to the nave of the hall. Why are they all so grim, Luna thought to herself.

The next was a pegasus stallion dressed in the fashion of a Prench officer, a Cavalier. He stepped up to the podium and made his statement: like so many others, a request for special favors for his benefactors, expounded at great length and with much rhetorical flourish. Luna gave him the usual, reasonable concessions.

The Cavalier scowled at her response, nodded curtly, and turned to walk away.

“Stop,” Luna said. He halted. “Wherefore art thou unsatisfied?”

The stallion turned back to face the princess, his plain resentment tempered with a nervous tension in his stance. “Your highness?”

“We asked thee a question, cavalier. Dost thou think thou art treated unfairly? We would have thee tell us.”

The cavalier hesitated, clearly unhappy at the question. Luna's eyes narrowed. “Well?”

“Your highness...” he began, “is swift to command... and demand, of the Court toda- tonight.”

“Are we not thy Princess?” Luna asked. “Dost thou not come to us seeking our time and our favors?”

“...Yes, your highness.”

“We hear thy petitions and give them our full consideration, and if they have merit, we rule in thy favor. Why, then, dost thou frown as though whipped like a diamond dog?”

The cavalier glanced to his sides, catching the eyes of various other nobles who looked equally unhappy. He sighed, and turned back to Luna. “Your highness, there is a certain courtesy afforded in Court. It is in the word, if you will. This Court is filled with the noblest of ponies, who have proven our worth in service to the Crown, and who feel that we have earned the right to be addressed with respect, rather than...” his face scrunched up in disgust. “Than as mere commoners, to be processed and left behind as soon as possible. You have been answering the great peers of the realm the same way you answer the petty concerns of the peasantry.”

The silence was interrupted by the bell tolling the end of the second hour.

“Respect?” Luna said, turning the full concentration of her anger on the cavalier. “Thou speakest to us of respect? Thou, who come to us upon our night, and make thy petty demands for honors thou have not earned and do not need? Who would use us as a weapon in thy little squabbles for wealth and power? If any here should ask for respect, it is us! This is Night-Mare Night, foal, and we have watched over it since before thy most ancient ancestors were born!” She rose from the throne as she spoke with her most commanding tone, a spectacle that commonly reduced whoever she was addressing to whimpering apologies.

Luna was shocked to find that it left the cavalier unmoved. He actually rolled his eyes.

“Yes, yes, Night-Mare Night,” he said, as though addressing a petulant child. “We have already heard. But the governance of the realm does not pause for your amusement. Our business is not tailored to Night-Mare Night. We are here to concern ourselves with the governance of the realm, not with holiday celebrations.”

“And yet this is the night thou comest before me,” Luna said.

The cavalier waved a hoof dismissively. “I did not check the calendar. That it was tonight was completely unknown to me. I am here to resolve an issue of importance to the governance of my home, not to tell the Princess what she wishes to hear.”

"Enough!" Luna roared, and the blast of her stamping hoof rang through the hall. Now we are arguing with the courtiers. Well done, Lulu. Most regal, most dignified. “This... disorder, this frivolous display of tawdry bickering will cease immediately! If thou canst not comport thyself with dignity appropriate to thy station then leave forthwith or else find thyself a cell in the dungeons!”

“Fine,” the cavalier said. “Clearly this Court is incapable of functioning properly. I shall wait until my request can be heard by Celestia instead, at least she takes her Court seriously.” He turned and began to walk away.

Luna's jaw dropped. “You dare speak to us this way? Hold!” He kept walking. “STOP!”

He stopped walking. Without turning back to face Luna, he said, “I am only following the Princess's instructions.”

“You insulted our Court, you insulted our Night, and you think to simply walk away?!”

“Prove me wrong!” he said, turning back to Luna. “Show yourself to be sound in judgement and let the Court proceed as your sister would, with fairness and courtesy.” He narrowed his gaze on her and lowered his voice to a deep whisper. “Or don't.”

Luna was pressing her hooves against the rests on the sides of the throne so hard she suspected they might leave marks on the solid stone. All around the hall, the courtiers whispered amongst themselves, eyeing her criticall, waiting to see how she would respond. There was no respect, and no patience in their eyes. Only contempt.

Luna swallowed her anger and closed her eyes. “...Fine.”

She slumped back in the throne, defeated. Her voice dripped with bitterness as she asked: “How may we help thee with thy cause, sir cavalier?”

Over the next couple of hours, the mood changed as the ceremonial formality of Court drained away, fading into an atmosphere of triviality.

“Order in the Court!” Luna commanded, and the noise in the hall dampened for at least a while. The courtiers and petitioners had begun chatting idly amongst themselves, catching up with old friends, joking and laughing. They are behaving as though they are at a garden party in midsummer, Luna thought to herself. They barely seem to remember that I am here.

She stoically turned her attention to the next petitioner. “What wouldst thou ask of us, Sir Shane?”

“Your highness,” he began, and Luna could actually see him skip over several paragraphs of praise and supplication from his prepared statement, “my family needs a special exemption from the Tariff on Heavy Materials Act of the Year of the Feather in order to import Saddle Arabian bricks to reinforce the foundations of Buckinghorse Palace. It is in the interests of the Realm.”

“Granted. Is there anything else?”

“Yes, your highness, we also wish for a five-lane cobblestone road to be constructed between the Palace and Westwhinster town, so my mother will not need to worry about traffic.”

“Very well.”

“In addition, we would be eternally grateful if your majesty could see clear to ordering construction of a fifty-kilotonne dam across the Chames.”

“So be it.”

“And for centuries now, Hoofellyn mountain has impeded travel and sight range for our scouts. The chance of succesful attack upon Glenland by sea would be greatly reduced if the mountain could be removed. This task is beyond my family's means, but with adequate support from Everhold it could be done.”

Luna sank deeper into the throne. “Remove a mountain?”

“It would be a great help, your highness.”

“This seems somewhat excessive, does it not?”

“Perhaps only the tallest peaks? They block the view of the sunset from my mother's bedroom.”

“We do not believe...” Luna began, but winced at the eruption of grumbling from the assembled crowd.

“Just one peak? Everything above two thousand feet? Our summer garden parties could continue for another forty minutes before the temperature drops too low. Please?”

“Fine!” Luna yelled, her mask slipping. “I shall have your mountain removed! Now please let the next pony speak!”

“Thank you so much, your highness!” Sir Shane said, and fled the hall with a poorly-concealed smirk. As he crossed the gate out Luna heard him snicker and say to the pony beside him, “I seriously didn't expect even one of those-”

“Order in the Court!” Luna commanded again as the chatter returned, at a slightly louder volume than before.

By the sixth and final hour, Luna was barely holding her head up. The Court was a circus, the remaining courtiers treating it as a social occasion, laughing with their friends. Glasses of wine and hard cider were being passed around. Her dark throne hall was illuminated by a multitude of lights, as every unicorn now threw their magic into pushing back against the ceremonial décor of Night-Mare Night. Luna had given up on stopping them; anything she did now to regain her authority only drew laughter and mockery.

Yet another in the endless line of petitioners began to speak: a unicorn mare whose stilted body language and plain white dress, a scholar's robe, marked her as foreign to the nobility. Her voice was nasal and flat, her tone was dry.

"Your highness, I should like to bring a proposal for a scientific expedition to your attention,” she said. Luna raised an eyebrow in interest. The mare spoke with respect and courtesy. “It has come to the attention of my associates and myself that an interesting conflux of magical energies is active around the area of Kimberneigh, in South Zebrica...”

Luna nodded, dredging up what she knew of the area. Kimberneigh, she knew, was the site of one of the largest diamond mines in the world, and one of the major pony settlements in Zebrica.

"My colleagues and I have designed a machine to attempt to harness these latent energies and crystallize them into a material form suitable for transport. Doing so would allow us to facilitate tremendous advances in magical studies..."

The mare kept talking about the scientific benefits of crystallized magic: it could be easily shipped anywhere in the world, allowing it to be studied in the absence of unicorn sorcerers, it could be divided and quantified and distributed where it was most needed, and could usher in a new age of scholarly advances. Luna, meanwhile, was thinking that the machine the mare was describing could create diamonds out of thin air. It could hardly be coincidence that this conflux happened to be located on one of the world's largest diamond nodes. With this machine, Luna thought, Everhold would have infinite wealth, infinite opportunities... and this mare was only prattling on about dry matters of academic research, oblivious to the possibilities.

"Our machine is in the preliminary testing phase, and the early results are greatly promising. We have all the logistics in place needed to begin large-scale production, but need only the resources to do so. We have prepared a proposal for your perusal," she said and levitated a thick scroll of parchment to the Princess, which opened and rolled out to cover twenty feet of floor. "All the necessary information is within. With Everhold's support, we hope to greatly increase our understanding of arcane energy flux theory and spread new knowledge about unicorn magic across the continent!" she finished breathlessly, clearly utterly consumed with the prospect of gleaning new knowledge and entirely uninterested in material wealth.

Luna looked over the text of the proposal. Dry and heavy, and to her experienced eyes, sloppy in all the right ways. It would be so easy to snatch the machine and all the diamonds it would create out from under their nose, all while letting them have their pittance of scholarly knowledge.

Luna listened intently as the mare explained the intricacies of their proposed operation, an explanation filled with technical jargon and unnecessary detail that stretched out to comprehensive lengths. Finally the scientist reached the end of her presentation, and concluded: “All the preparations have been made and we require only your approval for the plan before we set it in motion.” She smiled.

Luna nodded slowly. “So, in summary, if we accede to thine request we will hand the keys of the Royal Treasury to thee and thy compatriots in exchange for a pittance, which we will receive from thee sometime after the sun and the moon both fall from the heavens?”

The mare's smile froze. “Ah...”

“Or did we mistake some aspect of thy thesis? It seems to us thy proposed we invest in a plan to conjure infinite wealth out of thin air, with no guarantee of any return beyond our own optimism, and no command upon thee to demonstrate any possibility of success. Is this not so?”

“Well...”

“In addition we see that for thy work in this project thine proposed contract declares in a most ingeniously circumspect and contorted fashion that there will be no restriction upon the resources allocated to thee from the royal coffers. That is correct?”

The unicorn mare only gulped, sweat pouring off her brow. She glanced behind her to the open door, and then made to flee the hall, only to be enveloped in a dark magical aura. Panicking, the mare was turned back to face the princess's knifelike glare. “Dost thou think we are some sort of cretin?” Luna threw the parchment to the stone floor and tread her hoof on it. “That we are an ignorant foal, easily deceived with large words?”

“I – I...” She fell silent and shook her head.

“Tell me!” Luna commanded, raising the mare up into the air as she stepped forward. “Didst thou honestly believe this would escape our notice?!”

“Honestly...” the unicorn said, her voice quivering, “I thought you would be easier to scam than your sister.”

The only sound that could be heard in the hall was the grinding of Luna's teeth. Tendrils of black smoke rose from the shadows around her. Luna's whole body was shaking with barely contained fury.

“You wretched...! Insolent...! impudent little... THROW HER IN THE DUNGEONS!”

Two guardsponies swiftly clapped the unicorn in magical restraints and escorted her out of the hall. The Chamberlain of the Court moved to summon the next in line, but Luna gestured him to hold off.

Luna took a deep breath and said nothing for the next minute while she attempted to calm her feelings. The Court was drawing to its close. There would be time for only a few more at most. Luna steeled herself with all the resolve she could muster. She was not going to let them beat her. She was going to remain until the time ran out, then leave the hall solemnly, with regal grace, and if the courtiers were going to giggle like foals and mock her most sacred Night, then she would simply let them wallow in their own disgrace. “Let the next... petitioner... come forth.” Luna looked to see who would step forward next.

Margrave Baron Whiteblood emerged from the crowd and stepped up to the podium, immaculately groomed and dressed as always.

“Your highness...” Baron Whiteblood said with his customary voice of barely-concealed cold disdain and matching facial expression.

“Whiteblood,” Luna mimicked his tone. “What dost thou ask of us now, that thou could not ask earlier?”

“I come to ask for the support of Everhold in securing the border to the Griffin Kingdom.”

“Thou mean to prove the old adage about madness, then?”

Whiteblood chuckled, the corner of his mouth curling into a grim smile. Then he spoke, raising his voice so it rang to every corner of the hall. “Your highness, the cities and towns of the border duchies are being overrun. Travel is not safe. The markets empty out, as merchants and farmers cannot bring their goods unstolen. The economy suffers, distrust grows, all other work falls behind, all for the supposed friendship of Everhold to the Griffon Kingdom.”

“We are not interested, Baron. You waste our time, and thine own!”

“I do not think it is wasted to plead the cause of my subjects,” Whiteblood said. “Even if I am not heard, if the worst comes to pass the Court will know I made the effort to protect my vassals from those who would harm them. Your highness, we are moving towards war against the Griffon Kingdom. You may believe that King Blaze is as pure of heart as a newborn foal rather than the blood-drenched tyrant so much of the world believes him to be, but I fear you are in the minority.”

Luna knew, of course, that the vast and mighty Griffon Kingdom had been to war with all of its many neighbours over its long history, including the pony realms, and that enmities between nations endured for generations with little fuel, and that small events could reignite conflicts that had laid dormant for many decades. She also knew that King Blaze was a mighty warrior and a ruthless general, swift and decisive in battle. You had to be, in order to remain on the throne of the Griffon Kingdom for long. But she knew more than that, having had the chance to get to know him more closely than almost anypony else living. She knew that he was an honorable leader, who did not engage in petty treachery. She knew that over many years of careful diplomacy Everhold had earned his respect, and his trust, and that a war with ponykind would cost him greatly, and win him nothing he could not get peacefully.

Luna knew that she trusted King Blaze more than she trusted Margrave Baron Whiteblood. Luna knew too that Court, most of all Night-Mare Court, was not the place to discuss such matters of careful diplomacy.

“We have heard all your pleas and justifications before, Baron. Our answer has not changed. We will hear no more of this.” Luna's ear twitched at the unhappy murmurs that passed through the Court.

“My princess, you did say earlier I should present proof of my claims, and I am here to do so. Your highness, only earlier today did I hear news from my homeland that in the city of Steeds a great warehouse was set ablaze! Those responsible were griffons. After their arrest, many other griffons have assaulted ponies on the streets in broad daylight. They make a mockery of your diplomacy and flaunt our laws!” The crowd of courtiers grumbled in agreement.

Luna clenched her teeth. I never asked you to present proof of anything, liar. "That is enough, Baron," she said sharply.

“I fear I must insist,” Whiteblood said, his head bowed low, pacing side to side before the podium. “I would feel gravely negligent in my duties as a servant of Everhold if I did not attempt to help you see the threat we face more clearly.” He sighed, as though weary of dealing with a stubborn child. “I understand that you may not want to face facts, and that from distant Everhold the day to day occurrences in the border duchies seem trivial, but in my home the pattern is unmistakeable.”

“We will hear no more of this,” Luna growled. “You are dismissed from the Court, Baron.”

He ignored her. "If we do not keep our cities safe then we all but invite foreign powers to invade us. We must send a message to demonstrate that we are not to be trifled with. What would be the consequence, should the buffalo, or the dragons, or the griffons, say to themselves, 'the ponies, look at them: vast wealth, and they will not fight for it. They are ruled by weak women who think that making friends will save them from the dangers of the world'?"

"Guards!" Luna roared. "Remove this pony from my throne hall!"

The guardsponies stepped forward as a gasp rang out across the hall.

"You would dare to lay a hoof on a peer of the realm?" one courtier asked. "This is unconscionable!" A dozen other nobleponies called out in agreement. Several ponies ran forward to stand beside Whiteblood, and more followed, emboldened. The guardsponies hesitated, faced with a wall of nobles blocking the Baron.

Whiteblood only looked at Luna and smiled. "Is my princess displeased at my words? If I speak harshly, it is only because I am concerned and wish for our rulers to have all the information necessary to make the right choices."

Luna could feel her blood beginning to boil. She imagined smoke coming out of her nostrils with every breath. All around her the shadows grew darker...

"If Celestia were here she would tell you I only wish you well, your highness."

That did it.

"Coprophage!" Luna erupted. "Fornicator of thine own progenitors! Thy mind is addled and diluted from the use of addictive compounds and thy aspect is so revolting that even the worms shun thee! Mewling quim! I pity thy wife, for in thy cups thou leavest her unsatisfied and drive her to other stallions' beds. Tis an affliction familiar to thy house; thou bear thy father's name but his gardener's face!"

The hall fell deathly silent, the only sound that of Luna's ragged, heaving breath.

Well then, Luna thought to herself, All bets are off.

The throne hall exploded in shouts of indignation by the crowd.

"This is outrageous-"

"A foalish outburst quite unworthy of the Court-"

"Reminiscent of the famous rant by Captain Maregan the Unsteady on the occasion of-"

"-should immediately apologize to everypony present with the utmost-"

"-seems very clear that the Court should consider doing away with certain traditions-"

"Be silent!" Luna cried, her voice cracking, the Royal Voice refusing to come. "All of you, I command you be silent!" She heard a few mocking jeers and piles of laughter amid the heckles. Her eyes locked on one pony in particular. Baron Whiteblood had not moved from the podium, and did not speak, but only looked directly at her, with a smile of perfect contentment.

"-that Princess Celestia alone can be trusted to take the Court seriously-"

"-speak to Princess Celestia instead, and-"

"-Princess Luna is only the younger sister, and lacks the experience and judgement necessary to rule-"

"-Princess Celestia will-"

"-demand that Princess Luna will yield-"

"-Princess Celestia will decide justly."

"My sister's word is law," a melodious, yet sharp and undefiable voice suddenly pierced through the noise of the great hall, and everyone immediately fell silent. "Her decisions carry as much authority as my own, and will be obeyed."

Before Luna's eyes, Whiteblood's smile curdled and turned to a scowl. Luna raised her eyes from him and saw the entire court turned to face her sister standing in the open hallway, looking very displeased. The Chamberlain of the Court stood beside her, fear in his eyes. Luna had not noticed him slip away in the chaos.

"Your majesty," one slow-witted courtier began. "You will not believe what your sister has done in the..." Even before Celestia turned the force of her glare on him everypony around him had already begun to clear a space. When it came, he froze in place, and began to shiver as her eyes pierced through him.

"I know exactly what has happened here tonight," she said, her voice sharp enough to strip the flesh from their bones. She turned from him, and he all but collapsed, sweat dripping from his coat.

"To think," Princess Celestia said, as she crossed the hall, "of the entire royal court of Everhold behaving so despicably. To think of you all taking advantage of my sister in this fashion. I am extremely disappointed in all of you." She paused and let her eyes move over the crowd. Pony after pony shrank from her gaze. "I trusted you all to treat my sister with the respect and courtesy you treat me, and which your position demands. You have squandered that trust, and you will live with the consequences of having done so."

Luna watched the court shrink before her sister's words, and felt her cheeks burning. Is this it, then? Luna thought. Saved from the Court by my sister, like some foal bullied in a playground?

"Let it be known that I will place a hold on every decision from tonight, and those of you who thought to exploit my dear sister with unreasonable requests will find your gains revoked. Is that clear?"

Luna's head sank again. Her words from before rang through her head: Thy Princess honors her promises in all things, her word is law... except when I mess everything up and somepony else needs to clean up after me.

The entire assembled court murmured apologetically with downcast eyes, unable to meet Celestia's gaze. Celestia nodded. "I hope you will all think long and hard about your behavior. Now, the bells have rung, and this Court is adjourned. All of you are dismissed."

The humbled ponies filed sheepishly out of the hall. Some of them kept their heads high, their faces locked in arrogance, looking like kindergarten foals who had been forced to finish an unwelcome meal. Whiteblood stalked out of the hall with disgust and disappointment, robbed of his prize at the moment of his triumph.

Celestia turned to Luna, who sat slumped sideways and low on the massive throne. "Come on, little sister, up you go," she said, and nudged Luna up on her hooves. "You just need to be firm with them. Show them who is Princess. If they step out of line, perhaps give them a little taste of the Royal Voice. None of them can stand against it, believe me..." Luna didn't respond. "Are you alright, Lulu?"

"...No. No, I don't think I am, actually."

Celestia looked down at her little sister with concern. "There's still an hour before the party," she said. "Perhaps you should go freshen up."

"Oh yes... the party." Luna nodded. "Everything will be great... at the party." She stumbled slightly on the steps before the throne, and loped off to her chambers.

– – –

I am not going to cry.

An hour had passed, and the party had begun. Luna sat in the dining hall, at the head of a long table filled with a grand feast, Celestia sitting at her side. A quartet of musicians played a light, festive waltz that very nearly succeeded in covering up the tension they were feeling.

I am not going to cry.

For the Night-Mare Night feast, Princess Luna was decked out in the traditional garb that she wore only this one night every year. The rest of the year, it was carefully sealed in a magical locker to avoid wear and tear. It consisted of her Night-Mare Woon gown, the color of what had been young Luna's favorite bird, the flamingos in the old Royal Palace Garden, and adorned with ornamental bands of airy, draping cloth, and threads tied together in elaborate looping, twisting patterns.

I am not going to cry.

Around her neck, in place of the black sash bearing her cutie mark she normally wore, hung a silver necklace adorned with massive gemstones in all the colors of the rainbow. The necklace dated back to a time of dragon invasion, in which precious metals and gemstones were forbidden to own, as they were all given to the dragon lords in exchange for the ponies' continued survival. As a result, great craftsponies had learned to create jewelry by other means. One genius unicorn had managed, through a masterwork of magical artifice, to create malleable material from a thick black fluid he found deep underground, and from this had created synthetic gems and chains that were nearly undistinguishable from the real thing without close examination. As the process was slow and expensive, and the products high in demand, to own these synthetic jewels quickly became a sign of great wealth and refinement. Few pieces of jewelry had ever collected such a great collection of these artifice gems and silver as Luna's necklace, and she had treasured it ever since.

I am not going to cry.

Finally, in place of her crown was the unique headgear she had specially crafted by the finest craftsponies in all Everhold's domains each year. Like Night-Mare Night itself, it was timeless and yet fleeting, and would not survive long past the night. It was with a brief pang of a broken heart that Luna allowed it to pass on each year, reminding herself that next year it would come back. It was a cone of paper, with a glittering star at its point, covered in golden, shining foil, held in place atop her head by a slim strip of miraculously tensile fabric that stretched underneath her muzzle from its mooring at the base on either side of the hat itself.

I am not going to cry.

The ensemble was almost as old as she was, and had been gifted to her by the King of the Firmament on the eve of her coming into her full power. She still had the message that had come with it, written in the ancient magical rune-script of the pre-material earth and whose meaning was now a mystery to all but the dozen or so individuals still living who knew how to decipher its secrets: "Happy Sweet Sixteen, Lulu – With love, from dad."

I am not going to cry.

The musicians were playing, carefully stone-faced, not looking up from their instruments at the scene of the dinner.

"Lulu – I am so, so very sorry about this..."

"It's not your fault, Tia..."

"Something must have happened with the guest list, it must not have gotten lost somewhere before the organizer got it-"

I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry.

"Tia," Luna raised a hoof to silence her. "Don't... Just... don't say anything. Please."

The two of them were sitting alone at a table with seats and food set up for forty ponies. Apart from the two alicorns and the four musicians playing on the podium on one side of the chamber, the dining hall was entirely empty. Luna kept her eyes fixed on the slice of Zebrican Night-Time Voyage cake on the plate before her. She took off a bite with a levitated spoon and brought it to her mouth, chewing softly. It somehow tasted both cloying and bitter.

Celestia was speaking quietly, but Luna wasn't paying much attention. "...I went down and spoke to the mailponies. It does indeed appear that everything was in the delivery that came up to us earlier." She glanced over to the tribute table which stood empty on the side of the dining hall.

Luna gave a brief look to Celestia, and it occurred to her how much her sister sounded, and looked, like their mother.

The musicians reached the end of their piece. Before they could begin another, Luna raised a hoof. "That will be enough."

Celestia gave her a questioning look. Luna's eyes moved over the empty hall, the table of excuses, her sister's disappointed frown that reminded Luna more than anything else of how her mother had looked when she failed to adequately shield her foals from the world, and the four musicians who were now whispering nervously to one another.

She made a decision.

"I'm going out on a trip," she said. "You may have the servants take away the feast. I feel... the need for some fresh air."

"If you give me five minutes to prepare I'll go with you-"

"No!" Luna snapped, and winced at the sound of her tone. "I'm sorry. No thank you. I'd like to be alone."

Tia looked at her with concern, and nodded.

Luna returned to her chambers again and removed her gown, returned to her customary finery: her slippers, sash, and the simple, comfortable crown. Thus attired she stepped out on the balcony and felt the chill wind against her coat, seeming to stroke her gently. With a bound, she leapt up into the air, and soared through the night-sky above Everhold. She circled over the city, looking down at the network of lights that lay below and outside the great palace, as she mustered her thoughts. She wanted, more than anything else, to simply fly far, far away and leave the Court behind. But where? She scowled and felt anger rising in her again as she listed the places she might go. Every city she had protected in the past, had sent her no recognition. Those that did, addressed her sister rather than her. Every village full of superstition that had scorned her. She could rise up to the tallest mountain peak and relish in the biting cold and the glow of her moon, alone... But she did not want to be alone, on this of all nights.

Where can I... Her eyes widened as an idea came to her. Yes! Of course! My school, founded in my honor. It has been a while since I found the time to visit, but surely there I will still be welcome.

She turned, and flew off towards the distant province of Braytannia, to Cambridle.

Chapter 5: Night-Mare Night (A Night in the Life of Princess Luna), Part 2

Night-Mare Night in Cambridle was a time rich in tradition and ceremony.

It was expected that students would roam the streets clad in their finest vestments, partaking in the ancient rites of studenthood: getting drunk, arguing, and stealing random objects to carry around for the rest of the night and then forget somewhere. It was expected that the many various student societies would set up tents and tables on the campus, proclaiming their existence and competing to capture the hearts and minds of the new students, and the large portion of old students who somehow failed to realize that these societies existed in spite of having seen them do this every year for several years running. It was expected that the vendors of books and writing materials and all the paraphernalia of student life would hawk their wares on the streets, giving out samples of barely edible but very easily prepared foodstuffs for ponies who had never before in their lives had to make a hot meal on their own. It was expected that the professors would trot resolutely from one building to the next in their own ceremonial wear, muttering to themselves about how the student body deteriorated every year that went past and how things were completely different when they were students, all those years ago, a mutter which was meticulously inscribed in the book of traditions and rehearsed as thoroughly as every other part of the immatriculation ceremony. All these things and more were expected.

It was not expected that the demigoddess to whom the school was dedicated would drop down in the middle of the street before the Old Hall unannounced, or that she would then raise a hoof and proclaim, "Behold, Cambridle, thy patron!", but in fact that also happened.

Luna stood in the middle of a great crowd of ponies, resplendent in their richest finery, looking at her in shock and silence, eyes shifting to the unmarked bottles of grimy fluid many of them carried with them, or to random objects that had been picked up from somewhere they would no doubt not be missed too much.

Silence ensued. Luna took another breath. "We have come to partake of the felicitations upon this Night-Mare Night! Rejoice, and be festive! Thy Princess commands it!"

Luna smiled as students flocked to her side, bowing and scraping and vying for her attention, and carefully ignored the ones who instead fled the scene to hide their debauchery from her sight. She let empty praise wash over her as she trotted down the gaslit street, watching ponies bow reverently as she passed them. Finally, she thought, now we will be treated to the celebrations this night deserves.

"Your highness," a young unicorn whose colors seemed vaguely familiar to her began, "I wonder if I could ask you...?"

"What dost thou wonder, young one?" she said, nodding for him to continue.

He smiled. "My father was scheduled to speak today in the Day Court, in support of Count Trod's claim to the Acorn Duchy. Has the Princess made her ruling, do you know?"

Luna's smile vanished before she could freeze it in place. "Firstly, young colt, there is no "day court" upon Night-Mare Night. Secondly, the Princess who presided over the Night-Mare Court was us, not our sister. And thirdly, in answer to your question, we have not."

She was inwardly pleased to note the chilling effect her tone had upon his posture before she turned away to look upon a young mare who was practically shaking with excitement to see the alicorn, and smiled. "What is on your mind, young one?"

“I’m, I’m a history student,” she said, her nervous stutter only making Luna smile wider. “I’m reading a history of the Great Reforneightion, and, and—”

“And wanted to ask somepony who witnessed it with her own eyes?” Luna finished. The mare nodded with a huge grin and a glint in her eye. “Certainly. The Reforneightion was a time of great upheaval which shaped the course of history centuries hence. What dost thou wish to know?”

“I was hoping you could tell me something about the Concordat of Horns?" she asked.

"Certainly," Luna said. “At the time, you must understand, the tribes were deeply suspicious of one another, and fearful of dragon attack. The Golden Hoard had swept in across the great fields of the Griffon Empire, and for all anypony knew it was only a matter of time before they advanced into our lands as well. The Papony was losing its power, and could not respond to the threat of invasion, leading to widespread unrest. When I called for the Concordat I hoped that we could put aside—”

“Wait,” the mare interrupted. “You called for the Concordat? Wasn’t— wasn't it Celestia?”

Luna raised an eyebrow, and continued, her tone a half-note darker. “Nay, it was us. We presided over the great convention in the Dome of St. Muleas. Do your history books not tell it thus?”

“Well… the original chroniclers only wrote 'The Princess' or 'Her Immortal Highness', now that I think about it, or list titles in this unreadable, incredibly formal way, but the modern textbooks all say it was Celestia.”

“We see,” Luna said coldly, her eyes narrowing. “It has been too long since we followed the work being done here closely. We must attend to this oversight. Prithee, where can I find the scholars who are entrusted with the oversight of our school?”

“Oh, well, the faculty are all going to be attending the traditional Night-Mare Night dinner. A few of the students are invited as well.”

“They will all be together then? Most excellent. I shall go there, and speak to them forthwith."

– – –

“Are you sure you want to join me and Ginny at the library tonight?" Turner said, looking over his roommate. "I'm not sure they're terribly keen on you still.”

Star Swirl muttered. “Well, I don't have anything else to do until the ceremony, and if I can be on my best library behavior then surely so can they."

Turner rolled his eyes. "You know, you really should try to get some other things to do with your time. You spent every waking moment for the past two weeks working on that thing you're wearing."

"This thing is a precise replica of the robes of the Yeopony of the Night-Time Hours!"

"It's eight hundred years out of fashion, is what it is," Turner said. He sniffed. "At least it's clean."

Star Swirl and Turner were both dressed for the occasion. Star Swirl stood straight and proud in his homemade robes: an explosion of anachronisms crafted using only the materials and techniques available in the time of the originals, entirely without modern niceties like buttons or knots. The meticulously regimented design was held together only by its own great weight and the posture of the wearer, and the whole thing was densely decorated with elaborate embroidered patterns and hung with tassels all around. The bulk of the robe was a light beige, with the details and ornamentations in every color of the rainbow.

Turner was clad slightly more fashionably in a richly ruffled cyan blue shirt and a black velvet smoking jacket with maroon trim and a matching bowtie, and a sprig of celery tucked behind his ear. Even their gait was wildly different, with Turner practically prancing with excited flair while Star Swirl trotted carefully to prevent his costume from being ruffled out of place.

“It’s only what everypony should be wearing on Night-Mare Night,” Star Swirl said. “This is the tradition, everypony else is just pretending.”

“Actually everypony else is pointing and laughing,” Turner said. “Which brings me back to what I was saying earlier… You know you really should think about trying to coexist peacefully with the pony race, Star Swirl. Don’t you want to make friends here, go out and do things, perhaps meet a nice young mare? It generally helps if you live in the same century as everypony else.”

Star Swirl mumbled something unintelligible underneath his breath.

They crossed onto one of the major streets of the town, and noted the rush of ponies running, and excited chattering. The pointing and laughing ceased, as everypony seemed to have something more interesting on their mind.

“What’s going on?” Turner said to a passing earth pony mare. She slowed down long enough to turn her head back and yell, “Haven’t you heard? Princess Luna suddenly showed up! She’s down by the Old Hall talking to the crowds!”

“What?” Turner asked. “Princess--?” He glanced towards Star Swirl and fell silent. The teenage colt was already in a mad gallop down the street with a look of absolute determination on his face, holding his costume in place with magic as it threatened to fall apart from the force of the motion. “Oh. Oh, damn… Well, this will be interesting,” Turner said quietly to himself before he began cantering down after his roommate.

– – –

“Princess Luna?” Professor Check Mate said.

"Thy eyesight doth not fail thee, professor," Luna said drily. "We have come to partake of the celebrations of Night-Mare Night, and to review some points pertaining to the scholarship performed at our school."

"Yes... Well... You must forgive us, your highness, for not being prepared for your visit*," Check Mate said with a somber look. "Had you given us some advance notice..."

*: The last time a Princess visited Cambridle unannounced was fifty years previously, and did so only because it was necessary to elude assassins. Beyond that, it had been several centuries since the Princess would visit Cambridle more often than approximately once every decade.

"There is no need to repeat our own history back to us, professor," Luna said, and Check Mate visibly grew tense. "We are well aware of when we last visited. As for tonight, our circumstances have been... unusual. We found it necessary to revise our plans at the final moment, and Cambridle is graced with our presence as a result."

One of the other professors, a yellow unicorn mare with the silver mane, stepped up in front of Check Mate before he could say anything and spoke through a colossal grin. "Your Highness, we are deeply honored to have you here, and you must attend the Faculty dinner with us!"

Her grin was exquisitely artificial, Luna thought, but that in itself meant little. She had met countless officials whose facial expressions were so practised that they were no longer able to express much in the way of genuine emotion, yet they could still feel them. She had gone through that stage herself, many centuries ago, and it had taken her decades to realize it and restore herself to the point of being able to be natural again afterwards. She smiled an entirely genuine gracious smile, and said, "We would be delighted to attend your feast. Lead on."

She was quickly led off the streets of Cambridle and into the faculty chambers in a nearby building. Star Swirl and Turner arrived just in time to see the door slammed shut and a large crowd of disappointed students locked outside.

– – –

"Rotten luck," Turner said, scowling. "Nobody gets invited to the faculty dinner but the professors and a few legacy students. Guess we'll have to wait, maybe she'll be at the ceremony."

"I'm going in," Star Swirl said matter-of-factly, and took two steps forward before Turner threw himself on the unicorn and held him back.

"Star Swirl," he said in his least joking voice, "I can appreciate your youthful enthusiasm. But if you try to force your way into the faculty dinner, you will be expelled. Not "maybe expelled," not "probably expelled," not "will have to work hard to avoid being expelled," you simply will be kicked out of Cambridle, and then unicorn guardsponies will arrest you and you will be put on trial for criminal mischief and disrupting the peace. As the ruffled shirt is my witness, everything else you've done here, bothering the professors, crashing the entrance exam, even the bit with the Library Hounds, is small fry by comparison. There is just one law in Cambridle which is supreme and ranks above all others, and that is this: you do not mess with the professors over their food. If you do this there won't be any mercy, and no uncertainty. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Right." Turner thought for a second. "You're going to do it anyway, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Of course you are," Turner sighed. "Look... can I at least ask you to try to be subtle about it?"

“Subtle?” Star Swirl twisted his head to turn a questioning look on his roommate. “Like Coltysseus' human statue gambit in the Fillyad?”

“Yes,” Turner said, having no idea what that meant. “Probably. I have just the plan in mind…”

– – –

Luna found herself staring at the tapestry hanging on the wall rather than engage the ponies around her in conversation. It depicted some historical incident or other in so vague and artistically enhanced fashion that it was all but impossible to pick out from a dozen candidates. It caught her eye not only because of its prominent place on the wall of the faculty meeting hall in the Tower of Arts, but also because she was on it, soaring majestically in the night sky and inspiring the ponies beneath her to greatness. She studied it closely, standing in a dignified, statuesque posture while she waited for the chaos she had inadvertently created to die down around her.

The method of arranging seating at the dinner was convoluted enough to give even the most purebred of Everhold’s nobles a run for their bits. True to tradition, the tables were carefully arranged so that no seat was as good as any other, ensuring that everypony present could know exactly how superior or inferior they were to the others. But while the aristocracy measured their worth in terms of titles, property, war honors, familial proximity to the Princesses, or just how far back into the mists of time the chroniclers could trace their name, the scholars of Cambridle measured theirs in terms of books published, citations accrued, sum in stipends, degrees earned, debates won, and even sometimes with actual ideas that helped change ponies’ lives.

The upshot of it was that while at any gathering of nobles the sister of Princess Celestia was guaranteed a seat at the head of the table as a matter of course, these scholars seemed completely unable to decide where to fit her into their already Bitzantine seating plan. Some surreptitious questioning had made clear that Luna, though herself a great sage and witness to history, did not remotely fit into their system, and they were stumped. Still, after fifteen minutes of professors running back and forth like drunk rabbits, they were able to reach an uneasy arrangement. Luna’s attention was torn away from the tapestry, and she was shown to her seat at the head of the table, with the Rector of the Cambridle Academy of Magic on her right, and the Most Senior Professor on her left.

The mare three seats to her left levitated her spoon and struck it against her crystal chalice to draw the attention of the assembly, and began speaking in Old Equis, giving a speech invoking the wisdom and discoveries of the ancient sages as a dream, hazy and unclear, but for the brilliant key moments that shine through and are remembered when the night ends, while the rest lies forgotten in the dark.

It was beautiful and poetic, and any pony with a love of knowledge and an appreciation for history could be moved to tears by less. It had also very clearly not been intended to be spoken with the Princess of the Night and Ruler of Dreams sitting a few chairs away, and was met with an awkward silence while Luna fought to keep her cheeks from turning red with embarrassment. She sighed with relief once the mare finished, and regular conversation began, giving Luna a distraction from her thoughts.

She engaged in pleasant small talk as best she was able, though she struggled slightly to maintain her smile when she was asked about the recent affairs of Court, and let her ears catch glimpses of chatter from across the table.

The conversation was magical, literally: the entire faculty were unicorns, and used simple cantrips to converse freely with anypony else without having to worry about where each party was sitting, allowing Luna to give her time to everypony present without difficulty. The talk was polite, respectful, dignified, and in all ways fit for the great sages.

It was also stilted, rigid, and distant, entirely without a hint of friendly warmth. Luna knew the form well. It was the kind of talk that said "etiquette demands I talk with you, but that is the only reason I have". Luna gave each pony the minimum of time the laws of courtesy demanded, then moved on to the next, but had found them all much the same.

"A spell that turns sand into wet sand? Most charming. We wish thee well in thy pursuits," Luna said to her most recent partner, and moved on to the next. "Greetings—"

"—could have give some advance warning, shown some respect to the occasion."

Luna was immediately stunned to silence. The gruff voice continued, having apparently not heard her: "I don't know, does she think that we have nothing better to do than entertain bored royalty?" Luna recognized the voice as that of Check Mate.

"Perhaps she gets away with this in Everhold," a mare's voice answered back, and sniffed, also apparently unaware that Luna could hear her. "Who dares to say no to a Princess, after all?"

"The Night-Mare Night Faculty Dinner takes months of careful preparation," Check Mate muttered darkly. "The most important event on the social calendar,* and she just shows up and throws everything into chaos."

*: For all that scholarship prides itself on meritocracy, privilege is an unstated but universal cornerstone of upward mobility also in higher education. For students, being on good terms with the faculty more than doubles your chance of success in the Academy, while for scholars getting to network with the giants of the field ensures your continued career prospects, and the peak time for plotkissing is the Night-Mare Night Faculty Dinner.

Luna cut off the magic without a word, and sat silently in shock, not noticing the curious looks the ponies around her gave her as they gradually became aware that she was not conversing with anyone.

Wretched insolence...! Luna took deep breaths and struggled to maintain her composure over her growing anger. Clearly I have neglected my school far worse than I suspected, if it has grown so distant from its roots that it would permit ponies with such disrespect for Our Night to rise to high office. No, calm down Luna, perhaps it is only the one professor. He is clearly no gentlecolt, twould be unfair to judge the entire Faculty on the behavior of that one. Perhaps... Perhaps some inquiries are in order. She extended her magic to subtly take in the surface thoughts of the ponies around her: a powerful and difficult magic, and an invasive one, which Luna never used lightly.

The first thing she saw was a great love for Cambridle, a great reverence for the school and its founding ideals, and she smiled. She saw its images engraved on the minds of everypony around her. The great stone halls of its buildings, the statues and pictures, the history they represented. She saw fond memories of friends and lovers linked closely to the school, images of students and teachers, nurturing and nurtured, the pursuit of an ennobled spirit and the growth and flowering of pony lives. What she did not see was herself.

She looked elsewhere, in the more immediate thoughts of the ponies in the hall. There she was, looming large in the forefront of their minds… but cut off from their larger feelings about the school. Instead, she saw herself as an obstacle, something to be carefully attended to, lest she disrupt the evening further. Further? She stretched her magic out, encompassing their minds…

She was quickly overwhelmed with the thoughts and dreams of the ponies of Cambridle, dreams in which she played no role and held no weight. She recoiled, gasping, and let her magic fall as she pulled herself back into her own mind.

You act surprised, Luna thought to herself. Chaos and Cosmos, how pathetic you must seem. Of course these ponies have their own lives to deal with. Of course they do not care to spend their time appeasing a selfish pony who ran away from home because she had a bad night.

I only wanted to be appreciated.

For what?

The meal passed without Luna saying another word, and once the final dish had been cleared away the ponies all got up and stretched their legs, and mingled. Before long, Luna was the only pony who remained sitting, deep in thought, her eyes fixed, once again, on her own image upon the tapestry.

With a sigh, Luna nodded to herself, then closed her eyes, rose from her seat, and walked out of the hall without saying a word.

– – –

"Got your false identity ready?" Turner asked.

Turner and Star Swirl had penetrated and maneuvered the Tower of Arts using stealth, excuses so audaciously unbelievable that nopony would dare question them, and on a few occasions an elaborate system of pulleys and levers, and were finally approaching the faculty meeting hall with nopony wise to their actions.

"Why do I need a false identity?" Star Swirl answered.

"It's not a proper wacky scheme if you don't have a false identity," Turner said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Just think of a different name for yourself. You should have changed your clothes too."

"That was never going to happen."

Turner nodded, conceding the point. He stroked his chin thoughtfully, considering his own suit, another elaborate piece concocted from the mysterious depths of his closet, a mad patchwork of strong colors. "I think I'm gonna be a doctor. I've always wanted to be a doctor."

The arched gate leading to the meeting hall was down the corridor in front of them and as they drew near they heard raised voices.

"Well damnit, where did she go?" a stern mare's voice demanded.

"I don't know! Somewhere else!" a young stallion's voice answered.

Turner and Star Swirl glanced at each other a moment, and silently trotted up to look through the partly-opened door.

"I don't see what the problem is. She's not going to do anything," a deep voice muttered. Star Swirl glimpsed in and saw two of the senior professors, Check Mate and Ivory Tower, throwing angry looks at one another while half a dozen nervous-looking students milled around them. A dozen other ponies stood scattered around the hall in pairs and threes, deep in discussion. Princess Luna was nowhere to be seen.

"Perhaps not tonight," Ivory Tower answered her colleague, scowling. "What about tomorrow, when she tells her sister what happened, after she has cleared her head and spent all night thinking about how the staff of this school grievously insulted her? Do you have any idea what she and her sister could do to us?"

"So maybe she was a little upset," Check Mate grumbled. "She'll get over it.* She's a grown mare, apparently."

*: Immortal Alicorn Princesses are models of maturity and restraint in all history books that have avoided immolation, deluge, disintegration, or being consigned to the infinite void beyond the bounds of what is known to ponies.

Ivory Tower only rolled her eyes.

"Looks like the final phase of the scheme is off," Turner said, sighing with disappointment. "It's so rare that a good chance for a wacky scheme comes along."

Star Swirl pushed the door open and they entered the hall, drawing the attention of everypony nearby. Ivory Tower looked up hopefully, but returned to scowling once she saw who it was. "Oh, good grief, it's you."

"What's going on?" Star Swirl demanded. "Where's Princess Luna?"

"She's gone," Ivory Tower said flatly.

“What do you mean ‘she’s gone’?” Star Swirl asked.

“What do you think I mean?” Ivory Tower answered. She took a step forward, cutting into Star Swirl's personal space, and stared directly into his eyes. "Is there a great breadth of possible interpretation to the phrase 'she's gone', filled with layers of nuance and ambiguity, of which I am not aware? Or are you just being an idiot?"

Star Swirl opened his mouth ready to toss out an angry retort when Turner firmly put a hoof on his shoulder and pulled him back, and shook his head. Star Swirl took a deep breath, and said, through gritted teeth, "What happened here, Professor?"

"Not that it is any of your business, but as it happens we were enjoying the five hundred and twenty-fourth annual faculty dinner of the Academy of Magic when the night's unexpected visitor suddenly left us without any sign of customary courtesy. It turns out that my colleague," here she glared at Check Mate, who snarled in return, "was unwisely commenting upon our unexpected visitor within her hearing in altogether too honest a fashion, and now she is probably outside somewhere preparing to flatten all of Cambridle in a show of royal grace and forgiveness."

When Ivory Tower turned back to face Star Swirl, he was already gone.

Star Swirl ran out into the lamp-lit streets, and took off down the first road he passed. Cambridle was filled with students celebrating Night-Mare Night, with music and laughter.

Not half an hour ago, the heavens had been crisp and clear, filled with starlight. Now, rain poured relentlessly, and Star Swirl couldn't see more than a few yards ahead of him. He stopped at the first crossroads, stood deep in thought for a second as the rain pelted his robe, then turned and ran down the street, confident he knew exactly where to go.

– – –

Luna had not gone far, but she had found herself a secluded spot, from which she could barely hear the noise of the school and its traditions, and could still pretend she had some part in it. She sat on the grass and looked up at the statue of herself in the small, enclosed garden. The statue was a figure of strength and honor, a figure that commanded respect.

She had only vague memories of the time it had come from, and studied herself closely, attempting to see herself in it: She is so tall... Have I shrunk, or was this the sculptor's imagination taking hold? She looked at its mane. I suppose I may well have worn it in that fashion at some point. Certainly I have changed it a thousand times before and since, but I do not recall ever being so... sharp. Is that my mane at all, or is it a suit of armor? She considered its eyes, and bit her lip, and frowned. The statue looked down upon the world with a piercing gaze that bordered on contempt, that brooked no disagreement and offered no mercy. Did they see me thus? Was I thus?

Behind her, a young unicorn clad in a bizarre costume drew up to the gate of the garden. Star Swirl controlled his breathing, slow and deep, ignoring the urge to gasp and groan after running halfway across the city centre. He held back at the sight of the Princess, and waited for his heart to calm down. Then, once he had some dignity again, he would approach her with all the courtesy and respect worthy of a Princess. Anything less would be a deep insult to one who spoke with great dignitaries every night and held the fate of half the world in her hooves. That was the plan.

He froze when he saw her lying flat on her stomach in the shadow of the statue, and began to reconsider. She did not look like she wanted the respectful formality of great dignitaries.

She looked like she wanted a friend.

The sight of her opened the gates for a flood of memories and emotions, and in his head Star Swirl threw away the plan. He had made a promise, long ago. Now he would keep it.

He gulped. It was now or never. He stepped forward.

"Princess Luna?” he began.

Immediately upon hearing the sound Luna sprang gracefully to her hooves, and turned to face the intruder. She gasped momentarily, and immediately collected herself.

"My name is-”

"Yeopony of the Night-Time Hours!” Luna said, pointing at him with a hoof. "Commendable outfit. Thou even got the tassels right.”

“Yes! Exactly! Finally somepony gets the...” Star Swirl cut himself off, shook away the last thought and returned his attention to the princess. "I'm sorry. Actually my name is-”

"Star Swirl,” she said calmly, cutting him off. "The young stallion from Edinspur. We remember.”

Luna barely recognized the colt she had met one night five years previously. Of course Luna knew that at that age colts have explosive growth, but it still managed to surprise her. She never saw young ponies at the castle, so there were few occasions for her to witness the change herself, and to her immortal mind, the passage of a year might mean no more than a month to an ordinary pony. There was always so much to do, and time passed so quickly. Star Swirl was twice the size he had been, his chubby foal's body had stretched out to a lanky teenager's, and his chin had the first meagre tuft of stallion's stubble.

"You've grown," she said simply. "It is... pleasant to see you again."

Star Swirl tried to speak, but found his tongue anchored in place, unable to summon a single word in answer. After a few seconds, they could both see an awkward silence stretching out in front of them.

Star Swirl glanced around, trying not to stare at the demigoddess standing right in front of him, and reached up to scratch an imaginary itch on the back of his neck.

Luna looked down and nervously rubbed the fetlock of one foreleg against the other.

After a few seconds that lasted for years, Star Swirl remembered what had been said, and carried on as though nothing had happened. "It's... wonderful to see you again as well, your majesty. Princess Luna."

"I am pleased to hear it," she said quietly. She looked up at the cloud-covered skies, allowing the rain to fall on her face, then shook it off. "The view is not so pleasant as last time, and our vantage point is lower, but still... Would you care to join me again?"

She couldn't help but smile at the sight of the gigantic grin that immediately conquered his face, and then chuckle as he fought back valiantly against it. Her chuckle escalated into a giggle as Star Swirl tried to give a respectful nod, and almost snapped his neck from the force he put into it. Finally she erupted in a brief but spirited laugh as Star Swirl attempted to bow respectfully, stepped on a low-hanging tassel, and toppled over sideways as it pulled on his neck. Star Swirl carefully stood up again, his face burning with embarassment, but Luna only smiled. "I take it that was a yes?"

"Yes, Princess Luna."

The Princess nodded. "Be at your ease. 'Tis good that somepony finds my company fit, at least." She froze, and her face fell. "Once again you catch me betraying my dignity. I can only ask your forgiveness."

She glanced briefly at Star Swirl's face, and saw none of the disappointment or condemnation she had expected, only concern. "Please don't," he said softly. He sat down beside her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Luna hesitated.

"Please?"

She and sighed, and looked up at the statue of herself rising up above and before them. Then she began to speak.

"Do you know the history of the founding of Cambridle, Star Swirl?"

"Yes. I've read the books on the subject in the Cambridle library."

Luna nodded. "You know then, that I did not found the school. But I knew those that did, my Yeoponies of the Night-Time Hours. I had taught some of them myself, who went on to teach others, and they dedicated the school to me. Intrigued, I came here to see it for myself shortly afterwards, and was captivated. I would come here often, in those early nights. I took a few private students, and I spoke to every unicorn in Cambridle under the open sky long before the Hall of Understanding was constructed, teaching them the theory of the arcane that my sister and I had discovered, or what our father had taught us. And in return... I was adored. Almost worshipped, by some."

She closed her eyes tightly. "I must sound so pathetic," she muttered. "Never have I known such joy as when I saw the understanding flicker in the eyes of a young unicorn filly, or the grin of satisfaction on a colt's face when he mastered his first advanced spell." She sighed. "That was a very long time ago..."

"Why did you stop?" Star Swirl asked.

"War," Luna said darkly. "I was called away to do battle against the beasts of Tartarus, and when I returned, years later, the school had changed, and the politics and intrigues of Everhold had grown... unruly. I tried to come back, but my opportunities to do so grew fewer, and farther between, and it slipped from my mind. It has been over ten years since last I set hoof here... and then there was tonight." She looked straight ahead, her voice calm, permitting no emotion entry.

"I longed for ponies to come join me in celebration on Night-Mare Night," the princess barely whispered. "But when I found them... Have you ever felt alone, Star Swirl, while you are surrounded by others, sitting in the middle of a great and joyful crowd? Have you ever felt that on what should be the very happiest of occasions, you are only pretending to fit in?"

"I..." Star Swirl bit his lip. "I'm still used to being alone, your highness. I never spent much time in crowds."

"It is the most piercing and bitter loneliness of all," she said. "Believe me, I know, for tonight I have felt all of them in succession." She sighed. "I was foolish to come here... I should have known that there is no place for me here. Night-Mare Night is but a name to them, only words."

She rose up, her eyes half-closed, her face carefully expressionless. "Thank you for listening, Star Swirl, and for forgiving my foolish ramblings. But I should not stay where I am not wanted. I will return to Everhold now."

Star Swirl watched, his mind racing, as she reared up on her hind legs and spread her wings, prepared to set off, alone, into the sky and disappear once again from his sight. He could see her return to her private chamber, resigned to remain broken and alone forever.

"Wait!" he cried, reaching out a hoof. "Please!"

She paused, and turned a puzzled eye to him, waiting for him to speak.

"Princess..." the unicorn colt began, his heart pounding. "There is so much more in the world than a bunch of useless ponies. Please, don't let them bring you down... Let me show you something."

Luna remained as she stood for a second, poised to disappear, watching him carefully. Then, she nodded, and fell back to the ground.

Star Swirl looked up at the impenetrable clouds overhead, ignoring the rain that pelted his face. “I think,” he said, “that we need better visibility for starters.” His horn began to shimmer.

And then the raindrops turned into light.

All around them, the sound of the rain changed. Every tap of a drop striking the grass ended, not with a wet spatter, but with a faint breath, a gust of something moving through the air. Luna spun around quickly, looking all around her, studying the phenomenon. The water was not turning into light, exactly. It was not her sister’s brilliant shine, nothing so sharp, but instead a myriad tiny bursts of soft, soft glow, a brightness that did not shine, but brought out the color of the world, deep and rich in its darkness.

Luna gasped. The garden around them was transformed, bathed in an ethereal glamour. Before their eyes it went from being a small carefully-tended courtyard, to a memory of the primordial wilderness brought to life. Every leaf was as an eye, watching from the shadows, every gust of wind the movement of unseen creatures, every flower petal a fang, or claw, or feather of some beautiful creature. But none of it leapt, or struck, or stalked, or fled: only worshipped the ancient, timeless night.

The glow on Star Swirl’s horn intensified, and the blanket of color climbed the walls around them. The sound of falling rain faded as the field transforming each drop rose higher into the air, and finally died entirely as the clouds thinned, and vanished. The stars shone down once again, and the Night-Mare Night moon still waited at the peak of the heavens, and…

It is not only the contrast, stepping from the clouds and rain into the clear night sky, Luna thought. The stars have not shone so strong in a thousand years.

“Star Swirl?” Luna said. “What exactly are you doing?”

“This was the first trick I learned here,” Star Swirl said with a satisfied smile. “Transforming water into Luminaireous Pfeiffer.”

“Lumin…?” Luna began, then stopped when she realized what he meant. “Star Swirl, Luminiferous Aether is a purely theoretical substance, it has never been proven to even exist!”

"Tell that to the ponies who wrote the entrance exam," Star Swirl muttered. He continued channeling magic through his horn until the sky was entirely clear, and the air was alive with shimmering starlight that seemed to hang in place.

"It is beautiful," Luna whispered, looking up as a lone tear ran down her left cheek.

"All the stars love you, Princess," Star Swirl said. "Perhaps Cambridle also has embraced the sun, but there are still wonderful things that only come out at night."

As he spoke, there arose from out of the bushes and flowers of the garden a swarm of tiny lights in all the colors of the rainbow, tiny lanterns surrounded by a glimmering fog of air made light. They flocked around the two ponies, their movements soft and musical. Then, they spread out, and formed a trail leading out of the garden to the street.

"Your Majesty," Star Swirl said, and bowed, "Would you care to see Cambridle by night?"

Luna smiled. "Very well. But I ask that thou... you, call me Luna."

Star Swirl smiled. "As you wish, Luna."

The two of them left the garden and the statue of Night-Mare Moon behind, and followed the trail of dancing lights out onto the streets of Cambridle, and once again the Princess gasped at the sight. The gray stone buildings had taken on a dazzling variety of deep colors, traces of ancient paints and other stains that only revealed themselves to the dark light. Luna's attempts to admire the display were interrupted, however, by the other ponies on the street.

The ponies who had been feasting in the streets were now silent in shock as they looked about them, or else panicking that the darkness was swallowing them whole. One ran screaming into the night; another recoiled, shrieking in fright, as each shifting shadow made her think something was going to leap out and tear out her throat; by the dozen, they backed up to the gas lanterns lining the streets, which still shed recognizeable light, or else ran inside to hide with their candles and lanterns.

"Hmmph," Star Swirl grunted. "This won't do at all." He closed his eyes and charged his horn with magic once again, and one by one the lamps on the streets flickered, and died. Shortly thereafter the candles in the row of houses lining the road did the same.

– – –

"Well, here it comes," Ivory Tower said, watching from the Tower of Arts as the unearthly haze spread across the town. "We're doomed."

Check Mate opened his mouth to speak, but Ivory Tower glared at him and he thought better of it.

– – –

Turner pushed open the library doors and found the camp on high alert. The librarians were in battle formation, armed with spear-quills and armor-grade bookmarks. The unicorns among them were using their magic to try to force back the aether as it pressed on into the building, but falling back when they saw that nothing they tried had any effect. "Turner!" a mare's voice cried, and the earth pony stallion saw Ginny waving at him. "Get into hiding! It's taking over the city!"

Turner only smiled as he cantored up to her and said, "Don't worry about it." He grabbed hold of her and began to swing her around in a dance. "This is a time for celebration! It's Night-Mare Night!" he said, and kissed her deeply as the aether washed over them.

– – –

Down one street, Summer Petal the gardener tended to his flowers while the revellers screamed and ran madly into the living night all around him. He barely noticed them. His attention was locked on the plants.

Summer Petal was no stranger to students of magic engaging in poorly thought-out experiments on his plants. He had seen the grass grow as tall as a pony in the blink of an eye, and shrink again as soon as nopony was looking. He had seen trees pull up their roots up and walk. He had seen bees land on the ground and strike root while flowers flew between them, enveloping one bee at a time before returning to nest in bouquets hanging from the tree branches.

He had never seen what he saw now. His flowers were each and every one covered in sharp patterns of lines, or bursts of glowing color as though a painter had taken a slender brush and meticulously contributed to each individual petal and bud. Yet every dap, every line, every touch fit perfectly with what nature had seen fit to show him, and he knew that he was seeing the flowers as the bees saw them, as they knew themselves, as they truly were, and he knew that he had been blessed.

As the luminiferous aether thickened all around him, the patterns spread out with it, and he could only look around with a gigantic grin on his face. He began to laugh, a deep roaring belly-laugh that echoed down the streets as the screams faded far away.

– – –

And that is how Night-Mare Night came to Cambridle.

At the end of it all, Star Swirl and Luna found themselves sitting on the roof of the Hall of Understanding, as Princess Luna knew it, or the Old Hall, as it was known to everypony in the school. From there, half of Cambridle town was in view, and into the hills beyond the outer limits of the city, and everything was alive with the flowing, unearthly light. However, their focus was elsewhere.

Star Swirl was pouring sweat as he stared down between their bodies with ferocious concentration. He glanced up at the Princess and saw her confident, knowing grin egging him on.

"Doth your courage abandon you?" she purred. "And here you were telling me how good you are at this. Be warned, Star Swirl, you never want to leave a mare feeling disappointed..."

"Alright, I'll do it!" He gulped, and reached out a leg. Softly, hesitantly, his hoof touched down, and rubbed in a circle.

Luna tutted, shaking her head. "'Twas a poor move," Luna said. "Now learn from a more experienced teacher..." Her hoof made contact, and she nodded for Star Swirl to follow. He did so, then Luna again, then Star Swirl, then Luna once again, with a gesture of absolute finality.

"I declare victory!" she laughed. "Bow before your Princess!"

Star Swirl looked at the intricate grid of marked and unmarked squares on the roof tile between them "Seven in a row... This can't be possible..."

"I have had centuries to perfect my mastery of Naughts and Crosses, thou boastful young jackanape." Luna smiled at her triumph, and wiped the tile clean with a brush of magic. She chuckled to herself at the sight of the young unicorn grimacing in shock, trying to comprehend how he had been beaten.

He looked up at her, showing her a vicious frown. It softened, and turned into a smile. Slowly, both of them were overcome with uncontrollable laughter which seemed to go on for hours.

At length Star Swirl was able to draw a deep breath, and not immediately erupt in more laugher. He wiped tears from his eyes and looked at Luna, and was transfixed. Every trace of sorrow and caution was gone, every hint that she was wearing a mask of formality to protect herself or to live up to her obligations was washed away.

Luna could not remember the last time she had simply been so happy.

Neither of them spoke for a long time, but by silent agreement only sat and watched as Night-Mare Night rested upon the land, whispering to everypony across the world, whether they listened or not, of timeless wonders and a world filled with discoveries unlike anything that could be seen under the sun.

After a long time, Luna sighed. My night is drawing to an end, she thought. I suppose I must return to Everhold. She looked up to the heavens to find the bearing towards her home, and froze. There were the stars, and once again she felt that they were trying to tell her something, trying to draw her attention to the young colt by her side. But why? What could he be, that is so important? A memory came to her of the first time they met. What were his words? "I want to go see the world, do great things, and be somepony". What potential is in him?

Luna felt her blood run cold as the stars, and the earth, and the heavens, whispered the answer: Everything.

"Star Swirl?" she said.

"Yes, Luna?"

"For a long time now, something has been weighing heavily upon my mind..." she said quietly. "A premonition of something terrible, some great calamity upon the horizon. I don't know what. And I don't know when. But I fear that if I cannot discover it in time, then whatever it is it will simply overwhelm us, and crush all of ponykind when it comes." She turned to face the unicorn. "Would you like to help me try to uncover it, and avert it?"

His eyes lit up with glee, thoughts and images rushed through his mind: Star Swirl, savior of ponykind, a figure of myth and legend, his name on everypony's lips, known to all as the protector of the world, standing alongside an immortal Alicorn Princess. He leapt to his hooves. "Yes! Yes! Your highness, of course!"

Luna took a step back from the sheer energy of his response. He noticed, and bowed, doing his best to calm himself. "What do you want me to do?"

"For now – learn, and prepare," she said. "You have unusual magical power, Star Swirl, but I would see you master it. Will you stay here at Cambridle, and study, as you had intended?"

"I – yes, Princess Luna," he said, but reluctantly. "A full study takes seven years. What if it comes before then?"

"This premonition has been on my mind for many years already, and yet it has become no clearer to me," Luna said, placing a hoof on Star Swirl's shoulder. "I think we must prepare well, rather than charge in haste. Will you do this?"

Star Swirl nodded.

"Good... Thank you, once again, for everything." She sighed deeply. "My night is drawing to an end... I must return home, to Everhold. My sister will be worried for me."

Star Swirl grumbled an "aww" of disappointment, and looked at her with big, pleading eyes. She gave a small, dignified chuckle, then leaned in and gave a small peck on the colt's cheek. "I had a lovely time, Star Swirl. Thank you." Then she got up on her hind legs, spread her wings wide, and with a single mighty beat of her wings rose up into the air.

Star Swirl watched her as she set off into the night, her dark silhouette clearly visible against the vivid starlit sky. His mind was scrambled and fuzzy, feeling the mark on his cheek. Only after several minutes did he regain sufficient focus to notice the shimmer at the edge of his vision, and as he looked around he found himself sensing that every star in the heavens was watching him intently.

Help her.

His breath caught in his throat as an image entered his mind, of pain and destruction. At the center of it lay the Princess of the Night, covered in blood, tears running down her face.

Save her.

And then it was gone.

Author's Note

This chapter marks is the end of the first act of the story of Star Swirl and the Crown of Night. I hope you've enjoyed it so far, and will stick around for the future.

I keep going back and forth about which tags to put on this story. Is this dark? Well, certainly not compared to some stories on this site, but it's not all sunshine and rainbows either. Of course, Star Swirl objects strongly to the idea that "dark" means something unpleasant at all. I'm also unsure if this is sufficiently sad to be tagged "sad". The AU tag is only there because this probably isn't going to end up tracing established canon quite as scrupulously as I had originally intended, but it is still intended to fit with the broad outline of the show. As you can probably tell from all the callbacks to "Luna Eclipsed" in this chapter, I do love sprinkling the stories with details that connect back to the show.

Five Star Swirl points to anyone who spots the mythological error.

Interlude: Fuel for the Fire

Coming without warning at the height of a relatively long period of peaceful cooperation, the dissolution of diplomatic relations between the Griffon Kingdom and the allied Pony Duchies was sudden and precipitous.

It began with the murder of Archduke Pferdinand by a griffon assassin, and the subsequent capture of a cell of mostly griffon malcontents in the Archduke's home city. Although there were also a few ponies in the group, word that the griffons were responsible spread quickly. Later that night, the first attacks on griffon travellers and their property in border cities took place.

“Three things are needed to make a fire,” the Margrave Baron Whiteblood said. “A supply of fuel, enough heat, and abundant air. Fuel is easy,” he said, throwing a log on the dimly glowing embers. “And air is easy...” He put one hoof on the grip of the bellows and pushed, watching with satisfaction as the gust of air made the embers glow more brightly. “Well?”

“The attack went flawlessly,” the White Knight said from behind him, and Whiteblood smiled. “The carriage was exactly where it was supposed to be, and the guard slipped at just the right moment.”

“You bribed the guard to look away?”

“Nothing so crude,” the White Knight replied. “An associate of mine ensured that the guard suffered from poor sleep the night before, and an upset stomach. At the crucial moment, only a little push was needed. To any bystander, or any investigator, it will appear to have been dumb luck.”

The Margrave chuckled, watching as the fire licked at the log, the bark curling up and turning black. “How artful. What of the assassin and his cohorts? Could they betray us?

The White Knight shook his head. “They know nothing. In fact they are quite convinced it was all their own idea.”

“Indeed? How did you arrange that?”

“Oh...” the White Knight's voice reverberated within his helmet, “There was merely a voice in the right place, a few carefully chosen words to spur the mind to action, some encouragement, promises of power and dreams fulfilled. In truth, it is often surprisingly easy to see some great and terrible deed done. You need only find some who want it done anyway, and offer them what they already desire.”

“The feathered breeds are so very simple,” Whiteblood said, smiling.

After the Archduke's death, his son inherited his father's title. But, as the new Archduke was in fact only four years old, his powers were placed with a regent protector until he came of age. Under normal circumstances, the regent protector would have been a close relative. However, since this occurred while the borderlands were under a state of emergency, under the terms of the Treaty of Neighton those powers instead went to the hereditary military protector of the Borderlands, the Count of the Marches. The Count of the Marches, now vested with far-reaching emergency powers, immediately proceeded to strengthen the military defences of the borders and major cities and marshalled the support of other nobles to raise an army larger than had been seen since the end of the last war.

“To think that just a few days ago, almost nopony remembered what 'Margrave' even means,” said Baron Whiteblood, Count of the Marches. “They thought I was just another pony with a crumbling estate, my title nothing but empty words. They thought I was, in truth, no different from any commoner.” His face contorted in revulsion at the thought. “Now, everypony will remember that words have power, and that nobility is borne in the blood.”

“In times of peace, the mind grows weak,” the White Knight said. “When your survival depends upon understanding your surroundings, your mind is swiftly honed. A wise ruler places challenges in the way of his subjects that tests their mettle, and weeds out the unfit. A foolish ruler thinks only of peace and plenty, and is inevitably destroyed. Your subjects need to be... challenged.”

“Oh,” the Margrave said with vivid anticipation, “they will be.”

After the assassination, relations only continued worsening. Rumours spread that a network of griffon spies were working across the borderlands, and griffons suspected of being spies were attacked by vigilantes. Griffon merchants were taken into custody after their property was attacked, the Margrave said, for their own protection. Anger spread in the streets. Brawls took place, were broken up by the militias, and the instigators were arrested. Rumours spread that foals had gone missing, and griffons were accused of abudcting them, some said in order to eat them.

Across the border, in the Griffon Kingdom, the griffon nobility was clawing lines in the sand. The griffon lords denied any involvement in the death of the Archduke, and demanded the release of their subjects from pony gaols, and threatened to expel ponies within the Kingdom and confiscate their property if their subjects were harassed further. With the griffon nobility breathing down his neck and demanding an aggressive response to what they perceived as an affront to their honor, the Griffon King Blaze ordered his own armies to station along the border in response to the buildup of military forces by the pony lords.

“My master has a gift,” the White Knight said. “He knows what lies within any pony's heart... or any other creature, for that matter. What they desire most, what they fear most. Getting what you want in this world is only a matter of finding the right place to push.”

“It is always the same,” Whiteblood said, nodding. “It is only a matter of having the necessary components.”

Margrave Baron Whiteblood was outspoken with his public condemnations of 'the griffon menace' sowing discontent and unrest across both their lands. Never popular with foreigners, the Margrave quickly became the most hated figure among all griffons. However, events continued to lend credence to his allegations as whispered rumours of griffon wrongdoing one day turned into the concrete allegations of the next day, and the confirmed arrests of the day after. Faced with an unending stream of revelations from an unravelling web of griffon criminal activity, the pony public rallied around the Margrave.

“Get me five more for next week,” the Margrave said. “As always, if a single word ties me to them, everything is off.”

The White Knight nodded. “Where do you want them? Is there a strategic location where you desire it to begin?”

“It doesn't matter where it begins,” Whiteblood said. “If the temperature is high enough, you will get fire.”

The major roads crossing the border were, by now, heavily fortified on either side, armies of griffon and pegasus warriors a stone's throw apart, watching the other intently.

Of course, when the first arrow flew, both sides claimed that the other side had fired first, and when the first day of fighting ended a thousand warriors were flown back to their cities with crippling injuries, and two hundred more with white sheets covering their faces.

Two days after the war began in earnest, the first shipment of crates carrying abducted unicorns left the Whiteblood Barony under the White Knight's supervision.

“More will come, in time,” the White Knight said. “My master sends his thanks, milord baron. These will serve his purposes well.”

The Margrave nodded. “I confess myself astonished, sir knight,” he said. “Everything has gone exactly as you promised. Soon, the land of Whiteblood will be the strongest, and the most pure land in all the world.”

“As it once was,” the White Knight said, “as it was meant to be. As long as the shipments continue...”

“They will. I don't care where they're going, or what happens after,” Whiteblood said. “Just so long as you get them out of my lands, and as long as nopony knows.”

Thie White Knight nodded. “Nopony will know. Nopony will see.”

– – –

“There is one,” Princess Luna said to herself, “who sees everything.”

Far away from the borderlands, in Everhold, the Princess of the Night watched. While Her Royal Highness Princess Celestia spoke in grave and sorrowful tones, and called for a swift and peaceful resolution to the diplomatic crisis, and offered to personally lead efforts to that end with everything at her disposal, the Princess of the Night sat alone in the Tower of the Turning Skies, and watched the stars intently, her thoughts locked on the Count of the Marches.

She drew a breath, and spoke out loud: “Captain.”

Behind her, a pegasus stallion clad in dark armor stepped forward without a sound, and bowed. “Yes, your highness?”

“I have a mission for you.”

Chapter 6: The Halls of Enlightenment (Star Swirl vs Cambridle, round 1)

Little is remembered by historians of Star Swirl the Bearded's time in Cambridle. Primarily, this is because at this time the work of chroniclers was naturally dominated by the strife of the Great Griffon War. However, a few historical texts exist which mention the appearance of the young unicorn, stating that “Star Swirl's talent was clear from a young age, and the young stallion made a lasting impression on those around him,” though one of his principal tutors, Professor Check Mate, described him as “a troubled young colt.”

When Star Swirl's student Clover the Clever wrote her own definitive work on the life of the great wizard she was able to locate Check Mate's personal documents and found that the “troubled young colt” quote was the only safe part of a long section filled with considerably more colorful language. Clover included choice passages in the appendices of her work, and would occasionally find them useful in her own dealings with Princess Platinum.

What is known however is that Star Swirl's grades were rarely the highest awarded in his classes. Exactly why is unknown, as it was well-understood that even from a young age his insights into the operations of magic were astounding.

– – –

“...And as we are just about out of time, let me conclude,” Professor Ivory Tower, a white unicorn mare with a grey mane kept firmly disciplined at a precise length that never altered, gestured to the complex mathemagical equations written on the chalkboard. “These are the laws of Magical Relativity. Be sure to study them for next week. Understanding these equations is essential to properly constructing a temporal pocket, the most basic technique of chronomancy.” She turned from the chalkboard to face the fifteen unicorn students who made up the class. “Any questions?”

She was met with silence, except for some soft snores. Everypony turned to glance at the source of the disturbance, lying slumped over a bench at the back of the room. She sighed. “Does anypony other than Star Swirl have any questions?” They shook their heads.

Ivory Tower ended the lecture and returned to her office, muttering to herself. Later that day, at that week's faculty meeting, she would complain to the other senior staff that this was the third time in a row Star Swirl had slept through her class. The others would in turn respond that he slept through theirs as well, and that when he was awake he was dismissive of anything they had to teach him. Then they would marvel and rage that Star Swirl still handed in work that demonstrated a complete understanding of the subject in question, although with a staggering disregard for the proper way to structure a paper or how to properly write citations. This is how things had gone for the entire first year of his studies.

“Why is he even here?” Ivory Tower had often wondered. “Luna knows he's not learning anything from us. He doesn't even pretend to listen to anything we have to tell him.”

“If it were only his own education he was ruining I would not feel so indignant,*” said Professor Check Mate, a massive brown unicorn stallion, brown and bald, his voice a deep rumbling, “but he is disrupting the environment for everypony around him.”

*: Yes he would and everypony knows it.

The other teachers nodded and mumbled their agreement.

“It can't be helped,” said Professor Incisive Commentary, the eldest of the entire faculty, a skinny beige bespectacled stallion with a long goatee, clad in an old-fashioned green robe and hat. “The young chap is lacking in forethought, but there's no malice in him.” The faculty nodded. They all knew this because they had searched hard for any reason to punish him, and had come up empty. The precedent for student mischief going unpunished, it seemed, was extremely comprehensive and involved each member of the faculty personally. “It behooves us to try to show him the better way.”

“I heard from my friend in Trotsford the other day,” one of them said. “It seems Harold Trotter committed sixteen expulsion-worthy offenses in his first year.”

Ivory Tower raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“They rewrote the rulebook to add in exceptions for everything just for him, because he's so wonderful. Then they gave him and his roommate medals.”

“Sooner or later,” Check Mate said, “something is going to have to be done.”

– – –

Turner's alarm clock went off with the baying of the Library Hounds, as it did every morning, and the tan earth pony stallion leapt out of bed with ease and vigor which was sure to infuriate anypony who saw it. After making his bed and doing his early-morning stretches, he went out to the common room and set about making his breakfast.

It was just as he took the first sip of his morning tea that he noticed that the door to Star Swirl's room was open, and inside the unicorn was sitting at his desk.

“Morning,” Turner said.

Star Swirl turned at the sound, and looked out the window. “Oh,” he said. “So it is.”

Star Swirl's room had quickly turned into a huge mess. While this was traditional in all student societies across the universe, Star Swirl's mess was slightly different: he had very little in the way of dirty clothes and old food, and very much in the way of stacks of paper and parchment, vast quantities of ink-bottles, and strange homemade patchwork astronomical instruments, all of which formed an artificial landscape through which paths had formed that any traveller in the room had to adhere to, or else risk falling prey to wild beasts.

Turner also suspected the room had somehow grown larger since the unicorn moved in, and wondered if the extra space had come out of his own room or a neighbour's.

“You sat up all night again, I take it?”

“It's hard to study the stars otherwise,” Star Swirl said. “I tried looking up from the bottom of a deep well. Doesn't work.” He yawned. “Doesn't matter, I'll get my sleep later.”

Turner took a step inside the room, and barely avoided knocking over a half-full ink bottle. “I'm curious, Star Swirl. How exactly do you get all this ink? Because I'm pretty sure you have no money.”

“I have my methods,” Star Swirl answered. “You know they've doubled the price over the past year? Something about 'supplied demand'. Blackguards. I might not have enough to finish this treatise, now.” A thought seemed to strike him, and he looked up at his roommate. “You still live here.”

“Glad you noticed,” Turner said cheerfully.

“I thought last year was your final year?”

“I completed my degree in physics,” Turner said. “but I'm going to try for a doctorate in material sciences. I always wanted to be a doctor.” He stared up at the ceiling wistfully for a second. “Also I want to stay close to Ginny.”

Turner grinned to see Star Swirl's shudder at the mention of her name. Ginny was possibly the only pony in Cambridle who scared the young unicorn. “Which reminds me,,” Turner continued, “there was a young mare here yesterday afternoon.”

“Oh?” Star Swirl replied, not looking up.

“Yellow coat, blueish mane, flowers and shears cutie mark? She was looking for you. You were out. Something about going out to eat.”

“Oh,” Star Swirl said, still not looking up.

Turner rolled his eyes. “Yes, Star Swirl, some ponies are actually interested in spending time, with you, doing enjoyable things. You should think about giving it a try sometime.”

“I did,” Star Swirl said. “Every time I agree to spend time with somepony they get in the way of my work for a week, and then I never hear from them again. The predictability gets a bit grating in the long run. I think I'll pass, thanks.”

Turner frowned, nodded, and headed back to his breakfast, wondering how to break the rejection the next time flowers-and-shears came knocking. The numbers of curious mares, and occasional young stallions, looking to get close to Star Swirl had dropped off steadily as the year had gone by, and everypony had gotten their chances to see him in class. Still, Turner could understand it, sort of. Star Swirl had an air of mystery about him, a certain amount of coltish charm and good looks, and of course had quickly passed into Cambridle legend as a genius wizard who had appeared as suddenly as a bolt of lightning. The fact that he was younger than every other student at Cambridle only seemed to distinguish him further. But then the lucky few who had managed to seize his attention found themselves dealing with his actual behavior...

None of them had stuck around for long afterwards. A few brave souls had tried studying with him in the dorm: they had left in tears, fallen behind in their studies, and left Cambridle entirely soon afterwards. And the queue moved one step forward and tried again... And Turner was the one who had to answer the door each time.

– – –

"Burnt feathers, I'm late..." Blue horn muttered to himself as he galloped down the street towards his first class of the day. He dodged and leapt the busy street, ignoring the angry cries behind him, and couldn't help but smile. Why is getting yelled at by commoners so fun? Just imagine what Uncle would do. His smile faded at the thought of his uncle. Well, he'd burn down all of Cambridle. But he'd do that anyway.

He kept running, exhilirating in the feeling of being just another unicorn in a town almost entirely made up of stickheads, when the empty space in front of him suddenly wasn't, and he toppled over and smashed into the cobblestones. He groaned, and clambered back onto his hooves, and looked back to see what had tripped him. There was still nothing there, but he heard the sound of another pony groaning in pain. Blue Horn grabbed a stick from the gutter with his magic and poked the thin air until he found the obstruction, which said "Hey! Knock it off!"

A billow of magic passed over it, revealing the fallen body of Star Swirl. "Oh," Blue Horn muttered. "It's you."

Star Swirl grunted in response, and stood up. "Pay attention to where you're going, will you?"

Blue Horn stared at him. "Were you just practicing an invisibility spell in the middle of a crowded street?"

"Of course,” Star Swirl answered, brushing dust off his robe. “How else would I know if it's working?"

Blue Horn gritted his teeth. "You know, Star Swirl, don't listen to any of the rumours about you. The truth is you're actually an idiot. Are you going to History of Spellcraft?"

"Maybe. When is it?"

"Five minutes ago," Blue Horn said, looking at the Old Hall clock tower in the distance. "Tartarus. I'm leaving."

Blue Horn felt the bile rising in his throat as he left Star Swirl behind.

He had been curious about the young talent, at first. When he first arrived in Cambridle, a strange city far from his home, a city filled with more unicorns than he had known existed, where he could wander the streets and not draw any attention at all. He remembered clearly the first time he heard two other students talking about the arrival of a young unicorn outcast from distant lands, a unicorn born of what had been unmixed earth pony stock for as long as anypony knew. So I didn't react all that well. I didn't hurt them seriously before they broke us apart. How was I supposed to know it wasn't me they were talking about? And in such crude and insulting terms... It was almost like listening to Uncle. He shook his head at the thought of the students casually talking about 'mud ponies' and 'half-breeds' as he entered the building and made for the Hind-Gazing Chamber, a name that earned it no small amount of snickering from the more juvenile students. They could have called it the 'Facing History Chamber', or a million other things, but no.

Blue Horn had approached the younger colt, curious to see his reflection from the opposite end of Ponydom, and had tried to speak to him. When they finally put out the fire, Cambridle learned that it now had a pair of overachieving young unicorns Tartarus-bent on one-upping one another in every way they could manage.

Blue Horn snuck into the class quietly, and managed to not rouse the ire of Professor Incisive Commentary. The skinny, soft-spoken senior wizard only continued speaking at length about the different categories of magic and how they were discovered and codified in ancient times. Blue Horn snuck down the rows and sat down beside a mare, who moved her things aside to make room for him.

The class went on for another five minutes when the door opened and Star Swirl burst in, silencing the professor for a moment. The ancient, bespectacled stallion only glanced briefly at the colt before continuing, but several of the students threw annoyed glances his way. Blue Horn caught Star Swirl's eyes for a second, and they both glared at each other before Star Swirl huffed, and found himself a seat alone on the opposite end of the room.

Halfway through the class, everypony heard the soft snores begin.

– – –

Star Swirl stared at the shimmering aurora. It was like the Northern Lights he had seen sometimes, on winter nights in Edinspur, but instead of hanging distant in the sky, it was held up just a few feet in front of his eyes. It hung and danced in the air before him, breathing with constantly shifting colors, not limited either to the colors pony eyes could see, but passed through shades Star Swirl could not describe, much less name.

“It is called the Weave,” Princess Luna said, as she bent and shifted a strand of the magical energy for Star Swirl to see. The landscape around them was dark and bare, and they could see the line of the horizon unbroken around them. “Arcane energies like this flow through the earth and the skies, and even here, in the Dreamlands.” She stretched it out with a thought, and brought it near. “Do you see how it is made up of countless tendrils, like hairs of mane?” Star Swirl looked closely, and nodded. From even a short distance it seemed as whole and unvaried as a cloud, but the closer he looked the more detail emerged: countless threads, impossibly thin, looking like they were just about to melt into one another but remaining unique. “With a gentle magical grip, these threads can be separated from the Weave,” she gently teased out a number of fine strands of magical energy, and began tying them together into an intricate pattern. “Then, these threads can be woven or tied together into useful shapes and structures.”

She presented her creation: a translucent magical egg, within which a dense smoke of power churned and roiled. Star Swirl could only stare at it with wide eyes.

Princess Luna nodded to her student. “Now you try.”

For the next half hour, Star Swirl attempted to coax out a thread, with Luna watching and advising, until finally the colt grinned triumphantly at a single thread of magic that curled and uncurled lazily in his grip.

Fifteen minutes after that, Star Swirl was shifting the threads with ease. “I can probably come up with a more effective method for doing this,” he said under his breath.

“Be warned that I have chosen a spot where the Weave is pliable,” Princess Luna chided, but with a smile. “In the waking world it will not come as easily, or as bountifully.” She looked around at the empty landscape. “That is enough for now. How are your studies otherwise? Are you getting along with the other students?”

“They waste my time,” Star Swirl said bluntly. Luna looked saddened and surprised to hear this, but before she could say anything he continued. “It doesn't matter. I'm here for the work, not for drunken revelry. If the others don't like me, they can argue with my results.”

“I see...” Luna said slowly. “Is there anything else you want to talk about? Are you having any difficulties?”

“Oh, well...” Star Swirl gave her a sheepish, pleading look.

She sighed. “You need more ink money? Again?”

“It runs out so quickly!” Star Swirl said nervously. “I try to make it last, but there's so much to write down. It's astonishing how wrong ponies are, about everything. I need to show them!”

“Perhaps you should confine yourself to a specialized field, to begin with,” Luna said, ignoring the horror Star Swirl's face displayed at the notion. “But I'll see what I can do. This is coming out of my personal funds, you realize. I trust you to be reasonable, Star Swirl.”

“Thank you, Luna!” Star Swirl bowed, breathless with gratitude, his hooves tapping with exhiliration.

Luna chuckled. “You're welcome.”

Star Swirl quickly composed himself. “If you don't mind my asking, Luna, how are you? Have you learned anything more about the... thing?”

“It goes... slowly,” she said quietly. She gestured with a hoof, and the two of them began to walk across the desolate landscape towards a hill that had appeared in the distance. “The War leaves little room for concern for anything else.”

Star Swirl bit his lip, and looked up at her unhappily. “Am I taking up too much of your time with these lessons? Am I bothering you?”

“No, no,” Luna waved a hoof. “I am happy for these lessons. It has been too long since last I taught somepony the Arts. Since we are in the Dreamlands, I need not travel from Everhold, and while we work, I can also keep an eye on the state of the Dreamlands themselves. Even as we speak, part of my mind is roaming far and wide.” Her voice turned somber and cold as they walked up the path to the top of the hill. “The Dreamlands are vast, and I alone can walk them freely. I am entrusted to keep them safe from things that would prey on sleeping minds... but I cannot be everywhere. Sometimes I think I hear a faint weeping on the wind, a distant suffering dreamer that I cannot locate when I search for them.” She shook her head sadly. “The horrors of the war sweep across the night-time rest of everypony to the south. You are most fortunate to be so distant. I must dedicate my waking hours to the War, and I fear time is running out on everything else.”

– – –

Star Swirl's second year passed much as his first, except that as he became more familiar with academic standards he found new and innovative ways to disregard them.

"What do you mean 'that's not true'?" Professor Check Mate demanded. "It is the Law of Thaumic Dissipation! It is embedded in the fabric of the universe itself! Everypony who has ever tried to disprove it has failed.*"

*: The last time somepony tried was fifty years previously. Their competing theory, while interesting, only functioned if you assumed a zero-dimensional universe.

"Well, I went and looked," Star Swirl said, "and it didn't look anything like that."

"The Law of Thaumic Dissipation is an absolute mathematical fact! It is not something that you can 'go look at'!"

"And yet I did," Star Swirl declared confidently. "I followed the background flow of magical energy to a nexus in the Dreamlands and made some calculations, and when the numbers ran up against the Marelin Constant, the output was 0.00005% higher than the Law of Thaumic Dissipation predicted. I checked it three times. There was no other interference in the numbers that could have caused it. Clearly the Law needs to be scrapped from the books."

"Celestia preserve me, he's a mystic," Check Mate muttered with wide eyes. "You want to rewrite four hundred years of magical science because of a dream you had?"

Star Swirl grunted indignantly in response.

"Tell me, then," Check Mate continued, "if the Law of Thaumic Dissipation is false, how do you explain that the magic that builds upon it is, in fact, functional?"

Star Swirl shrugged. "I'm thinking about it," he said. "Maybe imps do it."

Check Mate groaned loudly. Outside, the bell tower began to ring. "Once again half our time has been wasted on mister Swirl's delusions," he said. "We will try again next week—yes, miss Ruby?"

The mare lowered her hoof, glancing nervously around her. "So, should I disregard the Law of Thaumic Dissipation until more research is in?"

Check Mate began sobbing.

– – –

Across the Borderlands, the war raged. The Firemane Duchy was occupied by Griffon forces, and the once-prosperous Talon Plains was a barren vista of broken walls and flooded, muddy plains. Both sides had suffered casualties in the tens of thousands; emergency recruitment put every able-bodied pony in the Borderlands in uniform, while to the north young ponies were enticed with promises of glory and valor. Food and water, tools and supplies, were sucked up from everywhere and funneled to the Whiteblood Barony for the Margrave's approval.

– – –

"Have you heard this?" Turner asked his roommate. Turner was looking out the open window, listening to the town crier at the crossroads below.

"What is it?" Star Swirl asked, and came up beside the earth pony. Turner gestured for him to listen.

"Ink shortage sweeps across Braytannia!" the town crier yelled. "Authorities speak out against hoarding by selfish ponies! Rumours spread of vast stores of ink hidden in secret underground vaults by unnamed unicorn!"

“What an absolute prat,” Turner mumbled. “Some ponies just don't pay attention to the world around them at all. Right?” He turned to Star Swirl, and caught the unicorn's too-innocent look. “...Star Swirl?”

“Yes?”

“You didn't actually buy up all the ink in Cambridle all at once, did you?”

“No!” Star Swirl protested. “Only sixty-five percent of it.” He wilted under Turner's stare. "I need to finish my article about Thaumic Imp Theory. It's important work! Luna said it was okay."

"Star Swirl, we've talked about listening to the voice in your head," Turner said patiently. "Is it true that you have a secret underground vault?"

"No. It's just in my room. Incidentally, be warned that my room seems to be expanding. I'm not sure why it's doing that. I'm looking into it."

– – –

Throughout Star Swirl's third year the peace between him and everypony around him, tense at the best of times, grew more strained.

"Does everypony understand Hawk King's Isochronal Derivation?" Blue Horn asked, and the unicorns around the table shuffled their papers.

"I'm not sure why we're studying a griffon in the first place," a pale gray mare with a slim horn and an ashen white mane said. "We're at war with them for a reason."

"A reason," Blue Horn said under his breath, emphasizing the 'A'. Nopony heard him, but the table quickly broke out into a bitter exchange about the merits of the war, the free exchange of academic work, and the inherent suspiciousness of feathers. Blue Horn let it continue for a few minutes before shouting "enough!" and pounding the table for silence. "Colloqium! We are here to study, not to argue about politics. Does anypony understand the Isochronal Derivation? Or are you all allergic to feathers?"

The students looked around sheepishly. One mare raised a hoof. "I didn't get it, to be honest."

"Me neither," said another, and a chorus of nods, uh huh-s and me too-s moved over the table.

Star Swirl sighed loudly.

Everypony turned to look at him. Star Swirl had not spoken the entire time they had been meeting, and was reclining in his non-reclining chair, tipping it back and resting his hindlegs on the table.

Blue Horn rolled his eyes. “Well, if it's so easy then why don't you explain it?”

“The Isochronal Derivation,” Star Swirl said, “is the technique for turning a basic temporal pocket into one capable of fluid chronomantic interaction in tangible space. Within such a pocket, time is made malleable. A skilled practitioner of chronomancy can speed up or slow down the passage of time within the pocket, while an exceptional one can make leaps in time to make the contents of the pocket a few days older or younger.” He gave a heavy sigh like a withered old stallion despairing at his juniors.

"Is there a problem, Swirl?" Blue Horn asked.

"Not at all," he said. "I'm just trying to remember why I'm here. It may be the most difficult question I've encountered in Cambridle."

"Exams are approaching. The Hour of Reckoning. The professors conspire to undo us, and we do the same to them. What's hard to understand?"

"There shouldn't be any problem with the exams," Star Swirl waved a hoof dismissively. "I've already given you all everything you need to know in one sentence."

"Ah yes, the infamous Cambridle Universal Answer Code," Blue Horn turned to a chalkboard on the wall, which was covered in indecipherable writing. "A sentence that contains everything taught at the Academy in one. The one you had to invent a new language in order to write. That's very helpful."

"Two new languages," Star Swirl clarified. "One to express the sentence and one to translate it into something a pony mind is able to learn how to understand. Point is, it's all there. I've tried to teach it to you, but you don't listen!"

"Are you here to learn?" Blue Horn asked sharply. "Do you want to prepare for the exam or not? Because we are trying to prepare in a way us mere mortal ponies can comprehend. Is that too mundane for the great and powerful Star Swirl?"

"It's not my problem that you're all too busy arguing about the average IQ of griffons and pegasi to study properly," Star Swirl said, dropping his back legs to the floor. "I've learned everything this place has to teach me already. I've finished all the material for the seventh year! I don't know why they won't let me take those exams right now."

Groans filled the air and a dozen ponies rolled their eyes, facehoofed, or shook their heads in exasperation.

"Well, nopony's forcing you," Blue Horn said, not shifting his eyes away from Star Swirl for an instant. "The rest of us are going to prepare for the task we are actually going to be asked to do in our exams. If you want to do that, you're free to join us. If you'd rather chase fairies and will-o-the-wisps, feel free to leave."

Star Swirl got up and left without saying another word.

– – –

“The test scores are dropping dangerously low this month,” Professor Ivory Tower said.

Professor Check Mate nodded.

"Have you thought about... just letting him take the seventh year exams?”

"Chaos and Cosmos, not you too," Check Mate said, his voice filled with disbelief.

The two of them sat alone high up in the administration building, preparing the instructions for the upcoming exams.

"Seriously, think about it," Ivory Tower said. "He's less than halfway through his study, and Cambridle is falling apart. The students can't work because he somehow gets all the ink from every new shipment that comes into town. He disrupts all his classes. He takes up all the faculty's time so we can't help the students who could actually be helped. He fills the minds of everypony around him with wild-eyed theories that somehow work for him but that break everypony else who tries to make heads or tails of them. Do you think Cambridle can stand another four years of this? But if we let him take them... I believe him when he says that he's already read through all the material. Have you spoken to the librarians about him? They say he's developed a way of reading only with the feel of his grip.” She let that sink in for a second. A practiced unicorn sorceror could hold a thousand books in their magical grip at once. “We could let him take the exams, give him straight Ds, send him off with a diploma that's just one giant asterisk."

"We do not reward students who disrupt the sacred task of enlightenment,*" Check Mate rumbled. "We may be altogether too forgiving of the unavoidable errors of judgement so common to youth, but some lines we simply do not cross!"

*: No, no qualifications, no dilution, no ambiguity. We just don't.

"What is more important," Ivory Tower said, "being sufficiently vindictive to one colt, or preserving the well-being of the entire university?"

The white mare got up from her seat. "I have to get going. Just think about it." She left Check Mate sitting there alone.

Unbelievable, he thought. Am I the only sane pony remaining in Cambridle? He gritted his teeth. This lunacy will destroy this university. If only there were some way I could halt this plummet... He looked down at the papers on the table before him.

Maybe there is.

He picked up a quill in his magical grip and set to writing.

– – –

“Your highness!” Professor Ivory Tower greeted the Princess of the Night as she alighted from the Lunar Chariot. The scholar bowed. “I am honored to welcome you to Cambridle.”

“Indeed,” Princess Luna answered. “We desired to overbear and witness the exams on this occasion. For too long have we had but a distant relationship to our school.”

“As you wish,” Ivory Tower said through a glued-on smile. “Though sending word of your plans a year in advance was perhaps a tad longer than necessary, but...”

“We wished to be certain that our arrival would not be,” Luna paused for just a split-second as she shot the professor a cold look that clearly stated that nothing had been forgotten, “an unpleasant surprise.”

“...Yes, your highness.”

“You yourself carry out practical exams, do you not? What is on the schedule for this evening?”

The others are going to owe me so much for agreeing to this. “Yes, your highness. I am doing the Chronomancy exams for third-years today.”

“Excellent,” Luna said, smiling. “We will observe them with you. Lead on.”

– – –

“Thank you for agreeing to this, Turner,” Star Swirl said. “None of the unicorn students would agree to assist me for my practical.”

“No problem,” Turner said happily, looking around the entrance chamber of the Old Hall. "Nice place, this. I've almost never been in the magic academy facilities. The material sciences building is all flat brick and experimental contraptions."

"It's the waiting that's worst," Star Swirl muttered, straightening out his ill-fitting student robes for the twentieth time as another pair of students were ushered out of the auditorium. A bored unicorn mare looked up from her book to watch them go. A few minutes passed before she looked up once again, seemingly nothing having changed, and said "You can go in now," to the two stallions.

"Finally," Star Swirl said and leapt up on his hooves. With Turner behind him, he strode into the great auditorium with his head held high, an easy smile on his lips and his eyes filled with confidence. His smile widened to a grin when he saw the Princess of the Night herself sitting alongside his teachers, smiling back at him.

Star Swirl descended the stairs to the stage at the bottom, turned to face the observers, and bowed.

"Mister Star Swirl," Professor Ivory Tower said, "taking his practical third-year Chronomancy exam. Presiding over this exam are myself, Professor Ivory Tower, and my colleagues, Professor Check Mate and Professor the Right Honorable Judge Learned Horn. In addition, this exam will be audited by her Royal Highness Princess Luna Noctis."

Luna nodded. "I am here only to observe," she said, smiling. "I will not be involved in determining your grade in any fashion. Please do not be nervous at my presence."

"Are you ready to begin?"

"Your highness, Professors," Star Swirl said. "I am ready, and I will be assisted, as directed, by mister Turner." Turner waved a hoof, smiling happily.

"Here is your assignment," Check Mate said in his characteristic deep rumble, and levitated a sealed envelope down to Star Swirl, who took it in his own grip. He broke the seal and began to read. "Begin when you are ready."

Star Swirl glanced briefly over the instructions: "Construct a three-dimensional temporal pocket capable of fluid chronomantic interaction centered on your assistant to these specifications," followed by a series of esoteric arcane equations. "Simple enough," he said confidently, and lit up his horn.

Check Mate leaned forward, watching intently. His forelegs rested on the table in front of him, his hooves meeting in position to conceal his smug smile. Not paying attention, he thought to himself. Arrogant, reckless foal. Missed the transposed variables. Now watch your sphere fizzle out and fall apart.

Star Swirl willed his magic to life, and the air around Turner filled with a faint glow. The earth pony glanced around with interest, and poked it with a hoof. "Just stand still please and relax, Turner," Star Swirl said, and began to extract invisible tendrils from the Weave, ensuring that they had the precise energy flow and force written on the instructions.

It resisted at first, but Star Swirl concentrated for a second and it yielded to him. Piece by piece, the construct began to take form, a wind picking up inside the hall as the magic grew. Second by second, more power flowed into it, and both Star Swirl and Check Mate found their smiles fading as they both realized it was not working as they had expected.

It's not fizzling, Check Mate thought. It's getting stronger.

It's not setting correctly, Star Swirl thought. Something's wrong. The pattern was folding improperly, as though the first principles were flawed. His eyes widened. If it continues accelerating... He began restraining the flow of magic, to try to undo the unfinished pattern, only for it to continue ahead against his wishes. Retrace my steps? No. Trying to walk backwards while working with time magic... equals an infinite loop of inverted universes. Not a good idea. The wind picked up strength, tossing Star Swirl's mane violently, and Turner glanced nervously from side to side. Redirect the Weave to construct a different pattern? It would be crude, and with so much power, volatile. I need to order and channel it in a harmless direction, but with Turner right at the center it will all pass through him.

Star Swirl thought desperately to come up with a solution while doing his best to fold the accelerating pattern in an orderly fashion. Soon, very soon, the pattern was going to sequence completely, and once that happened the structural imbalances would force themselves into an equillibrium. 'Force' being the important word.

What went wrong? Star Swirl asked himself. I followed the instructions to the letter. He glanced back at the assignment, his eyes racing across the equations.

Then, even as he was watching, the numbers twitched and rearranged themselves. It was only a small change: a few numbers shifted, buried deep within an equation, easy to miss. Now it was fine, and anypony examining the paper afterwards would find no problem. But as originally written, and as Star Swirl had performed it, the magical charge was weighted disproportionately to one side of the construct. That would normally cause the construct to dissolve ineffectually, Star Swirl thought. ...Unless you have maybe fifty times as strong magic to work with, and can simply force it through without really noticing, like I just did.

Star Swirl looked back up to Turner, who was now visibly sweating and looking like he wanted to bolt. The warped magic currents swirling all around him seemed to deter him, and at this point Star Swirl was not honestly sure staying put was a better idea.

Star Swirl gulped, feeling sweat forming on his own brow, as he sped up the pattern, turning one strand against another, weaving and unweaving it around the edges to slow the expansion. An idea came to mind. The results would not be ideal. But it was quite possibly the only outcome that didn't involve anyone dying. Star Swirl took hold of the Weave, and began to tie the fabric of the temporal pocket into the magic signature of his subject: weaving Turner's own magic field into the fabric of the timestream itself.

The pattern was continuing to accelerate, and was now approaching the speed of sound. Star Swirl knew he couldn't hold it back for much longer, and shifted all his energy to completing his work on Turner. The unicorn licked his lips, which felt dry as desert sand. "I really am most dreadfully sorry about this, Turner," he said, “I'll see if I can give you something in return.” Their eyes met, Turner's face a mask of fear. Star Swirl completed the final binding, and let the pattern race to its conclusion.

An instant later, the hall exploded.

A burst of light and sound that completely overwhelmed everyone present was immediately followed by a shockwave that sent them rocketing into the walls. The unicorns were just barely able to raise magic shields overhead before the ceiling caved in, sending several tons of rock and timber crashing down on their heads. The walls buckled outward, and began to crumble, as the ground beneath them quaked.

When the movement had stopped, the hall had functionally ceased to exist. A colossal pile of rubble in a depression in the ground, and a giant cloud of dust was all that remained of the Old Hall.

A shard of ceiling tipped over in the center of the pile, and Star Swirl clambered up from beneath it. His robe was reduced to a shredded rag held together by lone strands of thread. Patches of his fur had burned off, showing scraped, bruised skin underneath, and a trickle of blood dripped from his ears. He limped up towards the professors, one slow step at a time. His eyes were red, and fixed on Professor Check Mate.

"Star Swirl? What have you—*" Professor Mate did not get any further before he felt himself enveloped in a magic field that bound him in place and lifted him off the ground. Star Swirl's horn was glowing.

*: By Celestia's mane, what do you think you're—

In a matter of seconds, Star Swirl had constructed a flawless three-dimensional temporal pocket capable of fluid chronomantic interaction around the professor, and with a mental command, he activated it.

With the two other professors and Princess Luna watching, Check Mate reverted to a newborn foal, which began to cry.

The temporal pocket dissipated, leaving the crying infant lying on the broken stone floor. "There's my exam," Star Swirl said, with a chilling note of menace. He turned to face Princess Luna, who had watched the proceedings in shock, and attempted to bow. Partway through the motion, he toppled forward and lay unconscious with his face to the ground.

– – –

No more than three hours later, the official investigation into the event opened with the members of the faculty on the board of inquiry. They were assembled in a small brick building on a distant corner of the town, as the campus was buried in rubble and thick clouds of possibly toxic dust that would take weeks to clean up completely even with magic. The elder scholars sat awkwardly on plain wooden chairs around a plain wooden table entirely free of history or style.

"I brought the expulsion papers with me," a newly matured Check Mate said, and dropped the papers in question on the table. "No need to waste time."

"Expulsion is the least of his problems," Ivory Tower said. "The Old Hall was a priceless historical treasure. Nopony has been able to find a single trace of mister Turner. Star Swirl will be lucky if he does not spend the rest of his life in a dungeon!"

The assembled faculty nodded and murmured their agreement as one.

From a dark corner of the room a somber voice stated: “Is not the subject of an inquiry entitled to a defence?”

Tall and regal, Princess Luna stepped forward into the dim light of the room. “We recognize that we are not a member of this faculty,” she began, “but we feel that, since this academy was founded in our honor, our voice could be heard. Is this agreeable?”

Nopony in the faculty objected. Luna continued, “We believe it is best to give young Star Swirl the benefit of the doubt. We were observing the event very carefully, and we saw nothing in Star Swirl's technique that would have created this dire result. In fact we saw him recognize that something was amiss, and attempt to undo it.”

“Your highness, I must repeat myself,” Ivory Tower said. “He demolished a building, nearly killed three members of the faculty, magically assaulted a professor, placed you yourself in danger, and apparently vaporized a student. These are not things that can simply be dismissed and forgotten.”

“I ask not for dismissal, I ask only that blame is placed where it belongs,” Luna answered. “The eruption resulted from the structure of the magic, which Star Swirl constructed only precisely as he was instructed. Professor Mate has already confessed as such. The danger to our selves was not Star Swirl's doing. The loss of the building, while tragic, is not akin to the loss of life. And as for mister Turner...” Luna sighed. This was the hard part. “I can only assure you that I observed the entire incident most attentively, and on my honor I promise you that he did not die. Beyond that I cannot say for certain, but he did not die.”

The faculty sat in silence as the Princess pleaded with a gaze for their understanding.

"We will consider your words, your highness,” Professor Commentary said calmly. “Now, if there are no objections, bring in the student for questioning."

There are a very few occasions in the life of Star Swirl the Bearded when he was caught being anything other than confident and reassured. The first time that was recorded in official documentation was when he was questioned by the faculty of Cambridle.

The minutes from that questioning described him as a sealed tome attempting to contain a smoldering fire. He answered every question clearly but bluntly, unwilling to speak more than a few words at a time. Over half an hour he was cross-examined by every member of the faculty, on every detail of the incident. The entire time his eyes were fixed on the leg of a table directly ahead of him, refusing to meet the gaze of his interrogators.

Only once did he look up, and saw Luna sitting quietly in a corner, looking at him with sad, warm eyes. He held her gaze for two seconds, then dropped his face again. She recognized the look in his eyes. It was a look she had not seen on him since he was a little colt, spending his nights sitting alone on Llamrei's Seat, sad and uncertain, feeling closer to the stars countless miles away than to the ponies around him.

"I have only one more question," Ivory Tower finally said. "Star Swirl, where is mister Turner?"

Star Swirl paused, considering his words very carefully. "I am almost 100% certain that he is fine. Eventually."

– – –

Turner's world was pain. His head was pounding, and the noise around him was muffled and distant. He seemed to be lying flat on his back, but the way the entire world was spinning made it difficult to tell for certain. He opened his eyes, and immediately squeezed them shut again, blinded by sharp sunlight. What did I do last night? “Ginny?” he slurred. He raised a leg to block the light, and felt somepony take hold of it and pull him up to a standing position. He fell back on his haunches and groaned. “Wait, wait, just give me a minute...”

Slowly the sounds became more focused. “—still for a minute while I go get him something to drink, okay?”

“Alright, I'll stay with him. Can you hear me, doctor? Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

Turner was finally able to open his eyes properly, and saw a blurry figure sitting in front of him. Slowly the world came into focus, revealing a purple mare looking at him with concern. For some reason she was wearing a false beard, long robes and a pointy hat, all covered in star sigils and with tinkling bells hanging around the edges. They were sitting in front of a house fashioned from a great tree, and right outside the door...

Turner's jaw fell open. Outside of the door was a sign that read, in large and colorful letters,

ANCIENT UNICORN HISTORY AWARENESS WEEK!

VISIT GOLDEN OAKS LIBRARY TODAY AND LEARN ABOUT THE LEGENDARY

STAR SWIRL THE BEARDED!

Underneath it was a large picture of Turner's roommate as an old stallion, looking off into the distance with the wisdom of the ages carved on his face, with the same beard and outfit as the purple mare sitting right in front of him.

Turner's memory came back to him one moment at a time, the exam, the magic, the long process of things going horribly wrong, and he felt a sinking feeling forming in the pit of his stomach as he slowly turned around and saw a small town that definitely wasn't Cambridle.

Suddenly, something slammed into his side, knocking him back on the ground, and he looked up into a pair of mismatched eyes just before a bottle of water was shoved in his muzzle, and a mare's voice said “Here, drink this!”

“You should take him to the hospital, just in case,” said the purple mare. “Are you going to be okay, Derpy?”

“I'll take care of him!” Derpy said, and began to float down the street, pulling Turner gently behind her. Not knowing what else to do, Turner let himself be led, staring at everything around him in shock. “Come on, Doctor, let's get you home and get you a nice cup of tea.”

Turner nodded, gulped, and muttered to himself, “Oh Celestia, I'm the Doctor.”

– – –

By the time Star Swirl emerged from the emergency backup building, the street outside was thronged with the assembled students of Cambridle waiting to see what would happen.

The faculty stepped out into the evening moonlight, Princess Luna being the last to emerge from the building, and after a brief huddle Professor Incisive Commentary stepped forward to handle the impromptu press conference duties.

“We, the members of the faculty of the Academy of Magic of Cambridle,” he began, “have just concluded our inquiry into the... incident that befell the Old Hall earlier today.” The crowd held its breath. Star Swirl stood stone-faced a short distance away, watching. Professor Commentary continued, his voice raised. “We have decided that mister Star Swirl is to be expelled from Cambridle, effective immediately. He will vacate the school grounds tonight.”

Star Swirl was expecting this humiliation, followed by the crowd dispersing once the announcement was over. He was not expecting the crowd to erupt in cheers and applause.

The noise was deafening. Ponies burst into spontaneous song and dance as fireworks burst overhead. Banners unfurled from high windows in nearby buildings that read “Farewell Star Swirl,” and “Don't come back”.

Star Swirl began to resolutely march through the crowd, his eyes fixed on the cobblestones in front of him, not meeting anypony's face. The crowd parted to let him pass as he went, until he found himself standing in front of a mare who blocked his path, and when he looked up at her she slapped him hard in the face with a hoof.

Star Swirl looked at her in shock, and was met with another hoof to the stomach. “Where in Tartarus is my coltfriend?!” Ginny demanded, and let loose a flurry of punches on the young unicorn before two mares took hold of her and pulled her off. Star Swirl clambered up on his hooves and, his jaw clenched firmly shut and his head low, galloped through the town as Ginny's curses and condemnations faded in the distance.

He was on the outskirts of town, aiming to run alone into the wilderness, when he heard Luna's voice behind him, saying his name.

He froze up, and stood still, not turning to face her. “I didn't mean it. I didn't mean to do any of it.”

“I know,” Luna said. “It was a terrible accident, nothing more.”

“I didn't want anypony to hate me,” Star Swirl said, straining to keep his voice calm. “I just did the work as well as I could. I never meant to hurt anypony.”

“I'm sorry,” she said, in a heavy voice. “I did everything I could to persuade them to be merciful.”

“I know,” Star Swirl said, his voice choked and thin. “What now?”

Luna walked up beside him and gently placed a wing over his back. “Now we keep going forward,” she said. “Do you still want to help me, Star Swirl?”

He looked up at her. “Of course I do.”

She smiled, and conjured a wet cloth to wipe clean his face. “Colts, always needing help keeping yourselves presentable.” She chuckled as Star Swirl twisted and turned to escape the cloth uncomfortably rubbing his eyes. “There, that's better. Now then,” she began, “I need to return to Everhold. I want you to work your way there, in your own time. I'll be there when you arrive. Is that alright?”

Star Swirl bit his lip, and lowered his head. “I'm not sure anypony in a hundred miles will speak to me.”

Luna put a hoof under his chin and raised it up. “Really? Who's the one who was telling me that he has mastered every spell the school teaches in less than half the time, hm? If nopony else will put faith in you, Star Swirl, then have faith in yourself.”

Star Swirl looked down the road leading away from Cambridle, to the hills and hamlets of Braytannia, in the far-flung north-west of the pony nations, underneath the star-filled sky. They glittered and shimmered, and waited for him. He turned and looked into Luna's eyes. “Do you have faith me, Luna?”

She smiled. “I do, Star Swirl.”

He nodded, and smiled. “Alright then,” he said. “That's good enough for me.”

Interlude: Witness to History.

“There is one,” Princess Luna said to herself, “who sees everything.”

The Princess of the Night sat alone in the Tower of the Turning Skies, and watched the stars intently, her thoughts locked on the Count of the Marches.

She drew a breath, and spoke out loud: “Captain.”

Behind her, a pegasus stallion clad in dark armor stepped forward without a sound, and bowed. “Yes, your highness?”

“I have a mission for you.” With a flicker of magic she conjured a cloud of shimmering smoke, and in the smoke appeared the image of a white-coated, golden-maned stallion with a cutie mark of crossed spears. “Observe, the Margrave Baron Whiteblood.”

The captain nodded.

“The Count of the Marches commands the armies of the Borderland Territories against the Griffons. Every day he taunts and insults and goads them to attack. Every day he lures more ponies to join him. Everything he touches turns to carnage and fear, and our efforts to broker a peace go nowhere.” Princess Luna's voice was cold as ice. “I have looked deep into his dreams of bloodlust and power. His desires are obvious. Yet his simplicity belies the cold strategy of his actions. There is something more than mere bloodlust at work here. Go, and find out what he is hiding.”

– – –

Many centuries ago, a poet who was also a political dissident wrote a poem in which one line read: “Wherever you are, whatever you do, a Shadowbolt is watching you.”

This was not strictly speaking true, though the Shadowbolt who watched her write it was amused. In fact, the Shadowbolts do not watch everything and everyone. They only watch those things worth watching.

The poem never saw the light of day, and as such, Margrave Baron Whiteblood was unaware of it. Had he read it, it is possible that his smile would have been smaller, and his mood less joyous as he rose before the assembled congress of the noble peers of the borderlands to be seen by all. Life was good, it struck him once again, as he ascended the stage of the Whinnyennan Opera House to thunderous applause. The Count of the Marches, the great defender of ponykind from the menace of invasion and the horrors of subjugation, raised his hoof and the assembly fell utterly silent to hear his words.

The speech was the same speech he had delivered a hundred times since the war began, stressing the importance of uniting all ponies in the struggle against an enemy of limitless cruelty and greed, who would never stop threatening ponies until his claws were blunted for good. An enemy who, even now, sent spies, saboteurs, and terrorists to infiltrate the lives of ponies. An enemy who could only be defeated if all ponies stood united and bound together, with loyalty to the rightful ruler, who in turn would protect them.

“The speech was a touch weak tonight, I thought,” the White Knight told him later, after the Baron had accepted the various honors and gifts the nobles had given him, and had retired to dine. “It has become routine.”

“It served its purpose,” the Baron replied. “What else does it matter?”

“At this moment, we are witnessing history unfolding before us,” the White Knight, a tall bulk of pony covered head to hoof in metal armor and white silk that revealed not a hair of his body spoke in a strong, rumbling voice. “What is witnessed, matters more than what is true. My master wishes you to know that if you want to write history, you must ensure that the correct view of things is given precedence... and that those things you do not want to be remembered, go unseen. You understand my meaning?”

The Baron grumbled. “Your master seems to be taking a great interest in what happens here. What is he concerned about now?”

“My master sends his regards, and reports that he is pleased with the progress over the past few years,” the White Knight said. “He wishes you to move the city watchponies away from the warehouses on the riverfront. The attention is interfering with our work of purifying your cities. Ponies might see things you would not want remembered in history. You should also consider hiring a better speechwriter.”

– – –

When the Baron returned to his estate in his carriage, it was to find the garden occupied by a huge crowd of armed and armored pegasus ponies. At his approach, word spread, and a lone pegasus mare emerged from the crowd and approached him. She stood tall and straight, and appraised the Baron with unblinking eagle-like eyes. Beneath her helmet her mane was prismatic, marking her as a rare breed in the highest circles of Cloudsdale society.

“Captain Hurricane and platoon, Royal Everhold Air Force, Fifth Battalion, reporting for duty, Lord,” the uniformed pegasus mare saluted sharply.

“And why, by all the lands of ponies, are you here in my estate?” the Baron demanded.

“Princess Celestia's command, my lord,” Captain Hurricane said, ignoring the hostility in his voice. “In case of a surprise griffon attack, we are to serve as airborne defense and bodyguards.”

“I ordered the REAF to the front line,” the Baron said sharply.

“The REAF takes its orders from the Princess,” Hurricane answered calmly.

The Baron scowled at her. “Fine. Guard the estate, then. But unless and until there is a griffon attack upon me, I do not wish to know you are here. I do not wish to see you. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Baron.” The Baron and his wife turned and entered the mansion. Hurricane cursed them under her breath as she watched them leave, then turned to address her subordinates. “Alright, ponies, listen up! We'll set up our camp on the far side of those trees, out of sight of the mansion. Scouts will maintain a wide airborne perimeter patrol around the mansion at all times, but will not go close unless there's an alert. Is that clear?”

A chorus of “Yes, Captain” met her from her various underlings.

“Then get moving. Dismissed!”

Half an hour later, everything was set up. In a corner of the new camp, a young pegasus whose tags read BRIGHT EYES finished raising her tent. She was a slim, orange-coated mare with a close-cropped purple mane, and her cutie mark showed a cloud on a mountaintop. She was the newest soldier in the battalion, having been reassigned to the Fighting Fifth not one week previously. Her squadmates knew her as cheerful, friendly, and somewhat jittery, and she had been the target of many light-hearted jabs about how she would hold up when the squad finally saw combat. She had borne it all with a smile and a nervous laugh, and now she stepped into her tent, tied the flap closed behind her, and activated the sound ward that ensured nothing that happened within could be heard when she spoke with her superior.

The small glass lens was clear and cold in her hoof. “Night Flight reporting in. I am undetected and in position by the Whiteblood Estate, sir.”

“Excellent,” a slightly distorted stallion's voice spoke through the glass. “Proceed as planned. Keep the estate under observation. Let no-one enter or leave without your knowledge.”

“Yes, sir. Nothing will hide from my eyes.”

“I await further news. By Night, Shadowbolt.”

“By Night, Captain.”

– – –

Somewhere in the city of Whinnyenna, there was a warehouse which nopony ever noticed. Some mornings, wagons came to and left from this warehouse loaded with cargo, same as any other warehouse in the area, all paperwork filled out in accordance with the minutia of Everhold cargo law, and nopony ever noticed anything out of the ordinary.

It would have taken an extremely keen eye, one that knew exactly where to look amid the whirling mercantile activity of the border territories, to notice that the wagons leaving the city would, over the months, carry slightly more with them than had officially been stored in the warehouse beforehand. Meanwhile, his master shrouded the warehouse and their wagons from long-distance scrying with an enchantment of great power, to hide them from the Princess's prying eyes.

If pressed, the White Knight would have to admit he was proud of the setup.

“We have five already this week,” a wheezing, tittering voice said from behind him. “Much ahead of plan! We get gems now?”

The White Knight turned to see the diamond dog grinning and wagging his tail. He nodded, and threw a hooffull of glittering stones at the dog, who leapt up and snatched them in his paws. “Remember the rules,” the White Knight said, his voice deep and stern. “No going back to the same places often. Make no noise. Do not take risks—”

“And leave feathers in the gutter when you go, yes yes,” the dog yipped, and tucked the gems into the pockets of his vest. “No worry. No pony sees a Diamond Dog that doesn't want to be seen.”

The White Knight went up to a particular crate, lifted the lid and looked inside. Five unicorn foals – two colts and three fillies – looked up at him fearfully with tear-stained faces and eyes red from weeping. Their legs were bound together, their muzzled tied shut, and their horns even fitted with magic-suppressing rings. That detail always stuck in his mind: those rings were arguably more valuable than the foals themselves. But, no risk could be permitted, no matter how slim.

He closed the crate again, ignoring the weak sniffles and muffled sobbing from within.

“The drivers will take them away tonight,” he said. “Stay out of sight, as usual. Anything else to report?”

“Ehh...” the diamond dog scratched behind an ear with his hind leg. “Spotter said he saw somepony. On the street. After two of the jobs. Looking around, like.”

“A pony? Was it a pegasus?”

The diamond dog shook his head. “Stick-head. A unicorn.”

Closely as the Diamond Dog watched, the White Knight's helmet betrayed no sign of what this message meant to him. “I see.” He turned and took a step towards the door. “I must get going. Oh, and Gripper? This shipment will last for a while. Lay low for the next few weeks.” Then he stepped out into the midday sunlight and walked away.

– – –

The unicorn was a yellow mare with a red mane and a magnifying glass cutie mark. She had arrived in the city from nowhere in particular for some weeks. By day, she ran a specialized shop out of her apartment, for wares that nopony was ever interested in, and struggled but somehow managed to remain afloat and keep her creditors at bay.

By night, a similar mare trawled the dark alleys of Whinnyenna, searching for things that were not easily found. Sometimes, the thought crossed her mind, it is more easy to be found and than to find.

“Stay still,” a voice called in the darkness. “You are surrounded.”

The unicorn slowly turned her head from side to side, and could barely make out four figures in the shadows. She had heard the flutter of wings a second past, as they fell from the sky in a circle around her. “Can I help you, officer? I'm just heading home from stretching my legs.”

“Clear Glass, alias Spectacles, aka Fine Lens, you are under arrest for high treason.”

The unicorn put on a weak smile. “I suppose it was only a question of time before we made contact. You were fairly quick, I'll grant you.”

“You are a spy in the Griffon King's employ, a traitor to ponykind, and we are imprisoning you,” the leader of the shadowy pegasi said. “This is hardly 'making contact'.”

“Allow me to make a counter-offer,” the unicorn said. “I will trade you information. You let me operate freely, and I will help you take down the Margrave. Our objectives in this city are aligned.”

The shadowbolt snorted. “And what is your objective?”

“I'm after an associate of the Margrave. Let me go after him, and I will help you unravel his entire network.”

The shadowbolts were silent for a moment, before the leader spoke again. “Thank you for your patience, citizen. You may return to your home. We will see you again.”

– – –

Winter. Spring. Summer. Autumn. Winter. Spring. Summer. Autumn.

Once again, it occurred to the Baron that something was not quite right.

Not the Griffon occupation of Stalliongrad. That was fine by him: a nice reminder to the ponies, growing weary after years of war, of the importance of fighting on. Nor was it the occasional would-be griffon spy or assassin who thought to claim his head: they had all met their ends at the hooves of the Fifth Battalion. The steady drumbeat of the Griffon Kingdom's war machine was a marvellous accompaniment for his own rise to the heights of his most hallowed ancestors.

But he had reached a plateau, of sorts, he thought. Each new turning moon brought him less fresh blood, fewer honors, less devotion. Meanwhile, the burdens of leadership never alleviated.

His golden mane, he noted each time he looked in the mirror, was turning gray.

“What is it?” he asked himself. “What is missing...?”

“You face the fog of decadence,” a familiar voice said behind the Baron, and he turned in shock. “In time, complacent minds will grow accustomed to anything. They will lie down and sleep as the house collapses around them.”

“What in Tartarus are you doing here?” the Baron snarled. “I did not send for you. How did you get past the guards?”

“We must speak,” the White Knight said simply. “My master believes we can do better. He wishes us to discuss the situation.”

“Better?” the Baron asked. “Are your plans not proceeding as intended?”

“There have been disturbances,” the White Knight said. “The guards patrolling the streets of your cities appear to have grown more fortunate, if not more skilled. I regret to say it has frustrated our time tables, and my master wishes to see the situation improve... as for you, you appear fatigued, milord Baron. But I have a solution.”

The White Knight stepped up alongside the Baron and they walked from his private office to the dining hall, passing under the portraits of the ancestors. “As I said, weak minds will soon grow accustomed to what they see around them. Their alertness will fade as normality seeps in. If you would continue to reap the rewards of glory, you must continually show them of the perils of their complacency.”

“What else is there to do?” the Baron asked, his voice bitter. “Cities burn. Fields lay barren and abandoned. Foals hide within their homes for fear that beaks will seize them and fly them away if they should dare to show themselves outside. It is not enough.”

“You must show them dishonor and treachery without compare,” the White Knight said. “To fight in open battle on the field of war is honorable. This is what you have taught them for centuries. Now you must teach them that we face an enemy who is beyond honor. You know the Nightingale Hospital?” The Baron nodded. “It holds several hundred wounded pony soldiers who will return to their homes once they are rested enough to travel. Pegasi, whose value for the war effort is spent. None of them will ever fight again. But perhaps they can still be of use for the great work...”

The White Knight produced a vial of a thick, murky fluid and placed it gently on a table. “Think of the damage a griffon attack could cause. Imagine the uproar that would ensue. A hospital, wounded heroes, assaulted. It would live in infamy, forever, as would the names of those who fought against it. And then your triumph would be absolute. Princess Celestia herself would not rest until Mosclaw were torn down stone by stone, the ground burned, salted and stripped of all magic. Imagine it.”

The Baron imagined it. His mouth went dry, and a shudder ran through him as he looked at the vial. “Is this not going too far?”

“You cannot overestimate the value of a good martyr,” the White Knight said. “Think of it. In one grand gesture, you purge the world of some featherheads and instill renewed faith in the mission. All it will take,” he glanced towards the vial, “is one drop of griffon poison.”

The Baron nodded. “I'll do it.”

– – –

An old pegasus stallion, hooded and cloaked, entered the attic of a nondescript house somewhere on the outskirts of the Baron's city. “What do you have for me?”

“This came from Whiteblood Manor,” Night Flight said, and pointed a wing at the vial. “A vial of poison, carried by a discreet courier... but not discreet enough. It was intercepted on its way to Nightingale Hospital.”

The Shadowbolt Captain nodded. “Where did it come from?”

“...We don't know,” Night Flight admitted. “Nopony entered or left the manor the previous day. No packages had been left unaccounted for a long time beforehand. Possibly it had been stored there since before we set up surveillance, or produced on site.”

“Rain Drop,” the Captain said, and a purple earth pony wearing wire-rimmed spectacles and a thick leather apron covered in chemical stains stepped forward, and unrolled a scroll of parchment on the table.

“Preliminary testing suggests the poison is no more than a week old. Also, it is composed of ingredients only common to the Griffon Kingdom, and could probably only be created in a well-equipped alchemical laboratory.”

“There is no such laboratory in the manor,” Night Flight said, and sighed. “We will search for it. If the poison is so fresh, it must be nearby.”

The Captain nodded. “Do so. We will find out where this came from, and put an end to it. But as for the Baron...” He picked up the vial and held it in a hoof. “This is more than enough to condemn him. It is time to tighten the screws.”

– – –

The Baron woke well-rested from a good night's sleep on the day after the event. He had scheduled no meetings for the day, and sat with a mug of dark ale to wait for the flood of horrified citizens delivering news of the atrocity and demanding or imploring that he avenge it.

The morning went on, the sun rising slowly into the sky, with nothing happening.

“Were there any news from the city this morning?” he asked as the noontide passed, and his servants shook their heads.

As the sun slowly sank, and his shadow grew longer behind him, he felt the distinct sensation that something was hiding from him, watching him from where he could not see. Waiting to see how he would react.

– – –

In the city, an earth pony stallion runs the streets by night, glancing nervously around him every other second.

Earlier that night, he was supposed to meet a colleague, and the two of them were supposed to go to an appointed meeting spot. He never appeared.

The week before, a street that was supposed to be abandoned suddenly had a group of city watchponies on either side, and four of them had been taken in for “questioning”.

The night after, their leader had been there in the afternoon, and when midnight rolled around he was nowhere to be seen.

One by one, the earth pony stallion had watched his friends disappear, and now he was leaving the city.

He made it to the bridge when great wings opened above him, and he knew darkness.

– – –

It was a glorious summer day when the White Knight returned to his residence, a fine if small house on the hills of the city which was uninteresting and inconspicuous in every significant way, to find that he had a visitor.

“We meet again at last,” said the unicorn with many names, with murderous satisfaction in her voice as she locked the front door behind her and removed the key. “Now, Sir Knight, turn around and look into the eyes of the pony who kills you.”

The White Knight turned slowly and looked at her from behind the white veil that covered his eyes. Her horn glowed white, with dark brown tendrils snaking through its aura. “Lady Glass, was it?”

A knife blade cut through the silk in the sliver gap between the plates of his armor and pressed against his throat. “This has been many years coming, foul creature. You will pay for every life you've destroyed.”

“My master has a gift...” the White Knight said slowly, keeping his voice calm and still. “He knows what is hidden inside each heart. He knows what every pony, every creature, most fears and most desires.”

Lady Glass chuckled. “Well then, he knows how pleased I will be to watch you bleed out before my eyes.”

“There were six in the fire, but there is a seventh.”

The knife froze. “What?”

“Her name is Rose Petal,” the White Knight said. “I know, you hid her in the Griffon Kingdom to keep her safe, but honestly you should have known better than to trust them. It is a pity you have not seen her since then, she grows very beautiful. So what should we do now?”

There was a loud clatter as the knife blade dropped to the floor.

“Excellent. I knew you'd see things my way.” The White Knight stepped close to the mare, ignoring the empty, despairing look in her eyes. “Now we must discuss the future.”

– – –

The clock was striking twelve noon when Margrave Baron Whiteblood realized someone was standing behind him, and yelped. “What in Tartarus are you doing here? They're always watching!”

“I was not seen,” the White Knight said. “You wished to speak to me.”

“Not now!” The Baron spat. “Not here! This place is not safe!”

The White Knight chuckled. “There is no safe place. Safety is something I carry with me. You need not worry, my lord Baron, nopony knows I am here but you and I. What troubles you?”

The Baron scowled at him, then turned away and looked out the window towards the patch of woodland beside his manor, behind which lay the now years-old REAF camp. “The covert operations have halted.”

“My master has noticed this. He is most curious to know why.”

“Because none of my agents are left, that's why!” The Baron snarled loudly. “They know. Somepony knows, and they have left behind marks. Look.” The Baron threw down a badge, which hit the floor with a metallic clink and spun to a halt by the White Knight's hoof.

The image of a slitted eye looked up at him.

“It means 'we are watching you',” the Baron said. “They have not approached me directly, but the message is clear. They know, and they are tightening the noose around my neck. I require your master's assistance.”

“Indeed?” The White Knight stepped closer. “And what do you have in mind?”

“If I knew what would get them off my back I would do it myself,” the Baron said. “Your master has proven resourceful enough in the past. Tell him to rid my province of these spies.”

“And if he cannot?”

The Baron growled. “I am considering my options.” His voice was cold as ice.

The White Knight sighed. “My lord Baron, my master has given you everything you desired. Wealth. Power. Glory. Such wanton bloodshed as you could only imagine in your wildest dreams. These spies will not bring an end to our bargain.” He stepped aside, to reveal another figure behind him.

The Baron froze up as the knife pierced his ribcage. He looked up in shock at the unicorn mare who had now appeared at the entrance of the room: she shook and trembled as though deathly ill, her teeth visible and clenched shut. Her horn glowed as the knife twisted in his chest.

He coughed blood. “I fail... to see the meaning... of that betrayal...”

“Hush now, Baron,” the White Knight said. “Let your last moments be calm ones. Soon, your name will be immortalized in history.”

“In...deed? Killed by... by my own ally?” He glanced down at the knife. The design of the handle, shaped to be held in three claws, made it clear that it was a griffon blade.

The White Knight turned to the unicorn, and nodded. With a flick of his leg, he revealed a short, broad blade fastened to his right foreleg, and stabbed the mare in the side. Her eyes were closed, and she fell to her side as blood poured from the wound.

“Your servants will have arrived just as she attacked you, and killed her before she could escape. Alas, your wounds will be too grave and you will be beyond saving, and with your last breath you will have implored them to continue the good fight. On this, the witnesses will agree, and that is how it will be written in the history books.” The White Knight said as the Baron fell to the floor. “You cannot overestimate the value of a good martyr.”

The Baron chuckled, blood pouring from his wound and his mouth. His chuckle grew to a choking, wheezing laugh, and finally a coarse, gushing cackle which froze on his face as he died.

The White Knight turned, and left the room without another word, silently composing his next missive to his master in his mind.

Gripper peeked in from outside the room the White Knight walked past.

“Our work here is done,” the White Knight said. “Dismantle the operation and ship out with the final load of the special cargo. We are leaving.”

– – –

It was only weeks later that Blue Horn received a letter in distant Cambridle. The pegasus courier found him sitting comfortably in the common room of one of the major student clubs, smoking a pipe and playing chess against one of the professors, with a small crowd of his admiring fellow students at either side.

“It's from my aunt,” Blue Horn said. “She has never sent me anything as long as I've been here.” He flicked the envelope open and began to read: “To my son... It would appear her mind is fading with her age. Recent events compel me to inform you...” He fell silent as he continued to read, his eyes widening with shock.

He reached the end, then let go of the letter, letting it fall to the floor, and stared at nothing.

“It would appear,” he eventually said, “that I am the new Baron Whiteblood.”

Chapter 7: The Court of Everhold (How Star Swirl Got His Outfit)

There was a knock on the door to Luna's private office. “May I come in, sister?”

“Certainly,” Luna said, not looking up from the parchment in her hooves, a report on the most recent diplomatic envoy to Mosclaw. The door opened and Celestia trotted in, carrying a satchel in her magical grip, and approached Luna's desk. “What is the news?”

“Emerald Gaze's retirement ceremony is approaching,” Celestia said. Luna nodded. The Court Astronomer and, by tradition, advisor to the Princesses on arcane matters was growing old, and had made official her desire to quit the position half a year ago. Celestia dropped the satchel on the table and pulled out a number of scrolls from inside it. “It is time we discussed choosing a replacement for her. I have prepared a selection of highly qualified candidates I'd like you to look at.”

Luna nodded. “That is most gracious of you, sister,” Luna began, speaking somewhat softly, “but it will not be necessary. I have already decided upon a replacement.”

“You have?” Celestia sounded surprised. “Who is it? Sky Wise?”

“No.”

“Far Sight? Dewdrop? Haysaac Apple?”

Luna shook her head. “None of them. Nopony in your selection.”

Celestia frowned, certain that she had picked the best candidates in the land. “Who then?”

“His name is Star Swirl.”

Celestia racked her brain searching for the name, but found nothing. “I cannot say I've heard of him. What are his credentials?”

Luna hesitated, and Celestia immediately gained an idea where this was going. “...Well, he is quite young you see, he does not have a long list of references just yet.”

“Luna...”

“But he is qualified!” Luna proclaimed. “I know him, Tia! He is a magical prodigy. His special talent is to do with magic, and the stars. He was a student at my school in Cambridle, and his understanding of the magical arts flatly exceeded his teachers there. In addition, I've tutored him myself. I fully trust that he will excel in this position.”

Celestia took a deep breath as she gathered her thoughts, then began to speak. “Lulu, please take my advice on this. The ponies I've picked out are all renowned experts in their field. They all have long and accomplished careers, decades of experience. All of them would fit excellently in the royal court. Rather than throw honors and titles at an unknown quantity, we should go with somepony who has already proven themselves.”

“I thank you for your concern, sister,” Luna said cooly, “but I have already made my decision.”

Celestia sighed. “Luna... I respect that naming the Court Astronomer falls within your domain as ruler of the night, but this sounds like raw favoritism. Stop and think about this for a second. These ponies,” she gestured to the scrolls, “are all great astronomers at the peak of their careers, the finest of their profession in all of Ponydom. An appointment to the Royal Court is the highest honor they can receive. If you were to give that to some random stallion who has no great achievements to point to, even if you yourself believe in him, what message are we sending to the court? What message as we sending to our scholars?”

“Must everything be reduced to petty political squabbling?” Luna stomped her hoof on the table. “I am sick of it! Yes, Tia, this is my domain. My choice. I am appointing a personal advisor to myself, nothing else! I have absolutely no desire to give some toady lickspittle courtier a claim on my time as a political favor, nor is my patronage some manner of ultimate career trophy for ponies who clamber over their fellows to the top of the mountain! I have my reasons for picking Star Swirl, and my reasons are the only ones that matter! Because he is going to be working with me! I will not discuss this any further, sister.”

Celestia stared at her, aghast. “...I see,” she said at last, after a long silence. “Very well, I won't try to dissuade you. Can I merely ask a few things about him?”

Luna nodded.

“You said he was a student at your school?”

“He was,” Luna replied curtly. “He is not anymore.”

“He has a teaching position? Or a research position?”

“He has... moved into practical work, straight out of the school.”

“There is something you are not telling me, Lulu. I'd rather you not beat about the bush and just say it.”

Luna sighed. “He did not complete his Magister of Mystic Arts. Through no fault of his own.”

Celestia's jaw dropped. “He didn't even graduate? Luna, how old is he?”

“...Twenty-one.”

Celestia's face contorted in exasperation and brutally repressed anger at the antics of her little sister. Half a minute ticked by in silence before Celestia regained her mask of tranquility and said, “Just one last question. Where is he now?”

– – –

Star Swirl was standing at the crossways in the center of a small village in a forest a few days' trot away from Everhold, and his gaze was fixed on a particular cobblestone. “Yes,” he said, nodding his head. “I'll stay here, I think.”

“You don't want to come inside?” the pony he was talking to, a middle-aged earth pony mare named Foxglove asked him. “We have a spare room made up and ready.”

“No, this will be fine.”

“Would you like something brought out for you to eat, or drink?”

“No, I'll be fine here.”

She nodded. “So you're just... going to sit here in the middle of the road, all night long then?”

Star Swirl nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay, well, if you need anything just let me know,” the mare said uncertainly as she retreated back inside her nearby home, a simple brick building with a thatched roof. Star Swirl did not watch her leave, or look nervously out at him from behind her curtains as the sun slowly set and the sky grew dark.

Star Swirl sat as though sleeping, his eyes closed, not moving a muscle, the ponies of the village giving him strange and sometimes nervous looks as the sun slowly moved across the sky, and eventually set below the horizon.

Many hours still passed as the moon slowly wheeled overhead, until sometime in the middle of the night a gust of freezing wind suddenly blew where previously the night air had been warm and still.

Star Swirl opened his eyes. “Stop.”

No sound was heard except for the young stallion getting up on his hooves. “You're thinking I can't see you in the dark. You're wrong. Come out peacefully, now.”

The night air made no response. Star Swirl pursed his lips. Now you're thinking that I'm bluffing, and trying to scare you off. And you're thinking that you're hungry, and tired, and don't want to go back into the darkness to continue the hunt somewhere else, and that if you see any opening you'll finish this. Star Swirl stood rigid and tense for a few seconds more, then relaxed, exhaling loudly as he turned his head away.

The thing materialized from the empty night air and leapt on him from the side with fangs bared and razor-sharp ridges running down its legs, letting loose a wicked howl like the winter winds on the tallest mountains. Star Swirl turned his head to face it and his horn lit up, and with a single sharp clap the creature fell flat to the ground, struggling to move.

Shimmering tightly all around it with an aura alternately dark and pale, like clouds passing before the moon, was a magical net.

“Everypony come out,” Star Swirl spoke loudly. “It's safe.”

Before long, the street was filled with the grown ponies of the village, their foals looking on anxiously from behind windowcurtains or through the open doors.

The creature in the net looked almost like a pony, but it was a giant thing, stretched out and distorted with long, gangly limbs and a skinny barrel, its ribs clearly outlined through its skin and coat. Its color was white, not a clean white but the white of bleached bone and ashes. Freezing water dripped from it, and a thick mist surrounded it, glowing ghost-like in the light of the moon. Its eyes were small and beady, its teeth were fangs, snapping at the magical web trying to rip free, and its flesh rippled and flowed as it tried to turn back into immaterial form and escape.

“What is that thing?” asked the middle-aged mare who had spoken to Star Swirl earlier.

“A kelpie,” Star Swirl said. “A cold and hungry spirit that lives in deep waters and drowns any who try to approach it. I've been hunting it for weeks now. This thing has been travelling from village to village, preying on foals, feeding on their innate magic to grow stronger. Eventually it would start eating them whole. This is why your daughter fell ill, miss Foxglove, and why all of you have been suffering nightmares the past few nights. It has been eating your dreams, leaving behind its own thoughts and memories in their place.”

Foxglove shuddered. “So how do we get rid of it?”

“Leave it to me,” Star Swirl said, and stepped closer to the captured spirit. Its eyes locked on his with a fearful and vicious stare, which the unicorn met without flinching. “Show me where you came from.” He reached out a hoof and placed it on the creature's forehead, and their minds linked.

Star Swirl saw an image of a mighty wooden ship frozen in ice. The sky above was a whirling blizzard, and the ice tossed and turned amid huge storm waves in the open sea. The ponies on deck ran to and fro in a panic, ragged torn sails whipping uselessly in the wind. One fell from the tall mast into the black water, and never came up. The thing that the kelpie had been took hold of another pony, a huge stallion with long black hair, and leapt overboard into the watery abyss...

All was cold and darkness and death and silence, and waiting. After time beyond reckoning the storm abated, and the kelpie, clinging to the body of its shipmate, drifted far away across the vast and empty sea.

Many days and nights passed, the stallion's body sank and vanished, and the kelpie slowly starved as it drifted on the ocean current, until finally it washed up on the shores of Braytannia. Half-dead, the creature skulked in the shadows of the woods until it found a small village, and a small foal that peered into the shadows and stepped too close...

Star Swirl frowned. He focused his mind and peered deeper. The kelpie was always looking forward. It took what it could and then moved on, didn't try to make a den or nest for itself. It had kept moving south until he had come upon its trail and took up the chase. It was starving, exhausted from constant running, but never thought to stop.

“What are you running from?” Star Swirl asked, and its eyes filled with fear. It shook its head, a sharp and jolting movement. Star Swirl bent his will upon it and peeled away its thoughts until he saw it.

There, in the core of the kelpie's mind, was a little pocket of memories that radiated pain and fear, locked and sealed and buried away.

Star Swirl sighed. “You don't have to share your secrets. I'm not going to hurt you.” Its eyes were pleading now, uncertain. “Just relax... and go to sleep.”

Star Swirl touched the tangled core and sapped it of its power, dissipating it into raw magic that sank down into the ground and became one with the Weave.

At once, the chill around the creature lessened. It ceased struggling against the magical net that held it in place, closed its eyes, and fell still against the ground, as though asleep. The mist poured off it, and blew harmlessly away into the night. Soon, they could see it shrinking down to something the size or an ordinary pony, and then fading into nothing.

“Put a marker of some kind on the spot where it lay,” Star Swirl said to the villagers. “A memorial stone, so that everypony will know that something was here, even if they don't know what. Then it will stay sleeping, and not come back to hurt anyone again.”

Then, Star Swirl turned and walked down the road, leaving the village heading south, towards Everhold.

– – –

When Star Swirl next looked up, he saw the churning, alien sky of the dreamlands. He heard the sound of a pony clearing their throat behind him, and turned to see the Princess behind him. His eyes lit up and a smile blossomed on his face. “Luna! You came!”

Princess Luna smiled back at him. “Hello, Star Swirl. It is good to see you again, it has been some months.” She bent down and grazed his cheek with her own, making him blush. “You are close to Everhold now. Your timing is impeccable. Do you recall what we discussed the last time we spoke?”

“The Royal Astronomer of Everhold is retiring,” Star Swirl recited. “Is that now?”

“It is soon. I can name you to the position once you arrive, if you have no other obligations to attend to first...” Star Swirl shook his head, smiling. “Good. But, Star Swirl, I must tell you...” Here Princess Luna took a deep breath and spoke slowly, picking her words carefully. “When you arrive at Everhold you must be introduced to the Court. My sister has shown some... concern, at my choice of you to become the new Royal Astronomer. Do try to make a good impression, Star Swirl. I suspect a great many courtiers will lament the fact that this position was not bought and paid for, and will resent me for it. There is great solidarity among rats.”

“I see,” Star Swirl said. “Make a good impression, eh?” He scratched his stubbly chin thoughtfully.

“I realize this has not been a major part of your education,” Luna said. “Nonetheless, if you could, I would appreciate it. Just be on your best behavior.” She looked him over. “And perhaps take a bath. I would recommend a new outfit for the occasion, also. On that note,” she levitated over an envelope bearing her wax seal, “There is a tailor in Everhold Town who I am assured is a master at helping ponies look their best. I have taken the liberty of arranging an appointment for you there. Simply show him this letter, and he will help you prepare.”

Star Swirl nodded. “I will,” he said. “I have an adventure to tell you, though, if you have the time.”

“Of course,” Luna said. “I am always glad to hear of what my student has learned. Come, walk with me and tell me the story.”

Luna listened to Star Swirl attentively, interrupting him every few minutes to ask questions for details. “This is most peculiar,” Luna said when Star Swirl finished his tale. “And rather alarming. I've never known a kelpie to behave in this fashion. Commonly they keep to their home pools and feed with discretion, to keep their presence secret and safe. I wonder what could have sent it fleeing as you describe, so far from its home...” She shook her head. “It is unfortunate that you could not learn whence it came from.”

“Is it important?” Star Swirl asked.

“...Perhaps,” Luna answered. “The world grows full of fearful things... But that is a topic for another time. For now, Star Swirl, please be at your best.”

– – –

“Be at your best...” Star Swirl said to himself as he finally, after three years of wandering, walked down the broad and busy stone road to Everhold for the first time, and saw the bustling town below the mighty castle of the Royal Sisters on the hill.

“Make a good impression,” he muttered to himself. “I can't let the Princess down.” He held up the sealed letter, which he had found lying in his satchel upon waking from his dream meeting, and read the address: “Ballroom Boutique, Stirrup Street 8.”

After half an hour of searching, Star Swirl found himself at the right address. In front of him was a bizarre building shaped like a multi-layered cake, its outside decorated with ponyquins in festive gowns and masquerade masks, paired up a though in the middle of a dance, and outside the door hung a sign that read “The Ballroom Boutique Tailoring Shop.”

A bell rang above him as he pushed through the door, and a stallion's voice rang out, “Coming!” Shortly afterwards the stallion, a white-coated unicorn with a styled purple mane and a slim moustache and goatee and a cutie mark showing a needle and scissors, emerged from a back room and met Star Swirl's eyes with a smile. “Welcome to the Ballroom Boutique, purveyor of fantastic fashions,” he said, with an implaceable but immaculately refined accent, and briefly glanced over the younger stallion.

Star Swirl was dressed, as he always was, in a sack-cloth raincoat held together with strips of bark fashioned into crude but workable string, all of it caked in dried mud. Dried mud also covered his legs up to his knees, and his coat otherwise was coarse with grit and sweat, and his mane was a tangled mess, complete with twigs and a few leaves in it.

“There's a place that serves hay fries down the road, and the cheap taverns are all on the east side of town. If you can't afford a tavern you should be outside of the city by nightfall, or the city guardsponies will arrest you for vagrancy. If there are no other questions I'd appreciate it if you moved along, please.”

“I have an appointment,” Star Swirl said, and brought out the letter from his saddlebag. The stallion raised an eyebrow in suspicion, but unfolded the letter and read it. As he read, his look changed from suspicion to outright disbelief, to shock, and finally shaken acceptance. He looked from the letter to Star Swirl and back again. “Good heavens. Well, allow me to introduce myself.” He bowed, more out of style than out of any actual show of respect to Star Swirl, and continued: “I am Exclusive Designs, Elusive to my friends, proprietor of the Ballroom Boutique, tailor and stylist.”

“Pleased to meet you. I'm Star Sw— hey!” Star Swirl noticed a half-second too late that the other stallion had magically untied the knot around his throat and lifted his raincloak off him.

“You need to get rid of this,” Elusive said, and threw it in a garbage bin outside the front door. Then he turned his eyes on Star Swirl. “You need a shower.”

– – –

“You need a manecut,” Elusive said after Star Swirl came out of the shower.

– – –

“You need a shave,” Elusive said after cutting Star Swirl's mane.

– – –

“You need a dash of cologne, a hooficure, a skin peel, and a six-week course in proper posture,” Elusive said after shaving Star Swirl's unevenly-stubbled chin.

“...But that can wait. Right now, you need a suit fit for the Court of Everhold.” With those words Elusive swept Star Swirl into the dressing room and began walking him through an array of suits. “Trust me, old sport, I will find you something that you love.”

– – –

“...So, nothing that you love?” Elusive asked. An hour had passed, and they had looked at every outfit Elusive thought suitable for the younger pony, and after he had run out of those they had looked at every other outfit that was even remotely suitable for the Royal Court. Star Swirl had turned them all down, and had done so with justifications and requirements that were surprisingly dense with the technical terminology of tailoring. When Elusive had questioned him on that point, Star Swirl only shrugged and said that he'd read books, and asked for other styles.

“All the styles and specific things you're asking for went out of fashion many centuries ago,” Elusive would say, and Star Swirl would look at him as though he did not understand if this was good or bad.

Elusive eventually sighed, looked at the clock, and said “I'm afraid we'll have to wrap this up later. I have another client coming in soon, and lots of work that needs to be done.” He pushed the younger stallion to the door. “Look, old sport, why don't you spend the rest of the day seeing the town and try to think of something you like. Come back later this evening and I'll see if I can put something together.”

Then the door slammed shut behind him. Star Swirl took a few tentative steps forward, unsteady after the whirlwind of motion that was each second inside the boutique, and found to his satisfaction that the ground did not wobble under his hooves. Thus bolstered, he trotted off in search of ideas.

– – –

Star Swirl did not really like cities. He had discovered this during his time on the road: once he left Cambridle, he rarely ventured into the larger towns again, but stuck to small villages and forest roads. Sleeping on the road, or indeed not sleeping on the road, and filling his belly and his saddlebags with cheap oats whenever he crossed a small market suited him fine. Cities were noisy, crowded things, where ponies got in your way, pushed you around, and occasionally tried to rob you. At night, in the wild, the darkness served to let the stars show him where to go. In cities, cheap lights made the night a paltry imitation of day that had none of its utility, while also blocking the natural life of the night.

So it was in Everhold town, the largest city Star Swirl had seen up to then, and he quickly found himself bewildered as he wandered aimlessly up and down the streets. He had, he discovered, arrived in the middle of the busiest market hour, and could barely take two steps without somepony shoving past him, trying to sell him something, or just yelling as loud as they could about any number of things Star Swirl didn't care about.

Twice, ponies tried to snatch something out of his saddlebags, only to discover, as Elusive had done earlier, that they held an enchantment which made them respond negatively to attention from somepony other than their owner.

The market in Everhold, Star Swirl quickly concluded, was a much bigger affair than it had been in Cambridle. In addition to the usual food there were crafted goods from, it seemed, all over the world, great works of art and luxuries, potions and unguents that promised health and bliss to those who owned them.

His ear twitched as a particular sound penetrated the maddening noise of the market: the sound of a fiddle playing, shortly followed by a baritone voice with a thick Scoltish accent singing a song Star Swirl immediately recognized from his hometown. The singer was a grizzled old earth pony stallion on a nearby stage, sitting on his haunches on a bale of hay, his head tilted back as he sang and his massive gray beard reaching down to his stomach.

Star Swirl stayed and listened to the song for a few minutes, and stroked his own newly-trimmed chin with a hoof, deep in thought, before he moved on.

A little while later, there was a great burst of light and sound in the distance, and Star Swirl looked up just in time to see an explosion of little lights in the early evening sky, as though for just a second the stars had come out early. Shortly afterwards, another explosion sent another shower of stars falling down over the crowd. Then a trumpet rang out, and a cheerfully ostentatious voice cried out, “Come see the fabulous Barn'm and Hayley's Grand Travelling Circus! Performance begins in twenty minutes! Tickets available here!”

Star Swirl looked at the market clocktower, saw that he had lots of time, shrugged, and nodded, then pushed his way through the crowd towards the ticket salespony.

Half an hour later he was staring in rapt fascination at his first ever circus performance. The show was blazing all around the ring. There were wild animals, bears and lions roaring, jugglers and acrobats and flying tricks. There were unicorns doing spectacular magic tricks, and earth ponies doing sleight of hoof that made the unicorn magic look cheap and tawdry by comparison. But none of that held his attention: he was too busy thinking about the clowns.

There were clowns, too, of all sorts, tall and short, fat and skinny, sad, happy, grumpy, stern, or downright terrifying. Some wore colorful dress and makeup and some were drab, some wore stripes, squares, diamonds and all other variety of straight lines, and some wore circles and spirals and organic patterns that wove and dived and went nowhere. And then there was the one Star Swirl could not stop staring at, one entirely unlike all the others. The one who wore a dark blue costume covered in glittering sequins, like stars in the night sky.

By the time the performance ended Star Swirl was smiling confidently to himself, and once he emerged from the circus tent he made straight for the Ballroom Boutique.

When the performance ended, Star Swirl ran straight for the Ballroom Boutique and knocked insistently on the door. Elusive eventually opened it looking impeccably styled as always, and with a snifter of brandy levitating by his side.

“I need to see what fabrics you have,” Star Swirl said breathlessly and pushed inside. “I have the greatest idea that anypony has ever had. Do you have any sequins?”

– – –

1.

The night began with Star Swirl describing his idea to Elusive as best as he was able: a long robe inscribed with a map of the heavens, in elaboration of the classical styles those worn by the Yeopony of the Night-Time Hours of antiquity, but reflecting his new office of Court Astronomer. To Star Swirl, it was timeless symbolism, the greatest scholarly minds of the ancient past brought forward with new learning from the present.

While Star Swirl spoke, Elusive finished his drink. Afterwards, Elusive stood deep in thought for a few seconds, then nodded slowly, said, “I'm going to need more brandy,” and walked into another room.

2.

Elusive returned to see Star Swirl by the back wall, searching through the stacks of materials. He left the young stallion to it and brought out a ponyquin and a drawing desk for them to work on.

“What's this?” Star Swirl asked amid the rustling of fabrics.

Elusive turned to look. “That? That's just a box of leftover materials. You can use anything you like from there.”

Star Swirl dug deeper, throwing scraps of fabric over his shoulder as he dismissed each one. After a while he heard something jingling. His eyes widened. “What's this?” He pulled out a long band of fabric with a row of small round bells attached.

“Those were for a special order for the old pony's home. Some of their guests have those sewed in their clothes so the attendants will hear if they try to wander off.”

“It's brilliant,” Star Swirl said in a low, reverent voice. “It's perfect. I must have it.”

Elusive took the entire glass in one go and then headed back to the other room. “I'm just going to bring the bottle.”

4.

“It's so large, you see, it makes your head look tiny by comparison,” Elusive slowly explained, gesturing to the drawing board where the design as it currently stood was laid out.

Star Swirl nodded solemnly. “That would look ridiculous.”

“Exactly. So there are two things we can do with that. We can either make your head larger...” Elusive smiled, and gave a waggle of his eyebrows to attempt to indicate how ridiculous the idea was to the impassive youth. “Or we can make the robe smaller, which would also be cheaper and more convenient to wear. Alright? So what do you think?”

“I think,” Star Swirl said slowly, “that it needs a matching hat. A really big hat.”

7.

“Iss this all a prank?” Elusive asked as he filled Star Swirl's glass.

“No prank,” Star Swirl mumbled. “Princess Luna asked me to get a new outfit for Court.”

“I'll finish it,” Elusive said. “S'not that I believe you, mind you. S'just that I can't think of anypony who'd want to prank me.”

Star Swirl took a swig of the liquor and coughed. “Y'saw the letter, right?”

Elusive nodded. “So whass this all about, really? What's this all for?”

Star Swirl thought for a few seconds, then said: “I'm going to be the greatest wizard the world has ever seen. It's destiny.”

Elusive was silent for a few moments. Then he replied: “My dream is to win the heart of the most beautiful mare in the land.”

– – –

“He has arrived in the town,” Luna told her sister as they trotted down a silent corridor of the castle towards the dining hall. “I mean to introduce him to the Court tomorrow. I thought he could take today to see the sights and prepare himself.”

“You are certain I cannot persuade you to reconsider?” Celestia asked. “This colt you've chosen—” Luna shot her sister a scowl at the word 'colt'. Celestia sighed. “This barely-grown stallion you've chosen... Quite beside the fact that he has no actual qualifications for this post, he also has not been vetted by my researchers. His background is a complete mystery to the Royal Guard, he could pose a security risk.”

“Will you just trust me for once, Tia?” Luna asked.

“You make it difficult for me, Lulu, when you choose to dismiss all our traditions and methods, and invite a complete stranger to a seat so close to our throne!”

“He is not a stranger!” Luna said sharply. “I know him, he is my friend and student! Is that not good enough for you? I've known him for many years, since he was just a foal! And I trust him. If you cannot accept that then this conversation is over!” Luna turned away and trotted resolutely down the corridor. Celestia watched her leave, and shook her head sadly.

A thought crossed the elder princess, and she turned and glanced along the corridor in both directions. It was empty, save for a few busts or portraits of various nobleponies of history, and the slim, gray stone columns that could be seen in all parts of the castle just to lend shape and variety to the flat walls. Celestia lit up her magic and pointed it to one dark corner she and her sister had just walked past, and lit a small but dazzling flare.

There was the sound of a grunt from where the flare had gone off. A dark-clad pony calmly emerged from the darkened corner and bowed respectfully to the princess. “Your highness,” he said.

Celestia smiled widely at him. “Good evening, shadowbolt. I should like to ask you a question.”

The shadowbolt stood silent, his eyes shifting gently from side to side. Celestia widened her smile further. “I know right now you are considering how to most diplomatically inform me that you do not take orders from me, but from my sister. I respect that. However, I also trust you to understand and respect that I only desire what is best for Luna, and that I would not ask you to betray her trust in any way, but only wish to ask a few simple questions out of sisterly love and concern.”

The shadowbolt hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded.

“Excellent,” Celestia said. “Now, I know this young Star Swirl is in town. I do not doubt that you have him under close observation. I would greatly appreciate it if you would tell me what he is doing.”

“At this very moment?”

Celestia nodded.

“At this moment, he is staying with the town tailor.”

“They are preparing him to meet the court?”

“At this moment, they are enjoying spirits and discussing mares, your higness.”

– – –

9-17.

Night Flight wondered if this was her punishment for the Whiteblood debacle. A surveillance officer must be prepared to observe all manner of unsavory things, of course. It came with the job. Night Flight had seen many sinister and twisted things from the shadows. But this was on another level entirely.

“She'ss the most beautiful creature I'ved ever laid eyes on,” Elusive said, staring out the window up towards the castle. “Princess Daisy... I knew her when we were just foals, all those years ago. The fact that she was a distantly-removed niece of the Royal Sisters themselves didn't mean anything to me then.” He sniffed. “But we came from different worlds. She was royalty, and I was... but I decided that wasn't going to stop me. I was going to travel all over the world, become the greatest stallion there was, become rich and famous, and win her heart! But...” He drooped over the table, and his voice turned bitter. “When I finally returned home, she had married this hideous old earl with a vast fortune and a family history of a thousand years behind him.”

“You sshould go talk to her,” Star Swirl said, patting Elusive on the shoulder. “Money cn't beat love. I dimnt—I didn't read all the books about love in the university library, but they all agreed on that. she'll fall for you the ffirst time she sees you.”

“You really sshink so?” Elusive asked.

“Yah, absolutely,” Star Swirl nodded excessively, but stopped when he noticed he was getting dizzy. “Y'know, I'm sssure once she shees you she'll remember all the good times you had together and she'll want to spend time with you again... and once she does she'll realize you're so much better than some crusty old earl.”

“Maybe I will,” Elusive said, lights glittering in his eyes.

“Thass the shpirit,” Star Swirl said.

“What about you, old shport?” Elusive said. “Got any special fillies in your sights?”

Star Swirl opened his mouth to speak, but was silent. A lone image appeared in his mind. The full moon looking down upon the earth, beautiful but cold, and distant. ...As if that could ever happen. He shook his head.

Star Swirl looked over at the ponyquin across the room. “Sho what sould we do about this? This thing needsh to be finished by tomorrow...”

“Oh, right,” Elusive turned and glanced at it. “Well, we're pretty far along.”

“It needs something, though,” Star Swirl said, focusing intently to keep from seeing double. “I think it needs more stars.”

“It definitely needs more stars.”

– – –

Star Swirl slowly woke up to a pounding headache, piercing bright light through the western window blinds, and a hoof poking him. He cracked an eye open, clenched it shut, and slowly opened it again to see Elusive looking down at him with tired eyes. “Come on, old sport, time to get up. All the day's gone already.”

Star Swirl looked around to find that he had apparently spent what was left of the night, and much of the ensuing day, sleeping on a couch. He attempted to get up, but only succeded in falling over sideways onto the floor, upon which Elusive gave a weak chuckle. “You might feel an ache in every muscle in your body. That couch is filled with hatred for all living things, I'm afraid.”

Star Swirl got up and surveyed his body. His head was pounding with a furious intensity, but otherwise he seemed to be fine. “I'm used to sleeping on rocks. I'll be alright.” Then he fell flat on his stomach and groaned.

Elusive placed a glass of murky, brownish fluid on the floor in front of Star Swirl. “Here, drink this. My own secret recipe.” Star Swirl sniffed it tentatively. It smelled like the inside of his raincloaks, pungent and primordial, but he obeyed, and within minutes his head was clearing up.

“Better?” Elusive asked. Star Swirl nodded. “Excellent. Come on, I'm afraid we need to see what were the consequences of last night.”

The older stallion led Star Swirl into the work room, where the fruits of their labor rested on a ponyquin in the middle of the room.

Elusive winced. “I'm sorry about this, old sport. Let's go back to the showroom, we can come up with a workable combination of something before you're due if we hurry.”

Star Swirl felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “It's perfect...”

Elusive felt a chill run down his spine. “You actually like it?”

“It's exactly as I pictured it,” Star Swirl muttered. “I need to get to the castle in a hurry. Could you write up a bill for me?”

“Promise me you'll never tell anypony where you got it and it's free.”

– – –

“You can still change your mind,” Celestia said as they descended the wide spiralling staircase from the Tower of the Turning Skies, where the two of them had just ushered in the new night. “We'll inform him in private, quietly cancel the formal announcement, and go back to the selection...”

Does she think I have not thought this through? “No.” It is difficult enough to announce this to a hostile court. Would it kill her to be a little supportive?

Celestia sighed. “You can be so stubborn, little sister.”

Luna frowned. There was a quiet sharpness in her sister's voice that Luna heard only rarely. Celestia had inherited it from their mother: the voice she used not to scold, not to command, but to convey her disappointment. More than any other tool or weapon at their parents' disposal, that tone had succeeded in making her feel embarassed and ashamed, like a useless little child.

“I'll be watching the announcement from one of the upper balconies,” Celestia said. “You can find me in my office when you're done. Take care, Lulu.”

Luna mumbled something under her breath as they headed off in different directions through the side-corridors of the castle, both heading to the throne hall.

As the hour approached ten, Princess Luna presided over a full assembly of the royal court, with Princess Celestia watching from one of the many viewing booths high above. When the hour was just one minute away, Luna saw her sister look to the clock, then turn to meet Luna's eyes with a final pleading face. Luna only scowled in response, and turned away.

“Moving on to the next order of business,” Luna said, rising from the Moon Throne as she spake, and the hall fell silent to listen. “Soon, our Royal Astronomer Emerald Gaze will retire from her post, after many years of faithful service to the two crowns of Everhold. We will have time to honor her exemplary career, and her many great achievements in pursuit of her special talent. For now, however, we must attend to the duty of naming her successor to the title of Royal Astronomer, and Advisor on Arcane Matters to the Princesses of Everhold.”

Every one of the ponies Celestia had recommended were in attendance in the Court, and Luna saw them all glancing towards one another. They knew that the chosen pony knew in advance, and so each knew that him- or herself had not been chosen, but each waited jealously to see who had beaten them. “As Princess of the Night, ruler of the night sky, this position is mine alone to fill. I know there were many exceptional candidates—” Vultures, glory-hounds, and self-inflated nabobs, “—who desired this position, but only one can be chosen. And I have thought long and hard upon the issue, and have made a decision which I know will surprise many here tonight. I have chosen a pony I believe will thrive and serve us most excellently, and I do not doubt once you come to know him you will agree. To fill the position of Royal Astronomer of Everhold, I have chosen – Star Swirl, of Edinspur. Please step forward.”

Trumpeter guardsponies lined along the walls of the hall began to play a salute, but in the crowd Luna's proclamation was met with silence. The great astronomers looked at the Princess with shock, then looked at each other with growing confusion as they realized all of them had been passed over in favor of somepony they had never heard of. But in the larger crowd there was also confusion as they realized nopony was stepping forward. After a while the trumpet fanfare fell silent. Luna glanced side to side nervously. Celestia only sighed and shook her head softly.

Just as an astronomer opened his mouth to raise an objection, the great doors at the bottom of the hall were opened with a clank, and a single young pony marched in looking somewhat annoyed. Every face turned to see him, and jaws dropped across the hall.

“What on earth is he wearing?” whispered one pony.

“Is that three foals wrapped up in a blanket?” whispered another.

“Is this his son come to say he's late?” said a third.

Star Swirl trotted down the hall, the court parting to give him space, and to watch him more clearly. A lanky, skinny unicorn stallion, barely out of his teens, covered in a robe in a cut and color that no half-way fashionable pony would ever look at, much less one elevated to the hallowed Royal Court. The less said about the sequins, the better. The tall pointy hat, like something out of a foal's storybook only emphasized the ensemble's ridiculous quality, and served to draw attention to it from a distance so that its obnoxious presence was harder to ignore. Nor would closing one's eyes and averting one's face in sympathetic shame cover the sound of the score of small bells jingling from the trim of both the robe and hat. There he walked, looking for all the world like he had dressed in decorations pulled off the walls of the astronomy museum.

Celestia shook her head softly. I knew this was going to be a disaster. And now poor Lulu will fall into a funk that will last for weeks, and I'll have to get her out— She glanced at her sister and her internal monologue was cut short.

Luna was grinning like a filly, her eyes huge and full of mirth. In fact – Celestia could clearly see – she was struggling to restrain herself from laughing. Joyous laughter, with no mockery in it. While all the court frowned and spiteful words began to foment, Luna looked at Star Swirl and his robe of her starlit sky, and felt adored.

Star Swirl trotted up to the speaker's podium beneath the heightened thrones, the fanfare still playing, and bowed, first to Luna, then to the assembled court. The fanfare reached its conclusion.

“I, Star Swirl, gladly accept this office.”

– – –

“Did I do alright?” Star Swirl asked uncertainly. “Your highness?”

The court had adjourned, and the two of them were now walking along the private royal wing of the castle side by side.

“Please, Star Swirl, call me Luna. And, you did fine.” They drew to a halt outside of a particular door. “It will take time before the whole court accepts my decision. That is on my head, not yours. But now,” she took a deep breath, “you must be officially introduced to Princess Celestia.”

She knocked on the door to Celestia's private office, and it immediately opened with a touch of magic. The two of them stepped inside, and for the first time in his life Star Swirl saw the Princess of the Day. She was laying on her stomach on a great luxurious cushion, and when she saw them she smiled, and rose.

And rose, and rose, and rose.

Star Swirl's jaw dropped. He had, over years of lessons, grown more or less accustomed to Luna's size. Even now she was taller than him, as tall as the greatest earth pony stallion he had ever seen. Princess Luna was a grand mare.

Princess Celestia was a giant. Over half again as tall and over half again as long as her sister, the Princess of the Sun looked down at Star Swirl as though he were a mewling newborn, and she his disciplinarian.

“Sister, allow me to introduce Star Swirl, the new Royal Astronomer of Everhold. Star Swirl, allow me to introduce my sister, Her Royal Highness Princess Celestia Apollonia Helia, Princess of the Day, Charioteer of the Celestial Fire.”

Celestia smiled warmly, her half-lidded eyes somehow nailing Star Swirl to the floor. “You may address me as Princess Celestia, or Your Highness.” She took a step forward, not averting or lessening her gaze. “I am so very pleased to finally meet you, my sister has told me so much about you. I'm glad that my sister will finally have somepony to talk to.”

“Sister,” Luna said in a low voice, almost a growl.

“Oh, sister, I'm sure honorable Star Swirl can handle himself,” Celestia said with a quick glance to her sister, without breaking her smile. “He is, after all, the Royal Astronomer. Such a title doesn't go to just anypony, after all.”

Star Swirl swallowed, extremely uncomfortably. Luna's lip was twitching as she visible fought to restrain herself from replying.

“Luna, dearest,” Celestia said quite happily, “I should like to have a few words with Star Swirl in private, if you would be so kind.”

Luna gave a soft “Hmph,” and turned away, and left the room.

Star Swirl watched her leave anxiously, and was still looking to the door when he heard Celestia's voice. “So you are Star Swirl.” He turned and looked up into her eyes. Suddenly, he thought he knew how the frogs felt, being dissected by students in Cambridle. “I will speak plainly, young stallion. I attempted to counsel my sister away from giving you this title. You received it, not because of any qualifications you may have, but because for whatever reason my sister has taken a liking to you. More worthy ponies were passed over on your account, and the fine balance of our peerage has been upset as a result, all of which makes me most displeased.”

“Your highness, I—” Star Swirl began before the princess cut him off.

“Do not speak. Listen. My sister has decided to give you a chance greater than most ponies can get in a lifetime. Much as I hope she will not go on to regret her decision, I rather suspect she will. My advice to you, astronomer, is to confine your works to carrying out my sister's requests, to the letter, and otherwise to behave as though you are but the humblest of scribes, and refine yourself to such a point as you might be worthy of the honor time decided to give you too soon. Until then, however, I advise you to do nothing that could in any way impact the running of the land.” She rose up again and turned away, and Star Swirl began to breathe again. “You may leave, astronomer. Good luck.”

– – –

They walked silently together through the corridors for a minute, the only sound that of their hooves striking the stone floor.

“I think it's the sunlight,” Luna eventually said.

“Sorry?”

“I think the reason Celestia is so much larger than me is because she is always in the sun. And I'm... not.” Her voice was uncertain, ever so slightly shaky. “It just gets difficult sometimes.”

Star Swirl nodded slowly.

Luna sighed. “But, we have more important matters to attend to. I'm afraid I can't let you get comfortable in Everhold just yet. Star Swirl, do you remember what I told you at the end of Night-Mare Night, at Cambridle?”

Star Swirl remembered it clearly, and shuddered at the recollection: a premonition of doom from the stars, and a plea to find it and stop it, before it is too late. “I remember it.”

“I have done what I can to attempt to learn more in the years since, although history itself seems to conspire against me, and steals my time,” Luna said as they entered the throne hall, now emptied of all courtiers and attended only by royal guardsponies stationed at each door. “Guards, step outside and seal the doors behind you.” As one, the guards obeyed, and the great hall was entirely empty except for the two of them. “I believe I have gleaned a clue as to what this calamity entails. If you are to help me, Star Swirl, there is something you must learn of our world, and I must extract from you a solemn promise that what I am about to show you will remain a most hallowed secret. Do you swear?”

Star Swirl nodded. “I swear on my life.”

“Words are cheap,” Luna said. “Understand, Star Swirl, that it is only because I have known you since you were a foal that I trust you with this knowledge.”

“There are mysteries in the world that even we immortals do not understand,” Luna began. “There is magic in everything. There is a magic that extends throughout all of Ponykind in its outermost extremes, binding all the different tribes of ponies together. Not just ponies as we know them either, earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns, but others as well. Zebras, buffalo, the crystal ponies, the tall steeds of Saddle Arabia, and perhaps even others we do not know, far beyond the horizon.”

“For some reason—I do not know why, nor, I believe, does Celestia—all the different lands of ponies are bound each to a great force. This force is the source of our kinship, and the integrity of our kingdoms. Everhold's force is called Harmony. The Crystal Empire's is called Love. That of Zebrica, Bounty. There are others.”

“Now observe.” Luna stepped over to the center of the hall, and pressed her hoof down hard on a particular spot. As she did so, the stone beneath them shook, and shifted. The floor began to move, a section clicking out of place, and sliding away, revealing a hidden compartment, and from this compartment rose a great stone pedestal topped with five arms. Each arm held a glowing orb, and a sixth orb rested atop the crown of the pedestal. As it rose up, the pedestal seemed to come to life, and the arms began to slowly spin, while the glowing orbs hummed, radiating immense magical power. As Star Swirl stared at them they shifted between many colors, changing from one color to another, from light to dark, and back again.

“These are the Elements of Harmony,” Luna said quietly, reverently. “They are the most powerful artifacts known to us, and the ultimate foundation for all of Everhold's power. Only my sister and I, working together, can wield them. When their power is channeled, evil is driven back, chaos is banished, and peace is restored. But even when they rest, their magic stretches out across our lands and holds the shadows back.”

“So long as these artifacts remain whole and sound, their magic will keep the world fair and peaceful... But that is not what we see in the world today.” Luna turned a sorrowful, resolute eye on the young stallion. “I believe the magic that was supposed to protect the world, has been broken. The web has grown frail, and foul, evil things that have no place in this world are crawling through, spreading hatred and suffering where they tread.”

“The kelpie...” Star Swirl muttered.

Luna nodded. “If this is true, then somewhere in the world, one or more of these magical artifacts is somehow failing, and it is hidden from our sight. We need to find out why, and how, and where. Like the Elements of Harmony, the other pony nations keep their artifacts as closely guarded secrets of the rulers. I need a pony to travel across the world and investigate them in the flesh. Star Swirl, will you be my agent? Will you search across the world to find out why evil forces are spreading where only peace and joy should reign?”

Star Swirl straightened up, and nodded solemnly. “Where do you want me to go?”

“To Saddle Arabia.”

Author's Note

Part of this chapter was brought to you by the sudden realization that Rarity is a genderswapped, ponified Jay Gatsby.

This chapter was written over a total period of ten consecutive days, which makes it an extremely quick piece of work by Star Swirl's exacting standards. He generally demands that everything be scrutinized and reconsidered ten times over. But I actually thought this chapter went very well, and that never happens. Case in point: the interlude chapter immediately preceding this chapter.

Two milestones have now been reached: with these updates I have uploaded 100 000 words total to FimFiction! And with this update, at around 66k words total on Crown of Night, I have finally reached the mission briefing.
There is probably a lesson of some kind to be learned from this, but I don't know what it is.

Interlude: A story waiting to be told

Canterlot, the present day.

In Canterlot Castle, inside the Library of Magic, there is one special wing where the most powerful and dangerous of spells are stored. This wing is kept locked at all times, and only the Princesses, and the Princess's personal student, are allowed to enter it freely.

“The Star Swirl the Bearded wing,” Celestia said to Twilight Sparkle as she scanned along a bookshelf. “The archmage had a rare combination of attributes: the power to wield the strongest of magics; the knowledge to explore the innermost workings of magical craft; and the foolish courage to perform experiments most ponies would never dare. For good reason.”

Twilight gulped, wondering if some suggestion of disapproval of her own magical work lay buried in her teacher's words. “You mean Star Swirl's work was... unethical?”

“That... is a debate that raged for centuries, Twilight. To tell the truth, I do not know. Illegal, however? Most certainly. But that is a question of diplomacy and legalisms rather than of ethics. Ah, here it is.”

Celestia had opened a large wooden chest in a far corner of the wing, and retrieved a smaller chest from within it. The small chest was made of silvery metal, and its surface was ornately engraved and inscribed with arcane script surrounding the slim keyhole.

The Princess placed it on a nearby writing desk. “Tell me, Twilight, what do you know about Star Swirl's mission in Saddle Arabia?”

“Actually, nothing, Princess,” Twilight admitted. “That is to say, I know that he had one. Clover the Clever mentioned it in her biography of him, but she didn't give any details to speak of. She only said that Star Swirl took what he found there and used it to create the Amniomorphic Spell.”

Princess Celestia nodded. “There is a reason nopony remembers exactly what happened there. It's not a terribly uplifting reason.” Her voice was lower now, tinged with a note of regret. “In hindsight it became clear that Star Swirl's voyage to Saddle Arabia was his first true great triumph, a sign that he was a legend in the making. But at the time, his trip was notable only because it was a diplomatic disaster, a tremendous embarrassment to me and my diplomatic corps.”

Celestia shook her head softly. “I wish I could tell you that when he returned I realized I had been wrong about him, but that would be a lie. Instead I was all too eager that nopony discuss the matter at all and let it lie forgotten, and in Saddle Arabia... well, let's just say that they had far more immediate matters to think about. There was, in the end, just one single written chronicle of what had happened.”

Here Celestia opened the silvery chest and retrieved a small, weathered book from inside it. It was a paperback, cheaply bound, and the image on its front cover was faded almost to the point of inscrutability, but Twilight detected powerful preserving enchantments that had kept it from aging for several centuries at least.

Twilight Sparkle's jaw dropped as she read the title. “The Caves of Maretania: A Star Swirl the Bearded Adventure Book.”

Celestia nodded, with a smile. “A very loose retelling. Clover the Clever was kind enough to give it to me late in her life. This was her own personal copy, and I believe it is the only copy that has survived. At the time, there was a whole series of them, though to be honest, they were rather badly written. But this was the first.”

Chapter 8: Impossible Things, Act One.

Far away from Everhold, in the palace of the Khalif of Saddle Arabia, Prince Mussadas ibn Hassan lay in his bed, dreaming with his eyes open.

In his dream he saw the place the winds had told him about: a garden in the heart of the deep desert, a place of mysteries resolved and pains soothed into oblivion.

He had only been a foal when he first heard the voices, whispering in the desert wind. He had asked his keeper about them, but she, a simple maid, had only looked at him in fright, and had made the sign of the crescent with her hoof, and had told him not to speak of such things.

So, when he was older and heard the voices again, he did not speak of them, but made the sign of the crescent with his hoof, and tried to ignore the fact that as time went on he began to make out the words in the voice.

That morning he had seen birds flying south when they should have flown north.

That midday his water cup had turned red, though no-one had touched it.

That evening the seers had cut open a bird from the palace garden, and consulted its entrails, only to find it had been hollow even as it breathed.

The prince had looked up to the sky and seen the lights, and heard the voice of the desert calling him.

Come to me.

The sun was gone now, and the night sky was frozen above the golden sands.

Your city has no place for you.

“Who are you?” He turned and looked around him. The chamber was empty except for the shadows.

Your kingdom will be buried beneath the sands of the desert.

His mouth filled with the taste of ashes as the voice entered his mind and took his thoughts. He turned from the balcony and walked to the door. There was a place far away, in the deep desert, he knew he had to get to.

I will have back everything your fathers took from me.

This land belongs to the Queen of Golden Sands.

– – –

Impossible Things
Act One: The Caravan.

– – –

After viewing the fellows of my age, I found no true friend who could stand by you at times of need.

I have known then that the impossible matters are three: the ghoul, the phoenix, and a faithful friend.

-The Saddle Arabian poet Kâmel.

– – –

“It's about time you got here. You kept me waiting for ages.”

It was with shaking, unsteady steps that Star Swirl finally trotted down the ramp to the harbor, leaving the Siren behind him.

“Shut up,” Star Swirl muttered, his eyes downcast. “I am never sailing again.”

Then he looked up, and saw the harbor.

It was early morning, and the sun had not yet risen above the city, but even in the pre-dawn shadows the harbor was a hive of whirling, carefully orchestrated chaos. Everywhere Star Swirl looked, ponies of every kind swiftly loaded and offloaded cargo and supplies from the dozen great ships anchored along the mile-long harbor. Beside the ponies were donkeys and mules, and tall, slim ponies who almost looked like the Princesses: the proud horses of Saddle Arabia. Everypony seemed to be decorated with gold and jewels, such as was only worn to special occasions in Braytannia.

While he stared, an earth pony and a unicorn came down the ramp behind him, carrying a crate between them, and shoved him out of the way with a grunt.

The pony who had hailed him chuckled, and Star Swirl focused on him for the first time. He was an earth pony stallion, yellow of coat and brown of mane, wearing a light olive jacket and a white pith helmet, and his cutie mark showed a sealed scroll. “Silver Tongue of the EDC, the Everhold Diplomatic Corps,” he said. “You must be Star Swirl.”

Star Swirl only nodded.

“That ship was supposed to have made port a week ago,” Silver Tongue said. Star Swirl only groaned in response. “What on earth happened? Were you attacked by pirates?”

“No, no,” Star Swirl shook his head. “There was weather trouble.”

“Weather trouble? Didn't you bring pegasi?”

“Feather flu.” Star Swirl shuddered at the memory. Not four days into the voyage the pegasi twins who had signed on as wind-keepers both came down with the sickness, and could not fly. The weathered seamare who captained the Siren had ranted and raved but could not bend the sickness to her will as she would a crew member, and so they had been left at the mercy of the wild winds and waves.

“Wasn't there anything you could do?” the diplomat asked.

“The captain asked, and not nicely. I offered to make the wind visible, so that she could find it more easily. Apparently that was the not the answer she was looking for.”

“Wonderful,” Silver Tongue said. “Well, you're here now, that's what matters. We have already arranged places in the next caravan heading for the capital city, so we'll be heading out soon. Is this your first time in Saddle Arabia?”

Star Swirl nodded.

Silver Tongue grinned. “You have much to see then! This is a land of legends, my friend. The royal city is a sight unlike anything in Braytannia, or any of the lands of ponies.” They left the harbor and wandered up a yellow cobblestone street into the city proper.

Silver Tongue continued speaking as they walked. “Saddle Arabia is called the Crossroads of the World, the place where all the continents meet. Merchants from every nation under the sun come here, bringing with them the most precious goods from their homelands. For centuries, trade has made Saddle Arabia the richest place on earth. If something exists, you can find it here.”

“So I see,” Star Swirl said, glancing around him as they crossed the city. Oftentimes he had to stop himself from staring at things he had never seen before. Through the open door of one dim building he saw a zebra breathing deep of the fumes of some burning herb opposite a Saddle Arabian horse. On one stall in the street he saw a diamond dog swaddled in heavy cloth, dextrous paws performing tricks with cups and balls for the coins of bystanders. The dog eyed them watchfully as they passed, then turned back to her audience. Overhead, a hippogriff joined three pegasi to beat an inland wind to keep the desert from licking at the city, and through a gateway to a tavern courtyard Star Swirl saw a band of minotaur warriors lounging in the shade of an olive tree. They were clad in matching red tunics bearing the mark of some mercenary company, and they had iron helmets with ring-mail hanging like a veil.

Before long they reached the tall stone walls of the city, and passed through a broad gate. The road rose as they left the controlled zone and made for an encampment visible in the distance below the low, early-morning sun.

The caravanserai was by a small oasis only half an hour's cantor away, but by the time they reached it Star Swirl even in the small hours of the morning the desert sun was roasting him alive. Star Swirl was dragging his hooves through the sand, his breath heavy and ragged.

“We've prepared supplies for you here already,” Silver Tongue said, and passed Star Swirl a water-skin of waxed cloth. Star Swirl drank deeply from it. “You're going to have to change outfits. What is that, a deep winter robe?”

“The robe stays on,” Star Swirl said.

“As-salaam alaykom, mon petit cheval de terre Silver Tongue,” a deep voice spoke from nearby. “We were about to leave you behind.”

Star Swirl raised his head to see a bull camel approaching them, as tall as the horses of Saddle Arabia. He wore a turban on his head, his body wrapped in loose-fitting black robes, but his back laden high with supplies he bore as though they were weightless.

“Wa alykom as-slam,” Silver Tongue replied with a bow. “Thank you for your patience, caravan master. We are here now, and ready to travel.”

The camel stepped in a circle around Star Swirl, looking at him from every angle. Star Swirl turned this way and that, as if uncertain if this was an aggressive action. “This is the one you've been waiting for?” He asked, in an Equish wrapped in accents within accents.

Silver Tongue chuckled. “You're thinking about his clothing.” The camel reached out a hoof and nudged the rim of Star Swirl's robe, making the bells jingle. “Yes, well, don't worry, he will come to his senses soon enough. I have an outfit more suited for this climate for him to use.”

“See that you do not slow us down, cheval,” the camel said. “The caravan will leave soon, and the desert is not merciful. Make yourselves ready.” He turned and called out in Saddle Arabian to another nearby camel, who joined them. Like the first, this camel, a cow, was covered up in black.

“Salaam,” she said. “I am Rehalet Amina. My husband is Rehalet Tawyla, master of the caravan. He has asked me to show you how to properly tie your robes.” She looked at the unicorn, and made a sound in her throat that Star Swirl suspected was the sound of a camel fighting not to laugh. “We can make this work.”

The end result was a compromise for both Star Swirl and Silver Tongue. Silver Tongue was unhappy that his style, the finest Everhold's explorer's league had designed, had been rejected, while Star Swirl was unhappy that his robes had been twisted this way and that, loosened in some places and tied down where they had previously been loose. Rehalet Amina also did not like his hat, and had tied him a turban.

She had permitted him, if he was so inclined, to clip the hat to the top of the turban.

The camels were, however, completely satisfied.

Before long, while the morning sun was still young, a horn blew from the far end of the oasis, and the caravan began to move. Star Swirl and Silver Tongue took their place in the lineup, and they left the safety of the oasis and set out across the desert.

– – –

It will get easier, he told himself. You walked through the Scoltish winter. This is the same, only the other way around. Drink lots of water and you'll be fine. He drank until his flask was empty. Well, that was quick.

Before long he began to hear the voices. They whispered in the distance, just over the nearest dune, and try as he might he could not make out the words.

“What's that?” He asked, his voice sluggish and heavy.

Silver Tongue glanced at him. “What?”

“Do you hear that?”

“Just the wind,” the diplomat said. “Try not to speak, you'll lose moisture.”

Star Swirl fell silent, and listened to the whispers. Sometimes they came from one direction, sometimes the other. Sometimes the view was clear in all directions and the whispers came from nowhere at all, and yet were there.

It was as the sun approached its zenith, and pressed down upon Star Swirl with its full might, that he first saw the lights. They clustered by the sun, at first, but did not come from it, and slowly they grew and spread out to cover the sky.

Star Swirl had once seen the Aurora in the heavens above Edinspur when he was a foal, on a midwinter night when the company of his kin and his neighbors had become too depressing to bear. He had believed it to be a display just for him, a silent gesture of encouragement from the stars.

The desert, he now saw, had its own lights, which made the air itself writhe as though consumed by the sun's fire. Great coursing arcs of trapped lightning, giving off spinning whorls of gas that crackled for seconds or minutes, in colors Star Swirl could not name, and then were gone. Star Swirl reached out with his magical senses as they walked, and found himself scenting a tang of burning magic.

There was a secret hidden in that scent, Star Swirl thought, and it whispered to him on the wind, whispers of burning and death and forgotten things that wished to be remembered, and it burned him to listen, and scent it, and touch it too closely.

The sun continued to rise, and the air grew hotter and heavier and threatened to choke him. By the midday hours, the sand beneath him burned his frogs with every step.

Just as it seemed to Star Swirl that the sky would fall, and the coiling lights would ensnare him and burn him to death, the caravan master rang his horn. They halted, and set up tents, and sought shelter from the murderous sun.

The tent helped, Star Swirl admitted in his thoughts. He stood inside and peered cautiously out the flap at the blinding landscape outside.

Silver Tongue had laid out a rug on the sand inside the tent and made himself comfortable. “The missive from Everhold said to escort you to the capital city, and to answer any questions you have about Saddle Arabia on the way.”

“You know this place well?” Star Swirl asked, not turning from the entrance.

“I've been Princess Celestia's ambassador to the Court of the King of Golden Sands for five years now. Nopony knows this land better.”

Star Swirl's eyes reflected the burning sands. “I have one question.”

“Yes?”

“How can anything live like this?” Star Swirl said with a kind of despair.

“Come. Sit.” Silver Tongue patted the chair and Star Swirl grudgingly stepped away from the flap, casting wary glances in the direction of the day.

“It seems strange to want to live in so hostile a landscape, but that is the pride of the nation,” Silver Tongue said. “Once, this desert was an impassable barrier, forbidding contact by land between the continents, cutting us off from Zebrica and Neighsia. To enter it was certain death. Until the House of Golden Sands came here and bent their will against it, and learned to survive everything it could throw at them. They took one of the most forbidding terrains in the world, and turned it into the richest land there is. They owe it all to the fact that nopony else but them were able to tame the desert. And that, my friend, is how they live like this.”

“This desert does not seem very tame to me,” Star Swirl muttered.

Silver Tongue smiled and nodded. “This is only the outermost passage of the desert, where the temperatures are still mild and where the army keeps the routes safe. If you stay here for long, you will come to relish crossings as easy as these.”

“You've been on many of them?”

“Dozens,” Silver Tongue said. “My job is to do what the Princess desires. Princess Celestia desires to brings Saddle Arabia closer to Everhold. I am here to ensure that her wishes are fulfilled. I've traveled to every corner of this land.” He glanced to the unicorn. “What about you? What brings you here?”

– – –

He was alone with Princess Luna Noctis in the throne hall of Everhold, observing the artifacts set upon the many-armed pedestal: six orbs of stone that glowed, even in their slumber, with vast magic power.

“Something festers in Saddle Arabia,” Princess Luna said as she slowly walked around the Elements of Harmony, eying them each in turn. “For all its splendor and its wealth, an unease sits heavy upon the dreams of the state. Its crops suffer. Brigands prey in growing numbers upon the populace. Distrust and fear are spreading. Ill omens are reported across the territory. The King of Golden Sands does not tell us his thoughts – at least not knowingly – but he has called every diviner and soothsayer to his court to tell him what the future holds, and how he may answer it. I fear that something is corrupting the magics that bind our world together. I wish you to investigate, and uncover if my fears are true.”

Star Swirl nodded. “What would you have me do?”

“Somewhere in the heart of the Royal Palace there is a magical artifact of tremendous power. Its precise nature is unknown even to us, but it is the source of the King's power, and his most closely guarded treasure. Your mission, Star Swirl, is to study this artifact, and learn whether the troubles that plague the land are connected to it. If something is corrupting its magic, it would have grave consequences and must be stopped. Your mission is of the utmost secrecy, Star Swirl. Only you and I, and the Captain of my Shadowbolts, know of my misgivings.”

“I will find it,” Star Swirl said. “I won't let you down, Princess.”

“I have faith that you will succeed,” Luna said. “I have arranged for you to join a caravan bound for the Royal City. Go to the King of Golden sands, and learn what you can of the sickness.”

Star Swirl nodded. “I can leave immediately if that is what you wish.”

“One more thing, Star Swirl,” Luna said, and glanced at him with a slightest hint of doubt. “I know you are not a trained diplomat but remember that you are a servant of the Crown on a mission to a foreign power. Please be on your best behavior. If all goes well, and those you meet have good things to say about you, it will help prove your merit to my sister and the court. It would be helpful to me personally. Just something to keep in mind, yes?”

“Yes, your highness.”

– – –

“Princess Luna sent me here on a fact-finding mission,” Star Swirl said. “I am bound by an oath of silence as to the details.”

The caravan waited for some hours while the sun was at its strongest. Star Swirl ate and listened with as much attention as he could muster while Silver Tongue plied him with trade numbers and trivia about Saddle Arabian economic and agricultural history. In the afternoon the wind turned and carried in milder air from the coast, and to Star Swirl's regret the horn rang to signal that it was time to carry on. In minutes the tents were all collapsed and packed away, the camels and horses were loaded up with their cargo, and the line had reformed.

Star Swirl still walked hesitantly and uncertainly on the blazing, shifting sands, slowly baking under his robes. But as the sun sank rapidly behind him, Star Swirl realized the temperature was plummeting. In half an hour, the hateful heat had turned to a mild breeze.

Something else drew his attention away from the heat. As the desert grew dark, a new night sky revealed itself to him, and Star Swirl's mouth fell open as he stared.

Star Swirl had always felt more at home in the night. This night he was far from home, and the starlit sky of Saddle Arabia seemed to want to remind him of that fact. The stars appeared, not as the glimmering pinpricks of light he was accustomed to, but as flashes of raging fire, intent on dominating their corner of the sky and outshining all others. They seemed to fight each other for his attention, by force or more cunning means. Some flared, growing brighter and brighter until at their strongest they seemed like little full moons in many different colors that cast their palette upon the empty void between the lights, overshadowing their neighbors for a few minutes before fading again while others took their place. Others flickered and pulsed in tune with a dozen siblings, an orchestra of light playing a melody of eons and boundless space. Comets leapt across the firmament, their light reflecting off everything they touched, sending the stars to tingle like the bells on the rim of his robe.

All of it was just for him. They were looking at him, he knew it. All of them seemed to speak to him personally, whispering tantalizing hints of secrets seen at the dawn of time, of knowledge no pony or camel or horse had ever known.

The dry, crisp air was more clear than anything he had seen since the coldest midwinter night on Llamrei's Seat, and when he looked up at the stars he felt like he had left the earth far behind, had set out to wander across the universe, that every star, every distant planet, every nebula and shooting lump of rock and ice was there for the taking if he but wanted to set out. They called to him, and he raised a hoof gingerly to touch them.

He realized the temperature had plummeted. His breath was forming frost on his muzzle.

Here is something new, a voice said in his head.

Star Swirl shook his head to clear away the fog from his thoughts, and glanced around. He frowned. Was that me?

Silver Tongue prodded his shoulder, drawing him out of his thoughts. The earth pony gestured to the center of the camp where all the travelers were gathering. “Come on, they're all coming together. We should join them.” He trotted away, and gestured for Star Swirl to follow.

Reluctantly, the unicorn cast one last look at the heavens before turning away and following his companion.

The caravan had set up their tens in a ring around a central theater, where the travelers sat together and talked around a light-fire fashioned by Rehalet Tawyla, the Bedouin caravan master: Star Swirl watched the scraps of firewood blaze brighter than their small measure would have suggested. Before long the chatter silenced and they all listened attentively to the caravan master speak at length.

“What's he saying?” Star Swirl asked.

Silver Tongue gestured for him to be quiet, and whispered, “He is telling a story. Very traditional. Very Saddle Arabia.”

“It is the story of Makhloub Al-Sarya, the quick-witted jackal cub,” said Rehalet Amina, the caravan master's mate. She sat down beside them. “Makhloub was a thief living in the shadows of the capital city. He knew no home other than the alleys, and no friends but the homeless and the poor. He stole to survive, until one day he tried to rob a powerful sorcerer, and was captured. The sorcerer sold Makhloub into slavery, and he was put in chains and dragged in a cage across the deep desert. When the caravan was attacked by bandits, Makhloub talked them into setting him free. He told them he wanted to join their band, but once his chains were off he escaped. He traveled across the world and had many adventures, and eventually won a kingdom of his own. How are you enduring the desert, petit licorn?”

“With some difficulty,” Star Swirl admitted. “I will be fine. Don't worry about me.”

“If there is anything you need, speak to me or my husband. We know the desert as well as our own kin, and you are safe in our company.” She rose again and communicated without speech by a glance to her mate. “Rest well, petit chevals, and heed not the voices.”

Star Swirl raised his head but she was already walking away.

After the storytelling was done the travelers returned to their tents to sleep.

Star Swirl could not sleep. He did not know what to think about anything around him. So he took his recourse in the only familiar things he had.

Silver Tongue was preparing to sleep when he caught sight of Star Swirl's magical aura glowing on his saddlebag. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I'm reading,” Star Swirl said.

“How are you reading?” the earth pony asked. “You don't have a book.”

Star Swirl unbuckled his saddlebag and brought out the book. “From the Everhold Castle library. I'm just making sure to keep it safe, and I don't need to open it to read it.” The book was a thick tome bound in felt, its pages painted gold along the edges, and the cover read The Farthest Bounds of Thought.

“It's a compendium of great mysteries of magic, things that we know but still can't explain,” Star Swirl said.

“Like what?”

Star Swirl flipped the book opened and looked inside. “The Self-Levitation Problem, for instance. A large portion of the unicorn population can lift mass equal to their body-weight with magic. So why do unicorns still die from falling off cliffs? For that matter, why don't unicorns just fly everywhere, like pegasi? Well, we can't, because when we levitate something we only move it in relation to our own anchored point. And yet, we know that self-levitation is possible, because infant unicorns who don't know that it's impossible have been seen to do it. Nopony has ever been able to figure out how.”

“Well, if you're going to be reading, I have some books for you,” Silver Tongue said. He flipped open his saddlebags to reveal a selection of tomes. Star Swirl read the titles embossed in golden ink on their spines: Economic History of the Saddle Arabian Federation, Vol. I; The Golden Heart: Saddle-Arabian Art and Architecture; Rise of the House of Golden Sands.

“My own work,” Silver Tongue said proudly. “All excellent introductions for newcomers to the country.”

Star Swirl brought up Rise of House of Golden Sands and flipped it open. On the title page he saw a family portrait of the royal family: the Khalif, his wife, and their son, all looking mirthlessly and impassively out at the observer. “Looks... fascinating,” he said, and put it away.

At the bottom of the bag Star Swirl saw a fourth volume, slimmer and less richly bound than the others. “What's that one?”

“That?” Silver Tongue flipped it over as an afterthought. “Something my old assistant worked on, before he returned to Everhold. It's nothing much. Just a collection of old pony tales.”

Star Swirl picked it up and flipped to the title page. “Whispers in the Wind: The Magic and Myths of Saddle Arabia.”

“Hardly rigorous scholarship,” Silver Tongue said. “But an amusing diversion.”

In the end, sleep came, and Star Swirl dreamed of darkness beneath the dunes, and of something silently watching him from the distance. He turned this way and that, trying to catch sight of it, but wherever he looked was empty and still. The night sky was empty of stars and moon, and the sand shifted beneath his hooves, as though he were standing on a living thing, like a flea in a pony's coat. He was awoken by the caravan master's horn, and ate his traveler's biscuit in silence before they set out again.

As before the lights and the whispers on the wind returned. They bore into Star Swirl's head, and his skull pounded like hammers were beating on him. He distracted himself by looking at the fellow caravan members.

Something was different today, Star Swirl noticed. There was a wary quality in the manner of the camels and horses of the caravan. The caravan had not previously been a train of laughter and friendly company, at least not while they walked, but now it more resembled a company of warriors than a merchant company.

Star Swirl caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. On the crest of a nearby dune something watched the caravan. There was a flash of fangs beneath a hood that blended perfectly with the sands, and then it was gone.

Rehalet Tawyla, Star Swirl noticed, had a spiked collar fastened around his neck, which ran down the center of his back and along his hump. At his side hung a saber with a handle made for mouth-grip. The other camels also had weapons he had not spotted before.

“Say nothing, petit cheval,” he said only as he went past.

Star Swirl turned to Silver Tongue, who shook his head sadly. “These trade routes are supposed to be watched over by the Khalif's soldiers,” he whispered. “They are supposed to be safe! But don't worry. The guides know what to do.”

They continued walking in this fashion for a while, and sometimes Star Swirl thought he heard something shifting along the dunes, but when he turned to see he found nothing.

The master blew his horn, and from far ahead they heard another horn blow in response. The horns rang back in forth, an exchange Star Swirl could not understand, but soon, through the haze of the blistering heat, they saw another caravan approaching. Once they met, both horns rang out the signal to rest.

Quickly the camel guides began to raise a different tent, broad and open for the whole crowd to sit together communally. Soon it was up, and every member of the caravan took shelter and rest from the killing heat of day. In the center of the tent the leaders of both caravans came together to exchange greetings and news from their travels, while the rest either rested or mingled with their counterparts.

Star Swirl watched the leaders from a distance, a heated discussion where both bull camels said things which seemed to shock the other, of which Star Swirl could not understand a word. After an hour they seemed to be done, and both returned to their own companions.

“Are there problems, caravan master?” Silver Tongue asked the Bedouin. “I hope nothing that causes more delays for the caravan.”

“My cousin and I were sharing news,” Rehalet Tawyla said. “Things are troubled deeper inland, and he warned us of many omens.”

“Omens?” Star Swirl asked the camel. “What omens?”

“My cousin tells me that in his hometown, a goat gave birth to a five-legged kid,” the Bedouin said. “They say that at night, the river runs red, and in their dreams the desert sands consume them. The oneiromancers warn that great calamity approaches. There are other signs. But that is not the worst of it. There is dire news from the capital city. Not more than a week ago the Khalif's firstborn son fell to the sarāb.”

Silver Tongue was taken aback. “The Prince?” The caravan master nodded.

“Sarab?” Star Swirl looked up. “What's that?”

“We do not speak of it,” the caravan master said, and as he spoke he drew a crescent sigil in the sand with his hoof. “Not in this place, lest it come when called. This is an ill omen beyond my reckoning. Heed not the desert whispers, petit chevals.”

Ill omens, Star Swirl thought to himself. This must be what Luna suspected. Could this be what happens when the magic wellspring of the nation becomes poisoned? Could this happen to Everhold?

They returned to their tents, Silver Tongue anxious and deep in thought. “So what is 'sarab'?” Star Swirl asked.

“It's... a superstition of these desert dwellers,” Silver Tongue said. “Forget that. That is not important. What's important is that the prince of Saddle Arabia has disappeared.”

Star Swirl froze. “Disappeared?”

“From the very heart of the royal city! This could be utterly disastrous. I need to find out what happened immediately, but we will not be there for several days. What might this mean for our diplomatic relations...”

Silver Tongue would not speak much after that, but spent his time deep in thought and locked in anxiety until once again the time came to move on.

The caravan was silent and grim for the rest of that day, so much so that even Star Swirl could not help but notice it. He would ask for water, and a camel would pass it to him without either the encouragement or snide remarks he had grown accustomed to. The sun seemed hotter and stronger than ever as they scaled dunes that seemed to grow taller and taller the deeper they penetrated into the desert. Star Swirl saw no jackals, but could not shake the feeling that he was being watched, and overhead the sky burned trails and pathways that no-one but Star Swirl seemed to notice, or was willing to acknowledge.

Star Swirl tried to hail the caravan master, but the camel cut him off. “Tomorrow we will reach a grand oasis and caravanserai. We may speak freely there, where the desert cannot listen.” The Bedouin would say no more, but moved up to check that the rest of the caravan was in order.

In the end the sun once again relented and sank, and Star Swirl was still alive. The tents were raised without joy, and there was no gathering or telling of stories that night.

That was fine by Star Swirl. He waited by the flap of his tent, Silver Tongue lost in restless sleep behind him, and watched for the lights.

Like the night before, the stars came as a vision unlike any sky Star Swirl had seen in the lands of ponies. The night sky had always been his friend, but here he saw an alien sky unlike any Princess Luna had ever shown him, at once troubling him and yet promising him secrets and discoveries if he would only listen.

He was in a land he did not know, where the very ground beneath his hooves defied him, at the mercy of traveling companions he did not know who led him along a path of fire and death. But as he looked up at different stars and the moon that seemed somehow farther away, he heard the voice of the desert calling to him.

The voice promised him answers to questions he had not known to ask. It promised revelation and fulfillment. He was reminded of ancient poems of love he had read at Cambridle, in which a poet praised the object of their affection as a force of nature. The students there had always felt those old poems were more ridiculous than anything else, but now he thought he could understand where they came from.

Star Swirl stood in the opening of his tent and studied them intently. His lips moved as he repeated the sounds to himself, tasting the magic on his tongue, a burnt flavor like coffee turned to scent and sound and memory through his horn. The heat had dulled, he felt, and his mind was clearer now than when they had been walking, and he could almost understand it. If he could just see it more clearly, he knew, the desert would offer up all its secrets to him.

Come with me, creature of horn and shadow. Come with me and become one.

He felt a hoof pressing on his shoulder, and turned to see Rehalet Tawyla looking down at him. “What?” he croaked.

“Where do you think you are going, petit licorn?”

“Going?” Star Swirl looked down, and saw his hooves sunk to the fetlocks in the golden sands, deep trails running behind them. They were alone on top of a dune, his tent at the edge of the caravan left hundreds of yards behind them.

Full awareness of his weakness hit him every way at once. What had been a rich and deep taste turned to ashes in his mouth, charred and consumed and lifeless. Cold sweat poured off him beneath his robe, his legs were shaky and aching, his mouth was as open and dry as his surroundings, and his head felt like it was going to explode.

The voice beckoned him onwards from beyond the dunes, and he looked after it to see, but gentle yet firm touches guided him back to his tent, where Silver Tongue paced anxiously back and forth. He cried out at the sight of the unicorn.

“You may thank the bells,” Rehalet Amina said as Silver Tongue gently poured water from his flask into Star Swirl's mouth. “If not for them, you would have been lost. The sands were quickly covering all trace of your path. You must keep a better eye on your kinsman, petit cheval de terre.”

“What happened to you?” Silver Tongue asked.

“There were... voices, in the desert,” Star Swirl said. “What was that?”

“You faced sarāb, petit licorn, the vision of the desert,” she said. “It calls out to the unwary, luring them from safety, into the wilds. Did you not warn him?” She looked to Silver Tongue, who shook his head.

“He's not my kinsman,” Star Swirl said. “And I had barely met him before we set out.”

Rehalet Tawyla shook his head. “For the sarāb to strike at night is unknown to my memories, or the memories of my mothers,” the Bedouin said. “It is the day's heat in sight of the sun's madness that robs travelers of their reason. More than the desert's evil is at work, if the sarāb can come upon us in the cool of night. This is an omen most foul, biting at the tail of all the others we have heard of today. Something terrible approaches...” The caravan master turned a suspicious glance on Star Swirl. “You tread dangerously, cheval licorn. See that you do not rouse forces you cannot conquer.”

– – –

The sun was still lurking beneath the horizon when the horn rang the waking call, a throbbing discordant note in the dry, dead air, and the caravan rose without a word. Star Swirl looked up at the last dying degrees of darkness on the western horizon, the sand whipping against his face in a sharp breeze that gave no relief.

It soon became clear to him that the third day would be the hottest yet. From the moment the sun showed above the dunes, the heat was overpowering, and grew stronger and stronger with each passing step. No-one spoke while they marched. The only sound was the whispering of the wind, the soft shuffle of hooves in shifting sands, and the faint tinkling of bells. In the distance, the wind carried the sand into the air and blocked their vision. Minute by minute the cloud drew nearer, until it was as a wall of golden mist hovering straight ahead of them.

Ahead of him Star Swirl heard the caravan master giving out orders he could not understand, and the underlings left at a canter ahead of the caravan, heading towards the cloud of sand. Soon they were gone from his sight.

Rehalet Amina was nearby, and Star Swirl trotted up alongside her. “Those camels your husband sent ahead. Are they scouting?”

“Our destination is not far ahead now,” she replied. “You cannot see it through the wind, but before the hour is out we will be at the great oasis of Nafwura Thahabi. It is a place of safety and binding, well-warded by many signs to keep evil intentions at bay. My husband sent the young guides to let them know we are coming, and prepare food and water. There we can rest and feast in safety, and you may ask all your questions without fear of what is listening.”

Mere moments later she fell silent, her eyes wide in alarm. A horn rang from up ahead, a note of warning rather than rest, and the line halted, every horse, camel and pony looking anxiously and silently around them.

Suddenly, one of the camel guides came galloping back through the biting sandstorm, crying out in Saddle Arabian.

Beside them, Rehalet Amina gasped and whispered something to herself, sounding like a prayer. “What is it?” Star Swirl turned to Silver Tongue, whose face was now pale and his eyes wide with horror. “What's he saying?”

“The caravanserai and the oasis up ahead,” Silver Tongue began. “He says... he says it has been destroyed. He says all those within are dead, their bodies dumped in the water. He says...” He gulped. “He says his companion stayed there to search for survivors but—”

He was interrupted by another cry as the other guide came running. This time the cry was a single word, repeated over and over, which struck fear into everyone around them. Though he did not speak a word of Saddle Arabian, Star Swirl managed to make it out:

“Ghûl.”

Rehalet Tawyla rang his horn three times, an urgent blast of regimental discipline. “Remain calm!” he commanded. “Guides and guards to the front of the caravan, ready your weapons! Travelers, turn in place, jettison all cargo but your food and water, and march out! Amina, stay with the travelers!”

In spite of his orders, Star Swirl already saw the cohesion of the line disintegrate, as half the travelers abandoned their place to run madly away from whatever waited ahead.

He made a decision. Moving against the tide of bodies, Star Swirl galloped towards the oasis.

“Star Swirl!” Silver Tongue cried. “Stop! What are you doing?”

“Fact-finding!” Star Swirl called back.

“You know not what you face!” the caravan master shouted as Star Swirl ran past. “He will kill you!”

Star Swirl grunted through gritted teeth, “He may try.”

The sand whipped and bit his face as he ran, but he ignored it. Ahead of him through the biting golden cloud he saw the ravaged caravanserai.

It was a scene of utter destruction and death such as Star Swirl had never seen, and his mind fell silent as he struggled to take it in.

Dead horses and camels lay fallen on the ground, their bodies half-covered in sand stained with their dried blood. There was a wide building of red brick, its wooden interior set ablaze, smoke churning within. There were great tents buried in the sand outside, only their supporting poles still visible, canvas hanging ragged and torn from their tips.

Great palm trees had been ripped up from the sand and tossed aside. The water of the oasis, a great pool once surrounded by greenery that Star Swirl could now only barely see under the thick whipping cloud, was red and grimy, choked with sand and yes, dead horses and camels floating on the surface.

Standing in the middle of the devastation was a single figure, a stallion steed of Saddle Arabia, tall and slim like the Princess, black robes flapping in the beating wind. His fetlocks were hung with golden rings. He turned, and faced Star Swirl in silence.

Star Swirl gasped. The stallion's eyes were a solid red, and stared back at the unicorn as though he stared across the border between life and death. There was no emotion, no thought, no trace of will or agency in his face.

Star Swirl knew that face. He saw the line of his muzzle, the thin line of his dark beard, the gold rings in his ears and around his ankles. Though he was unsure if the creature in front of him could still be called a horse, Star Swirl realized he had seen him before. He was in a portrait in one of Silver Tongue's books: the prince of Saddle Arabia, the firstborn son of the King of Golden Sands.

The prince opened his mouth and Star Swirl heard a voice, though the voice could not have come naturally from that slight frame. The voice was a tremor in the bedrock, a rolling thunder and the hissing of the sands.

The voice of the desert spoke through him, and the desert obeyed his call. The winds turned against Star Swirl, raised the dunes in the air and brought them down upon him.

Star Swirl ran to the side and raised his magic in a barrier as the sand smashed against him. The spot he had just been standing exploded as the desert tried to crush him. A million grains beat against his shield like tiny golems, but they could not penetrate it.

Star Swirl reached out with his magic to grip the horse and bring it to its knees, but when he made contact he recoiled. He felt the power coursing through the creature. It was made of burning magic, blackened, charred, choking and bitter and hateful, bereft of life.

The taste of it stung Star Swirl like poison on his tongue, and he lost contact. When Star Swirl opened his eyes again he was surrounded by the storm, blinded by the sands, and the creature was hidden. He reached out again with his magic to find him, and the scent of him was everywhere around him.

It was the vengeance of the desert given form, and let loose to reclaim what the horses and the camels had sought to tame.

The dunes rose, and crashed down upon Star Swirl, and buried him beneath the burning sands. The air burned his lungs, and all was darkness.

His sense of direction failed him, and he did not know which way was up or down. The heat and the pressure and the weight was unbearable, threatening to crush him, make him burst.

He pushed a sliver of magic outward in random directions until he found the surface, a trickle of slightly-less searing air and a hint of light peeking in.

His thoughts grew heavy and dull, his horn aching with exertion as he pushed everything into holding his bubble of air open. With the last of his strength he wove a binding to hold the reed-thin passage to the surface open.

Star Swirl closed his eyes and all thought left him.

Author's Note

To any actual Arabs reading this: I apologize for mangling your language.

Chapter 9: Impossible Things, Act Two.

In a somber chamber high above the city, Khalif Hassan al-Rashid, King of Saddle Arabia, watched as the commander of his armies marked a map of the desert. “Well?”

“We have sent divisions to scour the desert between the city and every nearby oasis, but there is still no sign of the prince,” the general said. “We have moving legions from the coast further inland to cover more ground, but in doing so we expose the coastal regions to bandit attacks... Great King, reports are coming in of more ghûl sightings across the country. If we meet them in the desert, on their terms, the outcome could be...”

The conclusion lingered in the air long after his words fell silent.

The Khalif glared at the map as if he could frighten it into giving up the desert's secrets. “Do it. Keep looking. Find my son. And bring him back.”

“Yes, my king.” The general bowed, and left. The next horse in line, an elderly mare clad all in fine white silk, came forward.

“High Priestess of the Temple, I have commanded the soothsayers to perform readings every morning. What do they have to say?”

“My king, we have studied the signs and made our readings by every means available to us, and they all warn of great peril and dire circumstance. This is not the time for any great enterprise. You should ward yourself, and wait for better tidings.”

The Khalif closed his eyes and maintained his regal poise while fury boiled up inside of him.

“To wait,” he said, enunciating each sound as if by speaking they would be carved in stone, “is a luxury we cannot afford. Never before in the history of my house have the temple's readings spoken such despair for so long! If all you can tell me is that I am doomed to fail, then I see no reason to listen to you any further. Get back to your temple and watch for more hopeful days!”

The priestess was quickly ushered out of the chamber while the Khalif remained, staring down at the map until the shadow of great wings fell on him.

He looked up into the face of his Grand Vizier. “What news do you bring?”

“My king, I have spread word of your command far and wide,” the Vizier said, her voice rich and full of amusements and cruelties. “The sages are coming from all over the world to win your favor.”

“Thank the waters,” the Khalif muttered. “I swear upon my House that if any of them can solve this riddle, they shall have anything they can ask of me.”

“You should not be so quick to swear so,” the Vizier whispered from behind his ear. “They will want you to give up the seat of your power if you will let them.”

“It will be worth any price they ask, if they can help me,” the Khalif said, without a waver or hint of uncertainty.

“We will see,” the Vizier replied, and was gone, leaving behind only a shadow and a gust that made even the Khalif shiver.

He rose from his seat and looked out the tall arched windows from high up in his palace, out upon his city and the desert beyond.

He felt the desert looking back at him.

“You are mighty,” he said. “But I will not be easily beaten.”

“Even if you take my son, I will not bow to the Queen of Golden Sands.”

– – –

Impossible Things
Act Two: The Game of Ways.

– – –

Time passed in darkness.

Star Swirl could not tell how long he spent buried beneath the desert, slipping in and out of consciousness, barely able to move in a tiny bubble of burning air with only a straw-thin passage to the surface to keep from suffocating.

In the end, his dreams of death and disgrace were interrupted by the pressure of something small and sharp poking at his shield. He heard a tiny scrape and crinkle, the sound of individual grains of sand shifting against each other. In the deathly silence, surrounded by magic and with a splitting headache that magnified every sound a thousandfold, Star Swirl became keenly aware that something was crawling down the thin passage towards him.

Careful not to weaken the bubble, he shifted just enough magic to light his tomb and looked up into eight black eyes of different sizes. Mandibles glistening with a film of venom twitched, and its long legs tensed, ready to leap and bite at the slightest hint of aggression.

Star Swirl held his breath and sat entirely still while the spider studied him. After a few tense moments it seemed to come to a decision, and withdrew into the passage.

Shortly afterward he sensed movement above, the sands shifting, the weight lessening above him, and finally hooves broke through, and sunlight blinding him as hooves took hold of him and pulled him loose from his grave.

The sand poured off him. He hacked and coughed violently, and spat dirty phlegm which dried out in a second on the sand. His throat burned and he was vaguely surprised not to see blood where his spit had landed.

Someone pressed a water bottle to his muzzle. He grabbed it in his magic and drank deeply, then coughed again.

“You are lucky to be alive, petit licorn,” Rehalet Tawyla said in his heavily-accented Equish. “But if you continue like this you will not remain alive for long.”

Star Swirl cautiously looked up, squinting, his eyes still accustomed to the dark. “What happened?”

“Do not speak. You are injured and thirsting—”

“What happened?” Star Swirl stared down the camel, and after a moment the Bedouin nodded.

“The ghûl attacked us, as the caravan fell apart. Many were wounded... A few perished.” His head hung low. “Once satisfied, it disappeared as swiftly as it had come. Le petit cheval de terre... Your kinsman was among the fallen. I am sorry.”

Star Swirl looked away in silence. Nearby, the survivors of the caravan had raised tents where they were tending to the injured. Further away an elderly camel directed three horses in retrieving and laying out the slain.

Star Swirl caught sight of Silver Tongue's motionless body laying on a rug, and felt sick. “What happened to him?”

“The ghûl buried him, as he attempted to bury you.”

Star Swirl nodded, his eyes fixed on the sand at his hooves. He knew nothing about Silver Tongue. Did he have a family? I never thought to ask. He must, surely... They must be told. The Princesses must be told. But how can I get word to them?

“I need to get to the capital city,” Star Swirl said. “And his body has to be returned to Everhold,” Star Swirl said.

“The caravan will go nowhere,” Rehalet Tawyla said. “There is much work to be done, and it will take time.”

Star Swirl looked down at himself. His coat was matted with sand and sweat, his legs shaking and uncertain. His robe, still only a few weeks old, was filthy and torn. His hat looked like it had been trampled, and several of the bells had been ripped off in the duel.

“You can thank alhzal for your life, petit licorn. She is the one who found you, and told us where to dig.” The camel pointed a two-toed foot at a figure moving among the injured that Star Swirl had not noticed. The figure was covered from head to tail in a cloak made of some fine shimmering fabric, very unlike anything worn in the caravan. Only her muzzle could be seen sticking out from her hood: white coat, with a black strip just visible on its side.

Star Swirl allowed himself to be led away from the scene to a tent. “Sit in the shade and drink water, petit licorn. My wife will check on you once she is able. I must arrange the rites of eternity for the fallen.”

– – –

Star Swirl kept to himself, silent and deep in thought, only watching as the crew of the caravan stolidly tended to the wounded, and arranged the fallen for burial. When the sun set, and the heat finally faded, every living soul gathered together and listened as Rehalet Tawyla performed the ceremonies.

First there was a speech, and then Rehalet Amina led the survivors in song. All of it was in Saddle Arabian, and Star Swirl waited in solemn silence, finding no meaning in the sounds, other than a tone of solemnity, and perhaps a reassurance that the travelers desperately needed. Star Swirl cast glances at the other survivors while he listened. They sat not only in sorrow but in fear, unsure if they would live to see another sunset.

“The oasis caravanserai are sacred places, guarded by powerful wards and fierce protectors,” a female voice said in his ear, quiet enough not to disturb the ceremony. He turned to see the cloaked figure from before sitting beside him. Only the side of her muzzle poked out from her low hood, and a few strands of her long, pale silver mane.

“To break with hospitality is the greatest sacrilege of their traditions,” she continued. “None of these Bedouin would have thought to challenge even their most hated enemies in this place. If this can happen here, then nothing is safe.”

Star Swirl nodded, watching her intently. She turned to face him, and he drew a sharp breath. Strands of a spider's web clung to the opening of her hood, reflecting yellow firelight on its threads. He could not see her eyes, but he felt her looking at him. He shivered, feeling as though he were being not just watched, but opened up, taken apart, and judged.

There was a question there.

“I am Womeluki,” she said, before Star Swirl had asked. “But these Bedouin know me as alhzal. Well met, Star Swirl of Everhold.”

Star Swirl felt his tongue around the unfamiliar syllables, and frowned. “I'm not sure I can repeat that.”

She chuckled, and Star Swirl thought he saw something small moving underneath her hood, though her head remained motionless. “It means 'weaver'.” She glanced to the assembled crowd. “We should not interrupt them. Let's step away.”

Star Swirl nodded. They left the camp and climbed to the top of the nearby dune. From there Star Swirl could see the ruined oasis, the burnt-out remains of the caravanserai, and the empty desert beneath the blazing sun.

Star Swirl cleared his throat. “The caravan master said that you saved my life. Thank you.”

She halted, as though surprised. “I was only doing my duty. I cannot leave a life in danger where I can help it.”

Star Swirl nodded. “Well then... what did you want from me?”

“I have questions about the attack,” she said. “You faced the ghûl head-on, did you not? What did you see?”

“Not much,” Star Swirl said, measuring his words slowly. “It was a horse, but... consumed by something poisonous, and corrupt. It was like it controlled the desert itself, and its eyes were like orbs of blood.”

“Can you tell me anything else? Did it say anything?”

He shook his head.

“Did you see where it went?” she asked. “Did it leave anything behind, any mark or sigil? Any clue where it was going, or where it came from? Anything at all?”

Star Swirl only shook his head.

She muttered a curse under her breath and kicked at the sand. “Then the trail has gone cold. Damnation.”

“I'm sorry,” Star Swirl said. “I tried to fight it, but it blinded me... and buried me. By the time they dug me out it was long gone.”

Star Swirl saw only a faint image of her face frowning beneath her hood, a piercing yellow eye looking at him through the center of a silk web. “You tried to fight it? It's a miracle you survived.”

Star Swirl grimaced at the memory of his defeat. “I was trying to help the caravan.”

“That was very brave of you,” she said, “and also very foolish, and very lucky. You should return to your homeland and leave the fighting to the warriors, young one.”

He frowned. “I'm a wizard! I've fought monsters before. That thing just...” He shook his head. “It was new to me. I couldn't prepare against it.”

“You charged headlong to an enemy you did not know, in a land you do not understand,” she said. “What did you think would happen?”

“I thought I could help! I thought I could do something!” Star Swirl yelled. “Ever since I set a hoof on this land I've only been a burden and I hate it!”

“Hmm...” she murmured to herself as she thought. “Your desire to do good is commendable, but you have much to learn, young one.”

Star Swirl saw a spider crawl from the corner of her hood across her neck and into her mane before disappearing from sight. She did not seem to notice.

“What do you care?” Star Swirl asked. “I answered your question, now answer mine. This is not your land. Who are you and why are you here?”

She stared at him for a moment, then turned away to look up at the sky. “I followed a dream,” she said. “The Great Spinner showed me a vision. A great darkness rising in the heart of the desert, and casting down destruction upon the Crossroads of the World... Something terrible is coming to Saddle Arabia. I have come here in search of the source of the upheaval... and perhaps, if destiny is willing, to prevent it, and protect my people.”

“Your people?” Star Swirl asked. “You're a long way from Zebrica. What does Saddle Arabia matter to you?”

“The desert wind blows, and the savannah burns,” she recited. “We have a long and troubled history together. When chaos strikes here, Zebrica always suffers for it. I came to this land guided by the signs of the Great Spinner. He led me deep into the desert, and it was there I came upon the trail of the ghûl. I followed it until I came upon your caravan.” She shook her head sadly. “I only wish I had come sooner. I have been following that creature's trail for days.”

“You call it a ghoul,” Star Swirl said, spitting the word bitterly. “But that was no undead carrion-eater. What exactly was that thing?”

“Ghûl,” the zebra said. “A servant of the power that once ruled this desert. An evil out of ancient myth, wielding dark and forbidden magics. That creature was a regular horse once, a citizen of Saddle Arabia. It was taken by the darkness, or else offered itself up to it freely, in exchange for power. Once the ghûl was thought to exist only in legend. Now they walk freely in the wilds and destroy everything they touch.”

She turned and looked out to the horizon. “I would have followed it further, but I am a healer before a warrior, and I could not leave while there were lives here to save. The trail is gone, now, and I cannot follow it any further.” She sighed and shook her head. “I can only think that somehow, for some reason, the Great Spinner must have wanted me to see this.”

While she spoke a pale, thin spider crawled out from under her hood and spun a web across the opening. She peered at Star Swirl through it, her eyes concealed so that Star Swirl was not sure if she focused her sight on him or on the web. “There, I've answered your question. You are right: I am far from my home. You are farther from yours. What do you want here, star-born one?”

Star Swirl spoke slowly. “There is something evil unfolding in this land. I am here to find out what it is, and set it right.” He looked around at the desert dunes surrounding them, anger and bitterness in his voice. “Ever since I set my hooves off the ship I've been struggling just to breathe. My colleague was just killed, and I couldn't save him. I have a mission from the Princess of the Night. I am not going to disappoint her. I am going to show them all what I can do.”

“The moon has sent a star to search the earth for answers.” The zebra grinned and chuckled, a dark and rich sound. “It has the sound of myth, does it not? But there is something about you, unicorn. Perhaps this is what the Great Spinner wished for me to see. You tried to fight the ghûl. You should be dead, and beyond my power to heal. My companions can see into the hearts of ponies as easily as horses, and camels, and many other things besides,” the zebra said slowly. “Yet they do not know you, star-born one. I look upon you and there is something within that I cannot see. You have potential, that much is clear, but what will you be...?”

“Who are you, who can command spiders?” he asked.

“A kindred spirit, perhaps,” she answered. “I ask you honestly: what are you going to do?”

They watched each other silently for a moment, each gauging the other, before Star Swirl spoke. “My mission is inside the royal palace,” he said. “There is something I didn't tell you about the attack. That ghoul was the Khalif's son, the prince of Saddle Arabia. Whatever is happening in this land has reached into the capital city itself. I need to get there.”

“Ill omens cover this land,” she said, nodding. “Word has reached my ears that the Khalif has promised great rewards to anyone who can interpret them correctly, and help him find a safe path through the dangers. From far and wide, great sages travel to the capital city to try to win his favor.”

Star Swirl looked up at the sky. “I can do that.”

“Even so, you cannot get there now. Your caravan is broken, and will go no further.”

“Then I'll go alone,” Star Swirl said.

“You do not know the way. Even if you did, the power that rules the desert will surely fall upon you when you are alone.”

“You walked through this desert alone,” Star Swirl said. “You must know the way. Lead me. I'll follow you.”

She studied him thoughtfully. “I am blessed by the Great Spinner. I walk without shelter and with no more supplies than I can carry. The heat and the thirst would kill you.”

Star Swirl smiled, as an idea came to mind. “Don't underestimate me.”

He stepped out from the shadows of the tent and felt the full weight of the heat pressing down on him. He closed his eyes and reached out with his mind to feel the Weave, the magic of the desert. It wasn't subtle or difficult to find: it was everywhere around him, in the air, in the sand, running through the gaping holes of the ruined building that had, until so recently, been warded against it.

Star Swirl looked at the broken wards more closely, and he smiled. The wards on the doors and windows of the caravanserai building were shattered, but enough of their form remained that Star Swirl could tell their purpose. He took one last drink from his water bottle, then he stripped out of his robes and his hat and spread them on the ground before him.

“I have tasted death in this desert magic,” he said as he began to weave threads of magic into the seams of his robe. “I know how it feels, and I can show it to my garb... and teach it to say yes, and no.”

As the wards took form, the burning magic of the desert pushed against them, but could not break through. He stood up and placed his pointy hat securely on his head, and fastened the robe's collar around his neck.

The effect was immediate: a soft comfortable breeze seemed to flow over him beneath his robe, holding the crushing heat at bay. The sweat on his brow chilled beneath the brim of his hat.

He looked up at the shimmering horizon beneath a blazing sky. Already he could feel his strength returning, and his mind filling with new ideas. “It's a beginning,” he said, with a satisfied smile. “I'm ready when you are.”

They set out, side by side, into the desert.

– – –

What is this?

For days they walked together through the heat haze of the Golden Sands, alone in a land where no innocent creature abandons the safety of numbers.

The sun rose and fell upon them again, but its rays no longer bit Star Swirl as they had done before. By day they walked, following a path Star Swirl could not see, the zebra guided by signs only she could detect.

“Do not look upon the midday lights,” Womeluki told him as they rested in the hottest hours. “The sarāb will cloud your eyes and steal inside your mind, and try to lead you astray.”

“I know,” Star Swirl said. “But it's not the day that worries me.”

By night they worked.

When the sun relented, the unicorn sat down to examine his robes, and experiment with the enchanted bindings and the wards he had woven into the fabric. The night spoke to him, a song of temptation and promises, an alluring dance of madness that concealed a whisper in the wind, the voice of the desert.

Two little equines who think they can cross this land?

Every night he found some new improvement, which made the made the forces of the land around him both clearer, and less powerful. Every day the blazing heat of the desert sun found him harder to reach, and his strength carried him further and left him stronger still.

I can see what you are doing with your little magics. It will not save you.

“We are being watched,” Star Swirl whispered to his companion, and she nodded.

“Oh yes. Always.”

You amuse me, little unicorn. You will make an entertaining toy.

While he worked, the zebra spent her nights speaking to herself, or to other creatures than the unicorn, and listening to answers which the unicorn could not hear. At each dusk, the zebra would halt, not knowing where to go, and at each dawn she would pick a course with full confidence.

Try as you might, you cannot hide from me.

“You said you were tracking the ghoul that attacked us,” Star Swirl said to his companion. “Are there any nearby? Can you tell?”

She nodded. “There is something in the distance, wandering... seeking whatever it is they seek. They do not seem to be closing in around us. Even so, I am leading us on a wide path to avoid them.”

“Perhaps,” Star Swirl muttered. “Or perhaps they are letting us be.”

You will all be mine in the end.

After three more days of travel they rose above a dune to see Fuors Althahabi, the Lady of Gold, the capital city of Saddle Arabia far ahead in the distance, golden and jeweled rooftops glittering like the waters of a fountain. It grew as they walked, and Star Swirl expected them to reach it soon.

Instead it just kept growing, until it seemed to cover a third of the horizon.

In the middle of the desert, where no pony of Braytannia would have believed that anything could grow, there rose a city that dwarfed Everhold and Cambridle, a testament to life in the heart of the desert. What Star Swirl had taken for the spires of the royal palace, the tallest points of the city, revealed themselves to be a multitude of towers scattered across the skyline, white and pristine, flags flying from each point in a wind that promised respite from the heat of day.

Beneath the skyline a massive stone wall held the dunes at bay, and the two of them made for the massive main gate. It stood open before them, and though manned by horses in golden barding, they were ushered in unquestioned, and welcomed to the city. Even from outside the walls Star Swirl had heard the sounds of a great market from within, and as they entered the noise surrounded and overwhelmed him.

Once again Star Swirl was reminded that he did not really like cities. The marketplace was like the busy hour of Everhold times a hundred, a great crashing throng of noise and bodies.

There were no settlements outside the great wall that kept the desert at bay, Star Swirl remembered. So, he reasoned, every creature that wished to work or trade in the city had to find room inside. In spite of its great size, with great wealth came great demand, and the city had quickly filled to bursting and then just kept filling and filling and filling.

Everything a pony could possibly wish for was for sale somewhere in the labyrinthine bazaar that seemed to stretch on across the city. Everywhere the bodies parted for a moment showed Star Swirl glimpses of tantalizing treasures hawked by grizzled merchants, wrinkled or bearded and adorned with silver and jewels that spoke of voyages to yet more distant lands.

Star Swirl all but had to force himself not to stare in dumb shock at the bizarre array of commodities as well as the creatures selling them. The majority were horses, with several camels and zebras, but there were so many others, all mingling and bartering and haggling and arguing without a care for size or shape. By one stand, a tiny earth pony mare held her own against a hippopotamus. It must have been twenty times the size of the pony, but in their heated discussion – haggling over a length of silver chain – that seemed not to matter.

The zebra cut a path straight to the center of the square, where a huge fountain poured fresh water through troughs and pipes that led across the market. She drank deeply and filled her water skin, and prodded Star Swirl to do the same.

“We need to get to the royal palace,” Star Swirl shouted to be heard above the crowd. “I have no business out here.”

The zebra nodded, and led Star Swirl through the market and down a long and broad street lined with palm trees. In the distance before them lay the royal palace. It dominated the city skyline, a massive domed tower citadel that seemed to be built entirely of gold and jewels, and polished stone in iridescent colors.

To Star Swirl's relief the crowds thinned out as they left the market and made their way up the street towards the heart of the city. The Saddle Arabians had constructed a hill within their walls, a high ground to escape the squalid depths of the city, and guarded gateways to bar the way. Star Swirl found he only had to show his diplomatic papers and he would be granted entry: Princess Luna's royal seal displayed prominently, in silver, brought them inside the gates of the royal palace itself.

A young clerk in the colorful suit of a civil servant soon arrived to lead them through the palace, and Star Swirl once again found himself disoriented by splendor as he was dragged swiftly through one luxurious chamber filled with dignitaries and nobles after another.

There were guards everywhere here, weapons displayed prominently: most were horses, but every creature Star Swirl had seen were represented in their ranks. By one gate, a hippogriff, sleek and elegant, stood side by side with a rhinoceros. The mountainous grey creature was clad in rich and elaborate dress, like the ceremonial wear of a monastic order of warriors, and its turban alone was larger than the unicorn's body, and hung with ornamental silver chains.

Before long they found themselves in a grand petition hall where a throng of citizens clamored to be heard, and when Star Swirl saw the figure at the center of attention his eyes widened. “What is that?”

The tall golden throne of Saddle Arabia was empty, the Khalif nowhere to be seen. Another figure stood beneath the dais in his absence, and it was to her that all the pleas were directed. It was a giant creature, not entirely unlike a griffon. It had a lion's body and the wings of a great eagle but its face was strange and somehow entrancing: the face of a she-ape, hairless and bare of skin, watchful and cunning, as joyous and cruel as a cat. It smiled through crimson lips, showing row upon row of long, needle-like fangs, and it caught the pleas of the petitioners and dispensed with them ruthlessly.

“The Sphinx,” the zebra whispered darkly in Star Swirl's ear. “She is the Grand Vizier, first councilor to the Khalif. Be wary of her. She is ageless and cunning, and all that would have the Khalif's ear must get past her.”

“The Sphinx is still alive?” Star Swirl muttered in awe. “I've read the legends. She must be thousands of years old.”

“My people have had dealings with her before,” the zebra whispered harshly. “She is a creature of her word, and her word is poison.”

They passed by the edge of the hall, and as they left Star Swirl thought he felt the creature's eyes burning at the back of his head.

They were led deep into the palace, high above the ground floor, through great gardens and halls hung with countless treasures and works of great art and craft, bearing testament to the vast riches of the House of Golden Sands. After much climbing, and more twists and turns through the labyrinthine passages of the palace than Star Swirl could count, they were shown into a dim and pleasantly chill antechamber.

“This is the Hall of Reception. You may rest here, and refresh yourselves until you are summoned,” the palace clerk said in Equish, then bowed and left them to take in the sight.

The Hall of Reception was a lavish resting place where a number of other visitors lounged beside tables filled with exotic fruits and fine wines, sitting on great pillows so soft that Star Swirl imagined this is how pegasi felt sitting on clouds. Incense burned in jars, filling the hall with a sweetness and a smoke that blurred the edges of vision.

“You must tread carefully here, unicorn,” Womeluki said. “One miss-step can spell disaster.”

“I know my mission.”

“You should know so much more! The Sphinx will-” But before she could say anymore a door opened at the far end of the chamber, and she fell silent. From beyond the door Star Swirl heard an authoritative voice speaking in Saddle Arabian, and the guard replied quietly. Another command from within, and the guard nodded and glanced in their direction, and said something.

“The Khalif will see me,” Womeluki said. “I will be back soon. Stay here.” And she was gone, leaving Star Swirl alone.

Star Swirl set his eyes on an enormous platter of fruits in the center of the room, and remembered his hunger from the long voyage. He lifted a grape with his magic and crushed it between his teeth, relishing the taste of it, plump and juicy, as he became aware of the others in the chamber. They were watching the newcomers intently, and he could all but see the wheels moving in their minds, pondering what the unicorn and the zebra's presence here meant for their own plans and chances. It did not take much for Star Swirl to realize that these were the sages from distant lands, like him, come to offer their wisdom in hopes of winning the favor of the Khalif.

He straightened his posture and glanced over the room, seeing them all. They were scattered across the Hall of Reception, clearly no more comfortable with each other than they were with Star Swirl. There was not a pony among them. Some were alone, and some were in the groups.

There were three creatures of a kind, deep in discussion, whispering amongst themselves. They looked like sheep, but taller, with long necks, and they were clad in saffron robes.

There was something not entirely unlike a diamond dog sitting by itself on a cushion, elaborate patterns painted up and down the length of its body. It hummed softly to itself, seemingly lost in its own world as it ran a paw over a slate, painting an image of a serpent in all the colors of the rainbow.

There was a griffon there, along with a bodyguard. The sage was a male, old and skinny and sharp, his coat of feathers thin. The guard was a female, young and muscular, tense as a coiled spring. They both cast wary looks the unicorn's way.

There was an elephant, vast and wrinkled with the experience of old age, studying a great scroll supported on its trunk, peering out from behind crystal spectacles. And in the final corner...

In the final corner Star Swirl saw a dragon, lying stretched out on a cushion. Its scaly wings stretched idly as it puffed on a hookah with something that was not a claw, but simply ended bluntly, like a hoof.

Star Swirl blinked and looked again. His eyes did not deceive him: it was a dragon in the shape of a horse, or possibly a great pegasus with shimmering red dragon scales in place of a coat, and when it faced him he saw reflected in its eyes the legends of a bygone age and distant lands.

All of them were older than he. Some of them were, like the Sphinx or even the Princesses themselves, set above the mortal races by birth. To them, Star Swirl realized, he must seem like a petty nothing.

It was not long before the door opened again and Womeluki was shown out, her hood pulled even lower upon her face. “What did you tell him?” Star Swirl asked.

“Nothing he wanted to hear,” she replied. “His path is dark, and the Great Spinner has no answer for him. Perhaps there is none. I do not know. But the Great Spinner cares not for the Khalif's favors.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“I have forsworn material concerns,” Womeluki said. “These horses have no interest in the world of spirits. Their power lies in commerce. They have nothing to offer me but coins. But their coins will not save them, or my people.”

“I have no idea what I'm doing here,” Star Swirl admitted, with a whisper. “But they have something I need besides coins. I have to win the Khalif's favor.”

“Then you must tell them something that none of these others could,” the zebra said. “Be careful, unicorn, and do not get dragged into politics. It is not your strength.”

The door to the inner chamber opened again, and the guard stepped out and said, in halting, clumsy Equish, “The Khalif will see the unicorn.”

“Trust in yourself, and be watchful,” Womeluki concluded, speaking so quietly that Star Swirl could barely hear her as he followed the guard.

Soon Star Swirl found himself in a somber and silent meeting chamber. Oil lamps burned, casting a dim glow that did not reach the high ceiling, and the walls were hung with draperies and portraits of old kings and champions glaring down humorlessly at anyone who looked at them.

Ahead, behind a massive desk ornately carved from wood that must have been imported from half the world away, stood the Khalif of Saddle Arabia, Hassan al-Rashid, the King of Golden Sands. Star Swirl saw his silhouette against the tall, vaulted windows, looking out at his city. He was calm, and stark, and regal in his kingly vestments: a rich scarlet dress, a pristine white turban adorned with a lone peacock's feather above a cool blue gemstone.

“Greetings, ambassador, and welcome to our home,” he said in flawless Equish, stepping forward into the dim light of the oil lamps. His face was severe but handsome, slender and sharp, brown-coated and with a slim black beard, and his eyes were a deep, dark brown. “We are always pleased to hear from our dear friend Princess Celestia.”

His words were cordial, but there was a heaviness behind them. Star Swirl bowed deeply, hesitantly. “Thank you for your hospitality, Khalif. But, to tell the truth, I'm not an ambassador, and I come with a message not from Celestia, but from Princess Luna.”

The Khalif raised an eyebrow at this. “Indeed? What does the Princess of the Night wish to say that her sister cannot?”

“I have two messages,” Star Swirl said. “Firstly, I must regretfully deliver a trade proposal. Regretfully because the pony who should have delivered it could not. We were attacked while traveling through the desert. My colleague the ambassador... was killed. I humbly request that his work receives your majesty's full consideration.”

Star Swirl brought out Silver Tongue's satchel, containing the drafted trade proposal, and held it out for the Khalif.

The Khalif looked at him dispassionately, weighing the unicorn with his eyes. “I am most saddened to learn of the death of Silver Tongue. He was an honorable pony, and a dutiful and obedient servant. We will give the matter all the honors his memory deserves. What is your second message?”

“I have traveled through the desert to come here,” Star Swirl said. “I have heard of your troubles, and I have seen the sorrow that spreads across your land. For the sake of Princess Luna Noctis, I want to offer my services and see if I can help you navigate these dire times.”

The Khalif watched him thoughtfully, his face not betraying his feelings. “You will have heard that my son has disappeared, succumbed to the sarāb,” the Khalif said. “My son was strong and righteous, and destined for greatness. Instead, the madness of the desert has reached here, into my home, and imperiled my own family.”

Star Swirl nodded. “Not only that, but I have more evil news to tell. I have seen your son.” Here the Khalif's eyes widened. “He was the one who attacked the caravan and killed the ambassador. He has become a ghoul.”

At those words the Khalif seemed to lose all his strength. Before Star Swirl's eyes, he seemed to gain thirty years in a moment, and his head fell low. “Then my worst fears have come to pass, and nothing you can say or do will make it better.”

“Give me the chance, please,” Star Swirl said. “I can see things others can't. Please, tell me about these omens.”

The Khalif sat in silence for a long while, his head hung low, locked in introspective contemplation. Then he spoke, and his smooth, strong voice rang through the chamber with notes of dignified resignation. “In a dream, I saw my first wife, dead these past ten years, the mother of my son. She was beautiful. She came to me and embraced me, but her touch was as the wind in the desert, sand whipping upon my coat, and when I opened my eyes I saw only dry bones.”

“When I woke that morning I called for my soothsayers to perform readings, and for the guards to scour the city and hear what news from the land. My scryers foretold only sadness, and my guards brought back tales of ill omens, of springs dried up and winds turning and sorrow in childbirth, and all manner of upheaval in nature.

“For many years, our power has continued to grow, and our reach stretches ever further across the dunes. We laid down peace. We opened roads. We founded settlements and let life blossom where nothing before us could live! But there is a power in this desert, young unicorn, that was here before the first horse and that has sworn to outlive us all. She holds my throne in contempt, and she has now declared open war upon us, angered that we have tamed 'her' land.

“I have asked every sage of my court to interpret these omens, and all of them have given me the same answer,” the Khalif continued, his voice bitter. “Fire. That is what they tell me. 'You will burn, and everything you own will be as ashes and dust'. That is all the signs say to them. Do you think you can find an answer where they could not, young unicorn?”

Star Swirl looked past the Khalif to the windows behind him, where the first stars were emerging in the night sky. “Give me a few minutes,” Star Swirl said, “And I will see what I can do.”

He approached the windows and studied the stars. “Your scryers and soothsayers,” he said. “What methods do they use?”

“The same as they have used for hundreds of years. They have means both fair and foul, for urgency or calm times as befits the age. They can read in stones and in bones, in the falling of water upon the tiles, in dreams and in seams and in rosaries. They can read in offering entrails and in the veins of your face.”

“I have something they don't. I will read the stars.”

The Khalif scoffed. “Certainly they can read the stars.”

Star Swirl shook his head. “Not like me.”

Star Swirl stepped up to the window and concentrated.

This was a different sky than his own. It spoke a different language, carried different messages: it did not know him, and he did not know it, but it spoke to him nonetheless. Somewhere in that singing madness he knew there had to be a clue.

He let his eyes roam across the great dome, slowly losing confidence. Everywhere he turned he saw a new stranger star, eager to entice him with wild promises he knew would not be kept, like the merchants down in the markets: full of vigor and beauty and mystery, all made only to empty his pockets.

The center exhausted, he searched farther away from the apex, until at the very bottom of the horizon, hanging low above the sands, there was a tiny pinprick of light and he thought: I know that star.

He stared at it, bent all his magic to reaching out to it, and gained a trickle of honest light through the wall of magic that was the Saddle Arabian night sky, and he heard its message.

“A shooting star comes for you,” Star Swirl said. “Born in darkness, it offers you aid as it strikes nearest to your heart.” He turned and saw the Khalif looking at him in shock, his face pale.

“There is no worse omen than a shooting star,” the Khalif said. “The only thing a shooting star offers is death and destruction. My lot must be miserable indeed if that is what I must look to for aid.”

“But it does,” Star Swirl said. “Khalif, I promise you, the stars are telling me you have a way to victory in this. But what you do with it is up to you.”

The Khalif nodded slowly, his sharp gaze locked on the unicorn, studying him for any sign of deception.

The Khalif sat down behind the great desk, clearly shaken by this message. “I will think on this,” he said. “You have told me something none of the others could. If that be good or ill, I must discover myself.”

Star Swirl thought he heard the possibility of rapprochement in the Khalif's voice, and cleared his throat. “There is one more thing, I might offer your majesty” Star Swirl said. “I have a suspicion of what might be allowing these evil forces to slip inside your walls. But in order to verify it, I must ask you for... a favor.”

“Speak your piece, unicorn.”

“I know that in this palace you possess a powerful magical artifact,” Star Swirl said. “I need to study it.”

“Out of the question,” a new voice said from the shadows.

The Sphinx stepped into the room out of nowhere, her massive lion's body silent and graceful. She stepped around the table, her eyes not leaving Star Swirl with a predatory smile. “So who is this little creature that asks?”

The Khalif sat up straight, watching the Sphinx warily.

Star Swirl bowed. “I am Star Swirl of Edinspur, sent by Princess Luna Noctis of Everhold. I am honored to meet you, miss?”

“I am the Sphinx,” she answered plainly. “There is only one of me, so no other name is necessary. You may, if you wish, address me as Grand Vizier.”

“Young Star Swirl has asked to be permitted to inspect the Sun Stone,” the Khalif said, his voice low and flat.

“I heard,” the Sphinx replied. “It is, of course, out of the question.”

“No foreigner has ever been so permitted,” the Khalif concurred, though Star Swirl thought he heard a hint of openness in his voice, a consideration. “I am curious, however, as to what he hopes to find?”

Star Swirl cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, a disruption of the artifact's magic could have far-reaching consequences, both subtle and overt. If it is possible that something has stolen in, that could be the root of all your nation's troubles. I am skilled at magic analysis. If I could study it, I could quickly detect if there is any corruption, and where it has come from.”

“All the nation's troubles...?” the Khalif asked. “You think this could be what caused my son to succumb to the sarāb?”

“...It could be possible,” Star Swirl said slowly. “I would have to study it to find out. If so, then we could cut the corruption at the source, and heal the damage it has done.”

“This absurd,” the Sphinx said bluntly. “The colt is making wild promises, nothing more. It is not possible that anything could have tainted it. Do not toy with the colt, my Khalif. You know his request is impossible.”

“I am the Khalif,” Hassan al-Rashid said in a deep and forceful tone, turning his eyes on the Vizier. “My word is law. If I decree that the colt can study the Sun Stone, then he can.”

“I served your father before you, and his father before him,” the Sphinx replied, her voice cold and hard. “When you are long gone, I will still live. I serve Saddle Arabia, and if you think I'll stand by while you sell your nation's future for one night of dreaming then you are sorely mistaken, my king.”

The Khalif's face turned to a frown, and his brow turned dark. Thoughts ran through Star Swirl's mind as he watched the two rulers meet in a clash of wills long in the making. There must be a way to persuade the Khalif.

Perhaps I can remove the Sphinx from the equation.

Star Swirl stepped forward and bowed low. “Your Majesty, I know that I am asking for much, and I am sorry that I must challenge your dearly held traditions,” he began. “But these are times of dire need. It is not only your son, your entire kingdom is at risk! Please give me a chance to prove my suspicions.”

“It is not the place of a petty junior diplomat to even discuss such matters,” the Sphinx said, waving a paw, long sharp claws extended, across her face. “My Khalif, I smell treachery at play. How does one so young know of these things?”

“I am not a junior diplomat,” Star Swirl said calmly, standing as tall as he could in the face of the Sphinx's predatory looming. “I am the Royal Astronomer of Everhold, and advisor to the Princess on arcane matters. Princess Luna herself entrusted me with this secret, and I keep it.”

“That explains much,” the Khalif said suddenly. “He tells the truth. I heard of the clamor you caused in Everhold a few weeks past. This is the pony who won the trust of the Princess of the Night, and stole the title from half a dozen wizened sages more than twice his count of years.”

“Impressive, I am certain,” the Sphinx sneered at Star Swirl. “And yet, it is no cause for us to bare our hearts and our souls to him. Your request has been heard, young unicorn. But it is impossible.”

“Is there no way?” Star Swirl asked, glancing to the Khalif. The horse's face was a mask, but Star Swirl thought he could see a glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes: a hope.

“There is none,” the Sphinx replied.

“I seem to recall,” Star Swirl said, turning from the Khalif to the Sphinx, speaking slowly and forming each word with care, “that traditionally the Sphinx accepts challenges from those who come to her.”

At that, the room fell silent. Star Swirl met the Sphinx's shocked glare. She stared at him as if he had gone mad, but the Khalif...

The Khalif was smiling. And there was a glimmer of possibility in his eyes.

Star Swirl decided to seize it.

“I challenge you to a game,” Star Swirl said to the Sphinx. “For the right to inspect the Sun Stone.”

“Traditionally,” the Sphinx replied, “those who challenge the Sphinx and lose are devoured.” She spread her mouth wide showing three rows of sharp, jagged fangs.

Star Swirl nodded slowly, feeling a drop of sweat running through his mane, struggling to let no fear show through his voice. “If I lose... I will accept any obligation you see fit. If I win, I may study the Sun Stone. Agreed?”

The Sphinx scowled indignantly, insulted at being so challenged. Star Swirl looked past her to the Khalif.

The King of Golden Sands smiled. “I will permit this.”

“Your arrogance and presumption is... refreshing. But you will come to regret it.” The Sphinx straightened her legs, rising up even higher than her normal great height. She clapped her lion's paws together. “So be it! We shall play a game.”

With a gust of her great wings the Sphinx rose up on her hind legs, and clapped her lion paws together, and there was a flash of blinding light and a burst of thunder.

When Star Swirl's eyes adjusted he found that he was back in the Hall of Reception. The Sphinx still stood before him, and the Khalif sat in the seat of judgment, while all around them the gathering of sages broke off their considerations to mark them.

Star Swirl turned until he caught sight of Womeluki: their eyes met, and he saw frantic warnings in her face.

“The Hall of Reception shall be our arena,” the Sphinx said. “Honored visitors! This one and I shall play a game this night! His Majesty the Khalif shall be our judge, and these honored sages will be our audience and our jury. Is this acceptable to you, young unicorn?” She grinned, and there was no missing the mocking tone of her words.

Star Swirl raised his head high and nodded. “What game should we play? I leave the choice to you, Vizier.”

The Khalif looked down upon them with a judge's eyes, weighing the scales. “Let the choice be fair. Not a game of labyrinthine rules, but a test of mind and awareness.”

“Your Majesty is wise and just,” the Sphinx glanced down at Star Swirl through slitted eyes and licked her lips. “You have studied much, and traveled wide from your home,” she said, knowing she had studied more, and traveled much wider than he. “I suggest a game of knowledge and power, of wits and magic: the Game of Ways.”

Star Swirl heard gasps and murmurs, saw raised eyebrows and nods of approval from the sages. The dragon pony rolled over on his cushion and watched intently, his eyes slitted and focused.

“What are the rules?” Star Swirl asked, attempting to sound brave.

“Speak to your companion,” the Sphinx said, glancing to the zebra. “She knows our ways well of old, and can teach you. Then, once you are ready, we will begin.”

With those words, the Sphinx withdrew to the foot of the King's seat, and laid down to wait with an expectant smile.

The zebra rushed to Star Swirl's side. “What did you do?” she demanded.

“I seem to have challenged the Sphinx to a game,” Star Swirl replied sheepishly.

The zebra exclaimed something in her native tongue. “She is going to destroy you, unicorn!”

“The Khalif seemed intrigued. I think I have a chance.”

“The Khalif is not your friend,” the zebra hissed. “I know you are not a politician, but think like them for a moment! Now you are a pawn in their game, a tool for the Khalif to use against the Vizier. But you are a small dart, and she is all over thick armor. You are made to be thrown away, and while your Princess may value you dearly, the Khalif does not.”

Star Swirl shuddered. “We don't have much time. What are the rules of this game?”

“The Game of Ways,” the Spinner intoned. “It is ancient, and the good news for you is that it is not hard to learn. But to master it is impossible in a hundred lifetimes. It is a game played around campfires and between distant tribes, in which two players draw upon their knowledge of different lands to strike and counter. She will show a creature with rare powers, and you must think of one to surpass it. She will set the theme, and you must keep up with her and place her in a losing position. Do you understand?”

Star Swirl nodded. “I think so.”

“Remember, you may not retrace your steps, and you may not play anything that is not real. Do not allow her to set the terms, for she will try to trap you in your words.” Womeluki stole a glance at the Sphinx and shook her head sadly. “The rest is up to you. Muster all your knowledge of the world, and may the spirits of your ancestors be with you, unicorn.”

Womeluki stepped back, leaving Star Swirl to face the Sphinx. The Vizier rose soundlessly and stepped forward, smiling, to play.

“The unicorn stands! Are you ready?”

Star Swirl nodded.

The Sphinx's smile shifted to a smirk. “For the benefit of our honored guest we will play in his native tongue of Equish. Or perhaps you would prefer Scoltish Neighlic?”

Star Swirl kept his face still. “Equish will be fine.”

“Then we will begin,” the Sphinx said. “It falls to me to set the theme. I choose: my kin.”

Around them, the room changed. The lights, already dim, darkened almost to extinction. The scent of incense turned to the dust of the desert, and the mild evening breeze from the windows high above the city turned to the winds of ageless tracks, a soft whisper in the distance.

A lone lamp cast a soft red glow upon the Sphinx's strange, hairless face, her red lips parting to show her red tongue.

And then she spoke.

“There is a place far away from here,” she said, and as she spoke a magical image of it appeared before them, so vivid that Star Swirl could not tell if it was in the magic of the Hall of Reception, or his own mind's eye, so vivid that he could have sworn he was there in the flesh. “A place where the mountains crack beneath the steps of giants.”

Star Swirl felt the ground tremble beneath him with each step of the unseen monster, his heartbeat racing. The Sphinx continued speaking. “Where towering figures blot out the sun as they walk, wielding great trees as clubs that they have pulled up by the roots with a single tug, or have snapped in two as easily as they would tear a blade of grass. A single giant eye stares balefully from its forehead, and those who catch its gaze will be crushed by its terrible blow.”

Star Swirl's mouth fell open as he saw the hateful creature roaring above him, crossing the great mountains and leaving great gashes in the forest through its passing, threatening violent death upon those who dared come close.

The Sphinx's grin widened as she watched his fear. “I am the Cyclops,” she said. “What will you be, to escape crushing death at my hands?”

The image froze, releasing Star Swirl from the grip of terror. He shuddered and gulped and coughed. “Is that how the game is played, then?”

“That is how the game is played,” the Sphinx replied, savoring his shock as if it were a fine wine.

Star Swirl closed his eyes and forced himself to calm. He took a deep breath, and thought back to his homeland.

“There are stories told, where I'm from,” Star Swirl began, “of spirits that make their homes in the crowns of flowers. Their wings are like butterflies, and their little horns can sense the trot of a foal from a hundred yards away. They are gentle creatures, if you show them kindness, but if you treat them with scorn and disdain then they will pester and torment you until you beg for mercy. Though they see beyond our world to realms beyond our imagining, they have the wills of children and easily get into trouble. But they are small and swift and adept at hiding. No creature with two eyes, can see them if they don't want to be seen, much less a creature with only one, and to club at them is like trying to catch the wind between your hooves.”

Star Swirl willed his magic to come alive, and reached out to feel the glamer that lay over the Hall of Reception. He found it malleable to his touch, and called forth the image of a swarm of the little creatures in every color of the rainbow, dancing in the wind, waving and weaving like flower petals in the breeze.

Star Swirl forced himself to meet the Sphinx's gaze unblinking. “The books call them faerie, but my nana called them the Breezies, and they can easily escape your Cyclops.”

Star Swirl heard the sages murmur their approval, and a sigh of relief from behind where Womeluki stood, and he allowed himself to smile as the Sphinx pursed her lips and stepped sideways around the central table towards him.

“In the nameless land at the edge of the map, where monsters dwell, there is a tribe of exiles,” the Sphinx began. “Long ago they were cast out from the lands of ponies, and forced to make their home in the barren wastes. They are part horse, and part... something else. Something shifting. Something that adapts, something that would not be stopped, but could survive in any environment the world could throw at it. There are few plants there for them to eat, few trees, and little grass, and flowers are a rare delicacy to them. Mostly they eat meat.” She snapped her jaws for emphasis. “They learned to survive in that land, and they learned to thrive, and they rose from the most wretched and low of the creatures that dwelled there to become the strongest, and now they are its kings. They have hooves, like you do, and course the fields as swiftly as any pony, and they have hands, like minotaurs, to carry spears and nets and any number of other things. They were hunted, and so they learned to become hunters without equal. I am the Centaur, and when I crush your flowers under my great hooves and cast a wide net upon you then even your elusive breezies will be my prey.”

Star Swirl could have sworn he felt the net bind him down, the spear thrust into his side and rip through his lungs, and he gasped for air. He stood silent for a while, drawing deep breaths, while the Sphinx watched him intently.

He cast his eyes about him, his thoughts racing. Womeluki stood frozen still, watching him intently with nervous eyes.

May the spirits of your ancestors be with you.

“The centaurs are masters of the wilderness and the open plain,” he began, and the Sphinx nodded. “But the wilderness and the open plain give way before the farmer and the artisan. All the beasts of the wild are held at bay by the guardians of hearth and home. A bowl of porridge and some butter given as thanks will keep the protectors happy, and the walls strong. Brownies, they're called, little but strong, and cast your spears and nets as you will, the walls will not budge.”

Star Swirl called up the image of a diminutive, chubby bearded gnome that clambered over the table and up the walls, but where it had passed it left behind a sense of stillness, of peace and comfort, as the worries of the world were shut out at the door.

The Sphinx only chuckled, and by her smile Star Swirl knew she had more vicious ideas in store. “There are perils that come from within your walls,” she replied. “There is a curse that your guardians are powerless to protect against. A touch of rage and hunger that drives all it touches into a frenzied and insatiable bloodlust. Fathers tear their loved ones apart, bereft of their senses. Hearth and home will be as nothing, and all the bonds that hold your towns and villages can be torn asunder. In the land of my birth it is called Lycippo. In Braytannia, the Eowulf. The Saddle Arabians call it al must'thib. I am the wolf-spirit that comes in the night and turns sleeping innocents into mindless killers.”

All was darkness in the Hall of Reception: darkness, and mindless fury, and the loss of reason, and the smiling red lips of the Sphinx. “What will your Brownies do, when the danger comes from within your own walls?”

Star Swirl shuddered as the fear crawled along his spine, an overwhelming and primordial terror. He felt like a child again, awake in the night, calling out for his mother and fearing, that when she came, she would have claws dripping red.

Wait, Star Swirl thought to himself. I never did that.

When I was awake in the night I sat on the rocks of Llamrei's Seat, looking at the stars and watching the nocturnal animals wander from a distance.

Luna's face appeared in his mind, asking questions of the stars, searching for the source of an unknown anxiety. Star Swirl bit down on his tongue and frowned, more angry at himself just then than the Sphinx. It would be a sorry thing indeed for Star Swirl to be afraid of the dark.

Star Swirl met his opponent's gaze and spoke calmly, saying, “The answer to unbound fury is reason. The terrors in the night are only our thoughts. Knowledge makes us masters of ourselves and our world.”

In his mind's eye, Star Swirl called up the image of knowledge, as he knew it: a vast monumental chamber filled with the attempts, often feeble, sometimes divine, of ponies to make sense of their world. The University Library at Cambridle. “There is a creature that once roamed the halls of my old school, that were knowledge given form,” he continued. “They have no mortal bodies, and no blood, and so the tainted claws of the wolf-pony cannot harm it. Instead they are made of paper or parchment and ink, imbued with the magic of the arts and empowered to hunt those who trespass against the rules of the library. Their true name cannot be spoken in this plane of existence, but we called them the Library Hounds.”

“That is almost too simple,” the Sphinx said. “Everything that is built succumbs to fire.”

In the magic image of the library, a spark fell upon an open book and soon it had grown to a great blaze, devouring the timber of the floors and the shelves and the books.

“Fire is the birthright of all the children of the sands. Some are its slaves, and some are its masters, but all are touched by it,” the Sphinx proclaimed impassively. “Whispered in legends are the beings of pure flame, who ride the jagged course of lightning across the heavens. I am the Efreet, and your spirits of knowledge stored on dry and dusty parchment are ashes and forgotten at my touch.”

“Not everything succumbs to fire,” Star Swirl replied. “There is a bird that makes its nests in volcanoes, that uses great fires to hatch its eggs. It laughs and dances in your fire, and your touch cannot harm it. When it dies, the Phoenix is reborn from its own ashes, and rises again renewed with youth, as its own daughter.”

“Foul!” The Sphinx interrupted, pointing an accusing claw. “I call a false play!”

Star Swirl glanced uncertainly around as the chamber erupted in murmurs from the gallery. Womeluki looked away, fearing the worst. “What's the matter?”

“I challenge your play, for you have broken the rules of the game,” the Sphinx said. “All that you play must be true, and your play was false. The Phoenix isn't real.”

“What?” Star Swirl scoffed. “Of course it is!”

The Khalif raised his hoof for silence. “We have a challenge!” His expression was unreadable as he turned to the visiting sages. “Let our esteemed visitors serve to judge this dispute. Star Swirl, speak.”

Star Swirl frowned, glancing around at the sages who were watching him with interest. “The legends of the Phoenix are beyond number. It's known everywhere in the world. It is as well known as anything else we have played, and I cannot see how anypony... any being... can doubt it.”

The Khalif nodded. “Vizier?”

The Sphinx turned and met the eyes of the sages. “I have traveled the world,” she began. “I have seen every land under the sun. I have climbed every mountain. I have drunk from every spring. I have seen many legends rise, and fall, with my own eyes. I have searched for it. I have searched farther and wider than any pony could hope to travel in his full count of years... But I have never seen the Phoenix.”

She drew a breath of incense, and paused momentarily. “I have learned every language spoken under the sun. I have questioned the sages of every land. I have spoken with wanderers and travelers, scholars, historians, I have asked all of them, searching for someone – anyone – who knows the whereabouts of the Phoenix. I have followed every hint, every distorted rumour, every claim by a cousin's friend's sister's lover's uncle that swore he saw the Phoenix soar across the heavens...! But never, in all the lands, have I seen it.”

She shook her head. “The Phoenix is nowhere. It is a fable, nothing more.”

The Khalif watched, and listened. “And what do our judges think?”

“The Phoenix is known in our lands,” the leader of the alpacas said. “But it has not been seen for thousands of years, and many do not believe it ever existed. We concur with the Grand Vizier. The play is false.”

The elephant hummed a deep tone to clear his throat. “I remember every word of every book that has been written about the daughters of the ember. Though never common, they were once sighted perhaps once a decade, dancing in the lightning. That was a very long time ago, and since then only a few have claimed to see them, and those are disreputable sources. Though I believe the Phoenix is real, there is no clear proof. I must rule for the Grand Vizier.

“It will come as no surprise that I too agree with the Vizier,” spake the griffon sage. “That is all.”

“That is three of six,” the Khalif said, and turned to Womeluki. “And what does the alhzal think?”

“This world is vast, and full of mystery,” Womeluki began. “I have seen things that none other here has seen, yes, not even you, o great Vizier.”

Star Swirl saw a flicker pass over the Sphinx's face in acknowledgment of the insult, filed away in memory to be repaid at some later time.

“I cannot say either way, if the Phoenix is real or not. I also cannot say it is impossible, and it would be a great shame if the game ended because a new player was denied over a single, uncertain, misunderstanding. I say let the move stand, or let the unicorn play again.”

All eyes turned to the next member of the gallery. Sitting on a pillow, empty eyes watching invisible things, the sage of the dreamtime seemed oblivious to anything happening around him, until he opened his mouth.

“I have seen the Phoenix,” he said simply. “The call of the firebird sings in the dadirri. The horned one speaks true.”

“That is only in dreams,” the Sphinx said, waving a paw dismissively. “The thylacine's mind is addled.”

“Dreams are real,” the doglike creature said, and was silent.

“These are our judges. His vote stands. That is three and two,” the Khalif said, his eyes turning to the final observer. “The Longma of Qilina. O venerable one, we beg you for your wisdom.”

Lounging on a great pillow, still puffing on his hookah exactly as Star Swirl first saw him, rested the dragon-horse.

The Longma of Qilina rested the pipe of the hookah upon his pillow and turned his eye upon the assembly. All was silent and the moments ticked by while they waited for him to speak.

“I rule for the colt,” he finally said, and he said no more.

The Sphinx frowned. “I wish to know your cause, venerable one.”

The Longma of Qilina nodded. “You may so wish,” he replied.

The Sphinx turned a sharp eye to the Khalif. “This is a grievous breach of the spirit of the game. There is no contest here. My verdicts are superior.”

The Khalif nodded. “If there is no contest here, then I say we carry it out to the end. The judges are tied. I declare that the unicorn be given a mercy. Star Swirl of Everhold, you may not play the Phoenix. My Vizier has played the Efreet. Choose wisely.”

The Sphinx's face turned sour at this ruling. She turned a slow and dire gaze on Star Swirl. “You have worn out my patience, little pony. This game has gone on long enough.”

Star Swirl affected a confidence he did not feel as his mind raced for another option.

“I met a creature not long ago,” he finally said, the words sounding weaker to him than he had hoped. “It had traveled across the great sea, disguised as one of the crew. It was of the waters and the fen-moors, and it slept in the wet deeps where nopony could see it. It lurks in lakes and waterways, waiting for ponies to pass by so it can steal into their thoughts and take away their dreams for its own. I followed it for weeks before I was able to lure it onto dry land, and trap it in a seal of magic woven tight.”

Star Swirl called up the memory of the creature's thoughts, of being tossed by storms and battered by waves, of slinking and lurking across Braytannia, traveling along marshes and swamps, looking out from thickets and reeds in the night in search of prey, racing from loch to lake to pond as Star Swirl chased after it. “It is called a Kelpie. It will douse your fires and drag you to a watery grave.”

“Watery grave?” The Sphinx chuckled. “You have brought water into the desert, expecting it to save you. You will find only death.” The air of the hall grew heavy and oppressive, and the air filled with churning sand that stung his eyes and blinded him. He felt the sand scraping inside his throat, his mouth dry as dust. “The winds of the desert beat upon you. No lakes, no fen-moors can survive here. Carrying the golden sands in their grip, it chokes your waters and leaves your kelpie writhing in agony as dry death shreds its skin. I am the Shlûq, the wind in the desert, and I bring death to all.”

Star Swirl shuddered, but pushed the sensations from his mind. He took a step back and . Around them, the observers murmured, unhappy with this move, and the Khalif frowned at his Vizier from his seat. I guess he doesn't care to be reminded of the desert.

“Interesting...” Star Swirl said under his breath as new ideas came into his mind.

I must not allow her to set the terms.

He steeled his nerves and began his next play.

“Long before ponies settled Scoltland, the entire land was covered in forest.” He threw his will into his magic and conjured a phantom rainfall to wash away the sand, and mighty trees that covered the land in shadows. “It was deep, and dark, and rich, and full of mystery. Beasts walked beneath that canopy who are unheard of in stories, for no pony ever saw them while they lived. They left their marks in the bark for us to find, life enduring across the ages. Pines and ferns beyond counting, millions and millions of them, sank their roots into dark, wet soil. They give shelter to all, and none are turned away. Those trees reach deep, and drink from waters that lie buried far below the ground.” He stared into her eyes, daring her to blink. “That forest truly has no name, for it is older than words. But your desert wind could not pierce that wood, your sands cannot choke that water.”

Her anger showed clearly in her eyes and in the curl of her mouth. “My father was a flooding river,” the Sphinx growled, stalking forward, and bringing the death of the flood with her. “He tore at the earth, he cut through stone and swept mighty palaces into the briny deep. He picks the soil from your roots and leaves them hanging like bones stripped clean of flesh. Your entire forest he rips away, with the patience of eternity, and when the last tree is dead the river will only be beginning!”

Great churning waters rose in the darkness, black and vicious: not the life-giving waters of the oasis, but the primordial deluge of ancestral memory, roaring forth to sweep away everything before it.

It burst forward, billowing, rising, falling down upon the image of a village to wipe it from the face of the earth.

Just before it made contact, the ground quaked so powerfully that even the mighty Sphinx had to catch her balance, and when she looked again the waters lay still behind a thick wall of stone.

Star Swirl drew deep, calm breaths as his horn glowed with magical exertion. “My kin are earth ponies,” he said. “They shape and bend the earth itself to serve them. They have tamed the rivers and the floods. They shape the passage of the waters as they please, and measure out the strength of the flood with dams. Your father is shackled and powerless before them!”

“My mother was a hurricane!” The Sphinx cried, stretching out her wings to their full span, almost stretching from one end of the hall to the other. Lightning struck and thunder roared as she bent all her power to call forth the very image of the greatest storm from when the sky was young. “The storms will come and destroy your dams, and every thing you build! No wall will remain standing!”

“My pegasi cousins can tame the heavens!” Star Swirl shouted, not backing down. A flurry of countless wings swept through the storm from every side, turning the winds inwards, beating them to submission and clearing away the clouds. “The hurricane obeys their every whim, and bends itself to carry their water!”

“I am the desert sky,” the Sphinx dolefully intoned, baring her sharp, jagged teeth, and as she did the storm was replaced by a searing, deathly dryness that caused the wings of the pegasi to wither into dust, and fall crashing to the earth. There were beams of light arcing through the air such as Star Swirl had seen on the voyage, cracked and broken and tormented. A whisper in the distance spoke of madness and power. “Untameable. Unstoppable. The pegasi cannot control it. The earth ponies cannot reach it. The unicorns cannot touch its magic.”

I can, Star Swirl thought. But nevermind that. You are growing overbold.

He glanced around the hall as he heard gasps and murmurs from the witnessing sages. The interest was gone from their eyes: their faces were strained and severe, almost fearful. The alpacas and the griffon visibly struggled to remain standing as the phantom desert choked their senses, whispering death in every breath.

Womeluki watching him with wide eyes, her silken hood now covered in webs of different patterns, trying to divine the outcome of the match before it came.

The elephant raced through a scroll, turning back and forth between it and the contest, while in its corner the Longma of Qilina only watched warily as the Grand Vizier called down Saddle Arabia's greatest enemy into the very heart of the kingdom.

Upon his seat of judgment the Khalif looked into the magic and saw his kingdom unraveling.

Star Swirl moved once again to wrest control of the magic away from the Vizier, and the palace shook beneath him as he did. Drops of sweat ran down his mane and tickled his muzzle, but finally a soft breeze came washing through the air.

He smiled as he felt a hazy pitter-patter of ethereal raindrops on his coat which left no water. Clouds covered the ceiling, blocking out the jagged, cracked light until the hall faded to darkness yet again. Then they broke and split apart, and suddenly the room was full of starlight.

A mild summer night, lit by an infinity of glowing pinpricks, washed over them. The heat of the desert gave way, and the blaze shrank until all that was left of it was a spot hanging in the center of the hall.

“There is a sky beyond the desert,” Star Swirl said, his voice calm and steady. “The world is vast, and the dome of heaven is vaster by far. The desert is only a small thing compared to it. I hold the night sky in my grip, and it speaks to me.”

The Sphinx grinned then, and Star Swirl grew uneasy. “What vanquishes the night sky?” she asked, with absolute confidence. “I rule the heavens in its entirety. I hold the desert, and every land across the world, in my sway. When I raise my head the night is banished. I am Celestia Apollonia Helia, and I am the Sun.”

She ran a claw across the polished tile floor, scraping a deep line into it. “What will you be then, little unicorn?”

Star Swirl opened his mouth, but said nothing. He looked into the Sphinx's eyes, saw her looking back with cruel satisfaction as he realized her game.

If I say anything, anything at all, I am committing treason.

I am telling a foreign power what it takes to defeat the ruler of my homeland.

I am conceding that there are greater powers that will lay waste to my own home.

And if I do not, I lose the game, and fail my mission.

Ice ran down his spine at the thought. The prospect of being killed and eaten by the Sphinx seemed trifling compared to the idea of returning to Princess Luna in failure.

I won't fail. I can't.

Time stood still as his thoughts raced to find some way out. The air froze in his lungs. The sages watched him intently, and it seemed to Star Swirl that the whole world held its breath.

“Well, little unicorn?” the Sphinx said, her grin wicked and triumphant. “What will it be?”

Behind him Womeluki made a gesture with her hoof, that might have been a sign of good fortune, or a ward to deter the evil eye.

Behind the Sphinx, the Khalif was tense upon his seat, clutching the armrests with his hooves, his face pale and gaunt and haunted.

Star Swirl drew a deep breath and locked his eyes against hers. “I am the Moon. I am Princess Luna.”

The Sphinx snarled. “That is not a superior move.”

“Princess Celestia is not going to destroy her sister,” Star Swirl said. “Few things are greater than Celestia by herself. But one of those things is Celestia with Princess Luna standing by her side. They rule both the day and the night together, and I say no power exceeds their reach.” He stepped forward defiantly. “Tell me, o Grand Vizier, what do you think will defeat Saddle Arabia's oldest ally? Is there a power in this land that will grow to cover all the earth, and bury all the lands of ponies, and tear the sun and the moon down from the heavens? Do you know of one? Will you name it here?” He pushed closer step by step, his face cold and hard as stone and for the first time he saw uncertainty creep into the eyes of the ancient beast. “Do you dare speak of the power that batters on your walls, and take on its mantle as your own, here, before the Khalif and all these witnesses? What will that do to you?”

He watched her face intently as the seconds ticked past without her answer. Her eyes were open and clear, but her expression shifted. One moment she seemed ready to speak, confident and prepared to proclaim her superiority, then she froze. Seconds ticked past in silence as thoughts raced through her head. Her face contorted in indignant fury at being so challenged, so insulted, only to freeze upon the realization that she had no answer, and Star Swirl saw his gambit had paid off.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came.

Everyone held their breath as the moments trickled by.

At last the Khalif broke the silence. He held up a hoof, and said, “The contest is a draw.” His face was without expression, but Star Swirl saw shock – and fear – in his eyes.

When they heard his words both Star Swirl and the Sphinx turned to him in shock. “A draw?” Star Swirl blurted out. “How's that possible?”

“You did not play a winning move, ambassador,” the Khalif replied. “Princess Luna will not best her sister any more than Princess Celestia will destroy Luna. I decree that the game is ended without a winner. It is the will of the King of Golden Sands.”

The Sphinx looked on first in shock, and horror, and then anger, her face contorting into a snarl. Star Swirl realized he had given her something she had not seen in ages, perhaps ever.

“It seems that neither of us wins,” she hissed, baring teeth: rows upon rows of sharp, curved ivory sabers. “It means I cannot eat you, little pony. It means you do not get a boon. But in a way this only makes me more angry. I should rather lose with honor than this.”

She turned a hateful glare on the unicorn, and her voice was dark and heavy with venom. “I have been beaten once. In another age, in a faraway land, a young creature solved my riddle and bade me leave the city where I had nested. To best the Sphinx is no blessing, and he was soon caught by his misery. He came of gnarled and poisoned roots, and madness was in his blood. There is a part of that same blood in me, oh unicorn, and I know spite and rage and hate as your tribe cannot imagine. But you... you have not even beaten me, and so I cannot curse you. I have no bond on you through which to strike you, and that only makes me more angry.”

The Sphinx turned and lashed her lion's tail, as if wishing she were the manticore and her tail had venom. “You will be sent back to your homeland to suffer your Princess's displeasure. You may come to wish you had simply been devoured.”

The Sphinx left. The Khalif stepped down from his seat and began to speak.

“Exalted visitors, honored sages – I thank you all for witnessing and judging this game. If any of these shadows have offended, I pray you be forgiving: we have witnessed here a spark of pure moments, without scheme or planning.”

Star Swirl looked around the room again and saw the sages from every corner of the earth looking back at him: some with respect, some with grave uncertainty, some with fear. All were deep in thought, pondering how they would tell of what they had seen that day in the courts of their homelands.

The Khalif turned to Star Swirl. “Young master unicorn... I ask that you come with me.”

Star Swirl became aware that two tall guard horses were brandishing weapons behind him.

The Khalif left the Hall of Reception, and Star Swirl was led after him into a dim corridor.

They walked in silence, leaving Star Swirl uncertain of their goal. He cleared his throat. “Your highness, to tell the truth I feel that I should have won that contest.”

“What you feel is unimportant,” the Khalif said, and at the tone of his voice Star Swirl began to realize he had not been invited in for private congratulations.

Star Swirl blinked. “I... don't understand, your majesty. Have I offended you? That was not my intention.”

The Khalif halted in his tracks. He spoke a curt command in Saddle Arabian which had the guards look at him uncertainly. He turned and glared at them, and they bowed, and backed away, leaving the two of them alone in the dark, narrow corridor.

“What am I to do with you, ambassador...?” the Khalif asked. “You come into my home under false pretenses. You throw about our most closely guarded secrets like chaff to the wind. You insult my most trusted advisor. You toy with forces you cannot control or understand. For the sake of a game, you made my palace tremble unto its foundations.”

“...I do not understand,” Star Swirl admitted.

The Khalif stood unmoving, staring at nothing. “I saw a vision in the midst of that duel,” he said quietly. “You, and my Vizier, invited the heart of the desert into my palace. I saw her face, I heard the voice... and I knew then that this is how I will die.” For a moment the Khalif let his finely crafted mask slip and Star Swirl saw him unguarded: hunched forward, his face pale, his eyes gaunt and haunted. “You have brought a great evil with you into my home, Star Swirl. It is only due to the great esteem in which we hold your Princess, our old ally, and Silver Tongue, may he dwell forever with his ancestors, that you are not already thrown in the dungeons. I gravely misjudged you.”

“I ask you to reconsider,” Star Swirl said. “What about your son? Let me do my work, and I can help you!”

“Yes,” the Khalif admitted. “I thought you could help my son. I dared to hope that the omens were wrong, but I see now how hopeless my cause truly is. I am not blind, Star Swirl, and I can see that you will only destroy everything you touch. The Vizier was right about you. You are reckless. Rash. Arrogant. Boastful. Foolhardy. Yet you are also powerful. So powerful that when you fall, you will bring an entire nation down with you. It will not be mine.”

He drew a deep breath and rose up to his full height before recalling the guards with another curt command.

“Star Swirl of Edinspur, you are not welcome in my home any longer. The guards will escort you out of the palace. Go back to your princess, or be sent there in chains.”

Star Swirl winced at the words. He imagined going back to Everhold, standing before Luna and telling her that he had failed, and his insides turned to knots and stones.

I can't go back.

“Your highness, I have a mission,” Star Swirl said, his voice low and intense. “I do not desire your enmity, but while I have life left in me I cannot leave it undone. Tell me what it will take to win me entry and I'll do it.”

The Khalif snorted. “You can have your wish,” he said, “when the Queen of Golden Sands is dead, and the desert wind falls silent. When all the desert knows peace and nothing threatens Our throne, you may see it. Until then, you are forbidden from setting one hoof inside my city. Take him away.”

And so he was shown through the dim backdoors passages of the palace and minutes later he was outside, and the great gates slammed shut behind him.

Star Swirl stared up at the towering dome of the palace and cursed under his breath. “Well, that was a complete failure...”

“Was it?” Star Swirl turned and saw Womeluki already outside, waiting for him.

He sighed. “I should say so. The Khalif has banished me from the city. I didn't reach my goal and I was almost eaten by a monster. Now I must return home and tell my lady that I failed her, and I wonder if death would be more merciful.”

Womeluki shook her head. “The way to our destiny is rarely a straight path, and oftentimes what you thought you were searching for is not what you were meant to find. I thought the Great Spinner meant me to hunt and defeat the ghûl. Now I think he has something else in mind. He has taken an interest in you.”

Star Swirl did not answer, locked in his own morose thoughts. She put a hoof on his shoulder and another under his chin. She raised his head to look into her eyes, through three layers of silken webs formed by little spiders that crawled up and down her face without her so much as shifting.

“I was not sure about you,” she said. “There is a darkness in you, Star Swirl. Even now I cannot see what lies inside your heart. Yet some things I can see without magic. You are brave, resourceful, and tenacious, and I can see that you do what you believe to be right. You stood up against the Sphinx, and fought her to a standstill. There are few who can make that claim. You are still on the path destiny has chosen for you, and if you follow it, you will find your purpose.”

“The Khalif does not share your high opinion of me,” Star Swirl admitted.

“Perhaps you need someone to offer you a chance,” she said. She smiled and raised a hoof in greeting. “If you have achieved nothing else here, Star Swirl of Everhold, you have made a friend.”

Star Swirl smiled back and knocked his hoof to hers. “I can live with that.”

“Do you know what you will do next?” Womeluki asked.

Star Swirl looked out across the night-time horizon, out towards the desert. He remembered the caravan, and Silver Tongue, and the ghoul, and the Khalif's last words ran through his mind.

“Yes,” he said. “I am going back to the desert. And I am going to finish my mission.”

Interlude: In Dreams.

Princess Luna was dreaming the best dream she knew.

“I want to show you something, Lulu.”

It was the night her father had brought her into his dreams, and shown her what he called his garden: a place of giant flowers that thrive and blossom in moonlight, of lakes and little islands and waterfalls, free of all discontent. It was more beautiful than any place she had seen in her waking life, and when she walked in it, she felt more at peace than she had ever known.

“This is the Dreamlands. All the dreams of my little ponies come from here, be they good or ill. Only I have the power to come here freely... only I, and now, you. You take after me, you know. Your sister takes more after your mother, and neither of them have the power to come here... So it's time I taught you the power of dreams.”

That night he showed her every corner of the Dreamlands, and taught her what it meant for her.

“From here we can see inside the minds of all living things. In dreams, our subjects reveal what lies inside their hearts. Their secrets, their hopes, their fears... We watch over the dreams of our subjects. We learn what troubles them, and we help them to grow to their full potential. This is one of my duties as a royal, and someday it will be yours.”

She was so young, then, still a little filly, and her father seemed so grand, so powerful compared to her. She would ride on his back and hide inside his mane, the dark stallion who was only partly made of physical matter, and partly made of the sky: Monoceros, the King of the Firmament. And yet when he took her with him, and showed her the duties that only they could do, she knew that they were made of the same stuff, that she could some night be as grand herself...

The first time she managed to make the dreamstuff listen to her she felt a joy she had not known was possible.

He took hold of her and held her close to him. He was warm and soft and comfortable, and his voice always had the promise of wisdom and safety, and when she heard it she knew that everything was going to be fine.

“You're growing up, my daughter... my little mare of night. You have no idea how proud I am of you.”

She woke up, her face wet from her tears, and found herself back in her own crescent-framed silver bed, and began to ponder the dream.

Oh, she could control her dreams of course. She could visit the garden her father had built whenever she wished... but she didn't. Not unless she felt worthy, and that happened less and less in recent times.

Besides, he would not be there if she did. He was long gone, and this image of him had been an honest dream.

She usually let her own dreams roam freely, and become what they would be. This time they had led her there without her consciously willing it, and she wondered what it signified.

Luna was still pondering it when she sat down opposite her sister for their evening meal. Celestia was already there, looking over some documents while she ate.

“I dreamt that I saw father,” Luna said, after they had eaten a while in silence.

“That's nice,” Celestia said. “We are making progress with the envoys lately. The griffons have agreed to initiate peace talks at last. We have persuaded them to send an emissary here to begin discussions. If it works out, we will have a truce while we negotiate a lasting peace.”

Luna took another bite in silence, watching her sister.

“Terrible as it sounds,” Celestia continued, “it seems to me that ever since Stalliongrad, the griffons have been much more amenable to negotiations. Their defeat humbled them.” She shook her head slowly. “It's sad to think that so many lives had to be lost to get them to the table. We could have resolved this peacefully long ago. I know we could have.”

After their meal they turned the skies, and Celestia retired to her chambers. For Luna it was time for Night Court.

It was an early session, opening shortly after the moon had risen rather than after midnight. It was more convenient for the petitioners that way, and after long and weary discussions with her sister for means to raise attendance Luna had reluctantly been persuaded to take their convenience into account.

It was a bitter concession for her. Her private time in the early evening hours lost, her court torn away from her time and instead positioned as close to her sister's as possible. The results, as far as Luna was concerned, were predictable: there were still few of them, and since they had successfully bent her schedule to their will they were only encouraged to try to bend her further. Over time, she watched herself slipping further and further behind...

This night the bitterness was dulled by distraction, however. Luna's mind was still on the dream.

It meant something. She knew it. But she could not tell what.

Perhaps Star Swirl would have an idea, she thought to herself while listening to a proposal for a bridge to be built across some river or other. He knows so much more than even he realizes.

She ruled on the issues they brought to her swiftly and judiciously, and no lives were lost or saved as a result. She closed the court as soon as she could, and stalked away into her private chambers without waiting to hear praise or criticism.

As she did every night, she looked up at the stars. As she did every night, she thought they were warning her, that they were watching something terrible slowly unfold which they were powerless to prevent, and she did not know what.

Tonight, somehow, she thought they seemed more worried than normal. That something was coming. Something close.

“Captain.”

A hoof struck the floor behind her, signaling his attention.

“Much as I try, I cannot escape this feeling that something terrible is approaching,” Luna said. “Something unspeakably cruel... A noose slipping around our necks. I fear it may be coming to Everhold.”

“We will double our patrols,” said Cold Wing, Captain-Commander of the Shadowbolts. “Let it hide in the darkest shadow, it will not escape our sight.”

Luna nodded. “Let it be so.”

She gazed up at the fearful stars as he disappeared. “I pray you are wrong... and I wish I knew why you cannot see.”

It was drawing close to midnight, and the dreams were rising. She laid down on her barrel in her bed, closed her eyes, and let her mind leave her body.

When she rose again she was in the Dreamlands. She took it in, in all its shifting majesty: another world laid upon the old, where all hidden things were revealed and every horizon was newborn, never seen before, never to be seen again.

She flapped her wings and rode upon its surface and watched dreams rise up from below like bubbles from the sea.

The Dreamlands were no more troubled than usual, only a bushel of ill dreams in an ocean of restful slumber. Yet there was a tension in her that she could not identify.

Sometimes she thought she could hear a sob and a whimper on the wind, like a foal seeking refuge from waking pain in dreams, and and not finding it. But no matter where she went it remained distant, impossible to identify.

For years she had listened to the cry. Her heart wrenched within her to think that a foal out in the world needed her help, but she could not find them.

I have taken steps, she thought to herself. I've found an agent, and I have set him to scour the world. He can find out what is happening, and when he does we will stop it.

I wonder how he's doing.

Perhaps I can go talk to him.

The thought was quite unbidden, and very unprofessional. She knew she shouldn't: she certainly didn't interrupt her Shadowbolts while they were on assignment to ask for updates.

But then Star Swirl isn't a Shadowbolt. He's a scholar. It's his first mission. I didn't send him to do anything dangerous. I'm sure he's fine.

But it couldn't hurt to check.

She beat her wings and flew, and the Dreamlands turned rapidly beneath her, until she drew near to the distant domain of Saddle Arabia. She searched until she found the dreamer she was looking for.

I am going to be professional about this, she told herself.

“Star Swirl,” she said. “Can you hear me?”

He appeared before her in a hurry, rumpled and disheveled. Even in dreams she could see that his garments had not borne the voyage well, but Luna smiled again at the sight of them. “Princess Luna!” He bowed and put on a nervous smile. “I wasn't expecting you!”

“I hope I'm not interrupting anything, Star Swirl.”

You are absolutely interrupting. Just look at him.

“No, no,” he said a little too quickly.

This was a terrible idea. Stop pretending, you're only doing this for your own peace of mind and you're interfering with the mission.

They stood silently for a few seconds, each waiting for the other to speak first. Eventually he cleared his throat. “Is everything all right, Princess?”

“Oh... yes! Yes, everything is fine,” she replied with a false smile and a laugh, and then silently cursed herself. “I hope you are well?”

He hesitated, then nodded.

“It has been some weeks since you left Everhold,” she continued. “I hope your mission is going smoothly?”

The way his face contorted when she asked did not give her great hopes.

“...My colleague died,” he began, and Luna gasped. “We were attacked during the desert crossing. Your highness, there is definitely something terrible going on in this country.”

“Died?” she whispered. “Star Swirl, tell me you're unharmed?”

“I'm fine,” he said. “I've… I've made it to the capital city. I saw the Khalif. I had a meeting with him and the Vizier to – discuss the matter. I've met a zebra sage, and we're pursuing a lead now.”

Though he put on a brave face, Luna noted, the young stallion was not good at concealing his feelings. He doesn't want to disappoint me.

“It sounds like you're making progress, then,” she said, and he nodded altogether too quickly. “Please try your best, Star Swirl. I trust that you can do this.”

“I... Yes, Princess. I will.”

They fell into silence again. “I suppose I'll let you get back to it,” Luna said, shifting her legs awkwardly.

“Alright,” Star Swirl said. “I'll get to the bottom of this. I promise.”

He was gone, and she was alone again in the Dreamlands. She wandered aimlessly across them, wondering what was going on in her mind.

The sound was there for a while before Luna realized what she was hearing: the distant cry of an ancient being, a bird's call of hope and despair.

Luna looked up and saw it, in the form of an arc of fire high above the world: the dream of the Phoenix's flight. She halted and watched it closely, blocking out all other concerns.

Even to her it was a rare sight. It was a dream, but whose dream it was she did not know.

The Phoenix had not been seen for a very, very long time.

It passed over her, striving for a distant horizon, and faded into nothingness. She listened to it intently for as long as she could, but it drowned out in the distant cries of frightened foals, caught in the throes of bad dreams.

There is a duty only I can do, she thought. Perhaps this is a way I can be something more than just my sister's shadow.

She delved into the first bad dream she saw: a foal tormented by monsters lurking in the dark, hiding outside the window and under the bed, within the closet and behind her parents' faces.

She banished the stalking creatures with a thought, and appeared before the foal's sight with a smile. “All that you fear are only illusions,” she said. “Do not be afraid, for the Night-Mare is watching.”

There, she thought as she moved on to the next dream. Now she will know, and she will tell her friends, and word will spread, and they will call upon the Night-Mare to keep them safe and sound in their sleep.

– – –

“I do not understand it,” Luna told her sister over their morning meal. “It's like there is a creeping tension in everything I see...”

“Perhaps you should speak with a doctor,” Celestia said. “Sometimes I worry about your health. I know we are us, but it cannot be healthy to spend all night like you do.”

“I'm serious, Tia!” Luna snapped. “You know prophecy is my domain.”

“It's a very unreliable domain, Lulu,” Celestia replied. “I'm sorry, but it's true.”

Luna scowled at her sister. “You never take me seriously.”

“Lulu, you know that's not true,” Celestia said, sipping her tea. “Alright then, fine. What's bothering you, sister?”

“Everything feels somehow tense,” Luna said. “Like the universe is holding its breath. I think something terrible is approaching us.”

Celestia rose up and came around the table, sat down and wrapped her wing around her sister. “Everything is going to be fine,” she said. “It's the war, I'm sure. It's been weighing heavily on all of us. But it's all going to be over soon. We're going to put an end to it. These talks will make sure of it.”

“These talks would be a great time for something to go horribly wrong,” Luna muttered.

“It won't,” Celestia answered. “I will make sure of it. Trust me, little sister. Tia has everything in hoof.”

The bell tower rang nine. “I have to get going,” Celestia said. “I'm needed in Court. You should go get some rest. I'm sure everything will look brighter when you get some sleep.”

Luna nodded absently, and Celestia left.

The Sun Princess arrived in the throne hall a minute later, and took her seat upon the golden throne. “Good morning, my little ponies, and welcome to the Sun Court. We will begin in a few minutes.” She looked at the parchment which had been presented by her seneschal and smiled. “I understand a new member has come to our court. Please step forward.”

A pony in armor approached the throne, and bowed. Celestia smiled at him. “Welcome to our court. I hope we may provide whatever aid you desire.”

“Your Majesty,” said the White Knight, “I am certain that you may.”

Chapter 10: Impossible Things, Act Three

Long ago, two different worlds met and made a compact.

The desert had been a cruel sanctuary, where outcasts and feared creatures had fled into one of the few places where they would not be followed, because the land was all but barren and lifeless. For ages they clawed a meager survival from the wastes, until one came, driven by ambition, to offer a bargain to the queen of that land: open the sanctuary, and permit the mundanes to live therein, and in return the outcasts would be left alone and given a chance to share in the wealth.

In the heart of the land they met. They made a bargain, and drew up boundaries that all respected. They swore friendship eternal and exchanged gifts dear to the hearts of each: gifts of wealth and life.

In this way peace was forged between the mundanes and the monsters.

Time passed. The true ruler of the land watched as the new settlers grew in power, and spread farther and farther, and pressed against the boundaries they had drawn up. She watched as the compact slipped into history, forgotten by all but a few. She watched as her sanctuary grew hard, and hollow, and bitter.

Then there was a crime committed by the cousins of the settlers, in a distant land. The Queen howled for vengeance, but the settlers heeded her not, and the days grew cruel and hateful.

The compact was forgotten. The boundaries were broken, and the peace became frail and tattered.

In the heart of the desert, the Queen longed for that which was most dear to her heart to be brought back to her.

– – –

Impossible Things, Act Three
The Heart of the Desert.

– – –

“I told you I have a mission from the Princess of the Night,” Star Swirl said, still thinking on what Luna had said to him during the night. “I've been keeping the details to myself, but I think it's time I shared them.”

It was the morning after they were shut out of the city. They had emerged from their tents outside the city walls in the early hours, and sat eating while the sun was still below the horizon.

“Perhaps you should,” Womeluki agreed. “If I am to help you, I must know what we are working for.”

Star Swirl nodded. “This is the crux of it: something threatens the magical web that protects the world. I am trying to find out where, and how. There is a powerful magical artifact inside the Khalif's palace called the Sun Stone. It is the source of Saddle Arabia's power, and it is one of the nodes that keeps the web whole and true. I need to get inside and study it.”

“I know of the Sun Stone,” Womeluki said. “It sits in the most secure chamber deep within the palace, the Khalif's vault of treasures. None but the Khalif and his most esteemed counselors are permitted there, and all walls and the guardians of the palace keep it safe. How do you propose to reach it?”

“Well... The Khalif said he would let me back in and show it to me if I defeat the Queen of Golden Sands.”

Womeluki hesitated. “You realize that's just a common saying, akin to 'when pigs fly' or 'when Tartarus freezes over'?”

Star Swirl nodded. “But if I did, would he let me in?”

“He would probably give you half the kingdom! But that is not a challenge, Star Swirl, that is a death sentence.”

Victory or death. Star Swirl nodded. “You don't have to go with me. It's my mission. Help me find her lair, and I'll go in alone.”

“...The worst part is that you honestly believe what you're saying.” She muttered. “Very well. I will help you, and I will not have you face this evil alone. For the sake of our new friendship, I will accompany you on this voyage, unicorn. May the Great Spinner preserve us if this does not work.”

“I'm not sure I like the idea of being preserved by a spider god,” Star Swirl admitted, which made Womeluki chuckle. “But let's leave that aside for the moment. You know the ways of the desert. Do you know where the Queen has her home?”

“Yes and no,” Womeluki said. “It is the heart of the desert, and it cannot be reached by mortals. Even if you knew where it should be, on a map, if you do not know the keys and the hidden pathway you would find nothing but empty desert dunes.” She brushed a hoof through the sand thoughtfully. “But there are those who do know.”

“The ghouls,” Star Swirl said, and Womeluki nodded. “You said before that you were tracking the ghoul that attacked the caravan. You know their ways. Can you find one now?”

Womeluki narrowed her eyes. “It almost killed you, Star Swirl.”

“I know. This time I'll be ready for it.”

“...You continue to make me question my judgment,” Womeluki said. She sighed. “Very well. I will set to scrying, and see if I can find a track for us to follow. You do likewise, if you can.”

“There are some stars out still. I'll see if I can learn anything from them.”

“You ask the heavens.” She began to walk, dragging one hoof behind her until she had drawn a great circle in the sand. “I will ask the earth.”

Womeluki began to sing a song in her own language, a low dirge that spoke of jungles full of life and color. From under her cloak came one, two, three, four, five spiders of different breed and clambered down her leg, out onto the sand inside the circle. As one they began to crawl across it, leaving minute tracks that formed elaborate sigils, and Star Swirl noticed that within the circle the wind was entirely still: not a grain shifted from where it fell, whereas outside the desert moved unceasing.

In a minute, as Womeluki sang, the circle was covered in markings.

“Let the veil be lifted from my eyes,” she now muttered. “Find me one of the lost children of the sands!”

With that, the wind struck her like a whip, and within the circle the sigils were shredded and torn.

Womeluki stamped her hoof angrily, and the spiders crawled back inside her cloak. “Curse her... The Queen has warded her servants from scrying eyes. I do fear she has taken notice of our actions and pits her will against mine. What of you, are you finding anything?”

Star Swirl had been scouring the brightening desert sky as it moved in its eternal, seductive dance, whispering for it to show him its secrets. “Nothing.” He kicked at the sand and sat down on his rump. “Perhaps if it were darker I would see more clearly.”

“Do not ask for darkness. You may well get it.”

The sun was just beginning to rise above the horizon. Star Swirl pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes. “I think this land could stand to have a bit more darkness, myself.”

He watched as the stars faded out of sight in the morning light, and scowled. “It is only noise and clutter.” He sighed and kicked at the sand in frustration. “I don't understand this. I don't know what to look for, and what I see I cannot read. It's all a riddle to me.”

“Perhaps we are going about this the wrong way. Scrying is a delicate art, akin to love. It demands a certain sensitivity.”

Star Swirl raised an eyebrow. “You are a very strange zebra.”

Womeluki chuckled and continued. “There is so much about this land you do not understand, young one, It has a history as long and as varied as your own land, or any other land in the world. You are a stranger here.”

They moved into the shadow of a dune as they spoke. Star Swirl sat down with a sigh. “Help me to understand, then. You know about the ghouls. Tell me more about them.”

“There are stories told of the ghûl from before the first horses came to Saddle Arabia,” Womeluki began. “Even when there were no settlements here, before there was a nation, there were those who wandered the desert sands, wielding dark and forbidden magics.

“Some stories say they could change shape as they pleased, to better prey on the few, foolish travelers who dared cross the land in search of opportunity far from their homes. Other stories say they do not change their shape, but that the ghûl moves from body to body, taking control of another's mind and driving them to madness.

“The stories are beyond counting. It is told that they haunt forgotten places and unguarded paths, waiting for travelers to ensnare with their magic. Some are brutal, some deceiving... All are treacherous, and willing to kill. Many stories say that they are servants of a dark and terrible power.”

“The Queen of Golden Sands,” Star Swirl said.

Womeluki nodded. “Sometimes, a horse, or a goat, or a camel, or any manner of thing is born... different. Deformed. Tell me, Star Swirl, what do they do in your homeland, with pony babies that are not whole and true in body?”

Star Swirl remembered stories he had been told by the older foals in Edinspur as a child, and things he had read in the great library of Cambridle, and grimaced. “There are legends about monstrous creatures that steal away newborn foals and replace them with their own offspring... Unfinished imitations of ponies. Changelings. The legends never end happily.”

“Here, those unfortunates are thought to be the children of ghûl, dark omens foretelling of great unhappiness to come. Cast out from their parents' tribe, they lead lives of sorrow and uncertainty, not knowing who or what they are... until the desert calls them.” Her voice was cold as ice and sent a shiver along Star Swirl's spine, no matter what the desert heat had to say. “The sarāb, the madness of the desert, falls upon the inhabitants of Saddle Arabia in their moments of weakness and exhaustion, and lures them away from safety... So many of the weakest succumb, those who have none to speak for them. Some are killed. Some are taken by the Queen. A few come back, but they are never the same.”

“Doesn't the Khalif try to bring them back?” Star Swirl asked.

“The Khalif cares little for his lowest subjects,” Womeluki said bitterly. “The poor, the lame, the blind beggars in his streets lead their lives in squalor beneath his notice. Cast out from the safety of the cities, they can choose between death, and sarāb. To the desperate and the lonely, the desert promises relief... But the Queen only takes, and takes, and takes. I would see them overthrow their masters, and be free, in a place free of pain... Pain is easy to create, and it grows and stretches farther and farther, until it poisons even distant lands... until it poisons my own land, or even yours. I would see the Saddle Arabians create joy instead.”

Star Swirl pondered this silently. In the western sky, above the capital city, the last stars were fading, hiding from the unrelenting glare of the day. “Some things are the same everywhere... You're wrong, weaver: I do understand some things you don't.” Star Swirl got up on his hooves and looked again. “I understand darkness.”

This time he did not look for a powerful sorcerer, or a burst of magic of hate and vengeance. This time he looked for a child, confused, lost and lonely, and seeking answers.

It did not take long for him to find it.

“There is a lonely figure... that way,” he said, pointing east.

“A ghûl?”

Star Swirl nodded. “He wanders slowly in the desert, along a road that no-one else walks. I don't know how far from us he is.”

“The same sun is rising on us all,” Womeluki said. “We will find him.”

– – –

Before midday they crossed the ghoul's path, and where Star Swirl saw nothing Womeluki spotted the tracks and began to follow. In the end the tracks led them to the abandoned ruin of a village. “What is this place?” Star Swirl asked.

“Broken Blossom,” Womeluki replied. “This was once a large oasis, and lay on a rich trade route. Hundreds of Saddle Arabians lived here.” She spoke quietly as they walked. “But the winds changed, and the waters dried up, and the villagers fled. Now no-one comes here.”

“It is fitting then that we are searching for a no-one,” Star Swirl said.

They trotted silently through the ruins: walls slowly crumbling, the stone slowly being worn to nothing by the sandy wind. At the center of the ruins they looked over a wall to see a stallion. His face was haggard and worn. One of his hind legs was warped and misshapen, and dragged behind him. He limped slowly through the abandoned village, moving from broken stone wall to empty home as though searching for something.

His eyes were solid black, reflecting no light. He was alone, and all around him was silence.

“That must be him,” Star Swirl whispered.

“Yes,” Womeluki replied, pondering as she studied him. “This village must have been his home, before the Queen took him... How long ago was that, I wonder. How long in her service...?”

“It must have been very long,” Star Swirl said with a confident smile. “Compared to the prince, this one is old and frail. We can take him.”

“Patience and mercy, young one,” Womeluki chided.

“I know,” Star Swirl muttered. “We need him alive if we're going to get anything useful out of him.”

Womeluki sighed and shook her head. “Be swift, but restrain yourself. We will surprise and subdue him.”

Star Swirl nodded. “Ready when you are.”

Womeluki nodded back, and they leapt across the wall and charged.

The ghoul turned on them the moment Star Swirl's hoof struck the ground. Immediately Star Swirl felt the horse's magic building, heard the wind rising and saw the sands begin to rise.

The unicorn let out blast after blast of magic aimed at the creature as he ran, determined not to let the ghoul muster his power and pin them down. He saw his bursts hit their mark, skipped to the side, ran closer and continued firing.

A shield of sands surrounded the ghoul like a barrier of tiny whirling whips, and Star Swirl closed his eyes as he charged right into it. It bit and stung and stabbed at his face, and it took all his effort not to pull back and raise his own shield to defend himself. Instead, eyes closed, he both reached out with his magic, and leapt bodily upon the old horse – and then they were rolling in the sand, each struggling to pin the other down with both magic and hooves pounding against each other.

As when he met the prince, the moment their magic touched he was flooded with sensations of smoldering death. It filled his nose and his throat, and a sensation of burning nausea rose up in him, but he had felt it before and was determined not to let it break his focus.

Wherever any part of his body touched he felt it burn, and the burn reached inward as though sinking into his blood. But he did not let go. He clung to the creature with all his power and struggled to hold him down, both physically and magically, while the sands rose up in a whirl all around them. It lashed against his robes, and the bells rattled more than jingled as they filled with sand.

Calmly and silently, Womeluki came up beside the two stallions and held out her hoof. From it she set one of her friends leaping upon the old stallion's face with a web held ready in its legs, and he fell still in mind and body.

Star Swirl was only vaguely aware of Womeluki walking up beside him, seeming entirely calm, and holding out her hoof. Something leapt out from it, and immediately afterward Star Swirl felt the ghoul let him go and cease struggling, his magic silent.

Star Swirl clambered onto his hooves and saw a spider skitter back across the sand and inside Womeluki's robe. The ghoul stared up at nothing through a web that stretched across his face, his chest rising and falling, his mouth opening and closing. His tongue stuck out as though he was being choked, but he made no sound and Star Swirl could see no hint of expression in his black eyes.

He prodded the horse with a hoof. “Is he awake?”

“His mind is whole, but his body will not obey him,” Womeluki said. “The web will hold him for as long as we need. My friend's eyes are bigger than her stomach: she can paralyze far more than she can hope to eat.”

A long-legged spider crawled out onto Womeluki's raised hoof, and waved at Star Swirl. Her eight eyes were, in fact, larger than her abdomen.

The spider withdrew again. “So, now that we have him, what do you mean to do?”

“We need to interrogate him. He knows the way to the Queen's lair. You speak his language. Can you get him to talk?”

She nodded, and bent down over the fallen ghoul. She took hold of his head between her hooves and turned it so she could look into his eyes.

Like the flick of a lever releasing the waters of a dam, the creature went from lying still and silent to thrashing and gurgling as though caught in the throes of a fever dream. Star Swirl watched as Womeluki held him spellbound, unable to tear his gaze away from her eyes. He wondered what the ghoul saw in them.

Womeluki cursed through gritted teeth. “His tongue is bound with the Queen's magic. Her hold on him is very strong: he cannot speak to me even if he wants to. If I try to break through the bonds she has placed on him I might destroy his mind entirely.”

She released him, and he fell back to the ground, curling up as if in pain. “Given time and better circumstances I can try to untangle him... We should take him back to the capital city. Or if they will not let us back in, then to a nearby village. They can care for him there, and we can try again in a few days.”

Star Swirl winced at the thought of the delay. “Let me try something first.”

“Oh? What?”

Star Swirl thought back to the Kelpie, the memory of its voyage across the sea, fleeing from some unknown evil. “I can look inside his mind, to try to see where he came from.”

Womeluki narrowed her eyes. “Mind control? That is dark magic, Star Swirl, and best left alone.”

Star Swirl rolled his eyes. “Not mind control. Just... observation.”

She looked uncertain for a moment, seeming to debate herself, then stepped back from the horse and nodded. “Be careful. His mind is a tormented place.”

“Alright...” Star Swirl stepped up before the bound horse, who looked back at him with those solid black eyes that betrayed nothing of the mind they once held. The unicorn adjusted his hat, making sure it fit snugly on his head behind his horn, and willed his magic to envelop the ghoul. “Let me see what she did to you.”

Again the noxious, ashen taste assaulted him as their magic touched, and Star Swirl remembered again his encounter with the prince. He shuddered, but did not let go of his focus. He looked inside the ghoul, and saw the heart of the desert within.

The charred magic of the desert, what Star Swirl had begun to see as the mark of the Queen flowed through his veins and beat in his heart. It consumed every part of him, giving him strength beyond his mortal form, and placed the powers of the sands at his command... and gave her control over his mind.

“What do you find?” Womeluki asked.

“I am studying the Queen's magic, seeing how it works,” Star Swirl said.

“It is a dark and dangerous power, Star Swirl. Be wary, lest it cut you.”

“Magic is only evil if it used thus,” Star Swirl said. “If we know about it, we can protect ourselves from it. Show me, old horse... Let me see how she binds her slaves.”

Beginning in the heart, Star Swirl traced the path of the magic through his body to try to find where it entered. It was in the blood, present in every drop, and flowed through the poor stallion's entire body. It tasted like dry sand, and as he lay prone on the desert floor Star Swirl found it hard to see where one ended and the other began.

Star Swirl followed the winding pathway silently for what seemed to him like hours, Womeluki watching him intently all the while, before he found what he was looking for. A small aberration, too strange and specific to be accidental. Behind his forehead, inside his skull between the sockets of the eyes, Star Swirl found a little scar where something had pierced into his mind, and he knew he had found the place she gained entry into his spirit.

He smiled. “Got you. Now to see where you are hiding.” Star Swirl touched his horn to the ghoul's forehead, pressing against the hidden scar. “Show me your secrets.”

The image flowed into his mind: a vision of death by fire for the whole world, of molten rock shooting forth from the bedrock like a fountain.

He saw her home, a land of jagged obsidian rising from the blazing ground, the sky thick with volcanic ash.

He heard the call, stretching out across the three continents, for every monster, every skulking and hateful thing, every killer of ponies and horses and zebras, to come to her side and join her, to await the coming of the last, greatest, war.

There was a vision of Saddle Arabia, and he knew it was her sight he was seeing, her thoughts and feelings: hatred and anger overwhelming, as she fixed her eyes on the royal palace, hungry for a vengeance long overdue...

One child for another, Khalif. One son for another.

The connection broke and Star Swirl fell back to the ground with a cry, his every muscle sore and weary.

Womeluki rushed to his side and took hold of him. “What is it? What did you see?”

“I saw...” He gulped, trying to process the memory into words. “I saw a glimpse of the Queen's mind, her rage, her... She felt betrayed. Her fury is...” He shuddered. “I think I saw the Queen's plan. She is summoning an army of monsters to her side, preparing to be unleashed. Utter destruction would follow in their wake.”

She whispered a curse. “We must return to the royal city at once and warn them! Come, get this old horse on his legs and we will be there by sundown. I only hope the Queen will not intercept us on the way.”

That won't get me in to see the Sun Stone, Star Swirl thought. “Wait,” he said, rising to his hooves. “I have another idea.”

“Whatever it is, we can discuss it later! Come, lend me a hoof here.”

“Listen, weaver!” he grabbed Womeluki by the shoulder and pulled her aside. “Look... It doesn't matter what the Khalif does. His forces can't beat the Queen no matter what. She can wait inside her lair and wither him like a raisin for as long as she pleases. The Khalif is in no mood to listen to either of us, and reinforcing his defenses won't help him. There is only one way to win. We take the battle to her. We defeat the Queen in her own lair, and finish the mission.”

Womeluki listened, but shook her head. “Even if such a thing were possible, we still can't get there. The way is sealed to us, and he cannot share the key.”

Star Swirl smiled confidently. “Leave it to me. We can still use this old horse. Even if he can't tell us the way, he can take us there himself.”

Womeluki only stared for a few seconds, then shook her head despondently. “He is old and frail and has suffered more than you can comprehend, unicorn. I should like to bring him back to the capital city, to search for his family. The priestesses of the temple could tend to his wounds and make him comfortable, if nothing else. If it were in my power, I would tear him from the Queen's bondage and set him free again. But you! You would use a beaten old slave for your own purposes?”

“I can defeat her,” Star Swirl said, “and then all her servants will be freed at once, and no creature will ever fall under her sway again. Is that not worth this one thing, Womeluki?”

Womeluki scowled at him. “We are here to save lives, Star Swirl. Not to gamble them against destruction.”

I am here for my mission. “I know I can win,” he said. “Are you with me?”

He could see her struggling with this decision, but in the end she nodded. “Very well, Star Swirl. I will trust in this path. I will trust you. I hope you do not make me regret it.”

“I won't.” Star Swirl turned to face the ghoul, still sitting on the sand, one hoof idly scratching at a stone. Steeling his nerve, he called up the burning magic that flowed through the ghoul's veins, and wrapped it around his own tongue. He looked the ghoul in the eyes, and said: “Take us to your lair.”

The ghoul nodded in mindless obedience.

He rose up on his hooves, turned three times around and stared towards the heart of the desert.

He spoke one word three times, in a language that was not Saddle Arabian.

And they were swept away on a road that only outcasts could tread.

– – –

When their journey ended – and Star Swirl did not know how long that journey had been, either in miles or in hours – they stood upon red stone, under a golden-reddened sky. Thunder and lightning crashed far in the distance from all directions, and they could not see past the swirling sands farther than they could throw a stone.

The ghoul walked resolutely forward, his lame leg dragging behind him, in a direction which seemed to them no different from any other. Nevertheless they followed, and before long the sands parted and showed them a great red mountain rising from the barren waste.

Womeluki poked Star Swirl and pointed to a nearby rock: they crouched behind the cover while they took in the sight before them.

“The heart of the desert,” Womeluki whispered. “Where dwells the Queen of Golden Sands. No mortal has seen this sight and lived to tell the tale.”

There was a huge cavern mouth at the foot of the mountain, a little distance up the rocks above them, taller than ten horses, and from where they stood they could not see a foot inside for the shadows. The rocky wall outside it was sheer and tall, and covered with jagged spikes of obsidian glass, pointing down or up as chance or nature commanded. Uneven rocks above formed ledges, and there looked like a multitude of open holes leading within rose up along the outer wall of the mountain, but no guards could be seen. No living thing stirred but the three of them.

Star Swirl felt a flush of victory flow through him at the sight. “This is good news! You see, weaver? The Queen never expected anypony to find her here, so there are no guards!” He grinned. “Now we just have to pick an out of the way entrance and we can slip inside undetected. We should probably avoid the front door though.”

“What do we do about him?” Womeluki asked, nodding at the mute ghoul. “I want to say say we should release him... but we'll need a way to get back when we are done.”

Star Swirl shook his head. “I won't be leaving the same way we came. Either the path will be open to me, unopposed by the Queen's magic, or I'll be defeated and killed.” He looked to his companion. “I won't ask you to go in with me. You could go with him, and take him to the royal city if you wish.”

Womeluki sighed, and shook her head. “I will follow you. We must do this together, Star Swirl. Send him away.”

Star Swirl nodded, and said with the Queen's magic: “Go back to your home. Look for what was lost to you.”

The ghoul stood aimless for a moment, and if his face showed any feeling it was a timeless sadness. Then, without a word, he turned away from the mountain and trotted out, limping, into the wilderness.

He left their sight soon after and Star Swirl never saw him again.

They crept out from their cover and moved silently forward, from rock to rock across the plain, trying to approach the mountain unseen.

They were within a stone's throw from it when the shadow passed them overhead.

Star Swirl looked up to see a great bird flying in a wide, slow circle, shrouded in the clouds. He stared at it for a moment, trying to identify it, and before long it looked down at him and turned around to prepare a dive.

Star Swirl realized how his eyes had deceived him as to exactly how great the bird was just as it let out an overpowering shriek that made the ground shiver and the pebbles dance at their hooves. The panic struck him as it dived, and grew, and grew, and grew in their sights until it covered the entire sky, and a black claw larger than Star Swirl snapped at him. It would have ripped right through him if Womeluki had not grabbed him and pulled him back into a crevice in the stone.

“Get down!” Womeluki cried, her voice hoarse.

“What is that?” Star Swirl asked, shouting to be heard over the crashing of the stone as the bird pounded on it.

“The Roc! The bird that carries grown elephants back to its nest to feed her young! Spinner preserve us, we should never have come here!”

The great raptor cried again, and with a single titanic blow the boulder above them exploded in all directions, sending jagged shards of stone cutting into the ground, leaving them exposed. The great black bird spread its wings and bent its neck to snatch one of them into its beak to sate its hunger.

There was a flash of lightning directly overhead, and the thunderclap caused the bird to freeze. It hesitated for a moment, then beat its great wings and rose. But before they could hope to run, Star Swirl and Womeluki were snatched up in huge talons, sharp points digging into their flesh. The ground fell away beneath them as they soared into the smoke-filled sky, and the air was pulled out of their lungs by the speed of their ascent.

It swiftly scaled the slope of the mountain soaring ever higher. The great bird finally perched by a hole in the rock that fell straight down. Here it let out another cry, and then dropped them down into darkness.

– – –

Shortly afterward, Star Swirl was deep inside the mountain.

They had been left in a dungeon in the dark, for a time he could not know: hours, perhaps a day. They had seen no other living thing, and there was no food or water.

It was beginning to get him down.

There was a creaking that made them stir.

“Something draws near,” Womeluki said. “Now we will learn what the Queen has in store for us. Banish fear and hold true to your purpose, Star Swirl.”

A stone door that blended seamlessly into the dungeon walls had slid open, and half a horse emerged from it.

It was the right half: one cloudy cataracted eye that was devoid of any semblance of will looked out at them beneath a ragged, stringy mane. It moved in little jumps on its two right legs, and when Star Swirl looked at it from its left side, he saw everything.

It was just as well that he had not eaten for a long time.

The half-horse ghoul led them slowly through the unlit, winding passages deep down into the mountain. Star Swirl remembered a diagram he had seen in a book of the inside of an anthill: the little mound of grains of sand and twig only the outermost sign of a structure that led deep into the earth.

“I shouldn't have brought you here,” Star Swirl whispered. “I should have done this alone.”

“We are in the place of greatest darkness,” Womeluki said. “All those who face true evil must pass this place. But we can make it through, and come out on the far side together, if we stay true to each other.”

Star Swirl made no response.

They felt it before they heard it: a strange humming that reverberated through the stone, and then a melody of pipes and strings, a haunting, mournful piece unlike any Star Swirl had heard played by ponies. It grew louder and clearer as they walked, until the cave opened into a great chamber and they saw the players.

The chamber was a great round cavern, lit red by torches and full of shadows. The cave emerged into it high above the floor, and they were led down a narrow catwalk along the outer wall, from where they could see a great assembly of monsters.

The musicians were a mismatched quartet of scales and fur and feathers who played upon a simple stage of stone at one end of the chamber, with an audience of wild things that had no home outside the shadows.

There were ghouls in large numbers. Some stood as guards along the walls while others moved among the assembly and served the others. There was a mother manticore, listening to the melody while her cubs feasted joyfully on the flesh of some poor creature, engirdled by her scorpion tail. There was a wizened centaur garbed in grey, cunning eyes peering out from thick bushy eyebrows over a long white beard, and beside him a beastly creature with bat-wings and black armor. There were jackals of shadows and withered leaves and creatures of colored smoke given form by tatters and trinkets.

There were gremlins and goblins skittering about ledges high up on the walls, and on ledges higher still nested harpies with wings of bronze and sharp teeth licking their lips for blood, and higher yet, at the very highest where none else dared to rise, the Roc watched hungrily from its perch upon an outcropping of stone, red eyes peering down from above a black beak.

All of them were united as one in listening, and their many voices formed a deep and powerful dirge that hummed along and made the rock shiver softly, as though the mountain as well were joining in.

The music reached its end, and the gathering turned its attention to the two intruders, led by the half-horse down towards the center of the hall.

There, in a ring of exquisitely detailed stone statues of frightened creatures, was the throne: a seat carved crudely out of black stone, at the top of a winding, uneven stair. In the dim fire-lit hall it was a tower of shadow, and if something sat upon it then Star Swirl could not see it clearly.

They passed several of the ghouls as they were led through the assembly, and Star Swirl saw them up close. Some were garbed and some were naked. Some of the garments were ancient, tattered and ragged from neglect, while others were still whole, though worn and dirty. But all of them – dozens of them, that Star Swirl saw, including some ponies among them – all of them had some deformity. Whether from birth or by the cruel tricks of the Queen, their bodies marked them as alien and monstrous.

All of them except one. Star Swirl raised an eyebrow. Ahead of them, looking exactly as Star Swirl had last seen him, was Mussadas ibn Hassan, the prince of Saddle Arabia. He sat at the foot of the winding stair, silent, unmoving, like a well-trained pet waiting upon his mistress's command.

The half-ghoul led them before the throne and spoke, and the sound was like a wet gurgling of lungs half-filled with insects: “Your eminence... We have captured these intruders.”

There was a movement upon the throne. It could have been another statue: so still and hard it seemed in the shadows that throne and occupant seemed carved from the same stone. But it shifted, opened its eyes – green, slitted pupils – and uncoiled, rose up to its full stature, and all about its head was snakes.

“What is this?” the Gorgon asked, the sibilants hanging in the air long after she finished speaking. “Outsiders have come to our palace. Who are they?”

“Spies from the Khalif,” said the centaur. “They have much meat on their bones. Let the manticore's cubs eat them.”

“Wanderers, lost in the desert,” said the jackal of leaves and shadows from the other side of the hall. “Let us tear them to shreds and make charms from their hides.”

“Saddle Arabians fallen to the whispers of the Queen,” said one head of a many-headed lizard. “Let us have them fight each other to the death, and if it pleases us the survivor may live.”

“We are emissaries from distant lands, come to make embassy,” Womeluki said loudly, calling out for all to hear. “Even among monsters, the rules of hospitality are respected, are they not?”

The Gorgon raised aloft a jagged scepter in one long, razor-clawed hand and the assembly fell silent. “Hospitality?” She frowned, baring her fangs. “You are paltry grazing mondani who have trespassed upon the domain of the immortals. The lion does not show hospitality to the gazelle. The punishment for your crime is death unending. But it begs the question... Just how did you find your way here?”

Womeluki was silent.

The Gorgon twisted in her seat, her body turning and turning and turning but her head not moving an inch. “No...? You will tell us before the end. You will beg us to listen. You will tell us all about who sent you, and who else is coming, and you will implore us to thrust your pain upon those you love most dear...”

Her voice was like a trickle of icy water on the back of Star Swirl's neck. He stepped forward. “We walked the Queen's pathways, aided by her own magic. We have come to speak to the ruler of this land, and you will find we are more interesting alive than dead.”

“The ruler of this land?” the Gorgon said. “That is well spoken. Welcome, dear guests, to the court of the true ruler of this land!”

Around them all the monsters roared, and hissed, and trilled, and played a strange and wistful music of shadows for this proclamation.

Hold true to your purpose. Star Swirl looked up at her as calmly as he could manage. “Are you the queen of this place?”

The snake-creature slithered down the steps from her seat, and her snake-hair hissed softly, like wind, as she moved. “You stand before Stheno, eldest of the Gorgons, and first among the Queen's followers. And you, little housebroken horse-spies, are her prisoners. So what are you...?”

She pointed her scepter at Womeluki. “Zebra... worshiper of the spider...” She smiled, her eyes glimmering with amusement. “She carries venom with her... but she has no power of her own.”

“Perhaps, if you test me, you will learn otherwise,” Womeluki said.

“In time, you will share everything with us. Our guests always do.” The Gorgon turned to Star Swirl and smiled. “A circus clown has come to us! Perhaps if he amuses us he will live, no? At least a little while.”

“I am not a clown,” Star Swirl replied. “And we are not spies from the Khalif. I am a unicorn wizard, and I hold the secrets of the arcane in my sway.”

The Gorgon sniffed. “Ponies... Full of parlor tricks for the amusement of cubs and hatchlings. You know nothing of true magic, unicorn.”

Star Swirl raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps you do not know as much as you think about ponies.”

The Gorgon looked down at him dispassionately. “What is unicorn magic? A trickle of water that drips through cracks in a vast stone dam, and you think because you have tasted a drop of it that you are the ocean. We are the ocean, unicorn. We are the wanderers, the sailors, the witnesses, the ones who walk between the boundaries and see the world for what it is, and for this we are cursed.”

Her voice grew stronger as she spoke, and all the court rose up to listen. “Yes, we are cursed! All of us as one are punished, not for our crimes, but for our nature! Once we stood tall and proud, but now we must skulk and linger in the shadows, for there is not a one of us that the horses would not kill if they could. But here!” She spread her arms, taking in the full assembly around her. “This is a free place, a place of sanctuary. All creatures yearning to be free can come to us!”

All around them the monsters muttered their agreement, their encouragement. They listened reverently to her tale, and in their eyes Star Swirl could see them coming together as one.

“We are the rejected ones... Every exile from your precious civilization. Every outcast, every pariah, is welcome here. Those who are cursed by the powers of light and order, reduced to scavenge in the wilds. Those who are left to die.” The gallery erupted into calls of fury, of revenge, and pledges of fealty to the Queen. Stheno raised her arms, holding the scepter aloft to receive and mark their cries.

“The horses destroyed my bloodline. They destroyed my family. They killed my sister in cold blood. When I was lost and alone, the Queen sheltered me and cleaned my wounds. The Queen understands. The Queen of Golden Sands welcomes all into her service.”

“Monsters and destroyers,” Womeluki said. She raised a hoof and pointed to the half-horse. “Look there, Gorgon. Look there, all of you! Look upon the ghûl and see what welcome the Queen would give to those who come to her. That is your sanctuary and your freedom.”

“The zebra believes we should divide ourselves, and sue the grazers for peace,” the Gorgon said, and was met with bitter laughter from the court. “Your people have made war upon us since time beyond memory. You hunted us down and destroyed us one by one. But we are no longer divided. Now we join together under the Queen's banner, and when the time comes all your nations will crumble.”

Womeluki shook her head. “You care nothing for the powerless. Your queen is just another tyrant, holding those weaker than her in bondage, and you are a sword for her to wield as she chooses. Nothing more.”

Here Star Swirl interrupted the exchange. “You have raised an army of monsters, ready to march out to destroy the world,” he said. “The ghoul attacks in the desert, claiming the Khalif's son... You are testing Saddle Arabia's defenses. You are preparing to strike.”

The Gorgon smiled, and her smile was true and full of faith. “The Queen has shown me a vision,” she whispered in jubilant awe. “Your time is running out, little pony. You have no idea what is coming for you...”

“The day will someday come when all things fall,” Womeluki said. “I do not think it is coming anytime soon.”

“Not the day,” the Gorgon said, grinning. “The night. A night comes that has no ending, when the sun will hide in fear and we who stand in the dark will rule all.”

Star Swirl sighed, and shook his head. “This army is more powerful than anything the Khalif can command. He will not be able to stop you.”

“The unicorn understands,” the Gorgon said.

“Yes,” Star Swirl said, stepping forward. “I wish to speak to the Queen. I want to negotiate entering into her service.”

“What?” Womeluki blurted out.

“Negotiate...?” The Gorgon narrowed her eyes. “What do you think you can offer to the Queen, little pony?”

“Do not let your petty prejudice blind you, gorgon. My magic is powerful, and unlike any in Saddle Arabia.” Star Swirl continued moving forward. “I will lend it to her. I will give her the Khalif. I will help her destroy Saddle Arabia. But in return I want a boon.”

“A boon?” the Gorgon asked, grinning. “What is it that you want, little unicorn?”

“I've wasted enough time arguing with servants,” Star Swirl said firmly. “I will discuss the matter with your Queen. She will decide.”

“We said we would work together, Star Swirl!” Womeluki cried. “Don't do this! There will be no turning back!”

“I am no friend to the Khalif, zebra,” Star Swirl said quietly. “I warned you not to come with me here. I am going to complete my mission, no matter what it takes.”

Womeluki watched him silently, her mouth hanging open. She fell to her knees, defeated. “I cannot believe you, Star Swirl...”

Star Swirl sighed, turning away. “It was always going to end this way, Womeluki.”

All the court watched silently. The Gorgon looked mirthlessly down upon the broken zebra. “I know this suffering... This is how I felt when I saw my sister defiled in her home. To watch all that you hope for, all your dreams for the future, burn to the ground... We are not without mercy, zebra. Your pain will end quickly. Take her to the dungeons.”

She slithered back to the foot of the stair, where the prince still sat watching and unable to react, and turned to Star Swirl. Behind him the ghouls were leading Womeluki away.

“Come with me, unicorn.”

Behind the throne, at the very back of the hall, was a great door of stone. At the Gorgon's approach it opened, and she gestured for him to step inside.

Once he set his last hoof beyond the threshold the gate was closed and locked behind him, and he was left alone in the burning heart of the mountain.

– – –

The inner sanctum of the Queen of Golden Sands was a cave of riches and wonders that stunned the unicorn to silence. There were gold and jewels and trinkets, figurines and suits of armor, coins and nuggets and sigils.

It would make an elder dragon weep, yet it was all covered in the dust of aeons, seemingly forgotten where it had been left, in towering piles that were as unsteady as they were vast.

He stepped gingerly between the mountains of coin, and he heard her speaking in his head.

“You come to me at last,” she said, the voice hard and sharp and weathered. “I knew you would. No creature can resist the call of the desert.”

Star Swirl froze, looked around him to try to see her, but saw nothing but the cave and all its treasures. I have to see this through. For the Princess. “O great Queen... We must speak together.”

“I heard your words to Stheno,” her voice replied. “You wish to negotiate? Do you think me some little merchant, to bargain and haggle with me?”

“It could be? Your... collection is most impressive.” Star Swirl moved slowly across the stone floor, gingerly moving from one clear spot to another, as if touching anything would call a curse down upon him.

“Treasure,” the voice whispered from behind him, though when he turned there was nothing there but a green gemstone that reflected his own face, warped and distorted. “Offerings, sacrifices, bribes... all of it is worthless.”

There were magical items there too: a carpet, kept rolled together with leather string, waited for an owner to command it. A solid gold urn taller than the unicorn stood in a corner. An oil lamp promised everything you could wish for, and everything you did not, to anypony willing to pick it up and restore its long-gone luster.

“Worthless?” Star Swirl asked. “Surely with such great wealth you could get anything you desire. Everything is for sale in Saddle Arabia.”

“There is nothing the horses of Saddle Arabia possess that holds any value. Their lives are worthless and meaningless.”

A gold locket with a silver chain lay on the floor, opened to show the dusty remains of what had once been the picture of a loved one.

“They build their little houses in the sand... they squabble over petty nothings... they drive out everything they do not understand, and they hate and fear everything different than themselves.”

The voice hissed in the sound of a shower of coins falling like sands as a buildup of gold fell beside him. “They thought they could bribe me, as though I were some dragon. As though I were some petty creature born of greed... as if I were one of them, those wretched little horses who spill their blood in the sands for coin.”

Silently he stepped between and around the piles, straining his ears to find the source of the voice. “They will burn. They will all burn.”

He froze when he saw it. Ahead of him there was one treasure that was not neglected, alone in all the vault, but which had clearly received much careful and deliberate attention. “But you, little darkling...”

Set aside from all the other treasures there was a little metal cage with many bars, and the cage was held in place by many chains.

“You are not like them. I saw you as you crossed my land. I looked into your heart, and I saw the darkness waiting there, and I knew.”

The chains were engraved with runes of binding in malice, and enchanted with burden and sorrow. They were anchored in hooks that ran deep into the rock beneath, so that they would never come free until the whole mountain crumbled.

“I knew you would find your way to me, because you know. You know that there will come a time when the sun sets, and never rises.”

Star Swirl leaned close to peer through the bars, and saw a shard of shell, burning and glimmering in many colors. A ghost of a cry echoed in his ear, ancient and heavy with grief.

“You would like that, wouldn't you, little darkling unicorn...?” She chuckled. “Such a ghûl you will make.”

He pulled back from the cage, her voice sending shivers down his spine that shook him to his core. “You are not only a voice,” Star Swirl said. “What creature are you really? Show yourself!”

The voice laughed, and the piles of treasure shook, spilling coins and gemstones onto the stone floor. “You wish to know what I am, little pony? You wish to see your Queen?”

The ground shook, and quaked, and bursts of fire rose from the cracks. The stones began to fall away beneath Star Swirl, and he stumbled backwards: a great pit was forming in the center of the treasure hall, and the treasures fell haphazardly into it. It expanded until it formed a great, deep circle, too dark to see the bottom.

“I am the Mared,” her voice said, cutting through the rumbling of crashing stone. “Older and greater than the Djinn and the Efreet, the wisest and most powerful of the true daughters of the flame. I am the Queen of the Golden Sands. Look upon your mistress, little pony, and rejoice.”

And Star Swirl saw her at last.

The creature that rose up before him was vast and chaotic, a mismatched creature of countless forms, bound together in a primordial forge, and the veins beneath her skin glowed with molten gold. Her face was as a scaly ewe, and her horns were feathered and uneven. Her left arm was a dragon's claw and her right a minotaur's hand. Her body was scaly, feathered, and furred all in patches of different colors, and it snaked down out of sight into the pit from which she had emerged. She was vast, and Star Swirl was barely as big as her muzzle.

“You're a Draconequus,” Star Swirl said breathlessly. “Like Discord.”

The Queen narrowed her glare, and Star Swirl felt the hairs on his muzzle char and sear. “Do not presume to think you can know us, little grazer.”

But he was already deep in thought.

“You took the Khalif's son,” Star Swirl said. “The vision I saw it in the ghoul's mind – one child for another.” He gasped as he understood it at last. “This is all for him, isn't it? All your anger, all your hate, all of it is because of your lost son?”

Her claws scraped through the stone with a sound of wrenching metal, and Star Swirl could feel the burning heat shifting under her skin. “You dare think you understand your betters? You are bold, little pony, to speak to your queen thus…!” She growled, and the sound was like great trees being ripped and torn by some giant. “Perhaps I will just eat you right now...”

Star Swirl gulped. “I want to understand,” he said, his mind racing. “I saw your followers in the court. The Saddle Arabians think you are nothing but forces of mindless destruction. But their blindness will be their downfall... You have built a nation, great queen. I want to understand what drives you.”

Her eyes burned into him. Moments passed by in silence, except for the pulsing of his heart, and the soft rumble of distant churning magma far beneath the earth.

“We had a treaty, once,” the Queen said. “The leader of the horses dared come into my home, and asked me for peace between the eternals and the grazers. His courage impressed me. I humored him, and let him live. I gave him his deal, and let him build his kingdom in the sand. I cared nothing for his gold, but to have grazers living beside me, who were bound by treaty not to make war upon us... that was a valuable thing. But they cannot keep to their word. In their greed they seized more than they had bargained for. And my son...” The fury in her voice as she spoke the words could turn the stones to dust. “My mad, foolish, beautiful son, who left me and was imprisoned in stone in a far-away land. When I demanded he be returned to me... they did not listen.”

Her claw and her talon sank into the rock, gripping so hard they changed color. Her voice too was cracked with passions. “That was the tipping point. For too long have I waited. Too long have I watched the grazers defy my will. The Khalif will feel my pain. They will all feel it to their deaths.”

“But why now?” Star Swirl asked. “I do not doubt your fury. I saw the Khalif's despair at losing his son. It threatened to destroy him. But your son was defeated a long time ago. Why are you mustering your army now? What is happening?”

The Mared smirked, her eyes full of secrets. “A new age is coming, little pony. I have seen the signs as much as you. Your world will soon come crashing down, and when it does I will claim my own in the new order. No longer will you filthy, greedy, shallow, cowardly little equines pollute my lands! All will be glorious and pure in flame.”

Star Swirl felt a shudder run through him, and bit down on the inside of his cheek to focus himself. This is my mission. I must see it through. “Well then, your highness... I think we can help each other. I want to make a deal with you.”

She looked down at him dispassionately. “What do you think you can offer me that I cannot take for myself, should I wish it?”

“I saw your ghouls out there, in your assembly,” Star Swirl said. “You have many different kinds of servants, but I saw no unicorns among them. There are few unicorns in this land, fewer still that are learned and trained in magic. Unicorn wizards are strong-minded by nature, and you, o Queen, draw the weak-minded to you... Your magic is powerful, but there is much that a strong unicorn sorcerer could do for you. And besides...” He smiled knowingly. “You want me. Admit it. You've been hoping to snare me since I set out with the caravan, haven't you? Well.” He raised a hoof to her. “This is your chance. I want to trade, interest for interest, knowledge for knowledge, power for power. I will give you unicorn magic, if you will teach me the ways of your ghouls.”

For a moment she was still, deep in thought. When she spoke her words were quick and blunt. “I want my son returned to me. He is trapped in the lands of ponies. You will go there and you will set him free. I want him back. I will have him back.”

The mountain shook beneath his hooves in answer to her voice. Star Swirl nodded. “Very well. I am welcome in Everhold, and can go straight to your son. If that is what you want from the lands of ponies, then so be it. But those lands are not your realm, and I do not think you care about them one way or the other. If I bring back your son, I want safety for my homeland, and for the zebra's homeland.”

The Queen's eyes narrowed. “Why do you care for her? She has cursed your friendship and your name.”

“I know. But she helped me in good faith. She came here seeking to save her homeland from a vision of the future. She helped me so that I could help her. I would like to keep my promise. The far reaches of Zebrica are a long way from Saddle Arabia.”

“There will be no safe places when the world is torn asunder,” the Queen said. “Whether I will it or no, your lands will fall... But I can leave your home, and hers, to meet their doom at other hands. But there is something burning in your mind, little pony. I can see it: something you desire with a great and terrible urge, and you are bending all your wits to put me in mind to say 'I care not'. What is it that you want so much that you are trying to hide it, little darkling?”

Star Swirl froze, and drew a deep breath. He raised his head and looked her dead in the eyes. “I want this: that when the Khalif falls, and his palace is torn open, I will have the first pick of the treasure.”

Her eyes narrowed, frowning. “So there is some artifact of great power within, and you, little traitor, wish me to give it to you. Why should I not take this artifact for myself when I rule over the Khalif's palace and have all his treasures in my reach?”

“You have all the treasures anyone could hope for already, and they do not make you happy,” he said, glancing around him. “This is important to me, and I am willing to pay the price. As you say... I desire this greatly. I think you understand.”

Her lips slowly curled into a wry smile. “So like the rest of them. All along, you were driven by greed. So easily bought.”

Star Swirl shrugged, but the motion came hard, tense as he was before the creature. “I have a mission to complete. Listen, o Queen, I don't care about Saddle Arabia. Together we can crush the Khalif, and you will rule this land unchallenged... and you will have your son returned to you. Do we have an agreement?”

She licked her lips with her snake-like tongue. “Agreed.”

The Queen spoke a syllable that pony language cannot adequately transcribe, and Star Swirl became aware of a red glow beneath him. He looked down to see a writhing eldritch sigil upon the rock, and beside it a knife of jagged black stone. “Is that...?”

“Cut your hoof and press it against the sigil,” the Queen commanded, “and our deal is done.”

Star Swirl frowned. “What does it say?”

“Only what we have discussed,” the Queen replied lazily. “Your magic will belong to me. In return, you will receive your due.”

Star Swirl hesitated, then nodded.

He raised the knife in his grip, looked it over once with nervous eyes, and brought it to the frog of his hoof.

He closed his eyes and hissed as it cut into his flesh and the blood began to flow, dripping on the stone.

The Queen watched him hungrily, her eyes burning and focused, as he pressed his bloody hoof against the sigil. It crackled and burned for a moment, and then was gone.

His hoof stung, but after seconds the pain faded. When he looked under it again it was whole and unscarred, and he knew the magic of the ghûl was inside him.

He nodded his head. “It's done.”

“Excellent. Now away with these.” The Queen slashed at him with a claw that moved faster than his eyes could see – a spurt of blood flew from his throat and when he looked down he was naked, stripped of his protections, and he gasped as the full heat of the desert struck him once again.

His hat and robe hung on the Queen's claws, held up for her study. “You are a clever little colt... In some ways. This enchantment is elegant and skillful. But you were foolish to try to deceive me with this.” She glared down at him with cruel triumph in her eyes. “Did you think you could hide your treachery from me? Or that you could protect yourself from my will with this?”

Star Swirl gasped, struggled to speak but his throat burned.

“Silence!” the Queen roared. “Foolish colt. I saw you skulking in the desert, attempting to hide your mind from my sight. But nothing is permitted to hide from me in my realm.”

Star Swirl clenched his teeth. “We made a deal, Queen. This was not part of—”

“I have seen what comes from bargaining with your kind,” the Queen spat. “For centuries I obeyed the terms of the compact, until my son left me. Your Princesses took him from me, and when I invoked the compact to see him returned to me – Nothing. I saw what your bonds of friendship meant to you then. It was foolish of you to think you could trick me. In another land, far from my home, as they tricked my son... but not here. This land belongs to me, and obeys my will, and...” She threw the garments away and bent down to look into the unicorn's eyes. “Now that you have surrendered yourself to me, and I have seen through your ruse and taken away your little protections, so do you.”

Their eyes met and Star Swirl felt her will forcing its way into his mind.

It felt entirely unlike the unicorn magic he knew so well. It latched onto his forehead, just under his horn, and burrowed into him like some monstrous magical tick. He was linked to her, and felt her commands flowing into him, telling him to forget all the terms he had bargained, to surrender unconditionally to his rightful mistress.

“You are a cunning little devil,” she chuckled. “Your power will serve me well in my arsenal. As a ghûl you will be unstoppable. Cities will fall before you. Nations will tremble at your approach. You will be a killer of horses...”

She froze.

Slowly, Star Swirl smiled.

“The Mared are the oldest and most powerful of the spirits of this land... and also the most arrogant,” he said, and when their eyes met he was smiling triumphantly, his horn glowing bright with focus, dappled black and white. “When I was only ten, I let an alicorn princess step into my mind. I could see the path of the magic clearly, glowing before my eyes, linking her mind to mine. By accident, as a willful foal, I peered inside her mind and held her magics as my own, and she could not hold me out... And she is far more powerful than you.”

In his mouth there glimmered a warding sigil, and his voice was clear and strong.

The Queen tried to seize him in her claw and crush him to death, but her limbs would not obey her. They were locked in place more firmly than any chains or rope had ever done. Her eyes widened in panic as she felt Star Swirl push his way into her thoughts. She could not scream as he began to pull her secrets from her mind.

“I saw the roots you left in the desert skies. I heard your voice on the wind, and saw what you did to the minds of your slaves. I saw how you did it, and erected a shield in my mind to stop you. I came here well-prepared, o Queen, and you never stood a chance.” With a jingle, his robe swept over his back and clasped itself around his neck and his hat took its place on his head. He smiled. “There. Now, tell me what you know.”

In her mind he saw every secret path she had carved across the sands, the hidden channels where her magic flowed. He saw every trap to destroy unwary travelers, and every hidden hole where bandits waited and violence could thrive. He saw the intricate magical machinery of her mountain fortress, rising from deep beneath the earth. He saw how she controlled it all, and how he could shut it all down.

He saw the veins of magic reaching across the miles into the minds of all her blood magi slaves. He saw the deep pool of magic that predated the first horse to enter Saddle Arabia: raw and untamed mastery of life itself, the power to command the flesh and the blood in his veins, to spawn monsters to corrupt and command mortals.

He saw the full count of her slaves scattered across the land, waiting for her command. From each of them ran a cord that stretched all the way back to her. He saw how she used it to carry her commands, to keep their wills bound, how she slowly drained them of mortal life to sustain herself, keep herself rich and strong.

He saw how he could sever them all with a thought.

“Now I will take all your knowledge, all your secrets, and I will cry them out on the winds and the waves for everyone to see,” Star Swirl told her, “and then you can never use them to gain power over any creature ever again.”

He reached deep and began to draw that power into himself. He felt himself grow stronger as it surged through his veins. Black lightning crackled around his horn. His vision deepened and reddened. With this power he felt he could sink the desert under the ocean...

“This is not possible,” the Mared whispered. “This is not the magic of ponies. What are you, little monster?”

“I'm Star Swirl,” the unicorn said, “and there is nothing else like me.”

With that, he cut off the flow of magic and threw her back into the pit as she screamed. Already her flesh was shriveling up and cracking, the flow of nurturing magic from her slaves cut off.

Star Swirl watched her disappear from his sight down into the black hole, and she was gone.

– – –

There was silence.

Star Swirl felt the power flow through him as he looked down into the pit. It churned and seethed and felt like a swarm of insects crawling inside of him, but already he could feel it settling into place. It would come to accept him as its new master soon enough.

It was a power unlike anything he had known, greater than any ever wielded by a unicorn. All his.

He was a hero.

He was a savior.

He was like a god, and deserved a god's tribute.

He looked around the great cavern where the Queen had lingered, where she had thrown the great treasures of the earth helter-skelter and let them lie, all ignored and all forgotten.

All but one.

There was the cage, the one thing the Queen had not let lie, the one thing she had wanted to keep locked away forever, never again to see the light of day.

He trotted up to it and studied it once again. He could not see what was inside, but he could feel it waiting for him.

Slowly, meticulously, Star Swirl set about tearing the cage open. He ungraved the runes one by one, unwove the enchantments, and set about ripping the metal open one deep bar at a time.

The chains would not budge. Deep within the earth they were anchored, and even his power seemed hesitant to loosen them.

The sound of someone calling his name pulled him out of his reverie and made him leave the cage behind. He followed the sound back towards the entrance of the cave, where the stone gate still stood barred and unmoving. Through it he heard a muffled voice shouting his name, and a hoof pounding on the stone.

“Womeluki?” he called out in answer. “Is that you?”

The gate was massive, and thick with magic. The mountain, Star Swirl knew now, was held together more by magic than by stone, and the innermost sanctum of the Queen was warded against intrusion by any she did not want there. “Open!” he yelled at the door, and it jolted like a guard woken from sleeping on his watch, but did not budge. “I said open!”

The power burned inside him, and he channeled all of it he could command to rip the gate from its post and throw it aside.

It tilted ever so slightly in its fittings and jammed, accompanied by the sound of screaming metal, never to move again. “Star Swirl?” Womeluki's voice said more clearly. “Are you alive?”

A sliver of a gap had opened by one side of the gate, through which he heard her voice, and the sound of distant battle, but he could see nothing. “Womeluki, I'm here! Everything is fine! Everything is wonderful!” He giggled involuntarily at a high pitch before remembering himself. “Are you alright?”

“I am very far from all right, Star Swirl,” she yelled. Her voice was ragged and mad. “You traitor... I trusted you, Star Swirl! I trusted you, I helped you, and you lied to me and you used me and you left me to die!”

“It had to be convincing,” Star Swirl said. “I had every confidence in your ability to handle yourself.”

“You have no idea what it was like,” Womeluki said. “The ghûl... they broke free from their bindings. They went mad, Star Swirl, all of them as one, they screamed in agony and fear and hate! Then the fighting began... The monsters... half of everyone is dead, Star Swirl! It's a bloodbath out here!” There was a thump as Womeluki thrust herself against the doorway. He heard her panting, panicked breath rushing in and out, her voice cracked. “I tried to face the Gorgon... She has killed so many, and I would gladly die if it would stop her... but she vanished. The Roc swept down upon us and – she's gone. She is gone, and her court has broken and all the monsters have fled into the darkness, to find some new lair.”

“Listen, Womeluki,” Star Swirl shouted into the crack. “We're done here, we can go back now. I just need you to help me open this door!”

He squealed and jumped back as a spider skittered out from the crack not an inch away from his snout, followed by another, and soon a steady stream of them. Dozens, they spread out and began to spin a web together in all haste. Star Swirl stepped back, and before his eyes a web the size of a pony took form, wet silk shimmering in strange colors in the dim light of volcanic fire.

Womeluki looked at him through the web, and he took a step back. Her hood was torn from her head, her robes ripped long open, and he saw her clearly for the first time.

She was stained and bloody. Her ear was torn, as though an earring had been ripped out. She wore gold rings around her neck and her ankles, and they were splattered red and dusty. Her eyes were tired and uncertain.

“Womeluki! It worked!” Star Swirl cried and grinned at the image in the web. “It's over! The Queen is dead!”

Womeluki did not look pleased at this news. Her frown turned to a deep sadness, her head shaking, as she looked on the unicorn. “Oh no... Oh Star Swirl, what have you done?”

“What did I do? I won!” Star Swirl boasted. “I destroyed her and took her power for my own, and once I get out of here I'm going to use it to make everything better. Stars above, Womeluki, you have no idea what this feels like. I can remake everything. I can shape this land as I please! I can control minds and bodies! I can—”

“Be a king?” Womeluki asked sharply. “Crush those who displease you beneath your hoof? Rip ponies and horses in twain to please you, so you can study their insides more closely? Oh Great Spinner, I see it now...” her voice was low, her head shaking. “At long last I see what the darkness in your heart holds... It was you, Star Swirl. All along, it was you. I was so wrong. This is what the Great Spinner wanted me to see. This is the great upheaval that comes to usher chaos into our lands. It was never her, Star Swirl. It was you.”

Red fire billowed up behind his eyes. He clenched his teeth together in anger. “You foolish – you stand in the middle of the desert and curse the darkness! This is why you lost, witch! So caught up in your tribal dogma you can't see that dark magic can be used for good or evil, just like anything else! Darkness is no more evil than light! There is no difference!”

“That is exactly where the evil lies,” Womeluki said. “The ghûl... the ones that survived are coming to their senses. The prince is unharmed, and I will try to lead them to safety. You have begun an age of war this day, wizard... It will consume Saddle Arabia and Zebrica alike, and I will fight it for the rest of my life.”

She stepped back and turned away, her head hung low. “Fare well, Star Swirl. May your spirit find peace among your ancestors.”

“Hey!” Star Swirl cried. “I'm not dead, you know!”

“Yes you are. You just haven't noticed yet.”

The image disappeared, and the web turned dry as dust and shriveled into nothing.

On the other side of the wall Womeluki turned and walked away, leaving the sealed door behind her.

Star Swirl pushed and kicked at it. “Come on, you damned thing, open!”

That is when he heard the guttural laughing growl coming up from the pit behind him. “Oh no...”

“You cannot kill me,” the ghostly voice of the Queen whispered to him. “You belong to me still, wizard. I will kill you now, and feast upon your magic, even if I have to tear down my palace on your head. You will never leave this place.”

The ground shook harder and harder. He looked down. He could feel it: below the surface, the rock beneath his feet was crumbling, liquefying. Pustules of stone formed on the walls and burst in flows of lava, burning every treasure that would not melt. Noxious fumes burst forth from cracks, black smoke rising from the molten core beneath...

As the rock melted, the chains around the cage finally came loose.

The volcano erupted, and the rock tore open beneath him, and the cage burst open in a blinding flash of light.

There was a cry of freedom that deafened him, and red wings stretching from horizon to horizon, and sunlight shone down from above as the world exploded underneath him.

And all else was silence as the firebird returned to the world, and turned to light and ashes.

– – –

When he returned to his senses, Star Swirl was flying.

His mind was dull and his ears rang from the colossal blast of the eruption. His eyes stung from the whipping wind and his hooves were burning.

Almost by instinct he raised a shield spell in a tight bubble around himself, and his eyes were able to focus. His mouth fell open at what he saw.

He was in the sky. He could see where the blue of the heavens ended, replaced with the black of the outside, and the planets and the comets and the stars. He was among them.

Beneath him, or behind him, was a hunk of volcanic rock hurtling through the air faster than any bird or pegasus or griffon could fly, and he flew with it, held upon it not by gravity but by the force of its motion, and only his shield kept him from being crushed to death. But those were only body things and did not matter, because he was as high above the earth as any unicorn had ever been and he could see the desert as no mortal had ever done, stretched out beneath him like a map and he was flying. He was flying and he was triumphant and he was the sky and he saw...

Saddle Arabia and its desert lay naked before him. He saw it as the Queen had seen it, a vast land full of powers and secrets laid bare and ready to hear his command. Magic ran like blood through a vast branching network of channels, invisible to most and impossible to read from the ground, but from up there he could see its every intricate detail, every route and pathway a line of light for him to trace.

Beneath him, from all the cities and the oases of Saddle Arabia, all things with eyes to see looked up and saw a blazing rocket move across the heavens.

There were two kinds of magic, two webs laid on top of one another. There was the burning magic of the Queen – his, now, obedient to him and awaiting his command, reaching out from the volcano behind him that was even then fading from existence, melting away into the aether, and that magic traced the hidden paths of the ghûl, enforcing death and ruin along its course.

Then there was the other magic, the magic of water and life, the gentle breeze and safety of the oasis, along which Rehalet Tawyla and Rehalet Amina led their caravans. Those roads led along every living town and village, and all of them traced back, growing stronger as they went, to Fuors Al-Thahabi, the capital city.

There was a fountain of light arcing outwards from the center of the palace, rising up into the heavens, and Star Swirl knew his goal was finally within his grasp.

Nearby, one of the Khalif's beams of light flowed across the land like a river in the heavens. With a thought Star Swirl tugged on it, bringing his own trajectory parallel to it.

Satisfied, he let the rock carry him back to its source.

His satisfaction lasted until he reached the top of the arc, and began to float, and fall, whereupon he returned to mortal thoughts once more.

Think, Star Swirl. You're falling to your death, and you haven't fulfilled your mission yet.

What about the shield spell? No. It won't protect me from the fall, it will just direct the force of the impact to my horn and crush my head.

Think back to Magical Physics at Cambridle. Can I redirect the force of the impact somewhere else? Can I fling myself off the rock without preserving my momentum just before impact? Can I learn to fly under my own power within the next few seconds?

Well, babies can do it so why not me?

Come on, Star Swirl, think. You're standing on a boulder of volcanic rock. You can grab it and levitate it, but you can only move it in relation to your own anchored point.

I'm not really anchored. I'm moving through the air at the same velocity as the rock.

If we are standing still relative to each other... or almost still... it's like moving something that's just lying there. But that doesn't help me. I need to actually stand still, preferably without crushing deceleration first.

Is being still in moving space the same as moving through still space? My shield is standing still relative to the anchor point, myself, and to the nearest massive body, the rock.

...Could I move the anchored point itself? Why am I my anchored point in the first place?

If I can move my anchored point to the rock... then I can levitate myself around it. If I can self-levitate, then I can let the rock absorb the impact while I just hover.

If I can make a construct in the Weave along my trajectory, I can curve the space of force and move in a straight line through it. I will still be moving at terminal velocity. But if I can move in any direction... I can shift my momentum upward, and let gravity slow me down?

Experiments have shown that if the anchored point is altered, the levitated object remains the same. If I am the levitated object, rather than the anchored point...

The dome of the royal palace rushed up to meet him. Well, time to try out the theory.

– – –

When Star Swirl came to he was lying upside-down in a corner, and every inch of his body was screaming at him.

He was alive.

“The theory needs work,” he muttered to himself, and fell over sideways.

He opened his eyes and saw golden treasures everywhere, in a chamber of green jade stone. For a moment he thought he was back in the Mared's lair, but a quick glance around showed otherwise.

He took in his surroundings. The hunk of volcanic rock which had carried him across the sky lay shattered and scattered all over the floor, surrounded by shards of white marble and green jade and woodwork from the hole in the ceiling where he had made impact. Then there were the treasures.

The thought took a moment to fully penetrate his consciousness.

He had crashed through the roof and landed inside the Khalif's vault of riches.

After seeing the Mared's treasure store he did not think anything could surpass it, but he had to admit the Khalif came close. Unlike the Queen's mounds of gold and jewels the treasures here were meticulously ordered, polished to a blinding gleam and glitter, carefully counted out in stacks. There were coins of a dozen different currencies carefully arranged and numbered. There were scrupulous silver scales, fine-haired brushes and a dizzying array of arcane tools set in boxes lined with black velvet. There were finely sculpted works of art on pedestals and in glass boxes labeled with plaques like in a museum.

But beyond all of that was the one thing that mattered.

In front of him, in the center of the room, was a great square plateau hung round with black drapes, hung from a golden frame. It practically hummed, so strong was the magical power emanating from it.

This is it.

Before Star Swirl knew his own thoughts he was trotting towards it, each hoof-fall gentle and silent. He was holding his breath. Sewn into the black covers were words in many different languages, but he found that their meaning was clear, and spoke to him without the need for conscious thought.

“Such that everything it touches shall be as gold,” he recited to himself. “And it shall be the foundation of your realm, and the keystone of your power. And its name is...”

And next there was a character that could be translated in many different ways: Crossroads, or Commerce, or Trade. Wealth, or Prosperity, or Gain. Contract, or Stock, or Bond.

Bond. That was a good one.

I did it. I reached the Sun Stone.

I completed the mission.

Star Swirl forced himself to be patient for a while as he studied the engravings on the frame and the rich embroidery on the thick black cloth that concealed it, as if to give due reverence to the moment. Then he pulled them aside and saw the pedestal upon which rested the Sun Stone.

He silently walked around it, observing it from all sides. It was an orb of solid gold, lying on a white velvet pillow with gold thread embroidered all around. Ripples of soft magic light shimmered across its surface, pearlescent, like waves of water pushing up on a sandy beach before withdrawing.

The ripples billowed as he stepped up to look at it, and Star Swirl suddenly felt that it was alive, and that he was intruding.

“Hello,” Star Swirl said to the artifact, and the ripples shifted as he spoke, as if to acknowledge his presence. “We meet at last... I had quite a bit of trouble getting in to see you.”

The Sun Stone shone, and perhaps the shine was its version of a yes, or a no, or perhaps it was nothing at all. Star Swirl felt certain that if it wanted to, it could tell him its opinion perfectly clearly, and the uncertainty irked him.

“Well, we're here now,” he muttered. “You're safe. Whatever the Queen was doing to you is finished. If she hurt you, time should heal your wounds. But still... having come all this way... Allow me to examine you.”

It did not respond. He quietly drew a breath, and called his magic forth to envelop it.

Though it could not move, it seemed to recoil at the sensation, the magic pulling inward to defend itself.

Star Swirl frowned. “Very sensitive to outside corruption. As I expected. But you are surrounded by protections... What happened to you? Show me.”

The shimmering light warped and curled where he touched it. It was held as sacred, Star Swirl knew, and presumed it unaccustomed to being so handled, gentle though he was. But he could see no sign of injury. It was pristine and pure all the way across, with no taint or impediment anywhere in its core. Only along the surface was there a slight pressure of something different. Something dark, and charred, and ashen.

He grinned grimly, his teeth clenched together. “Found you,” he muttered, and studied the impression. Where it pressed against the orb, the light withered and tarnished.

He saw it clearly, and having identified it, he began to pinpoint its flow, to follow it back to its source...

He traced the magic until he saw that it was rooted in his own horn.

“Ah... horseapples.”

The sound of a lock clicking and the swish of bars quickly being pulled aside were the only warning before the doors to the chamber slammed open, and a host of soldiers stormed in, weapons held ready, making the stone floor rumble beneath them.

The Sphinx flew in the high door, flapping her huge wings and scowling in warlike anger. “Who dares invade the palace of the Khalif?!” she roared. “Who dares intrude upon the holy of holies?”

Though she spoke Saddle Arabian, Star Swirl was intrigued to find that he could understand her.

The Khalif stood in the doorway beneath her, flanked by his guards, and marveled at the sight before him. His eyes met Star Swirl's, and he gasped. “By all the life-giving waters, what have you done, unicorn?”

“Only what you asked, your highness,” Star Swirl replied. “The Queen of the Golden Sands is dead. The whispers on the wind are silent. All her power, all her knowledge, belong to me now. She will never trouble you again. I've already claimed my promised reward.”

This did not have the effect Star Swirl expected, of making them raise their voices in celebration. The soldiers stood in formation, tense and sweating. The Sphinx hovered above the doorway with slow beats of her mighty wings, her claws sharp and ready to strike. And the Khalif... he shivered, his face pale, his eyes wary, watching Star Swirl as though staring into the face of unhappy fate.

“Well, don't all congratulate me at once,” Star Swirl said.

“Have you seen yourself, ambassador?” The Khalif asked. “There is a mirror to your side. Look in it.”

“What?” Star Swirl turned his head and indeed saw a great mirror not far away. He looked, and saw himself.

His eyes were solid red, orbs of blood. His coat was ragged and dry, as if caught in some wasting disease, and a trickle of blood dripped from his mouth. Black smoke clung to his horn, and when he shook his head it only rose faster.

In addition his clothes were ragged and scorched, and half his bells had been torn off. That annoyed him.

“...This is no problem,” Star Swirl said. “Only superficial side-effects. I'll take care of it later.”

“Soldiers! Attack!” the Sphinx ordered. “Destroy the ghûl!”

Star Swirl raised his shield just as the first spear loosed against him. The edge of the barrier cut clear through the spearhead: its tip moved on and struck his muzzle, cutting him, while the rest of the spear deflected, along with the next five. Then they charged.

They moved against him like a rushing river around a rock, a torrent of strikes by horses moving swiftly and effortlessly in the cramped space to give room for others to approach. In a second he was under attack from every angle, and his magic shield, already pushed to its limit, was beginning to falter.

“No! Do not kill him!” the Khalif commanded. “If he dies, he will bring about the collapse of our kingdom!”

The Sphinx growled. “If he lives, he will bring about the collapse of everything.”

“I said, do not kill him,” the Khalif replied, and his manner was hard as steel in that moment. The Sphinx turned her eyes on him, but found no purchase.

She relented. “Guards...! Subdue him!”

In the back of Star Swirl's head a voice was telling him to show them all his power: to pay back every insult the Sphinx had dealt him, to tear her into the separate creatures from which she was made and set them running, each apart, into the sands. To lay low the army with a thought, to make their blood boil within their veins and their muscles to go numb and soft as mud.

In the mirror he saw himself looking like a walking corpse.

He closed his eyes and let his shield fall, and something struck his head, and he knew nothing.

Author's Note

ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: The Queen of the Golden Sands.
The Mared has been added to the procession of fallen shadows in The Education of Clover the Clever chapter 7: Crisis of Infinite Star Swirls.

Next time: the epilogue.

Impossible Things, Epilogue: The Legend of Star Swirl.

The present day. Canterlot Castle Library, the Star Swirl the Bearded wing.

“It's strange how different everything seems, in hindsight,” Celestia said as she pondered the fragments of the burning eggshell in the chest. “At the time, I thought his voyage was a complete disaster. It seemed like Star Swirl might have destroyed a kingdom, and permanently weakened my diplomatic influence. The political fallout in Saddle Arabia turned into a bloody civil war that shook every corner of the country. It would be decades before we could attempt a closer friendship again.”

“What happened after the fight?” Twilight asked, hanging on every word. “How did Star Swirl get back to Everhold?”

Celestia winced at the memory. “That was not one of my most gracious moments.”

– – –

“What is this?” Celestia asked as the guard ponies lowered the enormous rolled-up carpet to the floor of the throne hall.

“A present from the King of Saddle Arabia, your highness,” said the foremost guard, and presented her a scroll of parchment bearing the seal of the Khalif.

“How delightful! Please unroll it and let us take a look.” She opened the scroll and began to read. “To their most revered majesties the Royal Sisters of Everhold, from his august highness Hassan al-Rashid, the Khalif of Saddle Arabia, we regret to deliver... oh dear...” Her smile faded. Then her eyes widened in shock. “Capital offenses including but not limited to... Banished from the kingdom in perpetuity on pain of...”

The ropes holding the carpet roll were loosened, and the carpet practically unrolled itself in a grand sweep. There in the center, bound and gagged, with a magic-suppressing ring on his horn and looking absolutely livid, lay Star Swirl.

“Your highness?” the captain of the guard began. “What news? Is Everhold under attack?”

Celestia looked up from the letter, all good cheer gone from her face. “No, no thanks to this— step away from him.” This last was a command aimed at the guards who had approached Star Swirl to loosen his bonds. “He can stay right where he is for a while longer, I think.”

“What are your orders, your highness?”

“Tie the carpet back up, with him inside. Bring it to my sister's office. He is her adviser, so let her deal with him.” She glanced back down at the letter. “I will speak with her later. First, I must speak with the ambassador.”

Star Swirl glared at the princess and cursed through his gag as the guards rolled the carpet back up around him.

– – –

Luna had found the carpet in her office when she woke up some hours later, with a note attached that simply read: “Take care of this. -Celestia.”

The first thing Star Swirl had done when he was released was leap for the jug of water on Luna's desk and guzzle it down.

He hacked and coughed and gasped for air. “I needed that. Could I have some more?”

“Star Swirl?” Luna asked. “What has happened to you?”

“I had a disagreement with the Saddle Arabians... I'm sorry, let me try to do this properly,” he coughed, his voice cracked and weak. Then he stood to attention, or as best as he was able to, and bowed to her. “Your highness, I have returned from my mission and I am ready to deliver my report.”

“Please do so!”

“Strictly speaking the mission was a success. I gained entry to the royal palace and examined their artifact to try to find out if any outside force was somehow subverting it.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “The answer was no.”

“Well, what on earth happened? Why were you tied up like a prisoner?”

“I was a prisoner. It's a long story. Never mind that, that's not important,” he muttered, as he cast his eyes about the room. “Your highness, I need ink and parchment. Lots of it.”

– – –

When Luna stepped out of her office she found Celestia outside the door, waiting for her. “We need to talk,” the elder alicorn said, and in spite of the sun her voice was cold enough to freeze oceans.

“Celestia...”

“Perhaps now we can agree that this appointment was a bad decision, Luna?” Celestia asked matter-of-factly. “Now that your new astronomer has single-hoofedly undone years of careful diplomacy in a matter of days?”

“Celestia—”

“The Khalif's government is in an uproar!” she cried. “The Khalif is demanding that we keep him here, while the Sphinx is demanding that we send him back to face the death penalty! She is threatening upheaval in the state if the Khalif will not support her demands! Frankly I am seriously considering giving him to her as a peace offering. One of my most experienced diplomats is dead and all his work is undone!”

“Celestia, listen to me!” Luna shouted, holding up a piece of parchment. “Star Swirl just wrote this, and you need to see it.”

“Is it a letter of resignation? If not, I am not interested.”

“It's a magic spell,” Luna said. “I want you to read it.”

“What, a homework assignment? He already dropped out of school, it's a little late for that.”

“This is important, Tia!”

Celestia sniffed, snatched the parchment from her sister's grip, and began to read.

As she read her face turned from anger to horror, from horror to curiosity, and from curiosity to disbelief.

“Is he serious?” she asked once she reached the end of the sheet.

“Completely,” Luna answered.

Celestia's face contorted into a scowl. “This is forbidden black magic, Luna.”

“Yes, it is. How many lives could it save?”

“Lives.” Celestia clenched her eyes shut tight, and drew a deep breath before she spoke. “Little sister... do you have any idea what the Sphinx could do if she turned against the Khalif?” she took a step forward, and Luna took a step back. “We will lose Saddle Arabia for a generation. There will be chaos. Lives will be lost as well as saved. Do you want to do math with lives, Luna? I have done so before. It is a grim work that has no answer.”

“I believe in him,” Luna said, meeting her sister's eyes. “If any charges of dealing in forbidden magic are forthcoming, I am prepared to bestow a royal pardon. I will not give him as a sacrifice to the Sphinx, or strip him of his title.”

Celestia stared down at her sister. “This will not only be on your head, Luna. If this fails, you are going to drag all of Everhold down with you.”

“I know,” Luna said, stepping closer. “That's why I need your support, sister. Just this once, will you please trust me?”

Celestia winced. “You truly believe this will work?”

“Yes.”

Celestia sighed, exasperated, and shook her head. “I swear by Mother… Fine then. So be it. We will take what comes.”

“Thank you, sister.”

Celestia nodded. “This discussion is far from over, little sister,” she warned. “With this spell you have purchased your astronomer's life today. Now we will see how long it lasts, and if it was worth it.”

– – –

Twilight listened with rapt attention as Celestia spoke.

“The Mared was a master of flesh-crafting,” Celestia said. “It was among the cruelest and foulest of the forbidden arts. She preyed upon outcasts, brought them under her sway, and turned them into monsters, to instill terror into the hearts of all who looked upon them. To know this magic was a capital offense. All those who had been touched by the Queen, and wielded her magic, were condemned to death.

“What Star Swirl had figured out was that he could take the same spell the Mared had used to create monsters, and use it to explore the inner workings of living bodies without harming them. He stripped the ancient sorcery of all malice, adapted it to unicorn magic and used it to create a biological scanning spell that became standard for unicorn doctors worldwide.

“In no time flat, our understanding of medicine made vast leaps forward. Birth defects could be easily corrected. Many common diseases were wiped out. Injuries that would previously have left a pony disabled for life became treatable. Average life expectancy increased by twenty years.

“He called it the 'Amniomorphic Spell'. Amniotes: four- or six-limbed land creatures, such as birds, ponies, griffons, and dragons. Morphic: pertaining to form. It was the greatest leap forward in unicorn magic that the world had seen in centuries.

“And yet... In the middle of the noise and bluster of Star Swirl's return, we didn't even realize the most important thing of all. Star Swirl himself didn't find the egg-shells tucked away inside his robe for weeks afterwards, and it would be years before we saw it.” As Celestia spoke, her pet swept in and perched on the desk beside her, and leaned in so the alicorn could stroke her beak.

Celestia looked on the bird with love. “Torn free from the Mared's cage in the final eruption… Out of fire and ashes the Phoenix had returned to the world.”

Behind her, Twilight still stood deep in thought. “What ever happened to Womeluki?”

“She continued on her own voyage, and eventually reached her own destiny,” Celestia said. “She escaped the Queen's lair with the surviving ghûl and led them back to the capital city, including Prince Mussadas. With the Mared gone their minds returned to them, but they still kept the powers she had given them. The Sphinx wanted to see them all hanged as wielders of forbidden arts, including the prince. But the Khalif was loath to execute his only son. Thanks to Womeluki and the prince, the ghûl were united as a faction in Saddle Arabian politics: the Order of Blood Magi. They became known as defenders of the downtrodden, and as terrifying adversaries. In time, Womeluki traveled between three continents and fought both the Sphinx and the Gorgon in defense of her homeland. She is quite unknown in Equestria, but in Zebrica she is a national heroine.”

“I just thought of something,” Twilight said. “You remember that first Nightmare Night after Luna returned, when she came to Ponyville to make friends?”

Celestia nodded.

“I was dressed as Star Swirl the Bearded, but you know my zebra friend Zecora? She was there too.” Twilight's eyes were lit up with sudden realization. “She was dressed as a witch. A zebra witch with spiders in her mane.”

Celestia smiled. “Perhaps if you ask her she would like to tell you the stories herself.”

“I will. Gosh, she must know so many stories that ponies have never even heard about.” Twilight grinned at the thought. “But what happened next? What about the peace talks? Did something happen there?”

Celestia laughed softly. “Am I Scheherazade, that I should always start a new story just as the night is ending?”

Twilight's eyes and ears both drooped at the thought that the story was over. “All right… the history books don't tell it anything like this… Wait.” Twilight stopped in her tracks. “Can I ask just one more question?”

Celestia smiled. “Just the one, then.”

“Did Star Swirl the Bearded really kill Discord's mother?” Twilight asked her teacher. “Does Discord know? How does he feel about that?”

Celestia paused, and for a few moments was deep in thought. “To be quite honest, Twilight... It is one of my greatest hopes that someday Discord will come to feel anything at all for his mother. If he does… I think that will be the final proof that he is ready to be something other than a monster.”

“Fluttershy swears that he's getting better,” Twilight said. “I'm still not sure.”

“She has achieved something incredible,” Celestia said. “But Star Swirl was wrong about one thing. Contrary to what he believed, the Mared didn't actually die. Things like her are not killed easily. When Star Swirl broke the connections feeding her magic she lost the power to take a physical form, and to bend others to her will. She has never risen to her former strength again, but she is still alive. Even now, she floats half-sleeping in the mists under the stalactites of Tartarus.”

Celestia looked up through the window at the moon, and Twilight saw a multitude of lights glittering in her eyes. “I've thought about going down to see her, you know. To tell her that her son is free, that her war against us is long ended… that even the wild things have a home in Equestria now. But I think the message would mean more coming from him, and as yet he has shown no interest in the matter.”

They were silent then for a moment, before Celestia yawned and stretched her wings, Philomena mimicking the gesture on her back. “I think that's enough storytelling for tonight. I'll tell you the next part some other time, about the peace talks, and the conspiracy… Come on, I'll show you to your guest room.”

Twilight nodded, struggling to restrain her own yawns. It was long past midnight, and Luna was working in the halls below the library tower.

They left the library behind, and Twilight was still thinking about the story as she drifted off to sleep.

Author's Note

And so it ends.

Join the wrap party and read some story notes, posted here!

Interlude: Homecoming

He had spent his last night in Cambridle with a beautiful mare, and in the throes of their pleasure they had known every inch of each other with their magic.

He thought back to her as the carriage drove him along the country road outside Whinnyenna towards his foalhood home.

He remembered when he left for Cambridle. He had been shocked to find himself in a place where unicorns were in the majority, where nopony batted an eye at sight of a horn, where nopony looked at him curiously for his company with pureblood earth pony nobility. Where he did not have to care what he did or said, where nothing would inevitably travel back to his home.

Whinnyenna had changed, he had thought, during the war. Or possibly the change was in him. He had come from an earth pony community where he was an abnormality. Now he was the image of a rising unicorn sophisticate, educated in the finest magic school in all the lands of ponies, the head of his class, admired and respected by students and teachers alike, sharp and quick and clean.

The world was silent as the carriage drove, pulled by two earth pony stallions, to Whiteblood Manor. The stallions were servants of the house, and clad in the house's livery, and once they came to a stop one of them opened the door of the carriage with his mouth.

Blue Horn emerged naked, and looked on his old home for the first time since he went away.

The outdoors staff were lined up outside the door, on top of the stairs, and there stood the Baroness, his aunt or mother, in front of them. She was draped in black, a lush and billowing gown that covered her from her tail to her withers.

“Presenting,” said the butler Bellows, “His Grace Blue Horn, the fourteenth Baron Whiteblood.”

The servants bowed and curtseyed. But he was only looking at his mother. She glanced at him without emotion, then stepped inside and left his sight.

The butler gave Blue Horn the guided tour of the estate as though he had not lived there for most of his life. All the servants who had cared for him, or yelled at him, or beaten him, now stood at attention with respectful subservience.

“This is the kitchen. Through the back is the servants' quarters. These are the kitchen staff, Mrs. Pepper has prepared the inventory for your inspection...”

Some of the servant girls were his own age: pretty, slightly built, and they fairly trembled with uncertainty and terror as he passed. No other pony seemed to notice, or didn't betray it if they did.

“This is the dining hall. Your predecessor invested heavily in the art collection, which is well curated for your inspection.”

On the wall above the table hung the huge painting of the Battle of Braydon Hill. Every brushstroke remained as he knew it: a study in light and dark, the armies of Llamrei facing off against the shadow creatures conjured up by the sorceress Morgan le Neigh.

They moved on, and upstairs.

“This is the master study,” the butler continued. “The library collection was begun by the second Baron Whiteblood four hundred and sixty years ago...”

Dark brown wood everything. Red glowing candlelight over the huge, thick mahogany desk. A suit of armor belonging to the first Baron stood in a corner, earth pony barding and helmet.

Blue Horn had almost never seen his uncle's study before. Only a few times had he been permitted inside, or brought inside to be punished. He felt his heart beating harder, and nodded at the butler to continue.

“And finally,” they moved on, “the master bedroom.”

A king-sized canopy bed occupied the chamber, thick red curtains veiling the space where, Blue Horn imagined, he had once been conceived. His father's bed.

“The Lady Whiteblood has been moved to another room,” the butler prattled on, oblivious to the turning of Blue Horn's guts, not commenting on the sweat forming on his brow.

“You will wish to familiarize yourself with the local duties, of course.”

The butler led him back to the study.

There was a schedule. There was a genealogy, in which his page was barely dry, his birth written only weeks earlier. There were holdings and property for him to acquaint himself with. There were charitable endeavors. There was patronage to withdraw, or dole out. There were a few vassals he might wish to shuffle, favors to give out, favors to call in. There were balls and military matters he knew nothing about, and where he likely would not be very welcome.

There might be attacks on his position by rivals eager to prey upon the inexperienced newcomer. Especially by his predecessor's ideological comrades, unwilling to see some unknown unicorn hold a barony that had been the heart of earth pony nobility for centuries.

For all Blue Horn knew the butler might be one of them, or might have been approached with offers by them. The butler warned Blue Horn of this himself.

The butler explained all this in the same voice he had used to describe the pedigree of the desk. His description done, he withdrew and left Blue Horn to ponder his position.

Now he was the Baron.

Blue Horn wondered what his father had intended. He had no other foals, at least none more legitimate than himself (and was there an earth pony somewhere, waiting to crawl out of the woodwork and make a claim with the support of other tribal warriors?). He had not taught Blue Horn politics, or strategy, or anything.

Had he not known that he would die someday? Had he intended to continue ruling from beyond the grave? Or had he intended to watch his barony burn around him, that nopony would follow at all?

Ashes to ashes. Earth to earth.

The weight of a dozen barons pressed down on him.

What do I want to do here?

The answer was clear. This is an ancestral estate, and you are only the next link in the chain. Your duty is to preserve it for the next after you.

I am studying at Cambridle. I could be a professor. I could be a professional sorcerer. I could be a writer. I am full of potential. But I never dreamed I would inherit a noble title. This isn't for me.

But could I do it?

Blue Horn was not a stranger to politics. He had watched his uncle since his foalhood, but always from the outside. At Cambridle Blue Horn had studied the Pointed Arts: unicorn magic, rhetoric, philosophy. The politics he knew were academic politics... the most vicious and bitter, as Hayre's Law had it, because the stakes were so low.

He was going to have to learn it from scratch.

– – –

Blue Horn looked down at the dinner before him.

It was as if there was a knot inside his stomach, pulled taut. He saw himself watching it intently, waiting to see if it would loosen under the strain, or snap.

He sat at the head of the table, his mother opposite him. She watched him unblinking, running her eyes up and down his form.

He had not touched the meal. He was pondering the silver cutlery, made for hoof: different from what he was used to in Cambridle.

He thought back to his foalhood. He would eat here in the dining hall, at the far end of the table, in the earth pony style as the servants had taught him, while his uncle spoke of his affairs.

Sometimes his uncle would ask him about his tutoring. Usually he did not.

When there were guests, Blue Horn would eat alone in his room, as he pleased, and speak to no-one. That was better.

He raised the knife and fork in his magic and began to eat. He heard his aunt's sharp intake of breath, and a flood of memories came back to him. His spine told him to flinch. His mind told him to stand. His heart told him to savor the moment.

The feelings clashed inside him, and left behind a hole.

In the absence of emotion he merely watched her, and she shrugged. “You are the Baron,” she said.

Blue Horn chewed, and swallowed. “Baron,” he said. “What does that make you?”

“Nothing, anymore,” she replied, not looking at him. “The title and the lands both belong to my husband's line, not mine. With his death it passed to his heir.”

“That's not me, Aunt,” Blue Horn replied grimly. “Not your nephew, left in your care by an embarrassing sister, who fell into the embrace of some traveling conjurer and snake-oil salespony. Wasn't that the story you told me every year since I was old enough to ask, and notice that every other foal had parents, and I had an aunt and uncle?” The knot creaked and turned under the tension. “An aunt and uncle who had shunted me to a distant corner of their home, and cared not what I did? Who hardly said a word to me while I was growing up, who never looked at me without me seeing disappointment and revulsion in their eyes?”

“You ungrateful little beast!” she said, her glass crashing as it fell on her plate. “If you're looking for sympathy you can ask somepony else. Your father and I fed you. We clothed you. We sheltered you. We sent you to the finest school of your kind in all the land! And all we did, we expected nothing from you! Do you know what they used to do with disappointments? They brought them into the wilds and left them for the timberwolves!” Her voice was cracking, and cut his ears. “You lived in a mansion! Yet you complain because you were too weak to live without the tender touches of a sire? You are lucky that I didn't let you starve to death when you were born!”

“You want me to be grateful?” Blue Horn raised the crystal chalice in his magical grip, and without breaking eye contact, smashed it against the wall, red wine splattering everywhere. “Because you tolerated me, in spite of how useless you think I was? You want me to feel for you? Since your precious family line wasn't quite so pure as you wanted, and because of me you couldn't hold your birth above everypony else?”

“You think this is about you?” She asked. “You know nothing! Your father had a duty to protect the land. To protect the Barony! And yes, to protect the bloodline.”

She slammed a hoof down on the table. “Any sign of weakness invites destruction! Had the world known about you then our rivals would have tried to overthrow us, and the world would be the same… only a little more bloody.” She shook her head. “Your father knew his role, and he did not wilt like a fragile flower when duty called. He was a great pony, even if you can't see it.”

Blue Horn rose from his seat and stepped around the table, not taking his eyes off her. “What happened to my uncle?”

“He was your father,” she answered.

His jaw clenched tightly. “I asked what – happened – to him.”

His aunt slowly turned her head away and stared at the wall, her eyes vacant. When she answered her voice was dead and hollow. “He was killed by the enemies of ponydom. He was led down a road to his death with a promise of everything he wanted, and heaven and earth help me, I followed him.”

“Who was that pony? The stallion in the white armor. Who was he? What did he want?”

“He wanted a war,” she said. “He wanted to purify the world in flames, and he gave your father everything he needed to immolate himself.”

“To make the world pure,” Blue Horn spat the words. “Where did he go? What did he do?” But his aunt only shook her head.

“I don't know,” she whispered. “He got what he wanted and he left… He burned, Blue Horn. He burned like the sun. Your father leapt into that sun, and achieved everything he ever wanted. His dreams will live on forever.”

And then the wall shook, and he held her pressed up against the wall, the knife in his grip, hate and fire in his eyes. The Battle of Braydon Hill creaked and swayed above their heads.

“You are your father's son,” she said, and for once in her life her smile had no trace of wickedness in it. “Only now do I know how much I loved him.”

“You are sick,” he spat. “You're a complete monster.”

“And you are my foal,” she replied.

“I'm nothing like you!” He screamed at her. “Do you know what I am? I'm a scholar! I'm a sage! I'm a unicorn Magister, first in my class at the best center of learning in Ponydom! I am everything you are not and you are not my mother!”

She only shook her head, laughing softly under her breath as he raged.

“It doesn't matter how you dress, or speak, or act,” his mother told him. “It doesn't matter where you go or what you do. Nothing will change what's in your blood. Nothing will change where you came from.”

He froze there with the knife in his grip, held firmly against her throat, and she closed her eyes as she waited.

– – –

Blue Horn emerged from the estate and stepped down the front stairs without looking back. A crisp wind blew, carrying the scent of flowers, and he drew a deep breath.

There comes a time in every pony's life, he reflected, where he must look inside himself and face what lies within.

Now he knew what he would do. He knew who he was, and he knew where he was going.

The carriage was waiting for him, two ponies in harness waiting to drive him along, clad in the livery of House Whiteblood.

“To Whinnyenna,” he said to the servants as he climbed in. “And from there, to Everhold.”

Extralude: Clover the Clever Recaps The Story So Far

Author's Note

This recap chapter was written to help ease old readers back into the story after a five-year hiatus. If you're a new reader you can feel free to skip it, or not.

Extralude: Clover the Clever Recaps The Story So Far

“All right, Professor, I’ve done it,” Clover the Clever said, as she placed the heavy tome on the table in front of her with a soft thump. “I’m ready with that assignment you gave me.”

“Indeed?” Star Swirl the Bearded looked over to her from his resting position in a comfy chair nearby. “Did it prove interesting?”

“Oh yes, very,” Clover said, as she opened the book to the title page and smoothed out the page with her stylus: The Crown of Night. No author listed. “So, you asked me to read this story and…”

“And to explain it to me,” Star Swirl the Bearded said. “From the beginning, as if I were somepony else, and you were summing the story up for me.”

“Yes. Well, I’ve read it, as you asked, and taking notes…”

“That is a good place to start.”

Clover nodded. “It’s quite a story,” she said.

“I think so,” Star Swirl said. “Begin when you are ready.”

Clover nodded, and looked down at her papers. “Alright. So…”

“The story begins with Star Swirl as a little foal. He’s been in a fight with some bigger colts and he’s angry and alone and vulnerable, and he’s run off to sulk on the hill outside his village.” Clover shuffled her papers and looked over her notes. “Far from the legendary wizard he will eventually become, little Star Swirl is a frail, unhappy foal with no friends, who feels no connection to anything or anypony around him. Born to an earth pony family, he is the only unicorn in the farming village of Edinspur, with no idea how to use his magic and nopony to teach him, and he feels misunderstood and alone. That’s when he meets Princess Luna.”

Clover looked at an artist’s depiction of a bygone historical figure half-passed into myth. “Princess Luna, ruler of the night. Though one of the most powerful beings in the world, she’s isolated, lonely and unhappy, her mind weighed down by omens of disaster, distant but inescapable. She has noticed Star Swirl sitting alone on the hill at night, looking up at the stars, and she decides to say hello. These two ponies who both struggle to relate to others make an instant connection with each other, and they spend half the night sitting there talking together. They talk about the night, and the stars, and ponies. And she shows him how to use his magic. But when she helps him cast her spell to move the stars she is shocked to find that it comes unnaturally easily to him, and that his magic is unnaturally powerful. She realizes there is something very special about this colt and his destiny is linked with hers. And for his part, this chance encounter with her will shape the course of his entire life. And that’s chapter one.”

She glanced to her teacher, who sat quietly in his chair, looking at nothing. “I still remember it so clearly,” he said eventually. “But it feels so strange to hear it from outside… Please continue.”

Clover nodded. “After that beginning the next major section is the story of Star Swirl’s studenthood. Years have passed, and Star Swirl grows from a little foal to become a stubborn, reckless, single-minded teenager. When he’s fifteen he leaves his home and walks across Braytannia by himself, to study at Princess Luna’s Academy of Magic at Cambridle. Because he’s had no schooling in his life up until then he flunks the entrance exam, but forces his way in anyway with a staggering display of raw magical might that silences the entire faculty. That sort of sets the tone for his entire time there. He’s always accomplishing great things, but nonetheless manages to alienate everypony around him. Well, almost everypony. He has a roommate, Time Turner, who introduces Star Swirl to the wonders of the library, forever changing the course of arcane history. Oh, and there’s Ginny the Librarian, who used to be Time Turner’s girlfriend!” Clover said cheerfully at recognizing a friend in the text. “I still meet up with her for tea on occasion. You know, I heard about all this backwards and second-hoof, so reading it in chronological order is pretty interesting.”

Star Swirl grumbled. “There’s a reason I don’t talk about them. But it’s important to get through. Go on.”

“Right.” Clover flipped the page and moved her stylus across her notes. “The next chapter is all about Princess Luna. In the old royal palace at Everhold Princess Luna has… the worst birthday anypony has ever had, and frankly it kind of hurts me to even read about it.” Clover paused a second to let out a sigh as she looked over her notes. “Luna spends her days in Princess Celestia’s shadow, the two of them never agree about anything and Luna feels inadequate and inferior to her sister in everything she does. After everything goes wrong for her in Everhold she leaves the palace unannounced and flies to her school at Cambridle searching for something to cheer her up. But even there at her own school things don’t work out for her, and her efforts to raise her spirits crash when she overhears the faculty talking about her as an annoyance for disrupting their evening. And she leaves, slinking off from the party unnoticed.

“That’s when she meets Star Swirl again, for the first time since all those years before. She opens up about her feelings, with great difficulty. They talk together about loneliness, and not fitting in the ponies around them… And then Star Swirl puts on a magic show for her that covers the entire city in magic starlight, filling the ponies with dread or joy as their own consciences dictate, and reveals the beauty of her night for her to see. And at long last she feels better, and the two of them hang out on a rooftop together, enjoying her birthday.”

“That was a very good night. For me, at least.” Star Swirl smiled wistfully at the memory. “It’s strange how all memories feel so different, even though they all lead to the same place.”

“Yes Professor,” Clover said studently. “At the end of the night Luna tells Star Swirl about her fear. For many years, she has felt a premonition of something terrible on the horizon, some great calamity that will destroy all of ponykind if she can’t uncover it first. She asks Star Swirl to study at the school, and then come work for her and help her try to find it and stop it. And when she leaves for Everhold and Star Swirl is alone, he hears the stars speak to him directly… and ask him to save her.”

Star Swirl sat unmoving, staring into the unlit fireplace. Clover let the creaking of the turning page pierce the suddenly-heavy silence that ruled when she paused her tale, and cleared her throat. “While all this is going on there are also a bunch of shorter stories from far away about other things mixed in. Princess Luna has this elite band of pegasus warriors, the Shadowbolts, who are her bodyguards and spies, and maybe even assassins. They are fanatically devoted to her and her alone, and if anypony else knows they exist they’re terrified of them. It’s this almost cult-like secret society, with secret teachings and rituals. Seems kind of unhealthy to me.”

Clover turned the page again and saw another illustration, of a pony figure, with no horn or wings, covered entirely in armor, even his eyes obscured by a veil beneath his helmet. “And there’s this guy,” Clover said, watching him warily, as if he might turn and look back at her. “The White Knight, who travels the lands of ponies in secret on a mission for his master, bringing death with him wherever he goes. We see him meet with this earth pony supremacist aristocrat, Baron Whiteblood, who thinks pegasi, unicorns, and griffons alike are abominations. In order to reinvigorate the Baron’s legacy the two of them conspired to spark the Great Griffon War, which raged for years and caused tremendous bloodshed on all sides. The Baron both delighted in and profited from the war, and in return he allowed the White Knight’s master, whoever that was, to carry out terrible deeds in secret in his lands… including abducting and disappearing foals.

“The Baron also has a son, a unicorn named Blue Horn, who was a stain on his legacy as a pillar of the earth pony aristocracy. So he and his wife denied Blue Horn, and pretended, even to him, that he was a distant relative they had taken in as an orphan… Celestia, what utter monsters. And once Blue Horn is old enough they send him to Cambridle, where he meets Star Swirl. And the two of them hate each other instantly.”

Clover tapped her stylus on the edge of the table. “Blue Horn… Blue Horn… That sounds vaguely familiar, should I know who that is? Is he somepony important?”

“It will come,” Star Swirl the Bearded said. “Keep going.”

“Right. Anyway, Star Swirl’s studenthood continues for a few more years. But nopony at Cambridle except Time Turner can tolerate him for long. He’s got a lifetime ban from the library for defacing the books, his classmates do worse when he’s around, ponies think he’s single-hoofedly causing an ink shortage… Things finally reaching a breaking point at the end of his third year, when a member of the faculty sabotages Star Swirl’s chronomancy exam to get him expelled. Things go horribly wrong, and rather than fizzle out harmlessly as his professor intended, Star Swirl’s spell blows up a building… as well as his roommate, Time Turner, who is never seen again. This is harsh, Professor. This is very harsh.”

“I’ve tried to master time magic, on occasion, but it never works,” Star Swirl the Bearded said. “Sometimes I wonder if old Check Mate cursed me, back then.”

Clover looked to the next page, her face serious. “Star Swirl is expelled, and runs away from Cambridle, and nopony is sorry to see him go. He’s devastated by everything that happened. And when he reaches the edge of the city Princess Luna is there to meet him. She tells him she knows he didn’t mean for any of it to happen, and tells him to have faith in himself when nopony else does. And she asks him to make his way to Everhold to work for her, in his own time.” Clover sat back in her chair, looking down at the copious cross-connected notes. “And that’s the story of Star Swirl’s time as a university student.”

“It feels so strange to look back on it now, after all this time,” Star Swirl the Bearded said quietly. “Turner was… a good friend. Please, keep going.”

Clover nodded. “Some years pass. While far away the Great Griffon War rages on, Star Swirl wanders Braytannia as a wizard. We see him face off against a Kelpie, a dangerous water spirit preying on villagers. He reads its thoughts and sees that it’s fled across the frozen seas from some unknown fear, and he seals it away in a manner that’s surely going to break in about a thousand years. While he wanders the country hunting magical creatures and helping ponies, he also learns magic from Luna herself in his dreams. And at the age of 21 he arrives in Everhold.”

There was a pencil sketch of Everhold Castle from the side, a large and elaborate structure, with the Astronomy Tower circled in red. “The old Royal Astronomer has retired and Luna gives the position to Star Swirl, over Celestia’s objections. This is when Star Swirl gets his robe and hat for the special occasion, which is a very funny scene. Just putting that in there… Star Swirl meets Celestia for the first time, and she is very clear that she thinks very little of him or his appointment to court. And after the ceremony is over Luna gives Star Swirl his first mission in her service.”

Clover turned to the next page, and looked over the disparate points. “It’s also around this time that Baron Whiteblood dies,” she said. “The Shadowbolts have been investigating him, and are close to unraveling the conspiracy. In response the White Knight kills him, making him a martyr to the cause, and the White Knight ends his activities there, leaving his true purpose still unknown.” Clover sighed and shook her head. “The widow Baroness writes a letter to Blue Horn, finally telling him who he really is, and he leaves Cambridle to claim his inheritance. A very bitter inheritance. These incidents still seem very disjointed, but I assume there’s a reason why they’re there.”

“It’s better to know than not,” Star Swirl the Bearded said heavily.

Clover hesitated, and nodded, and continued. “Star Swirl is now the Royal Astronomer of Everhold, and official arcane adviser to both Princesses, although only one of them trusts him. Princess Luna shares her fears with him and sends him on his first mission.” Another drawing, of various stone orbs linked together in an elaborate net. “She tells him that the magical web that protects the world is failing, and she suspects it’s because the powerful artifacts that keep the web strong, magical items that are the source of power for many of the world’s nations, are being corrupted. She shows him the Elements of Harmony, the source of Everhold’s power. And she sends him on a mission to Saddle Arabia to investigate their artifact. And this next story is more of an epic adventure, and it’s hard to convey the full impression in a short span of time but I’m gonna try my best, okay? Alright, here goes.”

“Saddle Arabia was a rich and powerful kingdom, but at this time it is… troubled. A terrible spirit known as the Queen of the Golden Sands haunts the land. She has captured the Khalif’s son and heir, turned him into a mindless puppet wielding terrible magics, her ghûl, and sent him out to destroy the people. The Khalif, in despair, has called on all the sages and oracles of the world to tell him how he can save his son. The prince attacks Star Swirl’s caravan, and after barely surviving Star Swirl catches the eye of a zebra mystic called Womeluki, who was tracking the prince, and the two of them travel to the capital city together.

“Star Swirl gets to meet the Khalif, delivers an oracle he reads in the stars, and asks to examine the artifact, the Sun Stone. But the Khalif’s Grand Vizier, the immortal Sphinx, refuses. Unwilling to return empty-hooved, Star Swirl challenges the Sphinx to a game of wits. The Sphinx resolves to make an example of him, but he stands against her so strongly that the clash between them shakes the very palace to its foundations, and the Khalif, shocked, cuts the contest short, declares a tie, and shows Star Swirl the door while the Sphinx fumes. But Star Swirl so impressed Womeluki that she stays with him, and the two of them set out into the desert to find and defeat the Queen of Golden Sands.

“They track down a lone ghûl and capture it, and use its magic to lead them to the Queen’s lair in the very heart of the desert, where they are promptly captured and taken prisoner.” The next page was filled with evocative drawings of grotesque creatures in all shapes and sizes. “They are brought before the Queen’s own Grand Vizier, the Gorgon Stheno, and surrounded by the Queen’s court of monsters. It’s filled with beings terrible and dangerous, previously forced to live on the edges of the world, now brought together under the Queen’s banner. The Queen is planning an attack to crush Saddle Arabia and take back the lands that were once theirs, and it seems like they’re referring to the same impending crisis that worries Luna.

“That is when Star Swirl abandons Womeluki and offers himself to the Queen, leaving the zebra behind as he delves into the Queen’s innermost sanctum. He comes face to face with the her and realizes that she’s a Draconequis: the mother of Discord, who has sworn revenge on the lands of ponies and horses because of what they did to her son. Star Swirl offers to help her defeat the Khalif, if he is allowed to take the Sun Stone. She accepts, and begins to dominate his mind, only to find herself deceived. Star Swirl has studied the magic she used on the ghûl and figured out how to turn it against her. He takes all of her dark magic for himself, rendering her powerless and throwing the court of monsters into chaos as all the ghûl are freed from her control.

“But Womeluki is furious at Star Swirl for deceiving and abandoning her, and when she sees that he has absorbed the Queen’s dark magic she is horrified. She prophesies that because of his recklessness he will usher in an age of war, and she leaves him there, trapped in the sanctum while she leads the ghûl away.

“Still, Star Swirl manages to get back to the Khalif’s palace, and even gets to look at the Sun Stone. But he is saturated with the Queen’s dark magic, and he is captured and banished for practicing forbidden blood magic, for which the penalty is death. And to top it all off, when he looked at the Sun Stone he found that it was actually doing fine and wasn’t being corrupted at all! I swear, professor, I feel like there must have been a better way you could have done this!”

“Imagine how it felt to live it,” her teacher said.

Clover’s eyes moved across the final pages of her notes. “All these events had far-reaching ramifications. The mission was technically a success, but Celestia was furious at the damage and it took all of Luna’s goodwill to talk her down. Star Swirl’s name was now known across the world, as the sages who had come to help the Khalif and witnessed the duel with the Sphinx brought the news to their homelands. A kingdom of monsters was broken, and its inhabitants returned to the shadows. Star Swirl used the Queen’s monstrous magic to make great advances in healing magic that made life better, but Saddle Arabia sank into civil war between the ghûl and the Sphinx. And in the end, the prophecy of doom to come was still unaffected.

“And finally, back in Everhold, all the different strands of the story have now come together: Luna and Star Swirl, Celestia, Blue Horn, and the White Knight are now all there under the same roof, as we all wait to find out what happens next.” Clover reached the final written page: there were plenty of pages left, but they were blank and untouched. She closed the book. “And that’s as far as it’s come.”

“Indeed,” Star Swirl the Bearded stroked his hoof across his beard, deep in thought. “So what are we to make of all of this?”

“I’m honestly not sure… That was actually really complicated. The recap, I mean.”

“Indeed? How so?”

Clover bit her lip. “Well, I’ve been wondering how to do this, and I’m actually very unsure. I think part of the reason is it turns out that recapping is an act of interpretation and analysis,” Clover said. “I mean, sure, in theory summarizing the events of a story is pretty straight-forward. But a novel is a complicated machine where all the parts have a job to do. How do I pick out what matters, and what doesn’t?”

“You’re doing just fine, rest assured.”

“Thanks, Professor. But it’s not just about finding the important moments either. It’s not just ‘this is what happened’ but ‘this is what you should think about it’. Things the author might prefer to leave more subtle in the text, but need to be included in the recap for it to be effective. And of course, I’ve tried to describe the intended emotional impact as I understood it, but emotional impact has to happen in the reader and they might disagree with me. And exploring themes and such directly is sort of a spoiler, not just for what’s already happened but for the parts that are still to come.” Clover shifted in her seat. “And that’s another thing. This is a long and complicated story, and it’s still unfinished. I love this story, and obviously it means a lot to you, but I’m trying to understand it well enough to explain it before it’s complete, and that makes me wary.” She flipped the cover and the first few pages to the prologue. “And then there’s this frame narrative, which I find difficult to understand. It’s a prophecy of some kind, where this whole history is a story that Princess Celestia is telling to another pony in the distant future? It’s very strange. Even though the story presents Celestia in a fairly negative light, where she’s unhelpful and dismissive of her sister’s worries, this is also a story Celestia herself is telling about these events. Does… Does this have to be in the recap? Or am I just making everything more confusing now? I don’t know.”

“Do it in your own words then,” Star Swirl the Bearded said. “Forget about homework, you’re not getting graded. What are your own thoughts?”

“My own thoughts?” Clover frowned for a moment, thinking. She flipped the book open and put her hoof down on the page. “Well, maybe the biggest impression I’ve gotten is that meeting you like this, compared to when I first got to know you face to face… The shift is huge. There is a vast gulf between the young, proud, excited adventurer in this book, overjoyed to be on a mission from a marvelous pony and eager to stare down death and danger to prove his greatness… and the old professor, the arch-wizard weighed down by a century of regret, who has seen everything and hates to say a word about himself or his past.”

Star Swirl said nothing in response. Clover watched him for a moment before continuing. “That gulf is what this story is really about. You could say it only makes sense when the reader already knows the old stallion. But I wonder. Because that also means there isn’t really that much question about where this is going. What does it even mean to tell a story when everypony knows where it’s going to end?”

There was a moment of silence. Then Star Swirl the Bearded said, “Ponies are complicated creatures.”

Clover sighed. “That they are, Professor,” she said. “So. What do we do now?”

“We continue,” her teacher said. He nodded to the book, and to Clover’s notes. “I think that’s good enough for now. Thank you, Clover. I’m going to take the rest of the night off, I think. You can do that same.”

“Alright, Professor,” Clover the Clever said. She took one last look down at the book. “I think I’m gonna keep reading this. Have a good night.”

Chapter 11: Labyrinth, Act One (Everhold Slice Of Life)

It was raining in Canterlot that day, and there would be thunder and lightning that night. All as scheduled on the weather plan.

It was heavy rain that turned the white city grey, and formed little rivers in the streets, and the magic glow of the streetlights reflected on the surface of the water, making the city look like a very different place.

Twilight Sparkle had seen many days like this as a foal in the city, staring out the window and wondering why the Pegasi couldn’t keep it sunny every day, instead of only most days. But she had learned why it was necessary, eventually, and much more recently she even thought she could finally recognize the beauty of it.

Twilight took one look behind her at the city in the rain before she passed through the gates of the palace on her way to meet her old teacher.

She found Celestia in the stained glass hall, where the elder alicorn stood watching the rain patter against the images as she waited. Twilight thought she knew the images well, but like the city, the rain changed their character significantly, shading the colors in a way she’d never seen before. Celestia turned as Twilight entered, and her face lit up. “Twilight!” She bent down and swept a wing around the smaller alicorn in an embrace. “It’s so good to see you again. How have you been?”

“I’m fine thanks, Princess Celestia,” Twilight said, returning the hug. “I got your letter and came here as soon as I could.”

Celestia chuckled. “It was just a general invitation, Twilight. There’s no need to drop anything, it could wait for another time.”

“It was no trouble at all,” Twilight insisted. “And honestly… I had almost given up hope that you’d ever offer to continue telling me this story.”

Celestia chuckled. “You only had to ask, Twilight.”

“I couldn’t do that!” Twilight said, a look of shock briefly flashing across her face before vanishing. “I mean… No offense, Princess, but much as I want to hear more, this story sometimes seems awfully personal for you.”

Celestia looked ahead for a moment, lost in silence. “Yes,” she said. “I suppose so.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, forgive an old mare her reminiscences. Where did we leave off last time?”

“Star Swirl had just come back from Saddle Arabia,” Twilight reminded her. “He had brought back with him the theory of the Amniomorphic Spell.”

“Ah yes, that’s right. But bigger things were happening in the world, if you can believe it.”

Celestia led her not to the main door to her private chambers, but to a side door she couldn’t immediately recall ever passing through, which led to a bare passage where historical artifacts stood on display, like a little museum lining the hall. Celestia wandered along until she paused at one display, and looked at it.

There were two helmets, side by side, facing forward. One was shaped for a pony and one for a griffon, and the plaque underneath read simply “Pegasus and Griffon Helmets from the Final Griffon War.”

The pony helmet was a smoothly polished dome topped with a crest of hair, with little caps shaped like wings for the ears and a thick cloth strap along the bottom. The griffon helmet was larger, and very ornate, made of thick bands of metal woven together in an elaborate pattern, with no ear holes, and a beak instead of a muzzle, and the metal glittered like gold in the light.

“The Great Griffon War was drawing to a close,” Celestia said, quietly, as if she was still unsure about some question of it, after all these years. “Many years of bloodshed, and so many lives lost, for no reason that anypony could even understand. We had finally gotten the griffons to agree to peace talks, and I did not want Star Swirl anywhere near them. I wanted to be certain that nothing would go wrong.”

She studied the two items, deep in thought. “Little did I know I had already allowed the sickness within our very walls.”

Celestia fell silent. She turned away from the two helmets, and her gaze fell on a third, much larger one that stood on a separate display. One of black metal, with long and curved horns.

“Do you know the story of the founding of Knossox, Twilight?” Celestia eventually said. “The Bull King Tauros, a great warrior and conqueror of many nations, proclaimed that as a show of his power and his dedication to his gods he would make a great offering such that all who saw it would be amazed. He called to the heavens for a sign, and from out of the waves emerged a creature unlike any his subjects had seen. A towering figure that walked on two legs, sleek and strong and radiant… The king’s sages told him that the gods smiled upon him, that this creature would make a worthy sacrifice. But, when he saw it, the great king’s heart was filled with greed. He wanted to keep the creature for himself, and offered up the strongest animals of his stables instead. But his gods did not accept his bribe, and punished him for his faithlessness.

“In the end his kingdom fell to ruin. And in the place he ruled something new had come into being, and the world would never be the same.

“It was called the Labyrinth.”

– – –

Labyrinth
Act One

The White Knight looked over his weapons. His chambers were lined with them: swords and knives and spears, their blades shining bright in the morning sun that fell through the window of his quarters.

He stood in the light, and perhaps he felt it warm him beneath his ornate silver armor that covered his body entirely. Beneath his helmet a veil concealed even his eyes from any onlooker. The polished metal was engraved with finely shaped lines and patterns, and draped with white cloth, ceremonial and august. His every step seemed purposeful and calculated, and as he moved he cast not a shadow but a kaleidoscopic geometry of light.

“War is a strange thing, is it not?” The White Knight asked.

The other occupant of his chamber said nothing.

“I have traveled the width and breadth of the lands of ponies,” he continued. “I have stood upon her towers and walked along her borders. I have seen her palaces and listened to her leaders talk of their strength, pretty dreams wrapped in pretty words masquerading as strategy. And there is one thing I have learned.”

He turned to face his companion, and she felt the weight of his gaze fall upon her, and she tried to sit up straight and not tremble.

“I have learned that what binds us together can shackle us,” the White Knight said. “That the things that hold us up can weigh us down. I have seen how the comforts and promises of peace can be a cage.”

His companion flinched at the mention of cages.

“War is the great liberator,” the White Knight said slowly, reverently. “It rips apart the bonds that bind us. It burns away our illusions of strength and resilience, and shows us what we are truly made of… and it sets us free to do what we wish. It demands only one thing of us. It demands that we survive.”

The other fidgeted nervously in her personal space, her ears standing at high alert. “I don’t know anything about war,” she said. “I just want them to be safe.”

The White Knight drew a deep, slow breath, and it was possible, perhaps, to imagine that underneath the silver helmet and the silken white fabric that shrouded his face, there was a smile. “Of course you do. You are a good soul. We must all choose a side, and you… You have chosen the side of the light. And you and I are going to set Everhold free.”

He opened his cabinet, and took out a small silver chest. It glittered in the sunlight that fell through the open curtains, and from it he drew a glass vial and a metal disc, like a badge, or a coin.

The White Knight had never seen a weapon he didn’t know how to use.

“These are for you,” he said to her. “You know what to do.”

– – –

The Royal Guards of Everhold famously showed no emotion, or indeed acknowledged anything short of an attack while they stood on guard, but inwardly the two ponies groaned with annoyance at the post they had drawn that night.

They stood watch by the door to the Observatory Tower, the domain of the Royal Astronomer, and that post had quickly gained a reputation since the Saddle Arabia incident.

From within there were constant sounds of the unearthly, the inequine, and the unholy. Sometimes there were explosions. Sometimes there was cackling. Sometimes there were screams. The guards were specifically instructed to ignore all of the above.

One guard glanced back at the door uncertainly. “What do you think he’s doing in there?”

“Shut up, or we’ll get double shifts,” the other growled.

There was the sound of hoofsteps from up a spiral stairwell nearby, and Princess Luna came into sight. The guards stood at attention and saluted her as she passed through the door, and closed it behind her.

She sighed, having pretended not to hear their muttering, and pushed it out of mind.

She looked ahead, and found Star Swirl within the laboratory-apartments at the bottom at the tower. He was staring at a softly-glowing orb of magic that encompassed his hoof, which he held up under a large magnifying lens. She halted and stood watching in silence, wondering what experiment was in play for a moment. Then her face contorted in shock as before her eyes his hoof morphed, and split, grotesquely, into a thin, flat base with five branching digits emerging from it. Each digit spread out apart from the others, and moved as if of their own accord. They curled inwards towards the base, and flexed out straight, freakishly flexible, and at the tip of each was a little hard plate, the remnants of the wall of his hoof.

She was about to scream, but felt a knot choke in the back of her throat and by the time it passed she realized he did not seem to be in pain, and in truth was studying the workings of this twisted mockery of a limb with interest.

“Hrmph…” He shook his head. “I just can't see any practical use for it.” He looked up and noticed her watching for the first time, and he beamed. “Princess, come in! Let me show you what I’m working on.”

The light shifted, his horn shot a beam of magic through the lens, and after a few tense moments he withdrew his leg to show his hoof, as perfectly ordinary as nature intended. He grinned excitedly and bowed.

“You seem to be immersed in your labors,” Luna said weakly.

“I’m experimenting with the Amniomorphic Spell,” Star Swirl said. “I’ve figured out how to turn my nerve endings on and off at will. While they’re off I can reshape parts of my own body. I don’t feel a thing!”

“That is… fascinating,” Luna said diplomatically. “But also very unsettling. Please be careful, Star Swirl. You would not want to do something you cannot undo.”

“I’m making great progress,” Star Swirl said confidently. “It’s nothing to worry about. Every week it gets easier. I can do great things.” He glanced back towards the door and his grin melted away to a frown. “Forget the guards. I don’t need any test subjects other than myself. I will do great things.” He seemed to forget himself for a moment before returning to earth. “But I’m rambling. Please, come in! What brings you here to my domain?”

“Nothing really,” Luna lied. She looked around as the unicorn led her further in, and got her first proper look at the place since he had moved in. “I just wanted to say hello. I’ve been so busy, I haven’t found time to speak with you in months.”

“Has it really been so long?”

“Not since the pardon,” Luna said. There was a brief, but awkward silence before she cleared her throat, and continued. “How are your new apartments? You’re making yourself at home, I trust”

The Royal Astronomer’s apartments sat at the base of the observatory tower, with the living quarters on one side and a laboratory on the other, and the spiral staircase in the back leading up to the tower itself, one of the highest points of the palace.

It was also a mess. Every spare surface in the laboratory was taken up by some project or other, most of them half-finished and possibly forgotten. There were chalkboards covered with magic circles and equations in many different colors of chalk, as well as piles of books and scrolls of parchment stacked everywhere. In one far corner was a chart showing different styles of facial hair, with many arrows and question marks scrawled on it.

“It’s magnificent,” he said, breathily. “Nopony in Edinspur would believe it, if they could see me now. No doubt they thought I’d die in a ditch somewhere, when I left. The guards complain, they call me mad, but never mind them, see this laboratory! These instruments! I didn’t know lenses could do some of these things! Back at the university the oculoscopes were a hundred years old and running on low-wave enchantments. But this!” He looked around him, at the star charts and the instruments, and up to the telescope on the higher level. He grinned. “It’s amazing. With this, I can wrest the secrets from the night sky itself!”

“You can always just ask, you know,” Luna said.

She thought she saw him blush, for just a moment, before he moved along.

Star Swirl led her on a path between various wonders and to a nearby table, which he quickly emptied of the open books that lay on it. “Come, look at this.” He poured a cup of coffee, and held it up for her expectantly.

Luna looked, and gasped softly. The coffee was black, but there convention ended: it was the black of the sky at night, deep and vast, and the light that reflected in it looked like points of starlight. “It’s beautiful.”

Star Swirl grinned. “I call it Midnight Coffee. I made the enchantment myself. Please, try some!”

He held out the cup for her and she accepted it, and sat down in a chair that was more comfortable than her throne, and slumped back. She took a sip, felt the taste of coffee fill her mouth, and sighed.

“Thank you… What are you working on?” She asked, and for the next ten minutes she was quiet, listening and relaxing as Star Swirl let loose about his discoveries with the excitement of a foal with a new toy. She leaned back in her chair, and even the feeling of the simple cushion pressing against her back was new and interesting, and for a while she did not feel worry, or fear. She listened, and sometimes laughed at the huge grin on his face and the starry sparkle in his eyes, and politely added an “Is that right?” when the rhythm called for it, until finally her cup was empty and she put it down with a regretful look.

She leaned back in the chair, sinking into the thick cushion. She glanced towards the exit. It seemed very far away, but she knew it was not. “This is nice,” she said. “It feels good to shut the troubles of the world out, at the door… if only for a little while.”

He blinked, and looked at her curiously. “Is everything alright?”

She hesitated, and let out a breath. “I am only exhausted… My sister and I had a meeting, before I came here, to discuss the diplomatic summit. There is so much to be done. So many things to consider, and so many high hopes that could be dashed… And it wearies me.”

His face hardened. “Horse apples,” he muttered under his breath. “Of course you’re exhausted. I’m supposed to be your adviser, but while you’ve been out working to keep Everhold running I’ve been holed up here doing research, and not been any help to you at all.”

Luna blinked, her train of thought suddenly staggered. “That… I appreciate that,” she said softly. “It’s… nice… of you to care. But please don’t let it bother you. Besides, my sister wishes to keep the ponies involved in the discussions at a minimum. Even though rumors fly faster than griffons, and it seems the court hardly speaks of anything else lately. I’m sure you’ve heard all about it.”

He was silent for a moment, glancing towards his telescope. “I’ve been avoiding it,” he admitted. “I sort of figured that if anypony wanted my opinion, or wanted me to do anything, they would ask. And since nopony did… I went on with my own work instead.”

“I think my sister appreciates that, honestly,” Luna said sadly.

He nodded, reluctantly. “Yeah. Do you want to talk about it? I’ll listen if that helps.”

“Indeed?” Luna raised an eyebrow with feigned surprise, and a playful smile. “The word around Court is that the Royal Astronomer listens to nopony.”

“If it’s you, I will permit it,” Star Swirl said. He poured himself a fresh cup of coffee, and after a moment’s thought, poured one for her as well. “At least you and your sister pushed King Blaze to come to the table. That’s a good start.”

Luna said nothing while her sister droned on about their arrangements, and remembered Griffon King Blaze.

Luna still remembered the Day of the Dragons, when she fought side by side with the young warrior who would unite the fractious peoples of the mountain peaks under one banner, and one crown.

She remembered the uncertain pact they had brokered in the shadows, so far from home, in a crumbling hovel. How it had only been the two of them, alone in that hostile land, with only their word.

She remembered the haze of doubt her own soldiers had carried upon the morrow as they flew into open skies above the spearing fields, exposed and vulnerable, and how relieved they were when the birds held their fire as they took their position before the Aerie.

She remembered the long day that followed under the burning skies while they held their ground, together. And the joy they had felt when the sun finally set, and the dragons’ breath fell silent, made it seem, at long last, that anything was possible.

There must be a poison in history, Luna decided, that they could go from that to this.

“We received word from the Griffon King’s ambassador,” Luna said glumly. “She will come. But she is bringing her own retinue of guards.”

Star Swirl thought about this for a moment. “And that’s bad?”

“It’s complicated,” Luna said. “It is customary among equals to not bring one’s own guards into another’s court. The rules of diplomacy charge us to protect and respect the freedom of any emissary, even your most hated enemy. By bringing her own guards into Everhold the ambassador is signaling her lack of faith in these talks.”

Star Swirl pursed his lip. “That doesn’t seem like a great starting point,” he admitted.

“Indeed not. And security is what has been weighing on my mind.” She stared down into the shimmering lights in her cup, as if trying to glean hints of the future from their constellations. “There is a griffon spy in the dungeons. Oh, we caught her before she could do anything – she was not even trying to conceal herself, and we don’t know what she hoped to achieve… There will be a Triumph soon, a great feast in honor of an officer who fought heroically, and though Celestia does not see it, I worry that this can only complicate the peace talks. I have been poring over Everhold’s security for days and nights on end, and I cannot shake the feeling that I am missing something… The Shadowbolts will be watching over the summit. My elite guards. The finest warriors and intelligencers in all the lands of ponies. But my sister doesn’t trust them, because…” She shook her head. “I don’t even know why. She just doesn’t. She has her own ideas.”

“What even goes into these talks?” Star Swirl asked. “What’s there to argue about?”

“A great deal, though most of it is left to my sister’s bureaucrats. Still, there are major points that remain. At the heart of it sits the contested city of…” Luna sighed. “Even the name of the city is a problem. What’s in a word, Star Swirl? A great deal, as it turns out. We call the city Stalliongrad. The Griffons call it Falcongrad. If we use our name we insult them, and vice versa. But if we use theirs we show weakness, and risk jeopardizing our position. So we talk around things. We never address them directly. Publicly we seem to make peace for the love of peace, while privately…”

“It’s like the Sphinx all over again,” Star Swirl grumbled. “Is it all displays and sleight of hoof? This almost sounds like a magic show for foals, not a negotiation.”

“It often seems that way to me,” Luna said quietly. “We have an audience: the world is watching us. We must perform diplomacy, rather than commit it, to put on appearances… Celestia is better at this than I am. She does not care that there are always ponies watching her.”

Star Swirl frowned. “Who cares what they think? You’re the Princess of the Night.”

“It is sweet of you to say so, but even we are not untouchable.” She looked down into the black, shimmering fluid in her cup, and watched it swirl. “Ponies are always watching. Make one single mistake, and the whispers start to flow. There is always somepony else who thinks they could do better.”

She put her cup down, and there was silence for a moment. Luna stood up and stretched her back, regretfully. “Well… Time is passing. I suppose I should get back to work. It was good to see you again, Star Swirl.”

The young stallion sat deep in thought, looking at nothing. “Yes,” he said quietly. “Sorry I can’t help. I know I made a mess of things the last time I tried diplomacy.”

Luna hesitated. She cast a look at her student in his strange robes, covered in symbols of night-time, and remembered a taste of prophecy.

“We have not yet seen the full accounting of what happened in Saddle Arabia,” she said. “Do not be so hard on yourself. Your spell is remarkable. Perhaps it was meant to be thus.”

He said nothing in response. She looked around the chamber, with its gadgets and its charts. “Ever since you came back from abroad you’ve been cooped up in here.”

He looked up at her, and blinked. “It’s a marvelous laboratory. And… I think everypony prefers it if I stay here.”

“You have never been the sort to worry about what others think of you,” Luna said. “You should go out there, Star Swirl. You should get to know Everhold, get to know the Court. Learn what it’s like… And it would help us, I think, if they got to know you.”

“Oh.” He grunted reluctantly. “If that’s your wish, Princess. I’ll try.”

Luna gave him an encouraging smile. “It’s not all terrible, my good astronomer. Go to one of the dinner parties, I know you get invited even if they don’t expect you to appear. Enjoy the entertainment. One of these days you should go say hello to the royal gardener, she’s a friendly pony. You might appreciate her commitment to her craft. It almost rivals yours.”

“Well… I am running low on some herbal reagents.”

“It shouldn’t be all work, Star Swirl,” Luna said. She looked at him uncertainly, like a mother sending her foal to school for the first time. “Try to be on your best behavior. For me?”

“I…” He looked uncertain, and unhappy, and he tried to conceal it when he looked at her eyes. He nodded. “Yes, your highness.”

– – –

So it was that the next evening found Star Swirl attending his first Everhold dinner party.

There were at that time three upcoming events for him to choose between. The invitations had all been delivered to his apartments in very expensive-looking envelopes and written in fine calligraphy on large cream-colored sheets that, to his eyes trained at the university, looked more than anything else like a colossal waste of good ink and paper. They all announced the station of the host and promised an evening unlike any other, and they all requested the presence of the Royal Astronomer because the Royal Astronomer was an official of the Court, and no other reason.

Knowing no difference between them he picked, at random, the one with the gold thread running around the edge of the paper. And when the scheduled time came he put on his robes and set out through the halls of the castle to the appointed location.

The event – all three of the invitations shared this – was to take place in the Solar Wing, a place Star Swirl had not had any occasion to visit until then. It was in the part of the palace that was open to the public, where visitors and guests and petitioners would wander and admire. And as Star Swirl had spent most of his time in the below and behind the scenes where the staff kept the palace running, he was not quite sure what to do when he arrived at the Sunrise Gate to present himself with his invitation.

He stood around for a bit, as ponies in fine evening wear passed by going to and fro and while royal guards stood impassively by the walls, before he decided to look for the correct room within, and stepped through the gate.

It certainly was extremely solar: the walls and floors were all coated in smooth bright marble, a sharp contrast from the neutral grey of the palace general, all whites and golds and occasional reds, as well as draperies and carpets in the softer tones of the Princess’s aurora-like mane. Suns and daylight-themed ornamentation and decoration was everywhere, and Star Swirl’s dark blue robe made him stand out sharply everywhere he stood.

The white marble vista was also broken up by a large art collection. Each piece was accompanied by a little sign showing who had created it, and which generous patron had donated it to the palace. As Star Swirl followed the servant he passed a plinth atop which stood a golden statue of the allegorical figure of athleticism, Pteronika: a pegasus reaching upward, her entire body and her wings stretched out, raising, or throwing, or seizing a sphere that also looked very much like a sun.

After a minute of aimless wandering he heard somepony behind him. “I say, you must be – you’re the astronomer?”

Star Swirl turned to see a stallion in a very dapper jacket looking at him curiously. He nodded.

The stallion beamed. “Oh, welcome! Please, come join us.” He led Star Swirl through the art gallery. “I didn’t know if you were coming,” his host said amiably. “We are dining in the Glasswing Chamber. It was furnished by the Diamond Doge himself you know. Some ponies wait many months for a chance to see it.”

The stallion led Star Swirl through a door to a dining chamber that indeed richly and artfully decorated from floor to ceiling, giving the impression of walking through a Reneighssance painting. There were already drinks served at the table, and a few other guests were already there, chatting among themselves, with one richly dressed lady speaking in theatrical tones and gesturing evocatively with her wings as her audience chortled. Another sat at her seat by herself, a yellow earth pony mare in a relatively simple green dress who seemed deep in thought, and she glanced up at the newcomer as he entered.

Star Swirl however found his eyes pulled upward. Above the dining table, one wall of the chamber was fully dominated by an enormous portrait of Celestia herself.

The host followed his eyes, and nodded. “Magnificent, isn’t it?” he said with a grin, and Star Swirl nodded. “It depicts the first sunrise after Discord’s defeat, and the promise of a bright future for all ponykind.”

It did indeed depict that. The princess gazed out across the landscape with a face of wisdom and serenity, while the sun rose above the mountains in the distance. Below, and small and insignificant by comparison in the middle-distance towards the edge of the canvas, was a shape that was only indistinctly recognizable as Discord enstoned.

“Why isn’t Princess Luna in it?” Star Swirl asked. “Is there a matching painting in the Lunar wing?”

“Possibly,” the host said, before moving on to greet his next guest.

More ponies arrived, ponies Star Swirl had never met who all seemed to know each other judging from their interactions, and he was introduced to a great many of them in a very short span of time, and then a bell rang and he was led to his seat at the furthest quarter of the table as the first item was served.

Star Swirl looked at the bowl of flower-scented water that had been placed before him. “And this is… soap?”

“It’s all the fashion in Prance,” the host said from behind him as he trotted by. “It was shipped all the way from Mareseilles!”

The other ponies washed their hooves and dried them on little towels, and Star Swirl attempted the same. “You know, in Saddle Arabia the Bedouin camels wash by bathing in sand, and brushing it off to clear away the sweat and grime.”

The lady sitting opposite him raised a finely painted eyebrow archly. “How… fascinating.”

The food came in multiple small servings at a rapid pace, and though Star Swirl never had any idea what was happening, and found that there were limits to how much he wished to be surprised by his food, he nonetheless had to admit that the meal was pleasing to at least three senses. In addition to taste and smell the main course was also arranged on his plate in the form of an image of a flowery coastal landscape, which he felt rather odd dismantling and devouring. But it tasted good nonetheless.

After the meal conversation, never entirely dead, rose up again, mostly talk about what other ponies Star Swirl did not know had said, or done, or would do. But inevitably the topic turned to the event that was on everypony’s mind.

“I say, sir astronomer,” a jovial voice said from a few seats down, “we were discussing the peace talks, just taking the temperature, so to speak, and so far the table seems to be evenly divided between ‘for’ and ‘against’.”

“You are the Princesses’ royal astronomer, are you not?” one of the other guests asked, slurring slightly over a glass of wine. “Have you checked what the stars foretell for the meeting?”

Star Swirl was silent for a moment. “The stars are watching us closely, and they are worried,” Star Swirl said. “They do not always speak clearly. And they do not always care about the same things ponies do. I don’t know if the stars understand the idea of war.”

“So any chance they’ll let us know who will win the races next week?”

Star Swirl did not let out a growl of frustration. “The stars know a great deal about the future. But the position of stars and planets isn’t advice for what to put in your salad tomorrow,” Star Swirl said testily. “They see the world very differently from how we do. They care about things in ways most ponies cannot comprehend. You don’t ask them simple questions, you work to understand their way of thinking and you gain knowledge… I have made tremendous discoveries from exploring the stars. The secret knowledge of the cosmos is written in the night sky, and Princess Luna has given me the tools I need to bring that knowledge down to earth.”

“But how can you think that you will learn things in the dark?” an old unicorn mare, whose hint of condescension was purely habitual, asked sincerely. “Discoveries only emerge in the light, that’s why they call it enlightenment. Why, as one pony recently told me, physical, mental, and spiritual darkness are all the same thing.”

Other ponies nearby nodded and mumbled their agreement.

Star Swirl tried to be neutral and not glower, and failed. “And who was that?”

“Oh! A most intriguing stallion,” she said, oblivious to his glower. “A Cavalier, he was… I didn’t catch his name, but he cut a striking figure. It was at the home of the Diamond Doge, we’re good friends you know, and the Doge himself was so impressed with him that they spoke together at length, and the entire company could not but stand and listen. He spoke with such passion and conviction! He said that he always distrusted things that lurk in the dark and he was never disappointed. He said he was pleased that at least his enemies faced him in the day as honest ponies, and he would rather trust an enemy in the light than a friend in the dark. He was the toast of the company.”

“Such a shame he had to leave early,” another pony said, and there were nods of agreement running down the table, and the conversation continued as each pony related where they had been, and who they had spoken to.

Star Swirl remained silent until the meal was over. And when the table was cleared he left, deep in thought, having been to his first social engagement, and set out for home.

– – –

In Princess Luna’s private office, two blue ponies sat across the table from each other, one waiting, the other reading.

“Proposal for a change in the laws of road management and the construction of a highway, brought by Margrave Baron Whiteblood the 14th, and the Diamond Doge of Veneighzia,” Luna read from the cover letter. She looked at the young unicorn stallion who sat quietly before her, looking patiently respectful. “Baron. Thank you for coming.”

“Your majesty. I am honored for the invitation.”

“This is only a formality,” Princess Luna said to Blue Horn, one of the youngest and most recent arrivals to the court. “I have read your proposal. I only wish to ask you a few questions.”

Blue Horn sat in awkward patience, and made a weak laugh. “I will do my best to answer. What do you want to know?”

“What is it you hope to achieve, Blue Horn?”

If he noticed her use of his birth name he gave no sign of it. “This plan will streamline travel and transport between Whinnienna and Veneighzia, and enrich both cities and their surrounding regions.”

Luna looked down at the thick legalese print. “It is quite polished. Specific, thorough, well-informed about the details. Not bad, for someone so new to the court. And the Diamond Doge is a busy pony. You must have worked hard to catch his eye.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

“And I understand you were a student at my academy of magic. So in addition to an arcane education you understand the language of court policy, which is no mean feat. I gather you didn’t learn it from your predecessor.”

Blue Horn shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “No, your majesty.”

Luna nodded. “I knew your father, you know,” Luna said suddenly, putting the leather binder aside. “I suppose that’s hardly surprising. He was an influential figure in the court.”

Blue Horn tilted his head, maintaining a respectful mien. “Yes. He was.”

“I did not like your father,” Luna said. “In fact I found him quite viscerally repulsive.”

Blue Horn blinked. “Yes,” he said again. “He was.”

“I want him at the ceremony,” Celestia said.

“I don’t,” Luna replied.

“It will have great symbolic weight. His father led the war, the son makes peace. It will signal the closing of the chapter. The historians will love it.”

“His father was loathsome,” Luna said. “And I do not trust the son. It’s a strange coincidence that he just happens to show up just now, when this treaty is perched on the knife’s edge, don’t you think? And my dreamwalks have been ominous of late, and full of worry. No, sister. I don’t like it, and I don’t like him. I can’t believe that you’re inviting more risks into this, don’t we have enough already?”

Celestia sighed. “You haven’t even met him, Lulu.”

“Do you know, the last time your father came to me he wanted my support to start a war. Now here you are just as we are trying to end one.” She watched him idly for a second as he pondered how to respond to this, visibly uncomfortable. “You look like him, you know.”

“I do not,” the young blue unicorn blurted out, a sudden sharp edge in his voice. “Is that a joke?”

“Well, of course not in the obvious things,” Luna said, waving a hoof. “It’s in the shape of your chin, the pattern in your irises, the way you tilt your head as you speak, the way your lips move when you want to sneer but you’re forcing yourself to smile instead. See, you’re doing it right now.”

His face turned neutral, and resentful.

“So often when ponies want me to sign off on something it is because they want to use me,” Luna said, “And I see that you are full of anger, Blue Horn. But it is not directed at me. That is refreshing, and in its own way, unsettling. Allow me to ask again. What is that you hope to achieve?”

“Everything,” he said. He twitched, and looked her in the eyes, and she saw the fire burning inside. “You’re right, your highness, I’m not here for selfless reasons. I’m going to be greater than my father. I’m going to be everything he was and more. And I’ll do what it takes to succeed.”

Luna maintained a neutral face. “And this proposal?”

“The Diamond Doge thinks I’m young and stupid,” Blue Horn said. “He thinks this deal will profit him at my expense. He’s wrong. I’m going to overcome them all. I’m going to be greater than my father ever was. And if anypony, or any creature, stands in my way then I’m going to destroy them. Is that honest enough for you, Princess?”

Luna looked in his eyes and saw that he was utterly committed to every word, and did not care if she knew, and Luna saw another similarity to his father.

“I see,” she said. “That will be all, Baron. Thank you for your time.”

– – –

Star Swirl slunk homewards through the lower halls of the palace, pondering the memory like picking at an open sore. “Meet the ponies,” he muttered to himself. “See what it’s like… Be on your best behavior.” He sighed. “Strangers are hard. I wish there was somepony I could talk to about magic, at least that would be interesting.”

He passed another unicorn in the hallway, and reflexively nodded at him. The other unicorn did the same. Then they continued trotting for a few seconds before they both slowed, and turned to look at each other.

It was Star Swirl who broke the silence. “Blue Horn?” He asked. “Is that you?”

“Star Swirl,” the other pony replied. His voice was not friendly. “I haven’t seen you since—”

“Since Cambridle,” Star Swirl said.

Star Swirl looked at the pony in front of him. He recognized him, somewhat. The boyish voice that was more brash than deep, but with a depth of bitterness that sounded like it belonged to a pony twenty years older. The face of somepony with too much to prove.

“...Since you were expelled,” Blue Horn finished.

Star Swirl face turned to stone. “That wasn’t my fault.”

“Of course not.” Blue Horn looked over Star Swirl briefly and Star Swirl saw a hint of amusement flicker across his face and disappear. “What are you doing here? Trying out for court jester?”

Star Swirl’s jaw clenched. “Princess Luna made me her royal astronomer,” he said.

Blue Horn glanced away. “Of course she did,” he said under his breath. He looked back to Star Swirl. “Just like before, eh? We saw how well that worked.”

Star Swirl’s eyes narrowed to a glare. “I thrived at Cambridle, in spite of the professors, because I understood magic like nopony else.”

“And nopony else understood you at all, because you can’t contain your brilliance in words other ponies can read,” Blue Horn said flatly. “And then you were shocked to get bad grades.”

Star Swirl tensed up tighter, and drew a slow breath. “I remember your work as well, you know. I always thought you’d become a necromancer, since your papers were graveyards where good ideas went to die, and where decayed scholars were raised from the dead to devour the brains of the living.” He huffed. “The professors might have loved your drivel. But at least I have ability.”

Blue Horn smiled, just to show teeth. “I did the work, Star Swirl. You may have run around Cambridle with your head in the clouds but I understand these ponies in ways you never will. I’m used to spending days and nights reading olden scholars with their heads up their plots, and writing down arguments I don’t believe in pretty words while ponies climb over each other and pretend it’s about something bigger than themselves when in fact they all believe there is nothing bigger than themselves. You couldn’t function at school, Star Swirl. Do you really think you’re going to do any better here?”

Star Swirl grimaced in disdain. “Honestly? I’m thankful,” he said. “At school they thought the two of us were alike. Unicorns born from earth pony families, both come to Cambridle to study,” A jolt of discomfort flashed across Blue Horn’s face, and Star Swirl smiled inwardly. “If they weren’t so completely wrong about everything, the fact that they like you so much would worry me!” He shook his head. “So why are you in Everhold anyway? Cambridle is a long way from here.”

Blue Horn’s eyes narrowed, his teeth clenched and then relaxed as he raised his head high. “I am Baron Whiteblood,” he said gravely. “The fourteenth Baron Whiteblood, the Count of the Marches.”

“Whiteblood?” Star Swirl paused to think for a second. He knew the name, as everypony did, from the war reports that were cried out in every town and village: the pony who had kept the war alive, until it killed him. “That warmonger from the old earth pony nobility? What’s he to you?” There was a moment of silence and then it clicked. Star Swirl’s mouth fell open. “He was your—?”

“My father died without ever bothering to tell me he was my father,” Blue Horn replied bluntly. “It was only then that my mother decided to tell me I was her son, rather than an embarrassing distant nephew they had taken in out of the goodness of their hearts.” Blue Horn stepped up to a window and looked out at the spires of the castle with a wistful, ironic glare. “And so it was that after a lifetime of neglect the only thing I got from them was a title, and a portfolio of deeds and responsibilities they never saw fit to prepare me for. So now I’m here, learning to frame my face to all occasions. Does that please you, Star Swirl?”

“That’s messed up, Blue Horn,” Star Swirl said quietly. “So, what, you think now you’ve finally gotten what you deserve? That you’re going to show them all, and pay back all the insults at last?”

“That’s the strange thing, Star Swirl,” Blue Horn said. “You were born to be nothing. You’re a nobody, born nowhere, to other nobodies. But you’ve been given everything. Ludicrous magical power. A close friendship with a Princess, magical lessons, a high office in court… And none of it earned. Because for you, destiny had spoken! But me? I was supposed to be born with everything. And I had to work for all of it even so. Oh, I never had magic lessons from a princess in my dreams. I can’t call on more magical power than any other unicorn, but I struggled to read the sages and I mastered the rules of spellcraft as well as anypony. I know where the earth is beneath my hooves, and you don’t. So which one of us is the regular pony, really? Which one has risen above our roots?”

“Baron,” a pony appeared from a corner. “They’re waiting for you.”

Blue Horn nodded to the new pony and gave one last look to Star Swirl. “I suppose I’ll be seeing you around again,” he said, and the mockery in his voice was unmistakable. “So long.”

– – –

“Five degrees North… thirty-two degrees East… Full extension,” Star Swirl repeated the alignment to himself as he turned the Large Telescope to the desired coordinates.

He double-checked the numbers and verified that the telescope was looking at the correct spot, its lenses carefully fixed to focus at the proper distance, and the clock showed that the time would soon be right, to witness the Snub.

“The Snub” was the name given to a peculiar astronomical event between two certain young stars: when the two intersected in their paths they would deviate slightly to give each other wide berth – and then speed up ever so slightly once they’d passed.

This was Star Swirl’s first chance to observe the event himself, at a discreet distance, and he hoped to learn more about why it happened.

Or at least he would, if not for the noise. And the fact that pegasi were flying overhead in what was supposed to be a no-fly zone and blocked his line of sight.

The Astronomy Tower, stood on the far side of Everhold Castle, away from the lights and noise of Everhold town. It was a tall, narrow tower like something out of a foal’s story book, overlooking the Royal Guard training grounds. The grounds were a wide open, empty space on which the guard occasionally performed exercises.

Overnight it had turned into a massive army camp, covered in meticulously laid-out REAF tents and thick with uniformed soldiers. There was a party happening that would not stop, and pegasus soldiers were flying drunk and perching on every available nook and cranny of the tower exterior.

“This is like the student dorm all over again,” Star Swirl muttered to himself as he descended the spiral stair from the tower and stepped out into the fresh air of the training grounds. The fresh air was actually thick with kegs of cider. “Actually, this is worse. The students couldn’t fly.”

“Hey!” He shouted at the first pony he passed, a burly stallion pegasus ferrying more kegs. “Will this go on for long?”

The stallion turned and noticed him for the first time, and chortled. “What?”

“This!” Star Swirl waved a hoof expansively around him. “When are you stopping – all this?!”

“Not until Everhold runs out of hard cider,” he answered in a deep, laid-back voice. “Or until the Triumph.”

Two drunken mares in dress uniform shambled into view from behind a tent, laughing uncontrollably at something only they could understand. Upon catching sight of Star Swirl, one turned to the other and whispered something, which made the second burst into a fresh round of laughing. “Oh, I like the horn,” the first one said. “Hey bookhorse, wanna party with a gin-wine war heroine? Betcha we can show you something you won’t learn in class.”

“My schedule is full,” Star Swirl said, taking a step back. This only seemed to amuse them more. “Look, I just need you all to stay clear of the tower!”

“But the tower’s so good!” One of them said, laughing excessively. “So many places to perch!”

“We take orders from the see-oh,” the second mare said, her calm voice belying the appearance of intoxication. “That’s not you, sweet pokes.”

Star Swirl gritted his teeth. “So who’s in charge here?”

The stallion rolled his eyes and raised a hoof skyward. “The Commander.”

Star Swirl looked up in the air, and saw a squad of pegasi flying.

Or rather, they were not just flying; that was selling them short. Half a dozen of them were moving at breakneck speeds in close formation, as one, doing aerial combat maneuvers. He could hear them roaring in the wind, moving at such speeds that left contrails in their own colors in a trail behind them.

They would come together into a single line, as if to punch through a defensive formation, then break apart and double back to tear through the rout. They would suddenly form a wall, leg-guards held out in front as a shield six ponies big, then resume flying. They would spiral upwards at erratic angles, impossible to predict yet perfectly in tune with one another. At some signal Star Swirl couldn’t identify they would explode, each soldier suddenly acting alone for a second and a half, before falling perfectly back into formation. They would go from hovering in place to full speed in the blink of an eye, flying in a straight line at one moment and shifting jagged angles seemingly without losing speed in the next.

And all across the training grounds below them pegasus soldiers looked up and whooped and hollered and cheered, saluting their officers as they passed overhead. A roar broke out as the ponies performed a particularly elaborate maneuver, spiraling overhead before dropping like spears to decimate their foes. The cry was a single word, repeated over and over with a sound like thunder:

“Hurricane! Hurricane! Hurricane! Hurricane!”

After drinking in the adoration the fliers landed straight ahead of them, a half-dozen big strong stallions and mares grinning and strutting down the walkway with confident swagger. A loud, boisterous voice said something Star Swirl couldn’t make out, and his fellows laughed and cheered and bragged.

At the front of the pack, saying nothing but smirking, secure in her strength and power, was the Captain.

The pegasus mare had a blue coat, and a prismatic mane that was cut short and rose in spikes that kept out of her eyes. She wore the flight armor of the Royal Everhold Air Force, and her legs were strapped with leather and metal.

She moved like she could kill with every step she took, and with every step her subordinates followed her without question, and they were headed right towards Star Swirl.

“Who’s this, a clown for the feast?” Hurricane asked, and her cohort chuckled. “You got a problem, bells?”

“Your troops are making a mess and interrupting my work,” Star Swirl told her, standing up straight and attempting to look implacable in the face of the army. “I’d like them to stop, at least for the next hour.”

Hurricane made a single sharp “Hah,” and trotted past him, rolling her hoof. “Live with it, bells. We work hard, we play hard.”

A mid-sized stallion at Hurricane’s side said something only she could hear, and she turned. “Is that right? You’re Princess Luna’s new pet wizard?”

Star Swirl stood up straight and looked somewhat indignant. “I am her majesty’s Royal Astronomer and adviser on magical matters, yes.”

One of the other soldiers whistled, which set them off in a fresh round of laughter. Hurricane ignored them, and watched him thoughtfully. “I know you… You’re the one who made that huge mess in Saddle Arabia.”

Star Swirl tensed up, and drew a sharp breath. “We have not yet seen the full accounting of what happened in Saddle Arabia,” he said coldly. “As for me, I neutralized a great evil that threatened their realm. I didn’t make the Khalif and the Grand Vizier turn against each other. They did that all on their own.”

“The way I hear it you made a very impressive crater.” She smirked. “Never send a wizard to do a soldier’s job. Maybe we’ll go there next! It would make a nice change to get some sun, eh, fillies?”

Star Swirl felt a heat at the base of his horn. “Don’t underestimate wizards,” he said in a low voice.

“I’m sure you make very pretty light shows,” Hurricane said. “Mayhap you can whip up some fireworks for the Triumph.”

“I don’t make fireworks,” Star Swirl said. “I plumb the heavens for answers to the deepest mysteries of the universe, answers that will change the world. But I don’t expect you to understand that.”

Hurricane’s eyes focused on him chillingly. “Do you see this?” She raised her right foreleg and displayed the item that was strapped to it, a fixture of metal and leather embossed with the REAF sigil. “Do you know what it is?”

Star Swirl looked at it. “A piece of armor.”

With a flick of her ankle there shot out a knife-blade eight inches long, accompanied by a sharp click. With another imperceptible motion it slid back into its sheath. Star Swirl flinched at the motion, and Hurricane watched it with amusement.

“It’s called a tackblade. It has ten tools and three blades, at hoof’s reach at all times.” Hurricane grinned. “Have you ever seen a pegasus soldier fight, bells? It’s the art of the direct assault. Every limb is a weapon, and every motion is a strike.”

Star Swirl glanced at the pegasi massing behind her. Their wings were lined with metal blades. Their front hooves had metal horseshoes, an old traditional aid for long-distance wanderers which also served as a weapon for trampling and stomping your opponents underhoof. Their back legs had vicious spikes fastened to the back of their ankles that looked like they could rip a tree in half with a single kick.

Hurricane looked over her troops with satisfaction. “These are the heroes of Stalliongrad. The ponies that won the war,” she said with iron resolve. “We sent a full company of griffon warriors crashing from the sky. For that, I get the Royal Medal of Valor. Next thing you know the Griffon King sends an ambassador to beg us for peace.”

Star Swirl looked. “If the negotiations go well—”

“Why should we negotiate?” Hurricane snapped. “We're winning! We can break the Griffon Kingdom for good just by continuing as we are.”

There was silence for a moment, as their leader spoke and every pegasus stopped what they were doing to listen. Hurricane looked at them, and Star Swirl could feel something like iron binding them together. He looked into her eyes and he could see blood in the skies. “The Princesses can do what they want,” Hurricane said in a voice like a razor. “But if they let me… We could take Griffonstone tonight, and bring back King Blaze’s bloody crown by morning.”

Hurricane turned away without another word and took off, soaring high into the air faster than Star Swirl had ever seen a pony fly.

That night it rained on his tower, and nowhere else.

– – –

It was late one night, and the halls were dark, and Star Swirl crept from one shadowy corner to the next, cursing internally as he held his bells still in his magic to avoid making a sound while he perked his ears and listened for the hoofsteps of the guards. If there was any indication anything was wrong, they would surely come running, hot on his trail.

Hearing nothing, he relaxed, and brought up from beneath his robe the prize of his quest: a glass jar of white powder.

He had embarked on his mission because he had a need. Specifically for natron, a chemical used since ancient times in cooking and also mummification. And he had to do it in secret because, as he had learned, the lords and ladies of the palace kitchen did not take kindly to outsiders in their domain.

He was halfway back to his apartments when a voice behind him spoke his name, and he jumped as if he’d been zapped by lightning. With his heart racing he turned to see a pegasus stallion in a hooded cloak, who had not been there a second previously, facing him.

Contrary to his fears it wasn’t a palace guard or one of the warrior chefs. But he also clearly wasn’t a civilian. His coat was pale. Years past it would have been a rich blue, but it had whitened with age to the color of glacial ice, and his mane, what was visible of it, was a solid gray. But though his fur and the lines of his muzzle betrayed his age, he was tall and powerfully built. The cloak could not conceal the outline of his armor entirely, and while his eyes were hidden in the shadows of his hood, but Star Swirl felt the force of his attention as if it was a physical weight.

“You're a Shadowbolt,” Star Swirl said.

“Cold Wing,” the pegasus said. His voice was deep, and dark, and calm. He raised a bladed wing, his only motion, flexing it out to his side in what might have been a gesture of greeting. It rustled his cloak, and Star Swirl saw the dark metal armor underneath. “Captain-Commander of Her Majesty of the Night Princess Luna’s honor guard. And you are Star Swirl of Edinspur, Royal Astronomer and adviser to the Royal Sisters on arcane matters. I understand you have been getting acquainted with the court. It is time we spoke.”

“You could have just visited my rooms,” Star Swirl said. “Very well, captain, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. You know, I’ve never seen a Shadowbolt before. I could have used one of you in Saddle Arabia.” Star Swirl hazarded a smile. Cold Wing did not react. “What did you want to discuss?”

“The Royal Astronomer’s office falls under the domain of Princess Luna,” the pegasus said, in the same calm voice. “Your predecessor and I never saw eye to eye on certain matters. Your own nomination was contested. What I want to know, Star Swirl of Edinspur, is where your loyalties lie.”

Star Swirl blinked, felt his mouth flex as he swallowed unconsciously. “I serve the princess with all my heart.”

“Hmm.” There was a rustle of fabric and wings as the pegasus moved. “And what is your heart made of, unicorn?”

“Do you have reason to doubt me, captain?” Star Swirl asked. “I am a wizard. My heart is made of magic and starlight, and so long as I breathe I will not fail Luna in anything. Just put me to the test.”

“I do not test. I observe.” Cold Wing took another step forward. “I have heard the way the Princess talks to you, wizard. I remember when you first met.”

“The day we first – That was over ten years ago,” Star Swirl said.

“Yes. I was there. The Shadowbolts watch over our lady, Star Swirl. I have served the Princess since before you were born. I have known her in her wrath, in her grief, and in her mirth. You have known her for most of your life, and yet I can tell you, to her you are just a recent acquaintance.”

Star Swirl frowned. “What is your point, captain? Do the Shadowbolts not like the idea of some unicorn encroaching on their scene? Is this some sort of threat?”

“It is what it is,” Cold Wing said, taking a step closer. Star Swirl couldn’t see his eyes, in the darkness under the hood, even as he felt a chill from the stallion’s breath. “The Shadowbolts have served her majesty with absolute devotion for centuries. When a Shadowbolt dies, the greatest pegasi warriors come from every corner of the lands of ponies to compete for the honor to take her place. Not one among us would hesitate to give our lives for her.” Now the pegasus had stepped to the side so Star Swirl had his back to the stone wall, and drew closer. “I have heard the way she speaks to you. The way she smiles.” He stopped one pace before the unicorn. “She has hopes for you, Star Swirl. Not in all the time I have served her has she spoken to another pony the way she speaks to you. Princess Luna may be an immortal, but she is still a pony, and Star Swirl… if you disappoint her, if you let her down, if her hope in you is misplaced in any way… I will come to speak to you, and I will not be happy.”

They stood in tense silence for a moment, before Cold Wing turned aside and stalked down the corridor without another word.

“I’ll see you around, Captain,” Star Swirl muttered.

“No you won't,” Cold Wing replied. Then he passed through a shadow, and was gone.

– – –

Star Swirl stumbled and muttered to himself wearily he crossed the threshold of the gate to the Royal Botanical Gardens.

The Gardens covered a large stretch of land behind the walls of the castle, and not on the same side as his tower. It had taken him a while to find his way to it. But at last he was there, and looked out upon the lush, meticulous greenery.

The huge open space was in parts wild and natural and in other parts very carefully regimented and designed. A little creek ran through his field of vision lined with flower beds, hedges and rose bushes, trees competing with the stone wall behind him, itself covered in climbing vines, for height. A little wooden cottage stood off to one side, and outside it an earth pony mare stood on the grass, looking out silently across the vivid scene. She didn’t seem to notice Star Swirl’s approach, but looked like she was listening intently to something.

He walked up towards her. “Hello there,” he called out.

The mare raised a hoof. “Hold on,” she said, and waited for another few seconds before turning. “Sorry about that. I was just listening to the grass grow.”

“I’m… sorry I interrupted,” Star Swirl said. He cast a glance over the grass, but saw nothing. “Do you have a minute?”

“Don’t worry about it,” the mare said with a smile. Her coat was yellow, and her mane was rose red, fading to pink around the tips. Her face was completely without guile, and her voice was soft. Her mane was short, tied up behind her ears in a practical do, and her cutie mark was a bundle of fruits and vegetables that artfully took on the shape of a green pony. She looked him over. “You must be… You’re the new astronomer, right?”

“I am he,” he said, and raised a hoof. She bumped it. “Star Swirl of Edinspur. It’s good to meet another scholar.”

He raised a hoof. She bumped it. “Welcome to the Gardens! I’m Lily, the head gardener. I actually met you at that dinner party recently, didn’t I?”

Star Swirl blinked, thought back, and realized he vaguely remembered the mare who had sat several seats up from him, though he hadn’t spoken to her. “Oh! Yes. Sorry about that.” He shook his head. “I’ve been told I should get out more and meet other ponies. It’s… a challenge.”

“I can understand that,” Lily said softly, and Star Swirl heard that she meant it. “Everhold is rather hard to navigate at first… Physically and socially. But you get used to it.”

“I also got caught up in the rush of ponies stocking up the larder before the feast just now,” Star Swirl said, waving a hoof behind him. “The servants’ level is absolutely packed with wagonloads of hay and fruits. And guarded. The looks they gave me when I came close by the apple cart…” He shook his head in annoyance. “Anyway, I want to ask a favor. I assume the botanical gardens are well-supplied. Can I borrow some Heartroot? I need it for research purposes.”

“Heartroot? Why certainly, I keep some dried in my study at all times,” Lily said. “I have my own little lab. Nowhere near as big as yours, but I do a little alchemy now and then. Studying the chemical makeup of the soil, crossbreeding plants, that sort of thing.”

They walked towards the groundskeeper’s cottage. “Heartroot is supposed to have healing properties,” Star Swirl said. “I’m hoping to understand how it works.”

“Oh yes. But in high enough concentrations it’s lethal,” Lily said casually. They stepped inside the little cottage. Lily went over to a row of cupboards and rooted around in one, and emerged with a small labeled glass jar. “There! Dried and powdered Heartroot. Do let me know if you ever need more.”

“Thank you,” Star Swirl said, taking the jar. They stepped back outside, and Star Swirl took a few steps towards the door back into the castle. He cast a look around the garden, taking in the colors of the flowers, the whisper of the leaves in the wind, the play of shadows they cast on the grass. He heard the buzzing of heavy bumblebees, and the singing of birds, and his paces slowed, then stopped.

“This really is a beautiful garden,” Star Swirl said, and Lily smiled warmly in response. “The royal court is… a very busy place. It’s good to know that there’s someplace quiet enough to hear your thoughts.”

“The quiet is good,” Lily said, and Star Swirl nodded. “You have to keep your wits about you here in the killing fields.”

Star Swirl paused. “The what?”

“The war zone. The battlefield. The slaughterhouse.” She chuckled softly. “Whatever you want to call it, this garden is the place where mercy is banished and forgot.”

He looked out over the garden again. It remained empty and peaceful in the afternoon light.

“Oh, they might be quiet now but don't be fooled,” Lily said. “Plants are merciless killers, every one. Every flower, blade of grass, every fern and bush and tree are all constantly trying to kill all the rest and claim their territory. See this tree?”

Star Swirl looked at the tree. Its trunk was slim, with stone-like dark gray bark, and rose to a crown of red leaves that was thick with large flowers in shades of fiery yellows and oranges, with long petals like spikes. “It’s very pretty.”

“This tree has figured out a way to hire assassins to get rid of its rivals,” Lily said matter-of-factly. “It’s called a Dragonsneeze Tree. As the name suggests, dragons are deathly allergic to it. If a dragon came near it would erupt dragonfire all over the place… and conveniently kill off just about every other plant except the Dragonsneeze tree itself. Dragonsneeze trees are impervious to fire, but they can sense its heat. When that happens, you know what it does? It opens its flowers and releases a cloud of spores to seed the area with its offspring.” She chuckled.

Star Swirl stared at the tree with eyes wide in shock, saying nothing. Lily wandered over towards a second tree and hooked down a low-hanging shoot. “Every tree is its own thriving community, and like every community, is torn by internal tension. The outermost bud on every branch makes a poison that drips down the branch to keep down the others, stunting their growth, trying to keep as much of the sunlight for itself. The highest bud on a young sapling, if it survives long enough, becomes the king of the whole tree, shaping its growth. If the top bud gets killed off the next in line is happy to take over and continues keeping down every one behind it.”

She released the shoot and moved on to a nearby flower bed filled with blossoms of many different colors, from bright red to pink to orange, purple and white. Lily smiled. “Ahh… Poppies. So lovely, so colorful. I call them ‘war flowers’, because so many wars were fought over them.” She drew in a deep breath of its flowers. “With enough poppies you could bring the most powerful kingdom in the world crashing to its knees.”

Lily stood up. “You know that smell of freshly cut grass?”

Star Swirl nodded.

“That smell is a chemical warning signal to the rest of the grass, alerting them that they are under attack. They respond by releasing chemicals that turns their taste bitter, to protect themselves from us,” Lily said cheerfully. “You are smelling their screams.”

She always smiled, and her smile was always friendly and warm.

“While some trees are cunning and lay intricate schemes to reach their goals, others are much more direct. Like this one here.” Star Swirl looked at the next tree. There was a thick hemp rope hung up around it in a wide space, and a prominently placed red sign read DO NOT TOUCH in large red letters. Lily made an excited high-pitched sound. “This is the pride of my collection! It’s called Hippomane Mancinella. It means ‘little apple that drives horses mad’.” She grinned and pointed out its features. “As you’ve no doubt already guessed, its apples are poisonous. But it doesn’t stop there. The leaves and the bark are poisonous to the touch. The sap will burn your skin, or blind you if it gets in your eyes. If you burn it, the smoke will injure your eyes. If it rains and you seek shelter under its branches, the drops that fall from it will give you blisters. It just can’t bring itself to stop!”

Star Swirl stared at the tree in horror. “Why do you even have one of these?”

“Everything has a place in the garden!”

“And the sign?”

“The Princesses made me put that up. I didn’t want to. It breaks the immersion. And they flatly refused my request to add a Swamp Fever Tree just because ‘there is no cure’.” She pouted at the sign and shook her head indignantly, but then turned back and smiled. “When the fruits fall they rot, and poison the soil where they land, so no grass can grow there. It opens up more territory for the tree’s own seeds. The grass has its own ways of fighting back. The grass and the trees and the flowers are constantly trying to kill each other.” She sighed wistfully. “I love plants, I really do, but don’t turn your back on them for a second.”

“Well,” Star Swirl said, his head spinning. “This… was eye-opening. I should probably get going.”

“Oh! Yes,” Lily said. “I shouldn’t keep you. But if you ever need more poison, you know where to find me. Have a nice day!”

– – –

The sun and moon turned, and turned, and turned again, and then it was the day of the Ambassador’s arrival.

Star Swirl had been pulled from a very sensitive experiment at an early hour by a servant and summoned to report to the throne hall at the given time in his finest. And given that his wizard robe and hat was back from the tailor with all the scorch marks repaired and the bells sewed back on, his finest it was.

All the regulars of the court were present, it seemed, from the nobles to the custodians. In the mezzanine earls and countesses took their seats in bright tailored dress and gemstone brooches like they were attending a night at the theater. Closer to the throne Star Swirl saw the secretary of the Everhold Diplomatic Corps flanked by a small army of her underlings, paper-pushers, quill-climbers, and ink-divers, locked in last-minute discussion. Everywhere he looked ponies were talking to each other, nodding at some and avoiding others in a complicated network of entanglements.

Star Swirl found himself waiting by the wall as the minutes passed, wondering how long it would take, and whether the beakers would misbehave while he was away.

As the hall filled up the Seneschal’s deputies passed up and down, counting attendees and directing them to where they should stand with the air of arranging flowers on a table or pieces on a board, according to esoteric rules they did not feel the need to share. Star Swirl was pushed down to the farthest corner of the hall on the right side and instructed to stand straight and look dignified.

Across the hall, on a side stage, a quartet of musicians tuned their instruments and began to play a slow, but airy and light-hearted piece.

Star Swirl looked around from his post. The Princesses’ thrones were empty, and no other ponies set hoof on the dais. Royal guards in golden armor stood by to make sure of it. Glancing around, he spotted Lily at the back, looking very uncomfortable as she tried to stay pressed against the wall. She saw him as well, and he thought she was going to wave, but the crowd blocked her from sight and he didn’t see her again.

At the stroke of the hour a trumpet sounded and the crowd’s chatter fell silent. A herald in brightly colored clothing clapped his hooves sharply on the stone and proclaimed:

“All rise for their majesties, the Princesses of Everhold! Her Royal Highness Celestia Apollonia Helia, the Daybreaker, Princess of the Day, Charioteer of the Celestial Fire! Her Royal Highness Luna Selena Artemis Phoebe Noctis, Night-Mare Moon, Princess of the Night!”

The ponies stood up as the door at the back of the hall was opened, and the princesses emerged in their full regalia.

Luna looked out upon the assembled court as she entered, playing her part in the performance as she scanned the hall and took in the assembled faces. Her eyes fell on Star Swirl for a moment, dressed in his starry robes, and he looked to her as he shuffled his hooves to stand correctly in the press of ponies. Luna raised her sight to the mezzanine, and noticed that Blue Horn sat directly above him, both of them oblivious to the other.

The Princesses went to stand before their thrones and were still, and almost immediately another trumpet sounded from the bottom of the hall. A guard stallion clad in gold armor stomped the stone with the butt of his spear and proclaimed, as if in answer: “Announcing to Everhold the Ambassador of King Blaze and the Griffon Kingdom, Her Grace Lady Gale, Duchess of Torrent Aerie!”

Unicorn guards opened the door with magic, and the ambassador entered the throne room.

Star Swirl looked, and kept looking. Lady Gale was a grand griffon, far larger than a pony, clad in scarlet silk and wearing a fire ruby gemstone set in a gold necklace. Her claws were long and slim and sharp, her lion paws graceful and silent, and she was tall and narrow as a crane, giving the impression that she could at any moment snap you up like a fish from a stream.

Coming up behind her on either side was an honor guard of two mighty griffon warriors covered from their talons to their haunches in ceremonial full metal armor. Their helmets were crafted of thick metal bands woven together in an artful pattern, with no clear eye holes, giving the impression of hooded falcons. With every movement they gleamed in the candlelight, a dazzling and disorienting display that could easily distract from the long spears they wore slung across their backs, and the long knives they carried in their belts.

Star Swirl heard the whispers in the crowd turn to murmurs, caught a few furtive, doubtful glances among ponies for what this would mean.

The rest of the ambassador’s full retinue followed behind them, a long line of servants and advisers and experts walking stone-faced and stoic behind their leader as the music played.

Star Swirl’s ears perked up. As the procession filed in there was a strange sound, a deep thudding, that gradually became audible in the hall. The more sensitive members of the court had largely regained their composure as the griffons filed in, but Star Swirl spotted some ponies reacting to the sound, freezing up, looking around them uncertainly, urgent whispers. And then it emerged.

Everypony stared. Even Luna found it hard to look away. At the very end of the company of griffons there was a minotaur, fifteen feet tall, with iron-tipped horns that rose another two feet above his head. He walked in slowly on cloven hooves, each step landing softly but heavily enough to send a low rumble through the stone. One massively muscled arm rested on the shaft of a mace, holding it in place across his bare shoulder. The handle resembled nothing so much as the mast of a sailing ship, and the head was a ball of solid iron as thick as a stallion’s barrel, studded with spikes.

He looked to the little ponies like nothing so much as a giant monster that could smash down buildings on a whim. He wore no armor, and he glanced around the great hall as though bored.

Lady Gale moved proudly and slowly across the hall, making no reaction to the throng of ponies or to the reaction her company made on them, her eyes fixed ahead of her. She came to a halt before the throne, and met the princesses’ eyes, and only then did she smile. When she spoke her voice was graceful, and sharp. “Your majesties. I thank you for this warm welcome.” She bowed, swiftly and precisely, and some of the more nervous ponies twitched involuntarily at the motion. “His Majesty King Blaze of the Griffon Empire sends his greetings and well-wishes to the Princesses of Everhold. He asked me to convey his hope that these talks will be fruitful.”

“You are welcome to our court, Your Grace, and we also hope that we can work together to put an end to the bloodshed that has divided us,” Princess Celestia said. “Tonight we will share a feast. Tomorrow we will discuss how we can restore peace.”

With the start of the formalities thus concluded, the bulk of the crowd was relieved and released to return to their affairs. In the throne hall there was more music, and dancers, and jugglers, and the entertainment continued as the crowd thinned out. The hall was now somewhat more evenly divided between, on the one side, functionaries of Everhold and members of the court with knowledge of foreign lands, and the ambassador’s retinue on the other.

Star Swirl was about to leave with the rest of the crowd when a junior herald grabbed him, and informed him the Royal Astronomer was on the guest list for the dinner, somewhere near the very bottom. He found himself led along to the Royal Sisters’ own dining hall, where tables had been set with a great feast for four dozen ponies and griffons, and Star Swirl was shown to a seat at a far corner. A minute later the food was served and Star Swirl found himself picking at a salad and wondering if it had anything from the palace garden in it.

Seated next to him was the minotaur. The enormous creature had a plate piled high with… Star Swirl could only think of it as ‘offal’. It had been prepared specially by expert foreign chefs hired and flown by pegasus-drawn chariot to Everhold for the occasion, to be served to the griffons and to him, and his elbows moved constantly as he ate, often swinging alarmingly over Star Swirl’s head.

All around them the ponies did their best not to look. Most of those who did soon looked squeamish and pushed their plates away. But Star Swirl couldn’t help but watch in rapt fascination. In spite of his enormous bulky arms the minotaur wielded the cutlery with a deftness and agility Star Swirl found hard to put in words. The way the knife and fork flipped around in his fingers, the many digits operating seamlessly to switch between configurations to precisely cut, shuffle, pierce, or lift…

Alright, maybe there are some uses for it.

The minotaur noticed, and glanced down at the unicorn. “Have you never seen a minotaur before, little unicorn?” He spoke in an accent Star Swirl couldn’t place, and his voice was just a deep and rumbling as his massive bulk would suggest.

Everypony else at the table managed to suddenly focus on something else. Star Swirl felt the giant’s gaze on him.

Try to be on your best behavior.

“I have, yes,” Star Swirl said. “I saw minotaurs in Saddle Arabia. I think they were mercenaries as well.”

The minotaur shifted in his seat, and everypony nearby instinctively tensed, as if preparing to run. He looked down at Star Swirl. “I am not a mercenary,” he said in flat, heavy tones. “I’m a bodyguard.”

Star Swirl’s eyes darted left and right, and saw that all around them the others were suddenly studiously engaged in discussion elsewhere. “I mean, you were hired to use force if necessary. Aren’t they the same thing, in some ways?”

“I could argue they are exact opposites,” the minotaur said, looking down sideways at the unicorn. “Mercenaries fight wars. I’m a diplomat’s bodyguard, which means I am here to do the work of diplomacy as well.” He stabbed something with a fork, and ate it, chewing slowly while maintaining eye contact. “So diplomatic.”

Star Swirl blinked. “Alright then. Well… Welcome to Everhold. I’m the Royal Astronomer.”

“Hmm.” The minotaur looked thoughtful for a moment. “You know, I wouldn’t have thought there was much need for astronomy here, when you can just ask the pony upstairs to move the stars as needed.”

“That’s not how it works,” Star Swirl said. “The stars have their own ways of thinking, and of speaking to us, and that’s what I try to understand. You can throw a rock, but that doesn’t teach you much about how rocks are born.”

“Maybe if you throw it hard enough that would persuade the other rocks to talk,” the minotaur said. He reached out a massive limb, bulging with muscles, and presented his hand. “I’m Oaken.”

Star Swirl uncertainly presented his hoof. “Star Swirl.”

Oaken took hold of the hoof in his hand, squeezed it, and shook it.

“There!” Oaken said. “Now we have said our names and shaken on it, and that means we have opened a diplomatic overture between our nations. That is the law of Knossox.”

Star Swirl withdrew his hoof. “Well. In that case I should warn you that I have been strictly forbidden from engaging in diplomacy, so understand that nothing I say means anything at all.”

“Good,” said Oaken. “I’m not an ambassador, I’m a set-piece hired for a performance, and it won’t mean a thing.”

Star Swirl happened to glance up towards the head of the tables, where the princesses and the ambassador sat, and noticed that both sisters were watching him, Luna nervously, Celestia with stone-faced disapproval. It made him tense.

“We’re all hoping for peace here,” Star Swirl suggested. “I think I can safely say that.”

“Hoping for and believing in are two different things,” Oaken said. “As the great philosopher Atauraxes said.”

“I remember him,” Star Swirl said. “I read his paradoxes in school.”

“Peace is the greatest of all paradoxes,” Oaken said. “It only comes when you stop caring about it. Peace is achieved when you care deeply about not caring.”

Star Swirl frowned. “Sounds like a load of horse apples.”

“Apples?” Oaken said with a deep chuckle. “Melons. Minotaur melons! Huge and fecund!”

Meanwhile, at the head of the hall, Luna ate diplomatically from her salad, a few seats away from Lady Gale.

“I cannot say how pleased I am that you’ve come,” Celestia said to the griffon, who continued eating as she was addressed. “I know that we can settle this with words, rather than violence.”

“Indeed? And can we trust that you will be good for your word?” Lady Gale asked, somehow both casually and pointedly at once.

Celestia gave a soft chuckle, as if she had just been told a slightly confusing joke, and blinked. “Of course you can. We are not oathbreakers.”

“That is what an oathbreaker would say, as Count Garrul remarked to me recently.” Lady Gale said with a glance back to Celestia. She shrugged. “I wonder whether any deal we can agree upon will be accepted in Griffonstone. King Blaze is in no mood for humiliating concessions. It was only by a narrow margin that the court agreed to enter these talks, and they are prepared to walk away if the results are displeasing.”

Yes, and you know what King Blaze feels. Luna felt her blood begin to boil, and it stung even more to hear Celestia listen and nod along so calmly at the ambassador’s arrogant words.

“There is one particular matter I must ask about,” the ambassador continued, slicing a thin strip of flesh with her claw before picking it up between her talons. “I am curious about a certain soldier. I believe they call her Hurricane.”

Luna tensed up, feeling a chill grip her spine.

Celestia did not seem worried, but only nodded. “Indeed?”

“I understand she is receiving a unique honor: a Triumph.”

Celestia listened, her face neutral. “This is true.”

“The troops at Falcongrad said that she fought like a griffon. They know no higher praise than that.” She picked up the strip of flesh in her talons and placed it in her beak, chewed it, and swallowed it. “It would please me to meet her.”

Celestia nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “That can be arranged, if it would please you.”

Lady Gale demurred, and nodded. “I do hope so.”

Luna found that she had no appetite. She swirled her fork around her salad before catching herself, thought back to her foalhood and her mother’s voice saying don’t play with your food. She glanced across the hall, and her eyes fell once more on Star Swirl, locked in conversation with the minotaur.

So it happened she was looking away when without warning a cork popped, and the world exploded.

The high table suddenly flipped over with tremendous force, the great feast splattering everywhere and everyone, as if Discord himself had flicked it with his claw. Time seemed to slow down, the moments dragging out as the air filled with cries and a hundred faces turned towards the commotion. Celestia and Luna sat with identical looks of stunned horror on their faces as the ambassador recoiled in revulsion.

Star Swirl watched in shock, and was the first to immediately recognize what he was seeing: Cold Wing in mid-air, moving at speed, launched from where the table had just been flipped with his teeth bared in rage and with his tackblade extended as he hurtled directly towards the ambassador with his grey cloak gusting behind him.

Lady Gale saw him too, and reared up on her hind legs with a whip-fast beat of her wings, rising to her full height and seeming only slightly surprised, intent on looking her death in the face. Her guards were already moving but they were too late: by the time they closed ranks with blades raised to impale him Cold Wing had already passed between them, a blur of shadows and metal.

He closed and struck with a single thunderous crash, and then all was silence.

Lady Gale stood motionless, eyes frozen as her guards closed ranks around her, spears in their claws, wings spread wide. But she did not fall, and when she glanced down with shaking movements she found that she was unharmed, with Cold Wing behind her. He stood entirely still, his movement ended as suddenly as it began.

It was only then that they saw the diamond dog lying flat on her back beneath him, prone and whimpering in surrender, his tackblade pressed against her throat while a glass vial rolled on the stone floor by her paw, leaving drops of liquid that burned where they fell.

Author's Note

Gardening tips:
The truth about the smell of cut grass, including the line "You are smelling their screams", comes from here: https://twitter.com/DrunkPhyto/status/1168030570099675136

The Manchineel tree: https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/whatever-you-do-do-not-eat-touch-or-even-inhale-the-air-around-the-manchineel-tree

The story of poisonously ambitious buds is from this book: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Trees-Hugh-Johnson/dp/1845330552

I can't actually remember where I read the story about fallen fruit poisoning the grass, so I can't guarantee it with the same veracity as the others.

Happy gardening everyone!

Chapter 12: Labyrinth, Act Two

“This was a rare failure on your part,” the White Knight’s master said through the crystal. “I trust it will not be repeated.”

“No, master,” the White Knight said. If there was any fear, or shame, or hesitation in his tone no-one, except perhaps his master, could sense it. “The Shadowbolt detected my agent. I am still undiscovered.”

“Impressive,” the voice said with a hint of amusement. “I did not think he had it in him… But the Shadowbolts must not learn anything more.”

“They won’t. My agent will say nothing.”

“You had better be certain,” the voice said. “You have kept them distracted so far, but the Sisters must not learn of our plans. The materials you supplied in Whinnyenna show promise. The research is progressing well, the plan is moving on schedule, but we need to keep their eyes turned away from us. Do whatever you need to block the talks.”

“I will not disappoint you,” the White Knight said.

“I know you won’t,” the unseen voice said, leaving the reasons it knew unsaid, the weight of them well known. “Everhold is divided. Use that to your advantage. Do not leave until the work is done.”

“Yes, master,” the White Knight said. He looked out a window at the expanse of Everhold, full of ponies and their uncertainties. “I know what to do. Fear drives us to harm ourselves in ways that others never could. I will not fail.”

– – –

Labyrinth
Act Two.

“I told you!” Luna snapped. “I warned you something would happen but nooo, you knew better!”

“Calm down, Lulu,” Celestia said.

“I will not!” Luna cried. “Where are all your vaunted guards now, sister? Fill the castle with soldiers, you said! It will reassure them, you said! And now they have seen how useless it all was.”

“It would be better,” Celestia said sharply, “if our guards had worked together, as I wanted. You were the one who insisted that was not necessary.”

“My guards performed impeccably!”

“I hardly call barely interrupting an assassination at the very last moment ‘impeccable’! How did that dog get inside the palace in the first place? Why wasn’t she seen? There must be some hole in our perimeter.”

“And now Lady Gale,” Luna pronounced the name with thick disdain, “is going to play the martyr and use this for everything she can get. I do not trust her, Tia. Perhaps she is responsible for all of this.”

“She was almost killed, Lulu!”

“We don’t know that she was the target! She was sitting right next to us!” Luna’s eyes flared with dark fire. “This is my home,” Luna said, with a voice that could freeze an ocean. “A home is supposed to be peaceful. A home is supposed to be safe. But even here, secrets lurk unseen and conspire against us!”

“We will know more once the poison is analyzed,” Celestia said. “Do not say a word against Lady Gale, Lulu. We don’t want this to become even more difficult.”

“You still think you can work with her? I was listening to her, Tia. The woman is a joke! How can you put up with her arrogance?”

Celestia maintained a calm face. “I can handle Lady Gale, Luna. I speak her language. I can get through to her.”

“She was all but rejecting the peace talks outright, Tia! She does not trust a word we say! Or claims to, which is worse.”

“She is speaking to us, Luna. The question is, how do we read what she is saying? Is she sincere in her distrust, or is she just trying to put us on the defensive? Is she being adversarial, or collaborative? If we understand her we can work with her.”

“Collaborative?! She brought foreign mercenaries into our home, Tia!”

“Even this seemingly hostile gesture could be a form of communication, Lulu!” Celestia shouted. “What if she was warning us about the strength of feeling in King Blaze’s court? She may have let us know in order to give us a chance to prepare a response. If we misinterpret her we risk making things even worse!”

“And what of the Triumph?” Luna demanded. “I heard her speak of it. I told you it was a mistake, to bestow great honors on this slayer of griffons even as we pledge to make peace – we look like fools! Now she is going to throw Hurricane in our faces. Even before the violence she was preparing to squeeze you dry.”

“I know what I’m doing, Lulu. Hurricane has no bearing on this, I already told you.”

“Gurrrh!” Luna groaned in frustration. “I have had enough of this. You deal with Lady Gale, if you’re so certain of your new best friend. I leave it in your hooves. I will uncover those responsible for bringing bloodshed into our home.”

Celestia drew a deep breath. “Clearly we are going nowhere. I can contain this. Don’t make any rash moves, Lulu.”

Celestia turned and left, slamming the door behind her. Luna glared at the door for a few seconds, then turned away, muttering evil words to herself. “Guard!”

The pony stationed at the door opened it cautiously and peered inside. “Yes, your highness?”

“Bring me Star Swirl.”

– – –

The griffons were in their chambers, gathered together in the large suite where the ambassador had been quartered. Lady Gale’s warriors stood by the door in full arms and armor, knowing that on the other side of it pony guards stood likewise.

The room was bustling with activity, Lady Gale herself in the center as she instructed and directed her subordinates to plan for every eventuality in accordance with her wishes. They moved quickly with each command, occasionally casting suspicious glances towards the doors, as if expecting them to burst open with every moment.

“We are preparing your statement to to the Sisters, Your Grace,” Baron Gust said. “All the formalities are in order. Is there anything you wish to add?”

“Yes. It must include a demand that my guards interrogate the assassin,” Lady Gale said.

“Will the Sisters permit that?”

“No. But we will demand it nonetheless.”

“Yes, Your Grace. And if the ponies wished to kill you themselves, to escalate the war?”

“Then they failed, and they will rue the day. Also be sure to include that I look forward to meeting with Captain Hurricane.”

“Your Grace, is that really a priority at this point?”

“I am not easily distracted. I wonder if the ponies are. Proceed.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

One elderly griffon walked up to her and cleared his throat. “Your Grace, may I speak freely?”

Lady Gale turned her golden eyes on him. “You may.”

“Your Grace, my subordinates and I wish to ask if we are about to be put to death. If we are then we should like to know it, so that we may prepare ourselves to face our end with dignity.”

Lady Gale held his gaze for a moment, perhaps thinking it over, before she answered. “No, we are not.”

The elderly functionary bowed. “I will inform the others.”

“You seem very certain,” Oaken the Minotaur said. He was leaning against a wall, and if it hadn’t been solid stone any onlooker would have been forgiven for wondering if a mere wall could hold his weight. “They suspect a pony plot to kill you and escalate the war.”

Lady Gale turned her head ever so slightly. “This does not feel like the royal sisters’ work.”

“Hm.” Oaken shifted his weight. “So what have you decided?”

Lady Gale turned to her guards. “Bring in a pony. I have a message for the Sisters.” She turned back to Oaken. “I want you to observe the investigation. They will allow it, because I will threaten to walk away otherwise. You will be my eyes and ears and you will report back to me.”

Oaken nodded, somehow making the gesture noncommittal. “And you know that this is not my job and that I am not of your country or your corps.”

“Indeed.”

“Alright then.”

– – –

Star Swirl looked up at the tall, dark doorway deep in the Lunar Wing of the castle, a place of black and blue and silver halls stretching up to vaulted ceilings like starry skies, thoughts jumbling in his mind. He thought of the end of the banquet: the leap and crash, and the outcry that followed – the pony guards flocking, the griffons raising their spears, the minotaur rising ominously to his full height from his seat beside the unicorn – how sharp the blades looked as they glittered in the light, and how little it could take to make them swing – and then finally the confusion and fear as every guest was escorted to their chambers under heavy guard, in strict silence, left only to think about what had happened and what it might mean.

Star Swirl had thought up no answers before he received the summons.

Star Swirl stepped through the door into a dark chamber, and heard it shut behind him. The room was silent, and the silence was cold and tense.

“Star Swirl,” Luna said. In the center of the room was a table and the Princess sat at the far end, her wings extended backwards, illuminated by a cone of moonlight that left most of the room in pitch darkness.

He halted, and hesitated for a split-second before speaking. “You summoned me, your highness?”

She met his eyes, and they caught the moonbeam as sharp blades of pale light across her iris. “Indeed,” she said. “I have a task for you. Something that calls for your magical expertise.”

There was a sharpness in her voice that made his ears perk up. Though she sat impassively in her seat, regal and powerful, and though her face was cold, her eyes blazed with emotion that gave him pause. It reminded him of Night-Mare Night at Cambridle.

She’s not angry, she’s hurt.

He nodded. “I’m at your service. If it’s magic I can do anything.”

She brought up a small box of dark metal and placed it in front of him, and opened it to reveal two small items: a crystal vial with a tiny stopper, and a blank metal disc the size of a bit coin.

Star Swirl looked at them. “What’s this?”

“You’re the wizard, Star Swirl,” the voice of Cold Wing said from the shadows. The old pegasus stallion emerged from the dark, only his muzzle visible beneath the hood of his cloak, and stood beside the table. “You tell me.”

“The assassin was carrying these,” Luna said. “What can you tell us about them?”

I won’t let her down.

Star Swirl approached the table and looked at the items: a crystal vial with a tiny stopper, and a metal disc the size of a bit coin. One side of it was plain and unmarked, the other was embedded with a tiny magic-charge crystal. He picked them up in his magic and channeled a spell, and they began to glow in his grip: the vial with a soft green light, and the coin with a stronger purple one.

“The glass vial has a warding spell on it, to protect it from shattering if dropped. It’s a standard spell for alchemical glassware. Otherwise it seems normal.” He turned to the coin and looked into the magical aura that surrounded it, and his eyes narrowed. “This one, however, is different.”

“How so?” Luna asked.

“This thing is thick with enchantments, layered one on top of another. It seems to be a magical tool of some sort, with a series of enchantments, keyed to a particular magical signature. The assassin’s, I guess.” He reached out with his magical senses and tried to trace the intricate bindings, following from one enchantment to the next. “It would take a skilled wizard to create this. I wonder who could…”

There was a momentary shift in the magic, as if a dark hole suddenly opened where there had been a wall a moment before, an empty gap and a gust of cold air.

Star Swirl jolted, and the coin fell to the table.

“This thing is dangerous.” With a flash of his horn he cast a spell and conjured three concentric bubbles of magic around the coin, sealing it within. “It must be kept securely contained.”

“Why? What did you see?” Luna demanded.

Star Swirl glanced warily at the glowing sphere that held the coin. “There is someone on the other side of those spells. Someone watching,” he said tersely. He heard Luna gasp and saw a flash of emotion flicker across her face before it was quickly suppressed, her mouth curling into cold authority. “Someone who was feeding information through them to the wielder, directing them. Someone who might have been watching us even right now.”

“Where?” Cold Wing demanded.

Star Swirl shook his head. “The way those enchantments were woven, so compact… Not far. Within the palace, probably. They may even have been in the hall when it happened!”

Luna drew a sharp breath. “Can you track them?”

“I’ll find out,” Star Swirl said. “I should bring this back to my lab. I can secure it properly there, and study it. If need be I can tear this thing apart to pick out its secrets.”

“Curses and blights,” Luna said. “Captain, do everything in your power to find whoever is responsible for this.”

“Yes, your highness,” Cold Wing said.

“Where is the assassin now?” Star Swirl asked. “If I can see her I can sample her magical signature, that could help unlock this item’s powers.”

“She is locked in the dungeons,” Luna said. She turned to Cold Wing. “Captain, bring Star Swirl down there. I want you to keep him appraised of the investigation in every particular.”

Star Swirl glanced to the grim pegasus uncertainly.

Cold Wing shuffled his wings. “With all respect, Your Majesty, I don’t believe that is necessary. If more magic expertise is required I will request it, or inform him of things relevant to him.”

“No. Star Swirl will follow the investigation fully,” Luna said, looking from the pegasus to the unicorn. “I know I can trust the two of you. I want you to work together. There is treachery within these very walls, my ponies. The assassin could not have done this alone. She must have accomplices, and even now they may be plotting another scheme to make up for her failure. You must not allow this to happen. The peace talks, even all of Everhold, hangs in the balance. Find out who helped her, and what they are planning, and stop it. Understood?”

Cold Wing saluted. “Yes, your majesty.”

Star Swirl nodded. “Of course, Princess.”

“Good.” Her wings ruffled, a brief flurry. “You are dismissed.”

– – –

A few minutes later the two of them were in the dungeons, deep in the lowest levels of the castle.

Star Swirl gingerly stepped down the narrow and dimly lit corridor, lined on either side with heavy barred doors. At either end of the passage royal guards stood watch, and Star Swirl saw two more guarding a particular door.

He looked in the narrow barred window at the diamond dog chained within. She was neither large nor imposing. She resembled a Scoltish terrier, slim and light, with pale yellow fur that was almost white, long and straight. She sat silently on her haunches, staring guiltily down at the floor.

“That’s her?” Star Swirl asked. “She doesn’t look like an assassin.”

“Anyone could be, with those tools,” Cold Wing said. “She had the will to carry it out. That’s all that matters.”

Star Swirl nodded. “Have they learned anything?”

“The Royal Guard questioned her,” Cold Wing said. “She didn’t say a word.”

Star Swirl nodded again. It was clearly not because she had nerves of steel: sitting in her cell the dog seemed terrified of everything around her.

But mostly she seemed so deep in despair that the fear did not matter. As if, since she had already failed her task, there was nothing more they could do to her.

It unsettled him somehow. The claustrophobic atmosphere of the dungeon wore on him, and the abundance of heavily armed guards weren’t helping. His horn glowed for a few seconds in a shimmering cloudy black-and-white as he scanned the diamond dog. “There. I have her magic signature. That’s all I needed,” Star Swirl said. “Is there anything else we can do here?”

Cold Wing exhaled slightly, and managed to put scorn into the gesture. “The Princess wanted you involved, wizard. So what can you do?”

Star Swirl bit his lip and glanced back at the diamond dog. Within the cell she twitched and turned suddenly, looking around her nervously, before returning to staring at the floor, sniffing and whining.

What do I do about this? The question hung in his head.

I’m not a constable of the Palace Guard. I don’t know how to question a diamond dog, or run a criminal investigation.

How do I get somecreature to confess to me?

Nopony talks to me. And that suits me just fine.

But I can’t disappoint the Princess.

He bit his tongue behind his closed mouth.

I defeated the Queen of the Golden Sands. Surely I can do this.

So what can I do?

I can look into her thoughts and see what she’s afraid of, like I did with the Kelpie.

I can subdue her consciousness and see what magic binds her, like I did to the Queen’s ghoul.

I can change her perceptions to make her think I’m a friend and that we’re in a safe place, and that she can open up to me.

He felt something stirring in the back of his mind, a source of tremendous magical power just waiting to be used.

The Amniomorphic Spell can take a living creature apart.

I can do anything that’s necessary to make her talk.

His eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to speak.

“Hi!” a loud, cheery voice proclaimed from directly behind him, and Star Swirl jolted like he’d been struck by lightning and jumped away.

He turned, looking furiously around him before he saw the eyes in the barred window in the cell opposite the one they’d been looking at. “What?”

Cold Wing growled. “Guard! I told you to move her someplace else!”

“I’m sorry sir,” the beefy young stallion on guard replied. “That must have been the other shift, we just changed. I’ll get the keys, sir.”

“Oh, don’t mind them,” the new voice said happily. “Hi! You must be the brains of this operation.”

She waved. Star Swirl looked. Inside the other cell was a griffon hen whose feathers seemed to be dyed in all the colors of a very peculiar rainbow, and she grinned at him through the bars. Star Swirl was not sure he knew if griffons could grin through their beaks, but the evidence in front of him said yes.

“I’m Gladys,” she said, sticking out a claw through the bars. “Nice to meet you.

Cold Wing smacked her claw away with an armored wing. “Get. Back.”

“Oh phoo, you’re no fun.”

“Who’s she?” Star Swirl asked, bewildered.

Cold Wing growled. “A griffon spy. She was arrested a week ago.”

“I’m not a spy!” Gladys said, frowning at the Shadowbolt as she crossed her arms before her chest. “All you ponies say that and I don’t know why! Maybe you’ve only met griffons who are spies before? But that just means you need to get out more. That goes for everyone down here, honestly.”

“She walked up to the front gates and asked for directions to the throne room to see the Princesses. Since then she has been talking everypony’s ear off.”

“I just think you all need to lighten up,” Gladys said. She turned to the wizard, and her eyes lit up and she gave him a warm smile. “Nice to meet you, Star Swirl. But listen, don’t be mean to Laika. You’re not gonna get anything out of it and you’re gonna regret it in the end.”

“Who’s Laika?” Star Swirl asked. The griffon pointed to the other cell. “The diamond dog?”

“Guard!” Cold Wing snapped. “Has the griffon spoken to the assassin?”

“No sir,” the guard said hurriedly.

“Not where you could hear me, you goon,” Gladys replied. She looked back to Star Swirl. “Look, you seem like you’re at the crossroads where at least one way leads to you being a decent pony, and that’s good enough for me. So why don’t you talk to me instead? I’ll tell you about Laika. At least, what she’d tell you if she was talking at all, which she isn’t, and I respect that and you should too, she’ll talk when she’s ready. And then we can be friends!”

“It’s always like this,” the dungeon guard muttered.

“Enough,” Cold Wing growled. “The assassin, wizard. Do you have any ideas?”

Star Swirl opened his mouth to answer, but caught Gladys looking at him out of the corner of his eye. She was staring intently at him through the bars of the cell door, motionless. She was, in her strange way, looking at him like a predator looks at prey, and he felt a slight tingle in his ears.

“No,” he said. “Her signature is all I need. I can work with this.” Gladys’s stare softened, and she silently withdrew from the bars and vanished from sight.

“Fine.” Cold Wing said. “We are leaving.”

They walked away from the cells, back towards the staircase that climbed out of the dungeons, Star Swirl casting a wary glance behind him towards the griffon’s cell.

“We will continue our investigation,” Cold Wing said, drawing Star Swirl’s attention back. “I suggest you return to your chambers and study the weapons.”

“Oh. Yes.” Star Swirl nodded tersely. “I’ll find out everything there is to know. And if there’s any way to tell where it came from, or who made them, I’ll let you know.”

The Shadowbolt grunted what was probably an affirmative.

– – –

Star Swirl walked swiftly and tensely up the stairs from the dungeons to his lab in the astronomy tower, and sighed with relief as he closed the door behind him. Then he set to work.

He cast a spell to seal the door. Then, after a moment’s thought, cast a stronger spell to cut off the entire lab from any errant magical spells. He cleared a table to work on and brought out the containment box that held the coin and the vial, and brought out a selection of tools of magical analysis.

Just for good measure he grabbed his hat from its rack and put it on his head, the bells along the brim jingling as he pulled it into place. He double-checked that his lab was secure from scrying eyes, and finally opened the box and took out the coin for closer study.

He stared at the thing through narrow eyes. “What exactly are you?” he said out loud.

He cast the spell to create a simulacrum and coded it with the diamond dog’s magical signature, and channeled a beam of energy through it onto the coin, watching to see if there was a response. And before his eyes it began to glow with magical energies.

His mouth curled up into a smile of satisfaction at a secret revealed as he bent forward to study the now-visible magical matrix more closely. It shimmered in the air as a complex network of magical connections. With a barely-conscious thought he took hold of the matrix with his horn and bent it, focused it, and separated it into a series of layers, one on top of another, linked together by a thick thread of magical energy that connected back to the charged crystal in the coin.

He pulled up a blackboard and wiped it clean, and without taking his eyes off the coin grabbed a piece of chalk and began writing notes as he examined the enchantments layer by layer.

He spoke to himself as the chalk raced across the board.

“The subject is an enchanted coin,” he said, “that works as a magical tool imbued with a selection of specific spells. It’s attuned to a particular creature’s magical signature, and will respond to its commands.” He brought up the coin itself and spun it slowly in his magic. “Its front face is blank. It has a small colorless crystal embedded into its back. The enchantments are layered throughout and across the metal, and are connected back to the crystal, which holds a magic charge and is used to power the spells. It is currently partially charged.”

He raised an enchanted monocular to his eye and looked at the intricate spellwork that layered across the substance of the disc.

“The first layer is an invisibility spell,” he said, as the chalk began to write complex magical equations. “The second layer is a spell that greatly enhances the speed and strength of the bearer when it’s activated. At a glance, it’s the most energy-intensive spell. Connected to it is a smaller enchantment that sharpens the bearer’s own senses: tactile sensitivity, sight, hearing, smell, time, temperature and arcane senses are all affected.” He leaned in close, his eyes eagerly running up and down to follow individual connections of thaumic current through nodes and channels in a variety of complex configurations. “It’s quite remarkable. I can understand how the assassin was able to slip past the guards and avoid detection with this. It’s clearly tailor-made for that purpose. Though it could also serve a stealthy bodyguard, perhaps. I’m sure Cold Wing can’t wait to get his hooves on this thing.”

With a flick of his horn Star Swirl pulled the layers apart, connected by a single strand of purple light like a glowing spider’s thread, and moved on to the next. His eyes turned serious as he stared at it. “Beneath that there are the other spells: a magic voice and magic eye. The assassin clearly wasn’t acting alone.” He focused on a particular nexus of bindings and studied it closely. “Through these, whoever sent her could have been watching her at work. It would only require a scrying tool of any sort, and the command word. And they were able to track her location as she carried out her mission, and to deliver spoken instructions that only she could hear. Even if somepony was watching for magic spells in the area there is a cipher on it that would conceal its nature.” He stared at the twirling coin. “Whoever is on the other side is probably trying to watch me right now. Thankfully the Astronomy Tower is designed for advanced magical experimentation, and I’ve made sure my lab is magically secured from scrying spells. I am completely isolated, perfectly suited for my work.”

He hesitated, glanced back at the door to the rest of Everhold with all its ponies, and winced.

The Princess told me to go outside. But my work here is important.

Magic runs the world, and nopony knows magic like me.

I won’t disappoint you, Luna.

“And it beats the dungeons,” he said. He turned back to the coin. “More general notes: In addition to its complexity the spellwork is very compactly and competently crafted,” he continued. “I see a Canter-Hayward channel for flux stability, and Eureka Wave-connectors linking the layers together. The Weave is laid down using vacuum-alignment techniques to keep the strands separate and prevent cross-thaumic interference between the layers. The matrix is packed tight into a sliver of thaumic space, allowing all of this to fit into such a little thing…” He sighed, shaking his head. “No ordinary unicorn magician could do this. Who made you?”

He turned away from the projection and began to pace back and forth as he spoke.

“Whoever created this is an extremely high-level student of the arcane… but why would they? The way this is designed to be used, by attunement and key words, is so roundabout and elaborate. A wizard with this kind of skill could use much more direct means to do whatever they want. So somepony made this and… sold it, or gave it to somebody else?” He paused, turned, cast another spell, and cursed at the blank result. “Their use of the Weave leaves no trace of their own magical signature. Decay in the lattice is minimal, and there’s no telling when it was made, or where…” He cursed under his breath. “Whoever made this worked hard to cover their tracks.”

“Star Swirl.”

Star Swirl jumped in his skin, and snapped around to see Cold Wing standing silently behind him, only his impassive muzzle visible beneath his hood. “I sealed the lab,” Star Swirl said.

“You sealed it against magic,” Cold Wing replied. “The lock, however, was easily swayed.”

“What?” He glanced to the door, which had been politely closed and bore no visible marks of tampering. “How did you—look, I’m working, what do you want?”

“As per Her Highness’s wishes I am keeping you appraised of the situation,” the Shadowbolt said calmly. “We received a message from the head of the botanical gardens. She did an inventory of her potent herbs after the assassination attempt. It seems she found that a deadly quantity of Merrymaker was missing from her stores.”

Star Swirl blinked. “The head gardener? You mean Lily?”

“I am going to take her testimony now.” Cold Wing said. “You may attend, if you think it is necessary.”

Star Swirl turned back to the coin, and thought. “I should check if there’s any sign of similar magics tampering with her case. I’ll come with you.”

He turned back to see the Shadowbolt had already vanished. He turned his head to look around, and saw nothing.

He thought of Lily, and imagined her being questioned by the Shadowbolt. “Oh no…”

He set off at a gallop through the palace to reach the gardens.

– – –

When Star Swirl reached the gardener he and Cold Wing found her in a state of high jitters, nervously nursing a mug of hot tea inside her cottage.

She let them in, and Star Swirl took a look around the cottage, and swept it for signs of magic while the other two spoke.

“Let’s start with something simple,” Cold Wing said. “Have you seen any suspicious ponies near your cottage?”

“There are visitors in the gardens every day, of course,” Lily said. “But they’re always well-behaved. The visitors always set a good example for the plants! I’ve never had any violence in my gardens!”

Cold Wing nodded. He was not writing notes. Star Swirl suspected he perfectly remembered every word that was said to him. “Are you always in the garden?”

“Yes, every day except market days. And every afternoon, unless I’m invited someplace.” She glanced away to the side. “Which isn’t often.”

“And you’re here every night?”

“Yes… I live alone. Nopony visits my cabin at night.”

“I know,” Cold Wing said. “When did the poison disappear?”

“I don’t know. It’s not often I need it. I hadn’t looked for it in a week.”

“Do you know of anypony who might have stolen it?”

“No.”

“Do you know of anypony who had the opportunity to steal it?”

“No.”

“Do you know anypony who knew it was there?”

She thought, and shook her head. “Anypony who knows about botany could know about Merrymaker.”

“Has anypony been inside your cabin?”

“Nopony I know of. I—” She cut herself off.

Cold Wing noticed, and somehow grew more intense. “Go on.”

“I—I woke up one morning the other week, and I didn’t find my keys where I normally put them. I thought it was just an accident, I’d done a lot of reading the night before.”

Lily’s alchemy lab was tucked away in the back of her cottage. Star Swirl glanced over it. She had said it was only a small lab, and that was true as far as the equipment went: she had a basic inventory of tools and devices, old but well-made and carefully maintained, of brass and glass that bore signs of regular and meticulous scrubbing. But while the laboratory setup was simple her collection of ingredients was not. A large cabinet with rows upon rows of shelves took up most of the cottage’s back wall, stretching into the corners and climbing up towards the ceiling. Some shelves were open, filled with little clay pots or wicker baskets full of dried or powdered herbs. Some had little drawers in them, many of them mismatched, as if the construction had been added to over the years. Some of the drawers had locks and keyholes, and some sections of shelf were closed entirely behind locked cabinet doors.

It was clearly well-stocked and well-cared for, but its organization was… ‘enthusiastic’ was the word that came to Star Swirl’s mind. The individual shelves were marked with their contents, sometimes many in one, some labels with many notes added in pencil. Some things clearly moved around with use, while some were kept in pristine condition and seemingly never touched.

The result seemed like chaos to Star Swirl, and he did not doubt that Lily knew exactly where everything was. He also had no problem believing that a rarely-used substance could disappear without notice.

The cottage showed no signs he could see that it had been tampered with, magically or otherwise. The racks of potent herbs was locked, and showed no signs of violence. The herbs themselves had only their normal, natural magic residue.

He looked over it all in deep thought, ignoring the rest as he wondered what he was looking for. When he next noticed the words from across the room the questioning had taken a turn.

“Plants are wonderful companions, though. You might find you understand them. Have you ever thought about keeping one? I could help you find one, I have plenty to spare!”

“That is – very kind of you to offer. But I do not think it would suit my lifestyle. I do not do sunlight.”

“Plants do need sunlight to grow. But they need darkness too, and rain. There are some plants that grow best in the shade. I could some up for you if you’re interested?”

“There are? Pardon my ignorance, but plants are known for their love of sunlight more than all else.”

“Oh, ponies are wrong about a lot of things,” Lily said softly.

“That is true,” Cold Wing said. “Nonetheless, I do not think it would be fitting.”

“That’s a shame. Well, please let me know if you ever change your mind?”

“Very well. Star Swirl, if you are finished.”

They stepped outside the cottage and walked away into the garden, leaving the cottage behind them. “If someone stole from her they would have to break into her cottage while she slept,” Cold Wing said.

“Here, in the middle of the palace?” Star Swirl asked. “Could anypony do that?”

“It seems unlikely,” Cold Wing said. “But I will look into it. Did you find anything?”

Star Swirl shook his head. “I didn’t see anything unusual. No signs of anything magical, or anything suspicious that I could see. The cabinet was locked normally. It would have to have been a subtle thief.”

“Hm."

The single syllable seemed heavy and ominous. Star Swirl hesitated. “You don’t have any suspicions about the gardener, do you?”

Cold Wing made no expression. “Her records are very clean.”

“But?”

“The poison in the vial was fresh Merrymaker,” the pegasus said. “It couldn’t have been produced abroad and transported here without decaying. The raw materials likewise could not have been brought within our walls without tripping our security. Which means the materials were collected and the poison crafted within Everhold.”

Star Swirl thought about this, and felt himself growing uneasy. “The enemy is hiding inside the palace. They didn’t just sneak in to make the attack. They have someone on the inside, is that what you’re saying?”

“That is what I am saying.” Cold Wing took a step forward and spread his wings. “I must confer with my agents. If anypony came to the garden at night my Shadowbolts saw it. I will be back shortly.”

With a kick and a blast of chill wind he was off, over the rooftop and out of sight.

Star Swirl heard Lily clear her throat behind him. “I’m sorry about this.”

He turned, and met her eyes, and he wondered. He shook his head. “It’s not your fault. But we have to investigate every lead.”

Lily nodded. “Of course. I’m happy to be of assistance.”

Star Swirl nodded. “This poison,” he said. “What’s so special about it?”

“It’s the essence of all the deadly impulses in the plant kingdom,” Lily said with the voice of an enthusiastic scholar. “It’s what you get when you combine all the poisonous components of the deadliest specimens into one. It’s extremely hard to make, it takes great care. The plants don’t like being mishandled, you know. Cooperation doesn’t come naturally to them. And once you have it it doesn’t last long before it decays.”

“It sounds awful. Why do you even have it?”

She thought about it. “Don’t you ever want to just… understand something?”

Star Swirl had no answer to that.

Lily did not notice. She continued. “Sometimes I wonder if understanding all the worst impulses of plants can help me reform them and make them friendlier,” she said. “If plants learned to work together with each other, instead of against each other? They could accomplish anything.” She looked at the wizard with a soft smile. “Sometimes, in order to get the best out of someone, you have to understand them at their worst.”

Star Swirl sighed. “I guess there’s a lot of opportunities then.”

“It seems that way,” Lily concurred. “You’ve heard the rumors.”

Star Swirl perked an ear. “Rumors?”

“You must have heard, an important pony like you,” Lily said guilelessly. She glanced left and right, and bent forward. “Some ponies are very unhappy.”

“That’s easy to understand,” Star Swirl said.

“No, I mean – some ponies are very unhappy. With the peace talks. With the ambassador. With the Princesses.”

“…Go on.”

“I’ve heard whispers,” Lily continued in a hushed tone. “Accusations from ponies about who’s behind it. Some ponies blame the Ambassador herself, say this is some underhoofed scheme to win concessions. Some ponies are even upset the diamond dog didn’t kill her. A lot of ponies here don’t trust each other, and some are whispering wicked things about their neighbors. Talking about who they think might have done it… Or wish might have done it, it seems sometimes.”

Star Swirl grimaced. “I wouldn’t listen to a word of it if I were you.”

Lily looked unsure. “Look, just… Just be careful, alright? Ponies are very unhappy, and scared, and when ponies with power get scared and unhappy bad things can happen. Alright?”

Star Swirl nodded. “Ponies,” he muttered spitefully. “Sometimes I wish they’d just learn to sit still and mind their own business.”

“Like the grass,” Lily said with a soft smile. “At least you always know where it stands.”

With a sudden gust of wind, Cold Wing dropped to the ground, landing with the barest softest fump. “It is done. Let’s move along.”

Star Swirl nodded, and nodded again to Lily in farewell. She smiled softly and bowed her head before walking back to her cottage.

The two stallions turned to leave the garden when the Shadowbolt suddenly halted, and let out a grunt of disdain. Before Star Swirl could say anything he heard the sound of hooves on the stone floor before the door to the palace interior swung open, and three of the Palace Guard emerged, giving their customary impassive watching glances to the unicorn.

The guards were not alone. Following behind the last of them was a giant figure who had to bend down to fit through the low doorway.

Star Swirl looked at him curiously. “Oaken?”

“Ah. Star Swirl,” the minotaur said as he stood up straight, looking down at them. “I see we are here on like purpose.”

“How’s that?” Star Swirl asked.

“He is here for Lady Gale,” Cold Wing said gravely.

“And the Princess,” Oaken replied.

“Not mine,” Cold Wing said.

Oaken’s bovine lips curled up in a broad smile beneath sharp, keen eyes. “No, indeed not… You must be one of the Shadowbolts. Knossox knows about the wings in the shadows.”

“They should,” Cold Wing said. “But they know little.”

“A wise bull can get far with little,” Oaken replied.

“What’s going on here?” Star Swirl asked.

Cold Wing grunted. “The Day Princess’s activities are not under my jurisdiction. But I am aware of things,” he said. “Lady Gale has demanded to observe the investigation, and Princess Celestia agreed.”

“As a third party it seemed natural for me to take the role,” Oaken said with casual warmth in his booming voice.

“A third party?” Star Swirl raised an eyebrow. “You work for Lady Gale. And doesn’t that just raise more questions about your loyalties?”

“Oh yes. Many very interesting questions. The sages can discuss them for decades.” He looked down with a bovine smile that might have been a shared joke, or just a joke. “But at least I’m honest about it, and that is my promise: that any problems you have with me will be obvious, and not subtle.” He looked out across the gardens to the nearby cottage. “Though I see mine is not the only party following leads. I gather Their Highnesses are devoting their attentions in different directions?”

“Do not say anything, wizard,” Cold Wing said.

Oaken chuckled, and it rumbled deep in his belly. “I understand. Secrecy comes naturally to you,” the minotaur said. “But I am here for diplomacy’s sake. I hope you can see that.”

Cold Wing grunted. “I will move heaven and earth myself to uncover the enemy. Then diplomacy can run its course.”

Without saying another word the pegasus spread his wings and kicked off, and flew over the rooftops and out of sight.

The leader of the guards ignored Star Swirl and looked to Lily. “Head gardener, we wish to ask you some questions.”

“Oh. Of course,” she said quietly. “Come inside.”

Star Swirl glanced back to see the minotaur bend down to stick his head into her cottage. Then he stepped inside the door to the many passageways of the palace, thoughts swirling in his head as he went.

Rumors.

As Star Swirl trotted he became more aware of the other ponies he passed. There were ponies talking in twos and threes.

It was always thus in the palace, but the talk was more quiet now, wary of being overheard, and they fell silent as he drew near and watched him suspiciously as he passed. The conversation did not start again until he was some distance ahead of them.

He cast a spell and turned his ears to meet the altered flow of air.

“—you see Princess Luna? She was furious.”

“I saw. I pity anypony who falls into her grasp. She’s terrifying.”

“They say she has one hoof in the world of monsters.”

“One hoof at least. She is the Princess of the Night.”

His teeth clenched together and he marched faster.

While I was up in my lab everypony else whispered about what happened.

Lily was right. Word can run from one end of this palace to the other faster than a pony can gallop. A pony who knows where to listen in can hear anything.

And I’m up in my lab studying the stars. Nopony talks to me.

Is this part of my job? Am I failing in my duties to the Princess, letting these things happen while I look for the deepest secrets of magic and nature?

A lone pony passed him looking nervous, and raced to get away right after. Star Swirl glared after him, then caught himself doing so and shook his head in annoyance.

All the most influential ponies in all of ponydom come here, all under one roof. Useful, I suppose, if you want to do great things like the peace talks.

And useful if you want to see it break.

He thought of Cold Wing, and the Shadowbolts, and Hurricane and her soldiers, and all the gold-clad ponies of the Royal Guard watching seemingly every door. As he watched a patrol of two relieved two others at the end of the hall, who moved on.

Princess Celestia increased the security. How could anypony get so close to destroying everything under all these eyes?

He blinked and turned his head as a ray of sharp sunlight reflected in his eyes for just a moment before it passed.

I wonder if that pony in the silver armor is with them.

He turned to take another look at the pony, but he was already gone.

But every pony here is another possible vulnerability.

How does this place even function? All these ponies vying against each other, each straining to shape the court to their own liking, pulling a thousand different ways.

How are we supposed to find a secret in a place where every pony has a closet full of them?

How can the Princess stand it?

Star Swirl turned a corner to an empty passage along the south wall, and slumped against the wall. He turned his eyes skyward for guidance, but rather than a sky he saw only cold stone. The image rose in his mind of the diamond dog locked in the dungeons.

“Hi!” a bright and strong voice said from behind him, making him jump.

“Gah!” He skidded on the stone floor and stood in a wide defensive stance, his horn pointed forward, but saw nothing in the hall. Nothing but the portrait hanging on the wall above where he had stood, its cut-out eyes looking down at him.

He blinked. “Gladys?”

“You remembered!” the griffon said excitedly.

“How did you get out of the dungeons?”

“I have my tricks. Don’t!” Gladys protested as Star Swirl took hold of the portrait in his magic. “I just want to talk! I can help you!”

Star Swirl released the portrait. He stared up at the cut-out eyes in the face of Lady Windermare. “What do you know about the assassin?”

“I know her name is Laika. You remembered my name, you can remember hers too.”

Star Swirl’s teeth ground together. “What do you know about Laika?”

“She’s afraid,” Gladys said. “Not for herself. For her pups.”

“Why? What about them?”

“What do you think?” Gladys asked sharply. “Do you think she tried to kill a Griffon Duchess for fun? Because I know fun and that’s a very funny way of having fun. They’d do all kinds of fun things to her in Griffonstone for that.”

Star Swirl drew a breath. “She’s being threatened.”

“The way she sees it, she’s lost everything already. But so long as she doesn’t say anything to you she might still get to see them again. But that’s not what I came to talk to you about. You need help getting along with other ponies, mister Star Swirl. And I’m here to help you!”

“You’re good at getting along with others, are you?”

“Oh yeah! There’s nobirdy better! And you really need it, because in case you haven’t noticed you’re surrounded by others. This place is full of them!”

Star Swirl shook his head in disdain. Gladys continued speaking.

“I was just thinking to myself, how does this place even work? All these ponies vying against each other, each straining to shape this court to their own liking, pulling a thousand different ways? And how are you supposed to find a secret in a place where every pony has a closet full of them?”

Star Swirl suddenly felt the fur on his back stand on end. “Go on.”

“Some of these ponies want to help you, Star Swirl buddy. And some… don’t. I really wanna see you figure out which is which. Okay?”

“And why should I listen to a griffon spy?”

“I’m not a spy!” The eyes glared down at him. “I’m a fool. You know what a fool does?”

“Foolishness?”

“A fool opens minds! A fool uses comedy to make you think, and care. And you ponies need that. I’m sick of the war, I’m sick of creatures dying and seeing their homes torn down and occupied by soldiers, I’m sick of seeing old birds and kittens sick and freezing and hungry because you all won’t stop fighting. I decided to try to stop it. I came here to make you laugh, and talk some sense into you along the way. I walked up to the front doors and asked if I could come in and talk to the Princesses, all smiles. And they put me in the dungeons. But you know what, that’s fine. Because I can still be a fool in the dungeons.”

“You want me to believe that you came here to tell the Royal Sisters jokes?”

“I don’t care what you believe, buddy. I only care about what you do.” Gladys grumbled. “Oh shoot, I really need to get back to my cell, they’re gonna check on me soon. Talk to you later!”

The eyes ducked away, the cut-out eyes of Lady Windermare returned to their usual place as Star Swirl heard the sound of something running off behind the stone wall.

Star Swirl grabbed the portrait and pulled it off the wall. There was nothing behind it but solid stone, and the back of the painting was nothing but cloth canvas, unscarred and unaltered.

He returned the painting to the wall with a frown, and walked away.

Star Swirl wandered into the Clamor Hall.

The Clamor was one of the largest of the grand halls of Everhold, the third in the rising row that led from the front gates at the bottom of the palace to the throne hall itself in the center. More officially called the Speakers’ Hall, the Clamor was the highest hall that was normally open to the public, where announcements of policy were made and where debates were often held: the walls were lined with four elevated platforms for speakers to address an audience, two to either side, and was a common place for crowds to gather to discuss the news of the day, and hear what others had to say.

So it was then, as scores of ponies mingled to talk about the recent events. At a glance it seemed like this was one of the few places where life was unfolding as normal. But...

“—and stoneworks for the Sleeping Giant Mountain have been withdrawn,” the announcer concluded.

“Chisel Edge and Cloven Granite had a huge row,” Star Swirl heard a pegasus mare whisper to a unicorn stallion as he passed by behind them.

He overheard whispers as he walked: scheduled talks that were supposed to be about other things entirely had been overtaken by events, hurriedly rewritten or withdrawn, and all of them were now about the attack. Partnerships that were previously solid had fallen apart as the parties found themselves on opposing sides of an entirely new question. Things previously settled were now again in doubt.

“—of the procession of the Triumph, which has been called into question as the parliamentary schedule is disrupted,” the announcer continued. “Here to speak is Margrave Baron Whiteblood XIV.”

Star Swirl’s ears perked up and his steps halted as he heard a familiar voice begin to speak behind him. “Peers of the realm, honored and noble ponies of Everhold…” He turned to look back and saw that Blue Horn had stepped out onto one of the speakers’ platforms with an open scroll held in his magic.

Behind him stood a group of severe-looking ponies listening and watching, the kind of ponies Star Swirl had vaguely learned to recognize – from their garments, their grooming, their jewelry – as the elders of the most respected noble familiar. The kind of ponies who did not normally stand together in a group.

“I was asked today to speak in celebration of a pony who exemplifies the virtues of our armed forces. Who has demonstrated strength, courage, and resolve in the most trying of circumstances. Whose commitment to duty and unshakable will has won her the unfailing loyalty of those who serve under her, and won us the decisive victory that brought the war closer to an ending than ever before. And yet as we all know these are difficult times to celebrate.”

Blue Horn stood very straight, rigid almost, and spoke evenly and clearly, without emotion.. “Nopony can deny that Captain Hurricane deserves more honors than we can give her for her heroism, for going above and beyond the call of duty in service to her country, and showing us all what excellence the REAF strives for in every action. We also cannot deny that every word and gesture we make today is shaded by the brutality and malice we so recently witnessed.”

He nodded to the ponies standing behind him, who likewise maintained impassive faces. “My peers and I have discussed among ourselves that it feels strange to praise a soldier in the shadow of the peace talks, and of the savagery that unfolded last night. We have seen uncertainty and fear shake us, and we have discussed at length how we should respond. And we have decided to look to Captain Hurricane for our example.

“We have heard ponies say we do not yet know who is responsible for this attack. We have heard ponies say now is the time to distrust and panic. We say the opposite. We say that now is a time for clarity of vision and purpose. This callow and cowardly attack will not inspire doubt or suspicion.

“And so we say that these peace talks cannot continue under these circumstances and must immediately cease. We call for the Griffon King to immediately answer for this attack, and for his emissary to be expelled from Everhold forthwith. We call upon the Princesses to mobilize Everhold’s armies from waiting in reserve to the front lines, and to open new advances unless those responsible claim responsibility for the attack and answer for it immediately.”

There was a chorus of boos. “Will somepony shut this lunatic up?” A mare shouted from the crowd. Another shouted back, “He has a right to speak!”

Blue Horn turned to the next sheet of paper, ignoring the reactions he was getting, and continued.

“We believe this attack is an affront to ponykind, an attempt to undermine the cause of peace and to put Everhold on the back-hoof, and we reject it utterly. The peace talks cannot continue until the culprit has been brought out into the light, and all those responsible have been found and cast down.

“We do not say this lightly. The war has been long and costly, and nopony understands this better than me.” Blue Horn ran his eyes across the room, and they saw a hint of pain in his face. “My predecessor, my father, was killed by enemies of ponykind because he saw clearly the danger they posed. His voice has been missing from these peace talks. We all wanted to believe that we could reach our adversaries, and make them see reason. But we are not blind. The Princesses extended a hoof of friendship and peace, and it was rebuffed. It is time to set a new course. And we peers offer our help to the Royal Sisters, and stand ready to serve our country by leading the charge.

“What this attack has shown is that our enemies know they can’t defeat us honorably, so instead they strike us from the shadows, seek to deceive and undermine us, to split our efforts and our strength. We must not allow this. We must reject moves of war that masquerade as diplomacy. We believe that ponies, united, are stronger than any foe. We believe that it is always a mistake to doubt, or to hesitate, or to do anything but give our all and do everything we can. And if it comes to that we will continue the struggle until we reach Griffonstone itself.”

Blue Horn ended there, and immediately the hall erupted in shouts, cries of support and cries of “shame, shame” alike. Loud arguments broke out, and before Star Swirl’s eyes the hall realigned itself solely around whether ponies were for or against what they had just heard, growing more heated by the moment.

Blue Horn stood comfortably at the center, seeming undisturbed by the rising passions around him.

Star Swirl moved to turn away, but froze when another pony caught his eye: Hurricane stood by the far wall, her intense eyes thoughtful as she gazed at Blue Horn, her mouth curling up into a smile. Blue Horn noticed as well, and he raised an eyebrow to her before nodding.

The sight of it gave Star Swirl chills, and when Hurricane, seeming to notice him, shifted her eyes to look at him he quickly averted his gaze.

As Star Swirl watched it seemed to him he felt something shifting in the back of his mind, a hint of recognition. A memory stirring to wakefulness, drawn by hunger.

The Queen of the Golden Sands knew the taste of bloodlust. And Star Swirl could feel it all around him.

– – –

He hurried away from the Speakers’ Hall, rushing through the passages and up the stairs to his lab, and it was when he passed the royal guards stationed by his door that he heard the voice of Cold Wing once again saying his name.

The guards tried not to react to the sight of the wizard tensing up like he had touched an electrified wire.

“Inside,” Star Swirl grumbled, and closed the door behind them. “Well, this has been quite a day.”

“More than you know,” Cold Wing said. “I have heard from our Princess.”

Though his voice, on the surface, seemed emotionless as always, something in his tone made Star Swirl extra wary. “What is it?”

Cold Wing shifted his wings. “There was a meeting.”

“The assassin is in custody,” Celestia said. “We will proceed with the talks as planned.”

“Are you mad?” Luna asked. “That dog did not get in here by herself. Her accomplices are still lurking and we don’t know what else they may do!”

“What they want is to prevent us from making peace,” Celestia said. “I will not allow them to succeed.”

“And yet you are helping them to do so! We must secure Everhold before we can continue. Resuming talks now will only give them more chances to attack!”

“I have considered all of this, Lulu. But the longer we wait the more unstable the situation becomes. I have spoken to Lady Gale and she agrees. I will announce the resumption of talks to the court immediately.”

“You have spoken to—” Luna cut herself off, glowering. “So be it. Know that I will have my agents continue their investigation unimpeded.”

“Of course. Let them do as they please.”

Luna stalked off towards the door, paused as she gripped the handle, and glanced back at Celestia, her eyes narrowing. “You are making a mistake, sister,” she said in a low voice. “This tragedy is not over yet. A grim wind is blowing. I can feel it in my feathers.”

“You always had a flair for the dramatic,” Celestia said. “Let your ponies go about their business, Lulu. We will show the world the strength of our dominion. This coward hiding in the shadows won’t stop the peace.”

“If the culprit means to strike again they will act quickly,” Cold Wing said. “We must find them first.”

“We’re running out of time,” Star Swirl muttered. “Alright, so what do we know? Some creature is trying to sabotage the peace talks. Who would want to do that?”

“Many,” Cold Wing said. “Perhaps Griffon King Blaze has not given up on retaking the lands the Empire ruled two hundred years ago, but needs to claim a just cause.”

“And kill his own ambassador?”

“There is little love lost between the Griffon King and his nobles,” Cold Wing said. “Or the reverse: perhaps his underlings want to weaken him and push him off the throne. Perhaps some other power entirely wants to see ponies and griffons kill each other, like Dragons, or Minotaurs...”

“Or gorgons,” Star Swirl muttered.

“Or perhaps someone closer to home. Perhaps one of the Princesses wants to plant the flag of Everhold in the heart of Griffonstone itself.”

Star Swirl grimaced. “That's absurd.”

“Or,” Cold Wing continued in his flat, unreadable voice, “perhaps somepony in Everhold wants the Princesses to fail.”

Neither of them spoke for a few seconds, the idea hanging in the air. “A plot against the Princesses?”

“It would not be the first time,” Cold Wing said.

“Who would do that?” Star Swirl muttered. “What kind of traitor would that be?”

Even as he said it, an image came to Star Swirl's mind of a certain pegasus soldier, and a certain unicorn noble, and he twitched.

“I sense you are beginning to understand the workings of the Court.” Cold Wing turned away. “Return to the artifacts, wizard. See what you can learn, and tell her Highness. I will find out what happened here. Find out, and...”

“Bring it out into the light?” Star Swirl suggested.

“Light,” Cold Wing growled. “Light is shallow. Light shows only surfaces and illusions. In the dark, everything is what it is. Nothing more, nothing else.” He flexed his bladed wings. “I will bring it out into the dark.”

Author's Note

Any resemblance to current events is entirely coincidental. This chapter was written over several months, and the broad themes of the story were planned way back in 2013.

The world is just like that, unfortunately.

Prologue: Remembered.

"You wanted to see me, Princess Celestia?" Twilight Sparkle asked, with a broad smile. She had been summoned to Canterlot for, the letter said, 'a chat', which according to Twilight Sparkle's experience meant that she did not need to worry about having to save all of Equestria from impending doom on this particular occasion.

Celestia smiled at the enthusiasm of her faithful student. "Hello, Twilight, so good to see you." The Princess rose from the Sun Throne in the great hall of Canterlot Castle and stretched her legs and wings. "How are things in Ponyville?"

"Everything's fine, Princess. The Apples are working on harvesting this year's crop, Rarity's boutique is getting lots of customers..." She ran down the list of everypony in Ponyville, listing their occupations and saying that they were doing fine.

"Perhaps you're wondering why I asked you to come here?" the Princess asked when her student was finished.

"Well... maybe a little."

Celestia nodded. "Come, walk with me."

Twilight fell in line beside her mentor and looked up at the giant Alicorn with the usual level of awe in her eyes that none but the Princess ever saw.

"You know the stained glass windows of Canterlot Castle," Celestia said.

Twilight nodded. "Of course, Princess. All the greatest moments in Equestria's history are depicted on them."

"Tell me, Twilight Sparkle," Princess Celestia said as they walked down the great throne hall, "Have you ever wondered why, of all the pivotal events that are commemorated in these windows, Star Swirl the Bearded is nowhere to be seen in them?"

Twilight Sparkle looked up at the beautiful images and considered the question. The hall was long, and the windows were many. Celestia Herself commissioned them when she thought it proper; when a terrible evil was defeated, when some deed upheld and strengthened the peace and unity of Ponydom. Twilight herself was there on one window, along with her friends; her brother Shining Armor and Princess Cadance on another; even her library assistant and honorary baby brother Spike was immortalized on one. And there were others beyond counting, commemorating past victories from before Twilight's time, events recent and distant, and some so ancient it seemed none but Celestia herself remembered their true meaning. But Star Swirl the Bearded was indeed nowhere on any of them to be seen.

Now that this was pointed out to her, Twilight was puzzled. It couldn't be that he was not important enough, that no great deed in his life was worthy of the honor. He was one of the greatest wizards ever to live, after all, even though nowadays it seemed like nopony but Twilight herself, and the royal sisters who had known him in life, remembered that he had ever existed.

"I guess it never really occurred to me, Princess," Twilight answered. "There are already so many of them, I never thought about what hadn't been included."

"Ah," Princess Celestia said, "but sometimes the choice of what we forget is as important as the choice of what we remember."

Twilight nodded, uncertain what her mentor was thinking. Twilight remembered Star Swirl's exploits very well, at least as much of them as were recorded in history. When she was just a filly Twilight had been given the biography of him written by his pupil Clover the Clever, and had devoured it, going back to it again and again. But none of those stories were memorialized in glass. "So why isn't he on any of them?" she asked.

"It's a difficult question to answer," Princess Celestia said. She halted under one window in particular, one that had always stood out for its humility in the splendor of the throne hall: the Broken Hall. No pony, and no other figure was depicted in this ancient and mysterious image. It showed only a chamber of stone, its walls broken and fallen, and beyond the walls a black night sky. "Perhaps I can explain it like this... Star Swirl did many great things in his life. But the greatest thing of all, was not one of his triumphs. The greatest of all his achievements... was his greatest failure."

Chapter 1: Llamrei's Seat (How Star Swirl Met A Princess)

No pony is an island,

Entire of itself.

Each is a piece of the continent,

A part of the main.

If a clod be washed away by the sea,

Equestria is the less.

As well as if a promontory were.

As well as if a manor of thine own

Or of thine friend's were.

Each pony's death diminishes me,

For I am involved in ponykind.

Therefore, send not to know

For whom the bell tolls,

It tolls for thee.

--John Dun

Scoltland. The pre-classical era.

A unicorn colt sat alone on a rock in the hills outside of Edinspur, randomly kicking pebbles as he watched the moon rise in the darkening evening sky. Down in the village his parents would be wondering where he was, but he didn't care. He'd been in a fight, had been beaten up, had limped off thinking angry and hurtful thoughts. Again. And, like every time this happened, he had run off to someplace high up and alone, where he thought to himself that he was too good for this one-cart town, that someday he would be somepony special, respected, admired, even feared.

Those sorts of thoughts were milling around in his head as he rubbed the scrape on his side, his face locked in a scowl, filled with anger he couldn't express. Until he heard a voice behind him.

"Do you mind if we join you?"

He turned with a jolt. He hadn't heard anything walk up behind him, hadn't seen anypony approaching on the path down below. "Who's there?" he asked, before his jaw fell open at the sight of the pony behind him: an Alicorn, taller than the tallest stallion in the village, with a dark blue coat of fur and a mane that glittered with the light of a thousand stars. A Princess of the Realm, standing right in front of him, speaking to him.

The unicorn was not the most refined or sophisticated of colts, but he was no fool. Under the gaze of the Princess, he immediately fell down in a bow, and waited silently.

Princess Luna stood still and looked at him for a short while before he realized she was waiting for him to respond. "Oh... Yes your majesty, I mean, no, I don't mind," he managed to say in a thin, frightened voice.

Luna turned her head to the side, and said, "Leave us," and from the shadows behind her four pegasi in black armor – the boy had not seen them a moment before - flew up into the skies and vanished out of sight, without making the slightest sound. Then Luna stepped up beside him. "You may rise, there is no need to stand on ceremony."

The boy got up. "Yes, your majesty."

"Please, call me Princess Luna," she said, looking down towards the village. "Is that where you live?"

"Yes, Princess Luna."

"The gaslights in the streets look rather like stars, don't you think? So quiet and still, no movement... Like a beautiful painting. But we would rather it moved." She turned an eye on the boy. "What's your name?"

"Um. Star Swirl."

"Well..." Luna stuck out a silver-slippered hoof. "It's nice to meet you, Star Swirl."

The boy put out his own, tiny-by-comparison hoof, and shook hers. He nodded uncertainly.

Luna had spent some time thinking about this moment. Luna was a Princess of Everhold, ruler of the night, one of the two most powerful, most revered creatures in all of ponydom. Kings and emperors had bowed to receive her blessing. She had faced down dragons in their own lairs. She could stand before a crowd of thousands and not be intimidated, weigh matters of life and death in a court of justice without hesitation or uncertainty. None of which, it suddenly became plain to her, was the slightest bit helpful when it came to being friendly to a colt and putting him at ease.

An awkward silence ensued as the two of them stood there, unable to think of anything to say.

"The weather," Luna said, "is pleasant this evening, is it not?"

"Err... Yes, Princess Luna."

They were quiet again.

Luna could feel a drop of sweat begin to form above her left eye. Star Swirl was beginning to fidget nervously. "This never happens to my sister," Luna muttered under her breath, "how does she do this so easily?"

"What?" Star Swirl asked.

"Nothing," Luna said. "So, um. Do you... Would you like to..." He looked at her nervously. "Nothing. Never mind."

Both of them could see the awkward silence potentially stretching out into infinity before them.

Luna looked around, desperately searching for something worth pointing out. A thought occurred to her. "This place looks familiar... That mountain peak on the horizon, and that bay there... We have been on this hill before, a long time ago. Your village wasn't there back then."

"This is Llamrei's Seat," Star Swirl said.

"Yes, that's right!" Luna said. "I remember her! She was a grand mare, queen of the earth ponies."

Star Swirl blinked. "Llamrei was a real pony?"

"Certainly she was. She fought for Canterlot's independence from the lords of Saxpony and refused to accede to the Manegeld."

"So does that mean that the stories about Marelin and Sir Prancealot and Morgan le Neigh are all-"

"Somewhat exaggerated," Luna said, "but broadly true, yes. You know those stories?"

"My granny used to tell them to me before bedtime," Star Swirl said with wide eyes. "My favorite was the one about Marelin and the dragons under the mountain. Did that really happen?"

In answer, Luna simply knocked her hoof on the stone, twice. A few moments later, Star Swirl felt the ground beneath him shudder, and heard a deep, dull thudding through the stone. His jaw dropped. "That's... that's... no way! You're joking!"

"We give thee our word, we jest not," Luna said with a wry smirk. "Though it helps that they can hear me from afar, they are not directly below us."

"That's amazing..." Star Swirl said, looking up at the princess with awe. "Tell me more! Who else was there?"

"Well..." Luna said playfully, "who's your favorite pony from the stories?"

"Oh..." Star Swirl paused, and frowned.

"What's wrong?" Luna asked.

"Nothing, it's just... my favorite was actually always Morgan le Neigh. But if she was real... she was evil, wasn't she?"

"Hmm..." Luna looked up thoughtfully. "That was a long time ago. Things were very different back then. Things were changing, and Morgan... didn't like the changes. So she fought back. Change can be very frightening, and when ponies are frightened they do foolish things. So yes, she did things she shouldn't have. But that was not so clear at the time, and the stories were written a long time afterwards, by ponies who did not remember Morgan for what she had done right."

Star Swirl listened intently.

"Why was she your favorite?" Luna asked.

"I guess it's because of the magic," Star Swirl said. "There's Marelin, too, I suppose, but even though she had all that power and knew the future she never, you know, really did anything much. Morgan would come up with great plans, and act them out, and the Steeds of the Round Stable would fight her and they'd win, but she was more... fun, I guess, than them. Does that make sense? Even though she was bad, and she lost, she was still more... I don't know..."

"Compelling?" Luna asked.

"Maybe," Star Swirl mumbled. "I mean, compare her to someone like Galahoof, who was the greatest pony in all the land but was just so... flat and boring, you know."

Luna made no reply, but only watched the boy in his contemplations.

"What are you doing here in Scoltland anyway?" Star Swirl asked, and quickly added "Princess Luna."

"My duties cover all of ponydom. I just happened to be passing by, when I saw you. You looked so lonely, sitting there by yourself... And I thought perhaps you'd like somepony to talk to." She turned her head and looked at the boy. "What about you? What are you doing up here?"

The boy looked down sheepishly, picking at the ground with a hoof. His anger, completely forgotten at the sight of the Princess, crawled back into his thoughts. "I was just in a fight with some other colts. They pick on me because I'm the only unicorn in the whole town. All the earth ponies are bigger and stronger than me."

"And you came up here, so far out of your village?"

"Not far enough," the boy muttered. "When I get angry, I just want to get away. Nopony else comes up here, at least not at night."

"Are you not afraid of the dark?"

Star Swirl thought for a few seconds. "No. Not really. What's to be scared of? There's wild animals out in the woods, I guess, but they're there in the day as well. Good things don't go away with the sun. And some neat things only show up in the dark."

"Do you think so?" Luna was intrigued. "What manner of things then?"

"Like you," Star Swirl said, and Luna turned away to hide a faint blush.

"There are a great many more things than us that only come out at night," Luna said, and looked up at the starlit sky. "The other colts bully you?"

Star Swirl nodded.

"But you can do magic, can you not? Does that not hold them off?"

"I can't really..." Star Swirl muttered, not looking up. "There's nopony to show me. My mom and dad are earth ponies. They don't even remember the last time there was a unicorn in the family, it was before their grandparents were born. They don't let me do any magic in the house... or outside... or at school. They're embarrassed, I think."

She sat down beside him. "You will learn," she said.

The boy glanced down at his village. "I don't understand anypony here. They all talk about harvesting hay and making it through the next winter and building a house to live in next door to their parents as if it were the greatest thing in the world. None of them can see past their own muzzles. I want to go see the world, do great things, and be somepony."

"You don't have any friends?"

The boy turned his face away and didn't answer.

"No?"

"...I'm used to being alone," Star Swirl said.

Luna's head dropped. She sighed. "As am I," she admitted after a long silence. "I know how it feels."

Star Swirl looked up at her with wide eyes. "But you're a princess," he said. "You must have ponies wanting to talk to you all the time!"

Luna snorted. "Talk to me? Perhaps, when they want something from me. Then they flee as soon as they have their answer, be it yeay or neigh." Her voice grew dark as she fell into her own thoughts. "Believe me child, when you are surrounded by those who will smile to your face and curse you behind your flank, then you will know what it is to be alone..." Luna bit her tongue. Star Swirl was staring at her with shock. Well done, Luna. Try to cheer up a young colt, end up showering him in your own complaints. You earn your crown every night, you do. "I'm terribly sorry, I should not have said any of that, it was unworthy of me. Please forgive me."

"No..." Star Swirl shook his head. "That's okay... I just hope you don't feel alone now."

"No. Not alone." Just guilty.

She looked up at the night sky. The moon was high above the horizon now. The boy thought he saw a faint shimmer around her horn, then followed her sight, and both of them sat quietly for a while looking at the stars.

"I... have a confession to make, Star Swirl," Luna said nervously. The colt looked up at her, puzzled. "This actually isn't the first time I've seen you up here."

The unicorn watched her silently, unsure. "What do you mean?"

Luna bit her lip uncertainly before she began to speak. "I've flown by here many times, and I've seen you sitting here often," she said. "I started wondering why you'd be up here alone when everypony else was asleep, and I'd take a closer look. And you always seemed so lonely. It made me sad to see. Some nights I would land here and just... wait, and watch to see if you'd come. And when you did, I'd think about coming out of the shadows and saying hello, and... then I'd turn back, and leave." She nervously scratched the dirt with a hoof, and Star Swirl was shocked and confused to her the uncertainty in the Princess's voice. "So that's it. I'm sorry, I never meant for it to be such a... contrivance."

After some seconds of silence she mustered her courage to glance to the colt's face. She expected to see fear in his eyes, and confusion, and that at any moment he would turn and run in terror at the thought of the Princess of the Night stalking him like a wolf.

What she saw was him staring at her blankly.

Star Swirl was indeed frightened and confused. Not, mind you, because the Princess had been watching him from the shadows; that meant nothing to him. But to see her, a Princess of Everhold, looking so vulnerable and frail, as though she were afraid of him, of what he might think of her, was like watching the world turn inside out.

"Um," he gently put a hoof on her shoulder and tilted his head. "Are you alright, Princess Luna?"

Luna was taken back by the question. "Well, child, I... I've been watching you from the shadows like some fairytale monster. Doesn't that frighten you?"

Star Swirl furrowed his brow, and shook his head. "Maybe it would, if it were somepony frightening. And my mom would yell at me if she knew, I guess she'd be scared. But you're not scary."

Luna was stunned at his answer. Star Swirl bit his lip and his eyes widened, and quickly he continued, "I mean, you could be scary, you're a Princess, I'm sure you can scare anypony you want if you try..." He stopped at the sound of Luna laughing.

"I'm sorry," the Princess said again, wiping a tear from her face. "For laughing, that is. But don't worry, I'm glad you're not scared of me. You have no reason to be, I promise you."

They sat quietly for a while, looking at the stars, and this time the silence was not awkward.

"Star Swirl?" Luna said.

"Hm?" the colt looked up at her.

"Would you like me to teach you a little magic?" She smiled. The look of excitement on his face was answer enough. "Very well... Breathe deeply, and concentrate on your horn." Luna willed her magic to life, and extended her aura to envelop Star Swirl's horn. She felt the magic lying dormant within him, sleeping, waiting to be awoken. "Now relax..."

It was an old trick, but not one that was much remembered anymore, to invite another magic-user into your own mind. There were risks involved. Minds could be split; minds could be taken over. But Luna had control, and carried the colt's consciousness into her mind, placed him behind her eyes. "...and watch."

Star Swirl watched, though he had no words to describe what he was seeing. He saw the night sky as Luna saw it, not empty and cold but glorious and full of life. He knew the number of the stars, saw the intricate orbits they rode across the heavens. He saw the wild galloping course of comets and meteors plotted out over many decades. He saw every cloud, every wind, every drop of rain, every possible bolt of lightning waiting on her beck and call. He saw the moon, her chariot, her bond, the very manifestation of the covenant between ponykind and the Princess of the Night, and felt the connection between them as the Princess alone could feel it. A tug, a twist, a turning of her head, and the moon responded, taking the ocean waters and a myriad sensitive minds with it in a silent and slow dance that almost nopony ever saw.

"Star Swirl?" she said softly. "Can you hear me?"

He answered, and although the awestruck, open-mouthed mumble could not be identified as anything remotely like a 'yes', Luna took it for one.

"Now, can you reach out with your thoughts, and feel what I'm doing?"

He nodded soundlessly.

Luna's lips curled up in a smile. There's an idea for a night to remember, she thought. "Star Swirl... hold on to my mind, and follow my lead." And her horn glowed more strongly as she began to pull the moon along its course across the heavens, with the unicorn colt sharing the sensation in every detail.

That was when Luna began to feel that Star Swirl was stepping beyond the link she had opened for him, deeper into her mind, and taking control of her magic.

Her surprise quickly turned to terror. I lowered my defenses and permitted an outside presence entrance to my mind, she thought. How could this untrained colt possibly know how to do this? Have I fallen into a trap set by one of our enemies? Are hidden warriors waiting in ambush to capture me and carry me away, without my full powers to defend myself? Battle arts honed over centuries of training rushed to the front of her mind, prepared her to strike back against any attacker, this colt first of all. There it came – a movement at the edge of her vision! She whipped round and instantly adopted a battle stance to be ready to strike-

It was no attacker that had moved. It was a star.

Luna's fears poured away in a second, as shock at what she was seeing turned to entrancement. In the night sky, the constellations were moving. The Twins galloped across the heavens, chasing the Filly, who escaped by leaping through the stream poured out by the Water-Pony, a river of stars that gathered together in her urn and then ran in a brilliant dance down to the horizon. There was the Charger, calm and regal, stepping lightly into view before turning, as if to face them, and with a courtly gesture bowed. Other star signs moved into view, from the night skies of distant lands. The Wind-Waker griffon flapped its wings, and opposite it the Dragon King blew flames that shifted in the wind. The Sea Serpent coiled and uncoiled, spun and twirled, then stretched out straight and swam away.

The constellations fell apart, as each individual star broke away from its fellows and mingled with visitors from distant corners of the cosmos. They swarmed and whorled and spun, forming new constellations, far vaster than the familiar ones, held them only for a few seconds at a time, then turned again to form something new.

Luna tore her eyes away from the spectacle to look at Star Swirl. He stood unmoving, his mouth open, his breathing ragged and wild. Luna knew that young and untrained unicorns, especially those with strong magical potential, could be caught up in surges of power, such that their horns and eyes would glow with sharp white light as the magic forced its way out with more energy than a foal could control. Star Swirl's horn and eyes were not glowing. Instead, his horn drew in shadows that swirled and spun around it, like thin clouds rushing past the full moon in a strong wind, and his eyes were as black as the night sky above, and filled with points of piercing light.

After several minutes of watching the stars perform for them, Star Swirl's head dropped and a bead of sweat fell from his face onto the dust. Luna felt him pull back out of her mind. When he raised his face again his eyes were normal. Above them, as suddenly as they had begun, the stars slowed and were still, returning perfectly to their accustomed places.

Luna collected herself enough to draw a breath, and said, "How on earth did you do that?"

Star Swirl swayed gently side to side, then dropped down on his haunches. "I think... I thought I could... understand them. Speak to them. The stars. I think I... asked them... told them where to go... and they did." His mouth widened to a smile, and he began to laugh, weakly, at the thought of what had just happened. He looked up at Luna. "Did you like it?" he asked, pride fighting exhaustion in his voice.

"It was amazing," Luna said breathlessly. Thoughts were rushing through her head. There is more to this colt than meets the eye. Was it only coincidence that I came here? Why did I notice him, and wait for him? She found she did not know. She shivered as she felt something older and more powerful than she rushing over her like a wind. The breath of destiny, she thought. She raised her gaze to the stars, and felt them try to speak.

The stars... The stars gave him to me?

She turned back to the colt, and pointed a hoof. "Boy – look."

Star Swirl followed her sight down his side, and gasped. His flank, which had been bare a minute earlier, now bore stars. Dozens of points of light, centered in a circle, which threw off arms as though it were spinning at great speed. He looked back up at the sky, and charged his horn with magic. After a few seconds he frowned. "It's not working... I can't understand them."

Luna chuckled, her lips curling into a smile. "It will come with time." She looked up in silence for a few moments. "They say hello."

"You can talk to them?" Star Swirl asked with wide eyes.

"Not quite..." Luna thought for a second. "Sometimes, I feel that they are trying to tell me things, but don't know how. As though they have something important that they want me to know. Ponies have always believed that the stars know the future." She looked down at the unicorn. "This time it was easy. They were having fun, playing for us."

"Wow..." the unicorn looked up with awe. "What are they saying now?"

Luna looked up. "They are very sad."

"Why?"

"I wish I knew," she said. "They have been for a very long time."

After a brief silence in which they both sat silently admiring the beauty of the night, they settled into pleasant, idle conversation. Slowly the moon moved across the sky, while the two of them sat on the rocky hill and talked together.

Before Luna realized it, half the night had gone by, and Star Swirl was struggling to keep his eyes open. Luna chuckled at the sight. "What a terrible princess I am, keeping a foal up long past his bedtime. I should get you home and in bed before you fall asleep here on the rocks." She looked around. The path down was long, steep and winding, and treacherous in the dark. "This won't do at all," she tutted. Her horn took on the familiar glow of magic, and Star Swirl was enveloped in the aura. Luna picked him up, and sat him down on her back. Then, she leapt up into the air. Star Swirl opened his eyes and looked down, and the tired feelings disappeared, forgotten.

The flight only lasted a few minutes before Luna set down gently in the empty street outside Star Swirl's house. The colt jumped off her back, and ran around to face her, filling her ears with talk about how incredibly amazing the brief flight had been. She smiled, and opened her mouth to say something, but paused. She heard movement inside the house, and soon after the door swung open with a creak to reveal a very angry earth pony mare.

"Star Subtlety Swirl, what in Celestia's name do you think you're—guh!" Star Swirl's mother froze up at the sight of the Princess. In an instant she had picked up Star Swirl and thrown him in through the door, then fallen flat on the ground with her hooves over her face. "Getinsidegetinsideandlockthedoorpleasedon'teatmeI'mnaughtbutastringyoldmare!"

"Hey!" Star Swirl ran back outside, and stopped when he saw the look on Luna's face. Her smile was gone, and she looked down at his mother with cold disdain. She saw him looking at her, and her features softened into uncertainty, tinged with a hint of sadness. Down the street, other doors were creaking open, lamps were being lit, eyes peeked out from behind curtains. Every face Star Swirl saw had fear stamped all over it.

Luna sighed quietly, and shifted into the formal, courtly stance, her face assuming a hard, unassailable expression. She raised a hoof high, took a deep breath and spoke in the Royal Everhold Voice: "Citizens of Edinspur! We have graced your tiny village with our presence, so that you may behold the Princess of the Night!" Everypony in sight jumped and ran back into their homes, slamming the doors shut behind them, pulling the curtains closed and putting out all the lights, except Star Swirl's mother who still lay trembling in the dirt at Luna's hooves. "Right..." Luna said, in a more normal voice. Her face softened again, and her head dropped. "Good night, Star Swirl. We hope you had a pleasant time. We will be leaving now. Fare well."

The Princess turned away, and with a flap of her wings, rose up into the night sky, her nearly invisible companions following her. A cloud passed over them, and they were gone from sight.

Star Swirl's mother peeked up from behind one hoof. Seeing that the street was empty, and the Princess nowhere to be seen, she got up and angrily dragged Star Swirl inside. "Are you mad, you foal? Don't you know who that is?"

"Someone brilliant?" Star Swirl muttered bitterly.

"That was Night-Mare Moon, the Princess of Darkness!"

"Her name is Luna," the colt said sharply.

"Don't get smart with me, foal. She eats little colts like you whole. Nopony dares go close to her!" She raised a hoof to silence the colt before he could answer. "No arguing! Now get in your bed, and tomorrow we'll talk about your punishment for running off like that. Go!"

Star Swirl stalked away to his room, and kicked the door shut behind him, feeling a little extra annoyance when it failed to slam in a satisfyingly loud fashion. He sat down on the simple straw bed, and laid his head on the windowsill. Outside was the village, and all his neighbours. He thought back to the sight of them all looking with fear and hatred in their eyes on the princess with whom the unicorn had just spent the greatest night of his short life.

He raised his eyes to the night sky, in all its majesty, and to the moon that looked back down at him. He turned back to look at his new cutie mark, and he thought of Luna, and he smiled beneath a sharp and determined gaze. His destiny had been shown to him. In his mind, he vowed that he was always going to serve her, and never let her down.

Interlude: Red Rain.

This war has been good to me, she thought to herself as she watched the fruits of her work in the clouds. I was wasted babysitting that pompous ass in Whiteblood Manor.

Her thoughts were interrupted when her first lieutenant came up beside her and whistled. “A few more battles like this and the war will be over.”

She nodded. “It's almost a shame.”

It had been a long road to get here. She had done her time in the wall and file, and almost been killed a dozen times over. She had borne the humiliations of low office patiently. She had seen her share of defeats, of failed plans by senior officers who were still fighting the wars of their youth, and she had learned from them.

She had turned stalemates into victories and defeats into stalemates. When everything fell apart all around her, she had been the one who kept her head cool and had prevented an orderly retreat turning to a rout. She had taken the meager numbers she was given and crafted a well-honed machine, a fighting force of hardened veterans who would follow her through the gates of Tartarus if she ordered it.

She had risen through the ranks to become a Major of the Royal Everhold Air Force by hard work and quiet efficiency, and all of it had come together for this one operation.

A major force of griffon troops and supplies moving down from the mountains to reinforce the spear's point, and break through the battered defenders of Stalliongrad. She, along with every other detached squad and regiment, had been ordered to pull back to reinforce the defenders: a slow death sentence.

Instead, she had taken her troops forward into enemy territory, under cover of night and at dire speed.

Her superiors had scoffed at her plan. Regular troops would not have the speed, or the strength to fight when they reach their destination, and they would be spotted long before then. It was impossible, they all said, to lead a fighting force up into those mountains, in the thin air.

And since it was impossible, not a single griffon was prepared for her when she did it.

Griffon bodies lay scattered across the clouds in every direction, with only a hoof-count of pegasi among them. She had fallen upon an army twenty times as big as her own force, and she had crushed them.

“Word has already made it back to Everhold,” said her lieutenant, who had an uncanny knack for knowing every bit of gossip and every furtive whisper seemingly before they happened. “They're going to make you a general for this.”

She smiled. “General Hurricane,” she said. “I like the sound of that.”

Beneath her hooves, their blood seeped into the clouds, and began to rain.