Golden Age

by TheBigStallowski

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark, Romance, Adventure
Length: 11409

The Princesses have disappeared, bringing about a newer and brighter age of democracy. One mare must find out what happened to the alicorns and the Elements. Welcome to the Equestrian Golden Age.

Long ago, before the reign of Discord, Equestria was in a golden age of high culture, art, and technology. Now, years after the disappearance of Celestia, Luna, and the Elements, new political leaders rule Equestria, attempting to resurrect this golden age. Though can technology alone enlighten a culture?

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-10-21 01:57:06 UTC

This was Equestria

Prologue:

"This Was Equestria"

A canister soared through the night sky, whistling as it traveled between massive skyscrapers trailing a thin grey line of gas behind it. It hit the ground, the gas spreading amongst a crowd of ponies who dispersed, charging forward. Flames coated some of the nearby buildings as the equine mass merely advanced forward, some waving signs into the air chanting “Down with the council!”. Down fifty soldiers stood atop the staircase of the ManeHatten Councilor’s palace.

The soldiers all wore thick black armor and gas masks, a club holstered at each of their hips. Burly Earth ponies held in place riot shields, blue electricity dancing on the surface of each shield. Behind them were all Unicorns aiming rifles, many of which firing  the gas canisters into the crowd of protestors.

Slate ran out of the mass, taking cover behind the staircase to a building. He wore a black trench-coat along with a black snowcap and a microphone over his white coat and orange mane, his horn protruding through a hole in the cap. “The police are firing on the crowd! It’s starting!”

A harsh mechanically distorted voice played back to him. “Excellent. Proceed to the third floor of the building across the street. The rest of us are already in position.”

Slate poked his head from the staircase, noticing a canister flying in his direction. Shit! He quickly reached into his trench-coat, producing a gas-mask. The canister landed mere feet away from him as he felt the mask seal along the edge of his muzzle. He picked up the can with his magic, tossing it back towards the police.

He ran as fast as he could, vaulting over ponies suffocated from the gas and weaving around those still standing who were in his path. Finally making his way to the sidewalk he charged up the short staircase, forcing the door open with his magic. More stairs. It was an old building, possibly from the old days of the monarchy. He climbed the staircase which wrapped around the rusty elevator chamber. First floor. Second floor. Third floor.

The third floor was simply one level with no rooms, just debris and support pillars.  He spotted a chair with a large briefcase in the corner. Trotting to the briefcase, he opened it, revealing a sniper rifle. By the length and size of it, it had to be a .50 caliber.

The voice on the young stallion’s headset played once more. “It’s a Mark VI arcana-shot. Magically amplified, we need you to take out the riot shields. Pour your own magic into the rifle if you wanna break through those things.”

Slate’s horn lit up with a light-blue aura, enveloping the rifle in a similar field. Aiming it, he lined up a single shield into the cross-hairs. He commanded the rifle suspended in the air before him to fire, cleaving the Earth-Pony’s shield in half and splattering its wielder into the staircase. The rioters excitedly advanced as the wall spaced itself appropriately, bracing themselves for an onslaught.

Police on the upper levels drew pistols and rifles, firing upon the crowd with bullets in addition to gas. A gentle breeze blew the gas back towards the police, shrouding the base of the staircase.

Slate searched the staircase for clear targets. Ponies threw themselves onto the shields of the police attempting to overwhelm them. “I can’t get a fix!” he shouted. Soon he noticed a Unicorn civilian struggle with the riot shield of a police Earth Pony. He fired on the shield, knocking it free of the Earth-Pony’s grasp.

To the Unicorn civilian’s dismay, his reward was met in the form of a burst of bullets into his chest from the Earth-Pony’s quickly-drawn shotgun.

The headset crackled again. “What the hell is taking so long, Slate? The rioters haven’t gotten onto the staircase, we need more guards up there for the diversion to work!”

Suddenly, high-pitched shrieks broke the dissonance of shouts and gunfire. Bat-Ponies... Slate thought to himself. Suddenly, dark pegasi-like forms with shorter tails and bat-like wings descended upon the crowd, dive-bombing explosives.

Slate focused again on the staircase. He fired on an officer who fired a continuous stream of bullets from an assault rifle into the crowd. He looked up from the scope, time to reload. Just then, he noticed a flicker of light in the corner of his eye. Across the street atop a building sat a bat pony, aiming a laser-guided rifle towards him.

The distorted voice played once more. “Thank you for your service towards the Order.”

A single shot erupted, merely adding to the chaos. All the while, the mare in the moon looked down at the ponies of Equestria, the sole witness to that fateful night.

§

They say it was well over a thousand years ago, before the time of the Princesses and the Elements of Harmony. A time when ponies could work together in harmony and safety, without worry of threats or dangers. After the three pony tribes had come together in the land of Equestria united as one nation, they achieved remarkable feats of architecture and engineering as well as technological advances, and a harmonious culture which has endured even the greatest threats to our existence.

The knowledge of the three different races finally brought together set off a spark for progress, a spark which soon became a raging inferno of ideas and innovations. From the Pegasi, large cityscapes were planned based on the intricate architecture seen in cities such as Cloudsdale incorporating ancient techniques into physical buildings. This was likely made possible by the physical abilities of the Earth Ponies to build such cities, and the abilities of Unicorns to mine the metals required to create something referred to in ancient documents as "skyscrapers": lone towers of glass and steel which could rival the height of the Crystal Palace, and even "super-towers" reaching even into the stratosphere. In large cities today ponykind has recreated skyscrapers recently in ManeHatten and VanHoover, but until then skyscrapers were seen only in the sole remaining city from this golden age known as Tall Tale, where skyscrapers have mysteriously stood for millennia (it has also been the primary location of my research). Though many historical documents are burnt, and the city has been abandoned until five-hundred years ago. However, in all major cities, remnants of the old architecture can be found below the ground: the ancient sewage systems.

Remnants from this golden age are everywhere, hidden in plain sight. We have simple technologies remaining such as speaker systems, radios, music players, vinyl records, display screens, and even computing technology which we use primarily for electronic aid in military, scientific, and entertainment technologies such as airships, scanners, and video games (The recently-released "Pac-Mare" is a personal favorite of mine).

Though where did this all go? Most of these electronic devices are used for entertainment purposes such as speaker systems, music, and games, but records suggest that this kind of technology was easily available and possibly even mass-produced. In the modern era these technologies are incredibly expensive, costing hundreds or even thousands of bits, and mostly manufactured by the few artisans that even know how this technology works.

At this point I'd like to state none of these advances in the golden age would have been possible without our harmonious culture where ponies were taught to treat one another as equals, and where we thrived in a culture of tolerance, respect, and creativity. But the technology. Something had to have happened to bring about an end to this technological era, and all the evidence points to a singular culprit: Discord. His reign of chaos must have destroyed the knowledge and technology, creating a dark age where there was no education; buildings and technologies destroyed now being dysfunctional from the new chaotic world. But despite this, our culture remained mostly intact. No doubt there was some degradation as a lack of education tends to cause just that, but the values of kindness, generosity, loyalty, honesty, and laughter --the same values of the Elements-- all remained intact.

From my research, I can conclude there is more to our history than we know but most importantly I would like to focus on culture that allowed this golden age to thrive, and has allowed us to recover so well after the rule of Discord. The very few accounts of Discord's first rule show how friends and families stuck together despite all the hardships, all the insanity, all the despair of that period from ideals passed down generation to generation. Furthermore, this golden age is a testament to what the magic of friendship can really do and I see it as beneficial for us as a society to know how to use this magic to its fullest extent.

Princess Twilight Sparkle

1856 AD

"The university archives are for staff and administration only!" Shouted a Prench Unicorn from outside the dimly lit room, a mare dropped a dusty old document, probably one of the oldest things in the room. The mare once holding the parchment quickly scrambled to retrieve it on its steady flight to the floor, clumsily grasping it midair with the blue aura of her magic holding the centuries-old parchment upside down, her heart racing.

A bead of sweat rolled down her muzzle underneath the stallion's gaze. "I- I'm sorry! The door was open, a-and I found this book, and--!"

"Mademoiselle!" quipped the other pony, his face showing restraint of immense anger towards the young mare. "The university archives are always locked! Not even myself," he said, shaking a hoof skyward, "the great and proud associate provost of Canterlot University, holds a key to this threshold!"

The mare's ears flattened, her eyes wide with fear as she nervously raised a hoof, lowering into a near-squat as to enter a defensive ball, her body shaking. "AP Cible De Lis", third in command at the school, was well-known for his self-pride and short temper. At a loss for words, her wit failing her, she could only utter once more "I'm sorry..."

The Prench Unicorn took a breath, lowering his hoof. "Mademoiselle, what is your name?"

The mare swallowed, straightening her legs and regaining her composure, her hoof suspended inches from the ground. "Star Charmer." Quickly, she added "I-I'm a freshman. It's only my second week of classes, I've never been down here before."

Twiddling his thin Prench mustache, the administrator eyed Star Charmer, assessing the situation in his head. Putting his hoof down, he gestured with his chin for the young mare to exit the room. Nervously Star followed his command, her head hung low looking back at the lonely parchment sitting atop a stack of closed books, the only visible thing behind a seemingly endless well of darkness. It was illuminated only by a single beam of sunlight shining through a tall stained-glass window.

The light from the old marble hallway shone on her as she left the dark dusty room, revealing an orange coat and lavender mane decorated with a stripe of blue; the sunlight reflecting off of deep ocean-blue eyes and a neatly combed, stripe-less lavendar tail.

The Prench unicorn took a wide stance, gathering magic. She saw before her the doors lit in a lime green aura of magic, complimenting the thin stallion's red coat and lean form, as the doors slid shut with the effort of the stallion. He began working at a set of locks, sliding rods into position.

"Clearly, Mademoiselle, you could not have opened this door on your own. Did you see anypony around here, when you found that this door was unlocked?"

"No, sir."

"Any hoofsteps?"

"None but my own, sir."

The Associate Provost slid a final lock into position on the massive iron door, and gave the final lock, one similar to that of an old bank, a forceful turn, continuing to spin as he stepped away to face Star Charmer, a hoof held to his chin as he drug out a continuous "Hmmmmmm..." He put his hoof down and straightened his composure. "Then, mademoiselle, you have the benefit of the doubt. Do not let me catch you near these doors again, do you understand?"

"Then I shall be off. Au revoir, mademoiselle. I must report to le chancellor that the vault has been breached immediately!" And with that, both unicorns turn and went their separate ways. As she heard the door at the end of the hallway open and then forcefully shut, Star Charmer began to run down the hallway.

Equestria, 2053 AD

Chapter 1:

Equestria, 2053 AD.

“The university archives is one of the most important historical archives in Equestria,” explained Head-Starter. She was a sophomore Pegasus pony, with a pink coat and a teal mane and tail. Her large yet feminine muscles and cutie mark of a blue flag marked her as an athlete, yet her speech indicative of a scholarly mare. More importantly, she was the female room advisor of Scinfaxi Hall.

Star Charmer sat on the couch of the RA’s dorm, furnished with a nice twin-sized bed, two windows serving as gateways for the orange twilight to fill the room, a large desk along the freshly painted walls with a small television, and a glass computer monitor with blue holographic keys shimmering on the wooden desk face.  “If it’s so important, then why was the door just left wide open? I saw Mr. De Lis do all thirteen locks!” she said as she tucked her hooves underneath her chest and stomach, settling into the soft leather blob of the couch as it conformed to her physique.

Head-Starter settled on her haunches, head cocked sideways as she scratched between her wings with a hoof. “I’m not sure, really. I know it’s magically sealed too, and the last pony to unlock the door was ex-professor Starrynight Beard during my freshman orientation.”

Star Charmer leaned her head forward in curiosity. Could this “Starrynight” be the pony who opened the door earlier today? Clearly if he’s an ex-professor he wasn’t supposed to have been in there, and a lock like that would’ve taken a great deal of time and skill to work open, and to do it silently in a hall which echoed sound? He had to be some kind of expert.

“Is he like, a lock-smith? An arcane-master?”

“No. He’s a drunk.”

She raised an eyebrow, reading the serious expression on Head-Starter’s face as she looked directly into the Unicorn’s eyes. “A drunk?”

“A drunk. He opened the door drunk.”

Her face contorted in disbelief and confusion, turning her head to the side as to glance at the RA. “How--?”

“Don’t ask, there’s a lot of weird things about Starry, but I have a feeling it wasn’t him who opened the archives,” said Head-Starter, standing up and pulling out the swivel chair from her desk, reaching her head into the saddle-bag which lay on the floor leaning against the desk, producing a notebook and textbook. “I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you, they’ll find who opened it, punish them, and we’ll go on.” She gave the contemplative Unicorn a reassuring smile. “I promise that you won’t get in trouble.”

Star Charmer untucked her front hooves, readjusting her position, letting her spine comfortably droop ever so slightly into the lush and enveloping cushion. “I know that, but... why’re the archives off-limits, even to professors?”

The RA merely shrugged, plucking a feather from her wing with her teeth. She carefully rested it on a holographic tablet next to the keyboard causing the transparent monitor to light up with a background of a stadium with mares in uniform holding flags, a text-bar in the middle of the screen.

“It’s mostly for government officials, only the Chancellor and Provost have keys to the vault. There’s nothing really special, just records on old wars. I hear they mostly put things in there nowadays than taking things out.” The Pegasus tapped away at her keyboard, icons and images coming to life on the screen, stopping only to open a notebook covered in lead-markings.

“But, there was a book with an essay in it. It was written by Twilight Sparkle.”

The clicking stopped, and it was the RA’s turn to be surprised. “What?”

She merely nodded, sitting up on the couch, front hooves sinking into the material. “Twilight Sparkle. It was just sitting right in the entry, on top of a big pile of books.”

The older mare sat back in her chair, spinning towards her Unicorn counterpart. “That’s... wow. What’d it say?”

Star Charmer arched her back forward, producing a pop from her spine, she then stood up off the no longer comfortable couch. “It was short, she mainly just talked about the first technological era, and culture.”

“Still, that’s-- and it was right out in the open?”

The mare nodded. She recalled standing in the entry to the infamous university archives, a beam of sunlight paving a clear path directly to a stack of old books. Gilded spines binding pages yellowed with age trapped between cardboard and leather covers, held together by rudimentary string and paste.

“You didn’t tell Mr. De Lis, did you?”

“No, I didn’t even think of doing that.”

Head-Start gave the freshman a rewarding smile, like that of a teacher placating a young student. “Thanks for telling me about this, Charmer,” she turned to her computer monitor, typing on the keyboard, “I’ve gotta get this essay done, though. Tell me if anything else happens or if you’ve got any more questions, okay?”

“Done.” replied the Unicorn as she made her way to the door, opening the flimsy metal-covered door with her magic and shutting it behind her, hearing an electronic lock automatically slide into place behind her.

Just then another Unicorn mare, this one with a pink mane and white coat, slender, and the cutie mark of three golden coins bounded up to Star Charmer. Her magenta eyes glimmered with a wild smile on her face, “Hey, Charmer! What’s up?”

Charmer gave the mare a forced smile; not out of dislike, but merely a lack of motivation. She wanted to focus on the vault, but what else was she to do? “Hey, Rauna. Not much, just wanted to see if Head-Start knew what was going on with the wireless connection, it’s been kinda buggy.”

The young mare’s countenance shifted immediately into concern “Oh, well hopefully it gets better soon, I need to do that paper for Professor Neighvid!”

The orange mare lifted an eyebrow, giving out a light laugh. She definitely had an interesting roommate. “Rauna, you know that paper’s due in two weeks, right? And he prefers Professor Hooves.”

The smile quickly reignited on Rauna’s face as she jumped forward in front of roommate. “But he’s so hot! He should be an actor, or a movie star! Actually, no, that’d make it harder... harder to get to him!”

“He’s thirty-seven.”

Her roommate giggled nervously, raising a timid hoof inches above the ground. “So? Hey, are you coming to the café for dinner? The food here’s so much better than I thought! I’m still amazed after all this time here that they kept it so good, I thought they were just making it good the first week so that we wouldn’t all be going off campus for meals, but--”

“Rauna!” The other mare stopped, cut off, eyes wide with surprise and mouth clenched shut, Charmer laughed, “I get it but I won’t be there tonight, I’m heading out. I’ll be meeting up with an old friend of mine.”

The white Unicorn smiled, looking over at Charmer’s cutie mark, a mere set of six blue stars. “Can I come with? You said you’d tell me how you got your cutie mark tonight.”

“It’s downtown,” Charmer began, “I’m not sure it’d be safe for you to go, I know my way around most of Canterlot.”

The look on Rauna’s face dropped, “Oh, okay. Tomorrow night, then?”

“Sure.”

Rauna then stood on her hind legs, smiling as she excitedly clapped her hooves together holding back a squee.

. . .

If you have ever been in a rainforest, then you should know what it feels like to be in downtown Canterlot: dark, cramped, and the slight anticipation of something coming out and killing you. This portion of the city was the oldest, though centuries of conflict and disasters had destroyed most of the old buildings. As a result of its conception being a time well before automobiles, the streets were small and crowded, the original cobblestone now cracked, rocky, and uneven, some stones jutting out of the streets, and some missing altogether.

Star Charmer stared up into the night sky, forced into tunnel vision from gargantuan skyscrapers. Somewhere, thousands of feet above her and on the other side of the rock pinnacle the city was based on, her friends were enjoying a nice warm meal together in a spacious cafeteria. The golden lights above her were like the many tiny points of light seen from underneath the rainforest canopy.

Though unlike the forest, this was a place of waste and desolation. In the shorter and older buildings of brick and stone were projects storing hundreds of ponies each surviving off of the state's benefits, and in the alleyways between these  buildings were small campfires for all the displaced ponies she did not want to think about. Somewhere in the distance she could hear a siren wailing and dogs barking. The sound of shattered glass followed by a foal’s cry and a couple yelling sounded from above her. Picking up her pace, she made her way to the corner.

Above her loomed a holographic sign on a street post, the words “Hayseed Boulevard” flickering on and off as the sign struggled to hold the image long enough for ponies to see. She nervously trotted down the street, holding her limbs close together. At the other end, a pair of Earth pony stallions gathered around a fire pouring out of a rusty oil drum. They turned to her, smiling.

As she made her way to the street corner, the two stallions had trotted up to her. They were both large and muscular, one with a short-cut brown mane and cheap orange sunglasses, the other with a torn up plaid shirt, a pistol holstered in his belt. The short-maned stallion took a stance in front of Charmer.

“Heya.”

She gave a nervous smile, slowly stepping back, keeping her distance. “Can I help you with anything?” Suddenly she’d bumped into the more muscular stallion wearing the plaid shirt, he gave an even broader smile, looking down at the young mare.

“Oh yes, yes you can, miss.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw the short maned stallion lunge in, beneath the poorly tinted glasses wide bloodshot eyes. He was fast, in the fraction of a second getting closer until all of a sudden he was lost in a bright white flash.

The next thing Star Charmer saw as her vision returned was the lunging Earth pony stumbling into his friend, both stallions now ten feet away from her, yet they had not moved from the same block of pavement.

“What the fuck is this!?” Shouted the sunglass-sporting Earth pony as his larger counterpart drew his pistol, fitting it onto his hoof, taking aim at the Unicorn staring like a deer caught in headlights.

“You fuckin’ horns!” Shouted the Earth pony, ready to fire. Suddenly, in a streak of grey the pony was brought to the ground; a shorter stallion stood on top of him. He had a long black mane combed back, his mouth edged by a short black beard and mustache. Most of his brown coat was covered in a long grey trench-coat, wings hidden beneath slits on the back of the coat. The flannel-wearing Earth pony lay in fear as his friend, unarmed, frantically ran down the street.

The stallion on top spoke in a deep but somewhat raspy voice. “Get out of here. I don’t wan to see you on this block again. Do you understand me?”

“Y-you got it!” breathed the Earth pony as the Pegasus looming above him grabbed his pistol, pocketing it.

“You aren’t hurting anypony else tonight.” The Pegasus backed away, letting the Earth pony stand and retreat. He turned to Star Charmer, revealing small golden eyes. “Young mares shouldn’t be out downtown at this hour.”

“Is that you, Cloud Runner?” asked Charmer as she approached the familiar stallion, who was a few inches taller than her.

He readjusted his coat, brushing the dirt off his sleeves, “For the most part. My apartment’s not far from here. You’re lucky I showed up when I did, I didn’t think you’d come.”

. . .

Star Charmer laid down on a long leather couch --a real couch-- staring up at the motionless ceiling fan and the specks of dust floating in the beam of light which poured in from the large windows. The light was unnatural, yet despite the fact that it was nearly midnight, it felt as though it were only early in the evening as the golden city light illuminated most of the apartment living room. On the coffee table lay papers and magazines, a dissected clock, and an electronic tablet. The sound of a news reporter on a large seventy-inch television screen against a brick wall as the smell of Neighjese food filled her senses.

The reporter was a smiling petit mare, with a white coat and stylish blond mane, a smooth and attractive yet tight and formal voice “As of last night, the High Council has deployed another twenty-five hundred foot-soldiers into Saddle Arabia, a key territory of the Crystal Empire. Prime Minister Watchful Eye continues to urge the queen of the empire to surrender, yet she says that the empire will fight to the last pony.’ ”

The microwave beeped catching Charmer’s attention as she turned to the kitchen, her view obscured by a counter dividing the living room from the kitchen. She returned her gaze to the ceiling, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. You made it this far with him, just be straight to the point and don’t bring anything up.

To her surprise, she felt a metal object poke her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Cloud Runner standing above her, still wearing his trench-coat, two steamy bowls of noodles and two small plates of egg rolls sitting on the table. She looked down at his hoof, but could barely see behind the large cuffs of his coat. He gave her a friendly smile.

“Startled, Ms. Charmer?”

She sat up, confused and curious, sitting awkwardly upright in a way some ponies do. Apparently one professor was well known for this. “What’d you poke me with?”

The stallion merely pushed himself upwards so that he was only standing on his hind legs, the light from the windows falling on him. The coat slid off revealing a silver arm grafted onto his right side, and two cybernetic prostheses as his hind legs. He stretched his wings showing a left wing of natural brown feathers, while his right was a shiny bronze composed of thin metallic panels layered on top of one another substituting feathers. Underneath his wing and up to his flank, chest, and underside were weaves of black metal taking the shape of muscles. He fell to his front hooves, standing on all fours, giving a blank stare as he calmly sat down on the other couch, reaching for a set of chopsticks jutting from the bowl.

The mare on the couch on the other hand, was breathless, she slid away from him in shock, looking up and down at his limbs. Sudden realization hit her and she got off the couch, trotting over to his side, inspecting the faux limbs. “What happened to you? Wait, don’t tell me, it was--”

He cut her off, coldly. “Yes. The war. It was an artillery shell. That’s why I came back here so quickly, how I went from soldier to a goddamn private investigator so quickly.”

She nervously raised a hoof, facing the floor as she looked for the words to say “I’m sorry, Cloud.”

“Glad you care” he coldly spat at her, putting down the chopsticks. “Oh wait, you never contacted me when I announced my return.” He stood up, pointing at her with a steel hoof “In fact, you don’t speak to me for three whole years, and now you come back only because you need my help.”

Masking her surprise with retaliation, she took a step forward, fixing her bangs with a slight flick of her head, peering into his golden eyes, tiny strands of light over the irises. His eyes, too, were synthetic. “That was years ago, Cloud, we were in high school. After you graduated, I moved on, I didn’t want to reopen old wounds, you-- you...”

His gaze didn’t falter as he waited for her to finish. What had happened to him? Last they had met, he was shy, apologetic, hell, he practically worshipped her. Now things were different. Now he, for once, had the upper hand.

“I what, Charmer?”

“You were a reminder.” She took a breath, stepping back, keeping a cool stance as metal, veinless eyes dug into her, focusing and refocusing. “I wanted to leave everything from then behind, and I don’t think that needs explanation for the time being. I’m sorry for what I did, I really am, and I’m sorry this had to happen to you.”

The stallion took a breath, clearing his throat. “I didn’t respond to your message saying you needed my help, but you got to me through my website.” He sat back down in his couch, reaching again for the chopsticks. Charmer cautiously did the same, returning to her seat. “So you need my help with an investigation?”

Charmer leaned forward, sitting upright. “Yes. You’ve heard of the Canterlot University archives, right?”

“Yeah, number two on the most secure facilities in Equestria. And it’s hardly a secret that the vault’s magically locked, despite the ban on all magical devices,” he leaned back in his chair, picking up an egg roll. Opening his mouth, Charmer had caught a glimpse of a shiny silver set of teeth. “Why does that concern me?”

Charmer swallowed a mouthful of noodles, a remark which she had expected the stallion seated adjacent to her to comment upon, as was his old sense of humor. “Somebody broke in today, and we don’t know who.”

“Does the administration know it happened?”

“Yes.”

“Then they’ll find out.” He told her.

The mare merely smiled at her friend. He recognized that smile, the same smile which had entailed many schemes and revelations from what seemed to be a long, long time ago.

Some things really do never change, he thought to himself. He wasn’t sure if anything had changed about the mare before him, and that could mean a number of things. “But you don’t want me to investigate that, because you know the University’s going to get Mililocal involved.”

“Mililocal” was one of many establishments which the government owned. It was the domestic branch of military, which served as the police force. Cloud Runner had been given the option to join mililocal after his return from deployment, though he had never responded to the proposal.

The mare sat closer to the edge of her chair, smiling playfully at her old friend watching him attempt to restrain his enthusiasm. Just like old times she thought to herself. “Exactly. I want you to help me get back into the vault.”

Giving in, the corners of his lips perked into a smile. “You really haven’t changed at all, Ms. Charmer.”

The Tall Tale Tower

Chapter 2:

The Tall Tale Tower

During the Monarch Period, the ponies of Equestria had rediscovered an ancient city of concrete sidewalks, complicated asphalt intersections, and the same tunnel systems found underneath remote areas of Equestria which had now been confirmed to be part of a sewage system; and, of course, skyscrapers. Towers built of such a height Equine kind had once thought to be nearly impossible. In the late Monarch and Triarch periods, it served as a model to modern Equestrian infrastructure: the blueprint for the modern city. Though even in the glory days of ManeHatten and Baltimare, no land-built structures could compare to the commanding awe of the Tall Tale Towers.

To this day two-thousand and fifty-three years after the defeat of Discord, few buildings could dare rival the super-towers of Tall Tale. Now, if you were to ask any learned pony in this day and age about Tall Tale, they would tell you it is the powerhouse of Equestria: the epicenter of the modern era, most well-known for the Olympus Tower, which powers the entirety of Equestria. However, it is better known to most as “The Tall Tale Tower”.

Ask somepony how this power is produced, they would fail to answer. It is a secret, and the ponies of Equestria are assured with honesty none of their tax money goes into the powering. Free electricity for all, so whose place is it to complain?

. . .

The distinct sound of china touching concrete settled into the air amongst the constant hum of machinery, waking the pony. She had stuck to this schedule for Celestia knows how long, engraining it into her mind. She watched as the worker who set the tray walked to her side, tugging at chains which held her wings and hoof in place.

“Still lookin’ good after all this time, eh?”

Her eyes glazed with exhaustion, she gazed over at the worker. Sometimes they complimented her, sometimes they’d offer encouraging statements reminding her it was for the "greater good", but most would insult or take advantage of her in her now helpless state. Some would beat her, even, as she was the fuel for their hate-filled lives.

“I don’t know how you do it, but keep up the good work.” The stallion said before finally trotting out of the room.

Sunrise. Light began to shine over the horizon, over the ocean of steel and skyscrapers, stretching as far as the eye could see, lights across Equestria slowly turning off, she could feel release as she looked at the wires fixed upon her horn. They did not need to steal as much of her arcana right now. But everypony needs electricity, and in the lower cities where the sun never reaches, ponies thrived off electrical light. In the distance, she could see a spike of sky-scrapers, and a castle. Once the castle of her Princesses.

She recalled once upon a time when the ponies of Equestria believed the Princesses rose the sun and moon. She'd learned they did not, rather, they made day and night even. Now Summer's night was quick, and Winter's days short.

And all the imprisoned Alicorn could feel was guilt. She was the harbinger of this era, history could’ve taken a number of turns after what happened to Celestia and Luna, but all because of her, this is what happened. She bent down, lapping up the grey paste they’d served her. It wasn’t food. Not really. It was a magical supplement, mostly designed to strengthen her arcana but also serve as nourishment, just enough to keep her alive.

Almost subconsciously at this point she repeated a mantra that Princess Luna had been given no nourishment during her banishment to the moon, and she should be thankful for what she was given.

Being an Alicorn, her senses were painfully heightened, and immortality served as an unbreakable mold on her. It had been long since she diagnosed herself as a madmare, yet her mind suffered as it could not be broken. It would be physically impossible to be rendered a simple husk of her former self, as most mortal creatures would have in her position. Yet with her arcana fueling the whole of Equestria she could feel her people: the ponies she failed. She could feel so much pain and suffering, so much heartache and misery, all the fear, death, and destruction that plagued once sacred lands.

But even in this dystopia, she could feel the one thing that kept her moving, the magic of love and friendship. And today, she could feel, somewhere, a friendship being rekindled. Stretching her wings, she focused on the castle. One day, she told herself, one day she’d be free and burst through that window all the way to that castle: setting things right.

One day.

Strange Happenings

Chapter 3:

Strange Happenings

“Dude, move your horn.” was what a brown Unicorn sitting in the grand lecture hall had heard. It was a pleasant disturbance from Chancellor Zaracova’s monologue for his father, Cible De Lis, had told him all the details of this assembly. He chuckled to himself, barely containing a hearty laugh as he turned to his rather short classmate behind him.

“Surely you are too kind, mon amis. This horn is a grand et magnifique structure upon my head!” said the stallion gracefully with a thick Prench accent. Today was a good day for Pierre, it wasn’t even his second class and already he was being complimented.

The chancellor was an old but strong Zebra stallion with a calm yet deep, powerful voice, which grabbed the attention of everypony in the room; everypony that is, except for Pierre De Lis. Unlike many of the senior staff with the exception of Monsieur Cible, Zaracova wore a decorated black cap and gown, with a golden tassel.

“Canterlot University is blessed with the honor of holding onto the archives. The archives symbolize knowledge and education, a privilege of power which we grant to you.” Dictated the Zebra as he scanned the crowd, two hooves flat upon the pedestal. “That is why,” he began, “anypony here who has defiled the archives will not be punished should they willingly plead their guilt.”

Raising his eyebrows slightly, he scanned the crowd, and stopped at Pierre, who leaned forward boredom and fatigue.

For Pierre the room was dead silent, and nopony was complimenting his horn. If the archives were such a blessing to the students, why is it off-limits? Perhaps I should take this opportunity to explain this fine point to him now, so I may show my wit to the entirety of the university! He began to take a stand.

Zacarova gave Pierre a stern glance, predicting the sophomore’s next move as he began to stand up. Fortunately for the sake of everypony in the room, Pierre sat back down.

Perhaps another day, I will get you! Pierre thought to himself, fantasizing about stumping the chancellor, solidifying himself into the history of the university. For better or worse, it mattered not to Pierre. He only cared that he would be known by thousands of ponies for years.

The chancellor went on his lecture, eloquently structuring his phrases as he went on. “However, should the perpetrator be found against their will, they will be severely punished. Such an infraction ascends university policy, nay, it is a violation of second-tier federal law. You are aware of what that entails. Additionally, should the perpetrator admit his or her crime, they will not be reported to the state.” He again scanned over the crowd. Given his knowledge in psychology, there were no obvious signs of suspicions, and he knew of Pierre’s antics. “I wish each of you a good day.”

. . .

Later that day, Pierre sat in a mathematics class. The professor, a Unicorn stallion with glasses, held a piece of chalk and an eraser both with his magic; erasing as he wrote, rambling on about figures.

Most students wrote furiously as the professor recited formulas and terms, though two students did not. One of which obviously being Pierre who had trusted the entirety of the sixty minutes of class to his memory. The other was Rauna, who sat next to him in confusion.

“And that is that. Have you all got that? Because I have a homework assignment,” the professor began. “This will be the first and only time you use your textbook in the semester. There is an assignment on page one-hundred and twenty-seven, numbers twenty-five through thirty.”

At this the two Unicorns stood and left the room. Pierre noticed the mare had been trotting behind him, and at this he slowed his pace, giving a hearty Prench chuckle.

“Bonjour, mademoiselle! I have noticed you’ve been seeking the attençión of I, Pierre!”

Rauna smiled, showing a set of perfect white teeth. Pierre acknowledged immediately that they were better than the teeth of Trottingham mares. “Hi, Pierre! I’ve heard a bit about you,”

Pierre could barely contain a prideful smile accompanied by his signature Prench laugh. He knew the mare before him was a freshman, and news of his glory spreading to the younger ponies was a good sign.

She continued, oblivious to Pierre’s vainglory. “I’m guessing you don’t understand much of that class either, though. I’m thinking we could try to, y’know, study together, work on the materials--”

Pierre let out a callous Prench laugh, surprised by the mare’s foolish insinuation, “Mademoiselle, you are surely joking with me! I, Pierre, am well-versed in all fields of academia. I merely have no need to take any notes,” the Prenchman pointed a hoof to his head, beaming with the confidence of a god, “it is all in here.”

Rauna’s eyes lit up, believing Pierre as much as he believed himself. “Oh, then you could really help me out. I don’t understand a thing in that class, please, I need your help!”

The mare needed his help. No, not just his help. She needed Pierre. Now the upper hoof was entirely his. Raising a hoof skyward he declared, “Mademoiselle, we shall report to my dorm immediately!”

Rauna cocked her head sideways in confusion, “Uh... can’t we just go to the library? It’s a great place to chill and work.”

In Pierre’s world, the upper hoof was still his, it was always his. However, he knew of the games and tricks which mares played. To him it was a challenge, one which he would valiantly accept.

“Oh, I see your position, mademoiselle. Very well.” Pierre said, reluctantly complying with the mare’s request. She trotted forward, leading the way, Pierre bit his lip, admiring Rauna’s features. Grand cible! He mentally shouted. And with that, he followed her down the hallways.

. . .

Pierre sat bored in the marble halls of the library, underneath a vaulted ceiling decorated with hexagonal patterns. Around him were endless halls of shelves, and oaken tables of students absorbed into their studies.

Sadly it seemed he would not be getting any flank tonight. The mare sat on the other end of the table, buried in her homework. Giving himself “time to think”, Pierre browsed the internet, particularly the Ministry of Media’s website. He clicked today’s video link.

The screen went dark, save for the emblem of a single eye sided by two columns. It was the emblem of Equestria’s flag, though in this case a line progressed around the eye, signifying that the video was loading. Suddenly, the screen flashed white, followed by footage of the newsroom with the blond mare.

“Hello everypony, this is Fact Turner with breaking news on the homefront,” she began, with a warm smile, her eyes half-shut as she stared almost seductively into the camera yet maintaining her usual figure of professionalism.

“Last night, the queen of the Crystal Empire reported that she will not peacefully surrender to Equestria. Now, Prime Minister Watchful Eye is prepared to give an address to the ponies of Equestria and the Crystal Empire.”

The news clip cut to a podium with the Equestrian emblem blazoned in gold over a silver background. A tall dark grey Unicorn stallion in a black three piece suit stood at the podium, hooves held together.

“Greetings, citizens of Equestria. Last night the queen of the Crystal Empire refused a surrender, which would have resulted in a cease-fire agreement between our two nations.” With blue eyes, he stared below the lens of the camera, as though addressing a crowd. “However, there is no need to worry. For the past ten years, we have been developing a super-weapon, one which will end the conflict without any need to send reinforcements.” Adjusting his gaze towards the camera lens, he said with a smile “Within the next few weeks, our soldiers will finally be coming home.”

§

“Twenty nine,” Cloud Runner breathed, hoisting his body upwards until his chin was well over a bar in the doorway; then slowly descending, still grasping the bar. He pulled himself above the bar once more, feeling the fatigue of his left arm and resistors in the right attempting to match the fatigue as to assure a balance of strength between both limbs.

“Thirty,” he told himself as he finally managed the pull-up. In the corner of his vision, he could see the number thirty blinking. Though the workout program counted his reps for him, he could not break the military habit of counting them aloud. He slowly lowered himself, releasing his grasp on the bar. “End tuesday’s program.” He said to himself. Just then, the flashing thirty disappeared.

Morning workout’s finished, time to get down to business. He thought to himself, turning around to a desk behind him with a glass computer monitor resting on top. He trotted to the desk and activated the computer, hearing the workings of its mechanical innards akin to the processors put inside his own head.

It seemed modern technology, despite its advancements, always took longer to load. While the computer ran startup programs, he turned to a drawer on the desk. Amongst a plethora of miscellaneous items was a framed photograph, turned-face down. Pulling the picture from the depths of the drawer, he turned it over, staring.

Staring back at him were three teenage ponies in a dark room illuminated with multi-colored lights, two stallions wearing tuxedos and a mare in an elegant silver dress. It was Star Charmer, and there young Cloud Runner was, in the height of senior year, standing between Charmer and Slate: Charmer's date. Cloud had his arms over both of them, smiling happily at the photographer in the bliss of what had been one of the best nights of his life.

The monitor came to life, automatically opening the email application and grabbing Cloud’s attention. The inbox was entirely empty save for two messages, the first of which’s subject read “San Polomino closed”.

It was from one of his clients, Web-Master. He didn’t live too far away, only about a block and a half, but several thousand floors down. Web was always thinking of conspiracies, most of which Cloud Runner could dismiss as untrue. Some were even far-fetched as a plot by Watchful Eye to eliminate distinctions between the three pony races and assimilate them all into drones.

Regardless, Web had some value. He knew more of subterranean Equestria better than anypony else, being an engineer on underground urban complexes. Cloud rested his head on a hoof, reluctantly opening the email. Just then he remembered another reason why he disliked Web-Master as he read the message.

‘Hey Cog, i wuz sittin round wit sum bros watching the gaem last night, then at halftiem my cuz from appleloosa txts and tells me they closed down the highway to san polomino. he says dey got mililocal all ova the damn place, cant get txts anymore cos they cut em off last night.

Herws the crazy thing tho: my cuz was saying things bout rumblin an bright flashes in the desert, an more stangers than usual comin in & out of town. wanted 2 know if u herd anythin.

~Webz’

Web-Master was smart, sure, but typed like an idiot. Cloud assured himself that the rumbling and bright flashes were most likely just weapons tests and they might be working a bit closer to AppleLoosa than usual. It wasn’t as important as the archives. Not as important as Charmer.

The picture caught his eye once more, looking at Charmer in her beautiful dress. That was three years ago, a lot had happened since then. After everything she’d done... No, he made a promise, and he was going to keep it. He moved the mouse over the internet application, opening a browser.

“Time to find this Starrynight Beard,” he told himself. Quickly typing away at the golden holographic keys on the desk, he entered the name through Labyrinth: the primary search engine of the internet.

Hours passed. When he had started, it was only six o’clock in the morning. Now, looking out the window, Cloud Runner could see rays of sunlight penetrating the thick cover of towers. Given the light in the lower city, it would have to have be about two o’clock in the afternoon.

Eight hours, and he had found little more than official records on Starry and his Stable account. He was the former professor of arcane arts and history, currently in his forties though capable of incredibly powerful magic. And, he’d been officially kicked out of the academy for three counts of drunken conduct and attempting to open the archive vault.

After reading the word “attempting”, Cloud was ready to give up. Anything about Starry actually opening the vault was probably little more than a rumor, especially if he was drunk. Alcohol has a tendency to weaken spells and most forms of magic, along with several adverse affects on telekinesis.

Though it seemed the net administrators tried to keep as much of Starry’s official records off the web as possible. On other ponies, he could find this information in a fraction of the time it took for Starry, and an unemployed drunk like him should be of no concern to the council. Unless he wasn’t a drunk, maybe there was something more about this Starrynight Beard.

And maybe he knew somepony with answers.

. . .

For decades, modern Equestria prided itself on its multicultural society. While the nation had always consisted of different races and ethnic groups for centuries, many small villages and even the capital city Canterlot remained roughly untouched by most non-Equestrian cultures. This was seen as a flaw; a fault of an elitist society.

Cloud Runner trekked down the sidewalk of the multicultural district. Despite the “pride of diversity” as Watchful Eye called it, the place was a dump. Wind blew wrappers and papers past Cloud’s feet, carrying a light smell of garbage countered only by the aroma of freshly baked goods. Very few signs on the buildings were in Equiish or Prench, most were Bitalian, Arabic, Stalliongradi or even Zebrican. Two foals ran past him, laughing while a Saddle Arabian merchant screamed in his home tongue, interspersed with Equiish calls such as “thieves!” and “rascals!”. A Zebra decorated with golden jewelry leaned against a brick wall, suspiciously eyeing the Pegasus as he walked by.

Cloud was about to walk past the Zebra when he stepped in his path, giving a callous smile.

“Yo, coat, where you goin’?” Asked the Zebra, sizing up the indifferent Pegasus.

“Grabbing a bite to eat.” Cloud plainly replied. A text box appeared in the corner of his vision, listing the Zebra as an alpha personality type, a grid measuring hostility. Chances are, he was going to be mugged. He almost felt sorry for the kid.

“Mhm,” the Zebra remarked, “So you’s got money on ya. Thing is, with that fancy coat an eye-piece, Imma assume you got enough to go ‘round.” With that, the Zebra produced a knife in his left hoof. With a yell he lunged forward, swinging at Cloud.

Cloud’s response was instantaneous, blocking the knife with his metal wing, slapping it out of the surprised Zebra’s hand. Left hook into the jaw; disorienting the attacker. Side-step then  pivot, bucking the Zebra into the brick wall.

There was a thud and a thwack, accompanied by the sound of cracking bones as the Zebra was pushed into the brick wall, cracks forming in the wall around him. He fell to the ground, laying on his side and still breathing.

The Zebra’s torso blinked red on Cloud’s HUD, a display of a ribcage appeared in the bottom left corner of his vision, highlighting ribs which had been broken. The display disappeared, the skull was highlighted green.

The message ‘ZERO BRAIN DAMAGE’ appeared in the center of the HUD. “Don’t steal. And know who you’re up against next time.” Said Cloud Runner. He then carried on down the sidewalk.

Finally, the stallion had approached a building with green, white, and red awning, the scent of freshly baked pizza washing over him. Sitting at a table was a tall white stallion, with bright blue eyes, gelled jet-black mane, and a stylish Bitalian suit. He waved to Cloud Runner.

“Hey, Cloud! I gots us a table!” The stallion yelled in a thick Manehatten accent. Cloud sat down at the table, the waiter brought to them a full-sized, thinly cut pizza. “Thanks, Pete. Cloud, it’s been forever and a half since I last seen you, howya been?”

“I’ve been alright, Francesco. Better or worse. The information business in Canterlot hasn’t fallen, I assume?” Cloud asked. He knew that Francesco had connections all over Equestria, though time seems to be eroding things.

Francesco shrugged. “Canterlot’s goin’ down quickly, same as everywhere else. The new equality programs ain’t exactly helpin’ the business launder, so we got a slower income. Uncle’s thinkin’ of getting us into transportation, shipping. We’ll need more fronts if we wanna be back at optimal, y’know what I’m saying?”

Cloud grabbed for a slice of the pizza. They’d made it the same way for years, despite all the change. “Yeah, we’ve all got problems,” he said somewhat dismissively. “I’m looking for a stallion named Starrynight Beard.”

“The ex-professor!” Francesco exclaimed. “He ain’t doin’ much, just lives on the outskirts of lower city. We helped him get sneak some things outta the university when he was kicked out.”

“Like what?” Cloud inquired, “they didn’t let him take anything out?”

Francesco checked his surroundings before speaking. “He’s been stashing magical devices an’ ancient texts. Shit from the diarch period.”

“What’s he doing with magical devices? More importantly, how was he keeping them on university grounds?”

Francesco leaned in a bit closer. “That’s the thing, apparently he’s related to some old wizard from the first golden age. Starspin or somethin’.”

“Starswirl the Bearded?”

“Yeh, him.” Francesco laughed, “Some crazy fuckin’ names they had back then.” He sat back, lifting a slice of pizza into his mouth, talking as he chewed, “Sho what’s so important ‘bout Shtarry?”

“Charmer.”

Francesco swallowed, looking his friend in the eye. “Come again?”

Cloud Runner took a deep breath, “Star Charmer. You remember her from high school.”

“Oh, right. Her. She doin’ okay? I know what happened was years ago, but I know she’s an emotional mare.” Realization hit Francesco. “Oh, right. Everything okay between you two?”

“I guess better than before. Apparently what happened was Charmer found out that somepony got the archive doors open, and she found a document from Twilight Sparkle that had been placed there.”

The Earth-pony laughed again, “Y’know I like Charmer. I respect her a lot, she’s a great kid, so I mean no offense at all when I say that if I were you I’d have told her to go fuck herself. I mean, after what she did to you, she’s askin’ for help? You’re real loyal, y’know that?”

He was loyal. He had to be, because he promised to be there for her. Regardless of what she did, she was still his responsibility. “Yeah, I guess I am. I still wonder if it’s the right option, but I can’t deny that she’s onto something big. The essay she found was about the first golden age and the pre-democratic society. Things the state would want hidden.”

“So, you wanna find out who broke in an’ get a reward?”

Cloud smiled, sitting back. “No,” he looked around the terrace in case anypony was listening. “We’re going to be breaking in. And Starry’s the only pony we know of that can do it.

Francesco chuckled, finishing another slice. “I’ll get right on finding Starry for ya. Want me to find him or bring him to you?”

“I just need his address, not his tail.”

“You sure? I can get it to ya frozen, on a satin pillow…” Francesco chuckled, then sighed. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you an address on one condition,” the Earth-pony stated. “You bring me along for this little heist of yours. The Pavarotti family needs some money, maybe I can take a few things and sell them back.”

Cloud rolled his eyes. Despite the potential danger to the mission, Francesco knew the advantage he had. He’d just have to work with it.

“Fine, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

§

“Charmer! C’mon, Star, get up!”

Star Charmer felt hooves pushing against her side, she further buried her head into the soft and inviting pillows. The hard spring mattress felt unusually comfortable. She felt Rauna’s hooves shake her once more.

“The Chancellor’s called for an assembly this morning. Remember, I texted you about it last night?” She stopped, settling on her haunches at Star’s bedside. The groggy mare pushed herself up, supporting herself with her forearms.

“How late were you out last night?” Rauna inquired, an eyebrow raised.

Charmer turned to her friend, ready to sink back into the pillows. “Four o’clock.”

“Four o’clock!?” shouted the Unicorn. “What were you doing out in the lower city that late!?

Charmer slid her hooves forward, resting her head in the pillows. “Just... working.”

“Oh no, I know your family isn’t that wealthy, but there’s plenty of jobs up here, you don’t have to--”

“No, Rauna.” Charmer laid back in her bed, rolling over onto her back. “It wasn’t that kind of work. I-I’ll tell you about it later.”

Rauna put a hoof to her chin, tapping a lower hoof on the ground while she thought. “Tell you what, Star, they aren’t gonna notice you being gone. I’ll tell you what happened, you stay in bed for a little longer.”

“Thanks, Rauna.” Charmer mumbled as she turned over.

With that, Rauna left the room. Charmer continued to lay in bed, not quite able to sleep yet. She turned over, facing the wall covered in posters. Most were brightly colored posters featuring coltbands of young manicured stallions, though one poster stuck out.

It was a black poster of two grey-coated ponies, a Unicorn stallion and a slender young Pegasus mare, both wearing two electronic masks while standing at a turntable. They stood in front of a wall of shattering red glass, translucent fragments flying towards the viewer creating a hole in the black background overlooking an expansive black and red cityscape. The words on top in bold, red font read “01001010 & 01010100: ‘Freedom’”.

. . .

The poster stared back at Charmer, though this was not in her dorm.  She lay under the quilt of a bed, her lavender mane messed up. From two speaker towers tall as Cloud Runner techno music filled the air. It was the kind of music one would dance to at an illegal gathering; a dissonance of individually high-pitched and intrusive rings and beeps synergizing into a harmonious rhythm set by deep electronic thuds. A synthesizer played a symphonic melody accompanying the rhythmic bass and dissonant beeps.

The door opened revealing a familiar white-coated Unicorn stallion with an orange mane. “Just had to check on some things,” Slate said as he trotted over to the bed, straightening Charmer’s mane.

She smiled. He had left her in the bed without ceremony, so his unexpected leave was quite curious. “Like what?” She asked, almost giggling.

He smiled back at her, now tussling her thin mane, the blue stripe now mixed with the rest of the lavender.

“Stooooop!” She protested weakly, pulling her head slightly away from the stallion’s hoof. He laughed, playfully persisting. Smiling he leaned into her ear.

“I’m gonna mess up your mane, and there’s really not all that much you can’t do about it.” He quirkily remarked.

She grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling his thin body onto the mattress with her. Quickly, she rolled on top of him, their waists tangled in the covers while she pinned him down. Though not by that much, Charmer was bigger than the stallion however shorter. A smile set on her face as she stared down at the helpless stallion.

“C’mon, another round, Slate?” She asked, seductively lowering herself onto him. Their lips, met, she could feel his tongue in her mouth as he reached a hoof over her back and then--

An alarm rang. A notification tone from the computer on the desk. Three loud, repetitive beats playing from the speaker towers, interrupting the entrancing electronic music. Their lips parted, he looked sadly towards the computer screen. He turned back to her, barely meeting her gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“Slate...”

“You know I can’t tell you, not yet.”

She didn’t get off of him. Rather, she simply laid her head against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat and hers, both beating at different rhythms. “Tell me something.”

He sighed, it’d worked. She learned long ago that yelling and making accusations as most mares do would get her nowhere with Slate. She looked up at him, he began to run his hoof through her mane.

“There’s something big I’m onto. I don’t know if it’s really there or not, and I don’t want to say anything until I know for certain. But if I’m right...” He fell silent, she could feel her heart beating in unison with his. They heard the sound of engines outside. It was a sky car, fairly common amongst the wealthy and upper class. Not uncommon in this part of Canterlot. “I’ve gotta go.”

She slid off of him, letting him climb out of the bed, fixing his mane slightly. He picked up a leather jacket from the chair at the desk with his magic, putting it on. Charmer followed him out of bed.

“Spend the night, if you’d like.” He offered. Charmer shook her head.

“I need to get back home, y’know, parents.” She explained. He smiled lightly, not meeting her gaze. “Of course.”

With that, he pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her close. He pressed his face against the side of hers, then kissing her on the cheek. “I love you.”

She smiled. Still, after three years of dating, she felt like an excited foal whenever he said that to her. “I love you, too.” She said. Suddenly, she felt something settle along her back. As they pulled away, she noticed that she was wearing Slate’s jacket.

“It’s cold out,” he said. Then trotted out the door. He leaned back in, “just wanted to say again that I love you. I love you, Star Charmer. Can’t say it enough, I love you.”

She laughed, flattered by her boyfriend’s quirky sentiment. “Love you too, Slate!” He smiled, then trotted out the room, down the stairs.

Laying Plans I

Chapter 4:

Laying Plans I

Charmer stumbled back into her dorm, her head hung low, wearing the jacket Slate had given her. It had been a long day, and all she could think about was him.

“Have a nice day?”

She jumped; startled. Looking up she saw Cloud Runner sitting at her desk. “H-how did you-!?”

Cloud Runner threw a shiny star bearing the emblem of the Equestrian flag onto the desk. “There’s a lot you can do with a MiliMain badge, even if it is expired.” he pointed out.

Charmer shut the door behind her, slowly trotting to the desk and placing her front hooves on its surface. She eyed the tacky silver badge, studying its plain and dull surface. “That’s a private’s badge. How’d you get in without a superior?”

On the other side of a door in the dorm room the toilet flushed. It didn’t make sense to Charmer, Rauna still had classes. The door suddenly flew open, a white Earth Pony with a neat black mane wearing a Bitalian suit walked out. “Heya, Charmer, howya been?”.

The curious expression on Charmer’s face fell. “Wash your hands, Francesco.” Rolling his eyes, the stallion shut the door behind him, and the two ponies in the room could hear the faucet pour water. She turned to Cloud. “Why is Francesco here?” she asked.

“I needed somepony with connections and power beyond any social class.” He stood from the desk, pushing the chair in. “We need somepony like that.” Suddenly, they were interrupted by a girlish shriek.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!?”

“MiliMain! Cease and desist or you are under arrest!” Francesco exited the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. “Who the hell gives two rooms one bathroom?”

Cloud chuckled, “Lock the door?”.

Charmer set her hooves on the ground, leaning up against the side of the desk. “Thanks, now everypony’s gonna be wondering why MiliMain was using my bathroom.”

“All taken care of,” said Francesco with a smile. He turned to Cloud, “So, you tell her yet?”

“Tell me what?”

Cloud instinctively looked around the room. He noticed the Freedom poster hanging on the wall, then turned back to Charmer. “We’ve found Starrynight Beard--”

“No thanks to yours truly, by the way.”

The two glared at Francesco, Cloud continued. “We’re taking you with us to talk to him. He’s hiding from Watchful Eye’s ever-searching gaze, and we don’t know his magical capabilities. Neither do we know how powerful he is or what kind of traps he might have.”

Charmer sat down at the chair of her desk, looking up at the two stallions. “Why me? You’ve got Unicorns in the mafia.” she stated, directing her gaze towards Francesco.

“Charmer,” the accented stallion began, “this isn’t a Pavarotti family affair. Not part of the business. I got the resources at my disposal, but they’d never launch an operation against Watchful Eye.”

Charmer softly chucked to herself. She should’ve known how far Cloud would’ve taken this. She didn’t know how the stallion saw himself, but to her he was just the same old colt from high school. Same stupid colt. “I thought we were just taking on the vault?” she said to Cloud, eyebrows raised.

Cloud backed away slightly, a hoof raised precariously inches off the ground. Charmer read it as a defensive gesture as she’d learned in her psychology class. “We know that whatever the government wants to keep secret ends up getting thrown into the archives. I think we can find something out about the old monarchy.”

Charmer stood up, “I’m not a fan of the Council, I’ll admit, but I’m not going to put my life on the line for it.” She chided, tapping a hoof on the ground. Just then, she looked at Slate's poster hanging on her wall. If they'd noticed...

The two stallions faced it as well. Francesco trotted over to it. “Wait a minute, wait-- this is Slate’s! Bold fuckin’ move, Charmer. You can get into huge trouble with somethin’ like this just hanging there.” The Earth-pony shot the Unicorn mare a devious grin.

“What about the article you found in there?” Cloud asked, “Something about the monarchy era. They say there’s no surviving records from that point in history, yet the archives seem to prove otherwise.”

Charmer avoided her gaze, a hoof precariously raised inches above the ground.

“Slate was the first among us to notice how suspicious these gaps in our history are.”

She looked down towards the ground. They had her now. “What’s stopping us from ending up like him?”

Francesco chuckled. “We’re goin’ straight for the Council’s balls is why. They’ll be at our mercy once they risk the truth getting out.”

Cloud stepped up to Charmer, towering over the mare. “Like I said, Slate saw the inconsistencies, he knew something was awry in our government. He fought to find the truth and failed, so it’s up to us to continue his fight. He’d want no other mare than you to do it for him.”

“Go,” Charmer sat down at her desk “I need to think about it. I’ll meet you two outside the building.”

“Take your time.” coaxed Francesco. With that the two stallions left the room.