A Mark Of Appeal

by Estee

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Princess Luna, Original Character
Length: 123715

Joyous Release has what she feels to be the worst talent and cutie mark in Equestria. She's approached Luna with a simple request: that the Princess rid her of both -- forever. A simple request which happens to be impossible...

As the centuries pass, cutie marks come and go. Some are common: the healing cross, the basic compass rose, the courier bag. Others are extinct: no more mercenary companies, no more mercenary marks. A few are incredibly scarce, coming along once a generation or less: the mark for luck falls into that category. A number only manifest when the call for them arrives: train tracks didn't appear until it was railroading time. But for the most part, ponies take their mark with its associated talent and magic as a blessing in their lives -- no matter what that mark turns out to be. And they accept it as they accept themselves.

Luna, in her first truly open palace session dealing with the public, is about to meet the exception: Joyous Release, a pony who wants nothing more than to be rid of her mark forever -- and every bit of the talent which comes with it.

But marks are permanent...

(This story takes place shortly after A Total Eclipse Of The Fun.)

Cover art by Harwick.

Part of the Triptych Continuum, which has its own TVTropes page and FIMFiction group. New members and trope edits welcome.

Now with author Patreon, SubscribeStar, and Ko-Fi pages.

Published 2013-09-12 18:30:05 UTC
Last updated 2016-11-21 04:20:21 UTC

Making It A Threesome

"The destruction of a mark."

Celestia's voice was incredulous. It had every reason to be. After all, Luna had just spoken the purest of blasphemies.

She wanted to blame her younger sister's words on what was a very visible lack of sleep. Luna had admitted to only having rested for a few hours before waking herself to find Celestia as quickly as possible so that they could both begin working on what was promising to be a very strange problem -- if any problem existed which could somehow justify the five words Celestia had just echoed back to Luna in the desperate hopes that her sibling would realize exactly what had been said. But Luna was standing quietly in the Trottingham-themed section of the palace gardens, seeming to shiver slightly under the field-distorted Sun, weary face sincere. A face which was far too weary for even the minimal amount of rest which had been claimed. No, Luna hadn't slept at all, or if she had, then her sleep had been --

-- restless.

Luna sighed. "That is what I have been asked to do, yes." There was a deeper exhaustion in that. "She came to me because she felt the line would be less populated for my session -- perhaps even absent. And when she discovered she was wrong, she fled to the gardens and concealed herself until she judged things to be over, or nearly so -- then approached my Guards and quickly asked for a final, private meeting to close the night. A request which, in spite of their training and best judgment, they were unable to reject..."

Celestia frowned. "I'm going to need the full story now, Luna. You know the nature of the request you're passing along -- and you know the only thing I can do with that request. But I truly wish to hear why you would ever feel the need to repeat it at all. What she asked you for -- to think of anypony asking... I met you here, I had the Guards grant us privacy, and I raised the shield in case that wasn't enough." And oh, were there ever going to be lectures coming from the most paranoid of her own staff -- or at least silent (and quick, hoped-to-go-unnoticed) glares which would substitute for same. "Simply telling me that a pony asked you for the worst thing you've ever been asked and you needed to talk about it got me out here. And I'd have a hard time arguing that her request was anything other than that. But now I'd better get a why. The sheer level of that blasphemy..."

Another sigh, and Luna looked up at the yellow dome of her sister's shield, seemed to regard the changes to the sky made by the field's light. It was a cloudy day, but the puffballs were white and fluffy: no rain scheduled. Enough Sun streamed through the gaps to give the plants their normal tones -- or would have if not for the distorting shield, which also blocked most of the wind and kept the flowers from swaying in the breeze which lightly pressed against the borders. It made everything beneath it seem slightly off -- which included Celestia's sibling.

Luna slowly trotted over to one of the numerous benches in their current part of the garden, sank down onto it with her body draped full-length across the furnishing which was just barely long enough to accommodate the smaller Princess. Celestia didn't follow. She simply waited, and trusted the silence to do the work.

"Her name is Joyous Release," Luna finally began. "A pegasus, metallic blue, of about Fluttershy's age. She was born in Trottingham, but her family moved frequently and she never acquired the accent. I suspect that her mark and talent may be -- singular. I have yet to personally check the Canterlot Archives, but I know of no such manifestation in our own age and would think that stories of any such appearing during abeyance would have reached me, if only as crude jokes told by the less caring. My staff researched it while I -- rested -- and up until the time I approached you, they had discovered no matching icon or skill."

A unique mark? They still came along. Some were unique only within a current generation, as with Sizzler, the pony who operated the meat station in the Lunar kitchen and prepared dishes for visiting carnivores along with those omnivores who just wanted to show off. The rather disquieting steak on his liquid-red flanks was the only one currently known to exist in Equestria -- and it had been the same way for the previous holder of his station, and the one before that, all the way back to when Celestia had reluctantly acknowledged the need for such a part of the kitchen and began the search for somepony who could handle it. As holders had gone into the shadowlands, new cooks had emerged to take their place -- and never more than one at a time.

Other marks would appear and seem to be unique up until the moment a flood of similar icons followed. There had been no marks indicating any talents suited for creating, operating, and maintaining Equestria's railroad system -- not until the day Travel Track had come into an open Solar session to show her a set of plans laboriously developed over the course of eight years: construction details, requirements in metal and wood, economic impact, the opening of the continent to the possibility of travel on ground level which could move at about two-thirds the speed of a pegasus -- best-case over a total straightaway for short periods -- and carry heavier loads than any team could manage. Celestia had seen the possibilities immediately and thrown the strength of the government behind his vision, achieving the first rail network within four crazed years -- and it would have been a mere thirty-two moons if they both hadn't been so insistent on going around most of the natural features of the landscape instead of through. But once that dream had been manifested into reality, young ponies had looked at the trains and found the deepest part of themselves resonating at the sight. Track's once-unique mark of trestle ties had appeared on others, followed by steamstacks, engines, boilers... It was railroading time, and railroad operators had appeared to suit.

But some marks truly were unique. Not all of them came with previously-unseen talents: there were times when a pony's internal magic would latch onto an idea in such a way as to not quite duplicate any other icon while still showing skills which others possessed. But on the rarest of occasions, the combination would be new. A talent nopony had ever seen and a mark which nopony could work out until they saw that talent in action. With the right talent, such ponies could be Equestria's most precious resource, innovators in a country where, despite Celestia's best efforts, ponies too often clung to the familiar and shied away from the new.

Ponies with unique marks were often troubled: most understood their talent and purpose, but they often had trouble making others believe in either one. They had a feel of what their place was meant to be, but typically had to struggle in order to create it: Track had suffered through a long journey filled with outside laughter before reaching her. Those ponies could be worried, stressed, fighting to make their -- well, mark -- on a world that so often had trouble with the unfamiliar.

Celestia had met many such ponies over the centuries. Some had openly wished for fate to have tapped a different flank. Others had grumbled, or muttered to themselves in words best left to low volume. A few indulged in dark moments and long thoughts of paths closed during the deepest of hours under Moon. But ultimately, for virtually all those she had met, they wound up accepting themselves. It was getting everypony else to do the same which was most of the problem.

It was possible that this latest pony was simply struggling so much for her place as to wish for the battle to not be happening at all. Celestia could understand that, and a few carefully-chosen words could work wonders, as might official palace endorsement of this newest talent. But she had to hear what the issue was before deciding how to approach it -- and Luna was simply sitting on the bench, looking as if her second-fondest wish would be to never speak of that pony again.

Whatever the primary was, it had Luna's wings twitching in an oddly-familiar way. Something Celestia hadn't seen for a very long time and thus couldn't quite currently identify. There was a missing component...

Celestia decided on the slow approach. "Describe the mark to me, Luna," she said, smiling. "It might be something I remember."

Luna took a far too deep breath. "It is -- the hindquarters of a pony. Focusing on the rump."

There was privacy. There was a complete lack of eavesdroppers. There was absolutely no need for royal reserve. Celestia giggled.

Luna glared at her. "Sister!"

That tone and not 'Celestia', much less 'Tia'. She is upset. "I'm sorry, Luna," Celestia apologized, just barely managing to repress the next loaded titter in her internal laughter arsenal. "It's just the image... a rump on one's flank... no, I can't say I've ever seen that before, except for when a certain dance craze thirty years ago got a little out of control and -- all right, all right... it may not be unique, but I can't say I've personally seen it. Go on."

Another inhale which seemed determined to overflow Luna's lung capacity. "Like her coat, it is also metallic, but red so as not to vanish against the main hue. The tail is white and has a considerable spread to it -- again, much like Fluttershy. The hindquarters themselves are --"

Her sister's corona flared. The lightest possible coating of ice appeared around Luna's hooves.

"-- exceptionally shapely... do not giggle!"

Celestia got herself under control. "Luna... I know this is something we don't usually talk about -- but do you like this pony?" Because the ice had sealed it: a trick her little sister had often used in the early part of their mutual after when blood was starting to run hot and Luna felt focusing on something other than -- well, 'other than' sufficed -- was more important than what was within the quotes. Some ponies took cold showers or dove into freezing lakes: Luna subtly iced herself to whatever degree she found necessary. Celestia hadn't seen it in --

-- far too long.

And if that was the case, a whole new set of issues was about to arise. For an alicorn to be attracted to any other pony... Cadance had gone through with it despite all warnings, all pleas to the contrary, both siblings ignored...

More slowly, "Luna, if that's the case, we need to --"

"-- yes, I am attracted to her," Luna sighed. "So is everypony else. Possibly everypony on the continent. Her talent is for sex appeal, sister."

And Celestia went silent.

"To be in her presence --" Luna forced herself to continue "-- is to desire her. There may be no exceptions. And to feel that desire is to, after enough time spent near her, attempt to act on it. I came within two body lengths of trying to seduce her. I was not thinking. I did not wish to think. As a species, we moved beyond the point of being in heat a long time before our own generation, but... I imagine that is what it must have been like. All I had -- all I was -- turned into a single want. I would have said or done anything to have her within my bed. I nearly did. I had to fully ice both my wings simply to remain coherent around her, stayed as far away as the Lunar throne room would permit and even then..."

The words stopped. Luna took another deep breath -- too deep -- but did not speak.

"Luna --" carefully, carefully "-- is it possible you're -- exaggerating this a little? I don't keep that close an eye on you --" lie "-- but as far as I know, you haven't -- been with anypony since you --"

Sharp, angry, words meant to stab. "And thank you for the oh-so-careful watch on my sex life, sister. Because it is certain that nothing else under Sun and Moon would ever rank higher on a priority list for attending to than the status of whether I have another pony within my bed or not!"

And Celestia had gone too far. She knew it. There was no taking the words back, no way to erase anything which had happened, ever. All Celestia could do was silently sink onto her haunches and dip her head, feeling the flow of her mane slow down as she gazed at the carefully-trimmed grass and nothing else. Waiting for permission to look at Luna again.

One minute passed. Two. Three --

"-- enough," Luna said, and sighed more deeply than ever. "No, I have not. At first, there was too much for adjusting to upon my return, far too much... any attempt to reach out would not have been for attraction or connection, but latching onto a buoy to keep from drowning. Once that had begun to fade -- as much as it has, at least -- we were simply too busy, and your own lessons -- those which we tried to remind Cadance of -- echoed too strongly. There were times I felt the desire to at least seek, yes. Others when I found my eyes going over forms while thinking of traits I used to love in other ponies. But... I am still too involved in trying to find my own place in this new age to ever make anypony else go through the pains of watching my efforts or dealing with the failures when they inevitably come. Once I truly know where I fit once again -- then, perhaps, I can think about who I might fit with. But... with this pony... Tia, please look at me..."

Celestia brought her head up. Waited.

"I was never much for mares, you know that," Luna went on, briefly closing her eyes. "I thought about it, of course: so many at least briefly entertain the thought when the times of first attraction begin. Fantasies about one... and you should not have to ask which. The memory of that one... I believe it kept me from considering any others for a long time. As if I would do her a dishonor through merely looking. But that... is part of it. I am seldom attracted to mares. When I was in her presence, Joyous made me feel as if I could never find appeal in anything else. In any mare but her. And then there was Cluster..."

"Cluster." It seemed safe to say.

"You hired him, did you not? One of my Guards?"

The face swam in front of Celestia's inner vision. "Oh, yes... I remember. A very stalwart pony, I thought." Focused. A little sarcastic at times, but not in a highly offensive way. Creative and quick-witted while being fairly organized: a rare combination. Married, two daughters...

Celestia blinked. "I met his mate." Who had been waiting outside for the interview to conclude, who had been so happy to hear it had all worked out.

"As have I," Luna said. "Josdien is a rather memorably handsome stallion, is he not? And remembering that, I asked Cluster to escort Joyous to the temporary quarters I granted her -- the ones as far from mine as possible without crossing into your part of the palace. He came back to me fifteen minutes later, close to tears. It took mere minutes for a stallion who had never had any relationship thoughts regarding mares beyond 'this is my friend' or 'this is my family' to fall into 'this is the one who has changed my mind'. It took me most of the sunrise to convince him that he had not cheated -- and he had not done a single thing beyond the verbal. But the thoughts were there and I am convinced that given more time in her presence, he would have tried to act on them. Something in her talent -- crosses all the barriers. She may be a universal key for every lock."

Or a universal lock for every key, given that so many ponies want to -- and Celestia cut off the thought. What humor there had been in it was growing too dark. "Go on, Luna," Celestia cautiously encouraged her sibling. "Tell me about her."

Another inhale which seemed as if it should have cracked ribs. "Her family works as weather surveyors. You are familiar with the profession." Celestia nodded: pegasi who went into wild zones which were on the verge of becoming settlements, tried to work out the natural weather patterns and how they could best be tamed to pony needs. It was a high-risk occupation, mostly due to the frequent wild zone exposure. Those who lasted in it tended to make it a job for a lifetime. Those who didn't occasionally got to say the same, although such made for a poor set of last words. "As such, she moved frequently. It is difficult for a filly who is always changing settled zones to keep friends and after a time, it can be just as difficult to make them: reaching out to somepony whom you are aware will be close to you for only a short while..."

An issue Celestia had been fighting on a different front ever since her after had truly begun to stretch endlessly forward. Centuries of internal agony were expressed as a single nod.

"She admitted that there were times when she considered that a more -- shallow connection -- might be better for her, at least in that it would be easier to let go of," Luna continued. "But to her credit, she did struggle to make friends, or so she claimed. Still... the new filly in every classroom, always trying to connect into a puzzle which had been largely assembled before her arrival... As a young metallic, she found that many ponies were fascinated by her, and that interest became stronger as she entered puberty. She freely confessed that she began actively using their interest to draw them closer. Then her mark manifested..."

Celestia winced. "While she was still in school." Too many images going through her head, and none of them were welcome to be there.

"It was not as bad as you may be imagining," Luna told her. "At first, her talent only worked with those of her own age group, and not strongly. They were interested in her first and pouted if any rejection occurred, with some jealousy towards those who found her favor -- the same as it might be with any truly attractive mare. But as she aged, the talent strengthened. The range of those she attracted became wider. With some, she felt as if their approaches changed: from the subtle or even the annoyance of a pick-up line which has not changed in over a millennium to the extremely direct and beyond. She did not say as much to me, but I can now guess that stallions who had no interest in anything but other stallions, mares who felt those stallions should stop taking buckets from their private pool -- even those began to turn their heads towards her. It was a slow process -- years. But it became worse and worse, Tia. She finally became convinced that if she continued to stay around other ponies, there would be at least one who would abandon all civilization in order to possess her. From the way she trembled as she related that part of her story... I do not believe any succeeded, but I feel somepony at least seemed as if they were about to try, or perhaps made the first step in their attempt..."

The wince became a shudder. "She ran away." A statement: it was the obvious next step in the story. The next scream in the nightmare where no amount of sound called back the real.

Her sibling nodded. "She was extremely familiar with the wild zones due to her family's occupation -- but because of that knowledge, she did not wish to try surviving there full-time. She retreated to the fringe outside San Dineighgo and if it was truly necessary, made brief visits into the city just before all the merchants closed, rationing out the few bits she possessed while scavenging what she could during the emptiest parts of the night. And all the time, her talent continued to strengthen. She realized it had reached the point where not even retreat was enough when ponies began to search the fringe for that mysterious stranger who had passed them under Moon. Shortly after that, she flew to Canterlot, made her way through every shadow she could find and hid until the open session presented itself. And... I asked you out here, Tia, because she told me not only that she had hidden in the gardens, but exactly where within them, and..."

Fifteen seconds. Thirty. Forty.

"...I had hoped this section would still -- retain her scent..."

The silence closed in. Celestia forced it back with an act of will. She had to say something... "No, Luna, I don't remember her talent ever manifesting before -- and I'm surprised I haven't heard of it until now: I'd think it would be the sort of thing hundreds of ponies would have shown before her. There's a chance this could have escaped me while still being logged in the Archives, but -- this could be unique. And for her to be progressively losing control of it, having it become stronger than she can handle..."

Luna nodded. "And thus her desire. Blasphemy, yes. But it is a blasphemy she sees as her final resort. She told me that she has tried to -- rid herself of the mark. Physically."

And they both shuddered.

"The one part of a pony which always heals perfectly," Celestia softly said. "No matter how many parents who hate their child's mark beyond all reason decide they have a way of starting over..." Words which made her sick. Memories of trials that haunted her dreams. Sentences which couldn't have been any harsher and somehow still weren't enough. "It doesn't work, Luna, you know that. It never does. The talent goes on while the skin repairs itself and the coat grows back."

"But she did not know," Luna replied. "Or at least did not wish to believe it. After that -- she tried to research magics, but they were spells she could never cast and access to the materials she most needed meant being around too many other ponies for any true attempts to reach them. So she came to me... and now I am coming to you. She needs help, sister. Ponies who cannot remain clear-headed in her presence -- ones who perhaps cannot stay themselves. I already know that she strips others of their nature with her presence, at least in overriding that which they would normally be attracted to. What else does she do?" The words were coming faster now. "Do ponies express their attraction only according to their personality, or does even that vanish with continued exposure? Had I been locked in a room with her for hours without any means of shocking myself back to some level of sanity, would I have settled for simply attempting to seduce her?" And faster. "Tried to order her into my bed? Would any pony who spent too much time near her while receiving only rejection attempt assault? Would I have --"

Of all the little problems associated with the energy which suffused their manes and tails, one stood above all: the results were not quite solid. Attempts to press tearful eyes into the flow would find the salty drops going through. And so as Celestia closed in, dropped to all four knees before going lower still, she shut her eyes, reached deep into the magic of their mutual after, gritted her teeth as she marshaled her strength towards the horrendous effort required for any temporary degree of negation...

...and then Luna was crying into her mane. Her true mane.

She held the position, let her hair and coat absorb the flow.

"That's not you," she whispered to Luna. "It never was, it never could be. Even when the Nightmare -- submerged -- " buried "-- you, it never tried to do anything like that..." The Nightmare which had not been Luna in any way, had simply taken her sister's basic personality and used it as the starting point for the warping, the distortion it pretended was the deepest thoughts and desires of the real...

"I do not know," Luna just barely whispered back. "I want to believe it, I do -- but when I was with her, it was so hard to do anything which wasn't wanting, or feeling as my entire life meant acting on that want... Tia, she is one of the loneliest ponies I have ever seen, and all the worse because she knows how isolated she is. She has reached the point -- where it seems as if blasphemy is her last recourse. If her talent continues to strengthen, if she cannot find control -- and she has been trying to find it for years... Can you understand why she would think such a thing? Even begin to dream of it, no matter how wrong it might be? If blasphemy is the only safe haven left, the only chance for a life..."

Celestia's wings stretched out, covered her sister as best she could. Luna's forelegs reached towards her.

They stayed that way for some time.

Finally, when the tears had stopped, Luna withdrew slightly, regarded her sister's mane, and smiled. "Now there is a reason to be glad for the invention of cameras -- even if one seems to be lacking in presence now. Fortunately, I am certain there is a suitable model in my bedroom. Hold that position: I will be back in a moment..."

"Luna, don't you dare --"

Luna giggled -- but the sound seemed forced. "What, I am suddenly the only pony in Equestria who cannot collect thousands of mostly-counterfeit bits in Murdocks' payment for a truly embarrassing image? But I wished to see what base metal had somehow snuck into his coffers on this occasion. We have seen too little of nickel of late..." The partially-false mirth faded: Luna's eyes went downcast. "Tia, somepony must help her -- and I do not know how. And so she truly needs both of us. Will you assist me -- and save her --" too long a hesitation "-- if we can?"

"Yes," Celestia immediately replied. "But the mark -- Luna..."

"I know," Luna sighed. "I know it is impossible. So we will try everything else before we consider attempting that. Where do you wish to begin?"

"With speaking to her," Celestia immediately decided, straightening up. "I want to hear the story in her own words: she may give me a detail which she accidentally left out of what you heard -- simple exhaustion from staying up all night to reach you." A talent out of control... "And I should meet her, period. It's possible that -- and please don't take this personally, Luna -- some ponies are simply more susceptible than others. I am older than you, and I have more -- experience in dealing with -- urges." Centuries' worth. "So there's a chance I can also deal with her presence better than you. That's no slight against you, just --"

Luna's head had come all the way up again, and her eyes were fully open. "-- Tia, that is a bad idea."

"Meeting her? I have to speak with her if we're going to work on this."

"You should not meet her alone," Luna insisted. "A universal key -- and no matter what you might insist or how well and long you have controlled your so-called urges, we both know you still have a lock. And unlike me, you have no ready way of cooling down. I suppose you could try to overheat instead, but I am guessing that temporarily coating my wings in ice is rather more harmless than any attempt you might make to set yourself on fire."

Celestia was beginning to feel somewhat insulted. "I can handle this."

"I do not wish for you to find yourself in a position where that is tested," Luna shot back. "Supervision is required --"

"-- which you didn't call for once you knew what was happening!"

"It only would have been another to potentially lose control!"

"And I could say --" Celestia bit the last words before they could escape, listened as they ran squealing back to their pen. "-- and we're fighting over her without any presence whatsoever... All right -- let's try it this way. Where is she right now?"

"Still in the palace," Luna offered, "but hidden. After what happened with Cluster, I did not want anypony knowing exactly where she was. So I teleported into her room, told her I was bringing her to temporary safety --" Luna blushed "-- which she did not take well -- and moved her elsewhere. And then sealed that. I kept my exposure brief, I sent food in, notes saying I would speak to you... and I am certain she is still terrified and thinking only that I am holding her for my own purposes... which..." The blush became deeper. "...she has every right to think..."

Celestia sighed. "But you didn't go to her instead of sleeping."

Dryly, "What sleep? Every scene I conjured inside my own nightscape shared the same theme, and I believe you can guess what that was."

"Then you've kept yourself under control," Celestia told her. "Maybe it's just a matter of knowing what she can do and being braced for it... So take me to her. You wait just outside the room and listen to everything I say. If you feel things are going beyond what they should, you teleport in and get me out. Agreed?"

Luna went directly for the heart of it. "And if you fight me?"

Immediately, "Anything but -- that one spot."

Which produced a small smirk. "Then agreed. Is there anything you wish to do in order to prepare?"

"No," Celestia frowned. "I know what I'm up against and I'm braced for it -- okay, I know that look: what were you thinking I should do?"

The smirk got wider. "Oh, perhaps a little -- time alone -- time spent in, shall we say, cleansing certain impulses through early satisfa --"

"-- stand up already." Her sister, still smirking, did so. "Okay -- you're escorting me into the between, and I know we're not going far. Shall we?"

"Yes."

Luna moved into close contact -- and twin flashes of light took them away as the shield collapsed.

After a minute, several worried Guards ventured into that part of the gardens to find a bench which was colder than it should have been and a few last shards of ice.

Luna waited. Pressed her left ear more tightly against the door, rotated it slightly until she was convinced it was forming a seal even more perfect than the one she'd had a few seconds ago. Waited some more.

Celestia's words were surprisingly even. Those of Joyous still held fear as a permanent non-guest which had been refusing to move out for moons, but it was currently residing in the basement of the residence and had no interest in poking its snout upstairs. They had been talking for some time. Luna was familiar with most of it.

The first room Luna had chosen for Joyous was one of those saved for visiting dignitaries: diplomats, ambassadors, the rulers of the other countries, those who could not stand the thought of a night spent in anything less than total opulence and might just start a war over any pillow which wasn't fully fluffed. She had picked it because it was comfortable, because the locks worked from the inside, and -- well, and because the bed within was so --

-- but with Cluster suddenly showing interest in exploring a whole new aspect of life, Luna had decided that wasn't good enough. And so the second room had come into play.

'Room' felt like a fair term. 'Dungeon' was somewhat too unkind.

The majority of the ponies who worked in the palace were unaware of the cells beneath it: the entrance was too well-concealed, the ventilation equally so -- and from what Celestia had said, that area hadn't been used in generations. But in the past, there had been times when Equestria had gone to war, and some of those battles had ended in the capture of opposing generals, princesses and princes, and rulers of all titles. And even in those times of strife, there had generally been a silent agreement in place between the warring nations: maybe we're sending our citizens out to potentially die over these issues, but that doesn't mean we personally can't be civilized. And so there were cells -- but a few of them were richly furnished and came with their own little libraries, although all the furniture within now overqualified for 'antique' and the bookshelves were desperately in need of updating to include something written within the last few centuries. The area was secure, comfortable, and almost impossible for anypony to reach. Only a very few had teleport arrival sites for the halls outside it and of those, only she and Celestia knew Joyous was even within. It had felt safe. And in no way like she was trying to save the pegasus for herself, at least up until the moment she'd brought Celestia into the rough area and had to explain that part.

In retrospect, Luna was more than a little embarrassed -- again. But it still felt as if it had been a good idea.

The door was largely airtight. It helped, or at least she kept telling herself it did. She was trying to concentrate on hearing the words. Focusing on sound more than scent. A scent she so badly wanted to immerse herself within.

Hoofsteps were approaching -- and then there was a knocking at the door. Four, then two.

Luna opened it. Celestia stepped out. Behind her, Joyous was trembling slightly, as she had throughout her talk with Luna -- but the expression was the same as it had been towards the end, only now even stronger. A desperate hope which had only been boosted by the knowledge that there were now two Princesses at work on the problem.

Luna inhaled. Immediately wished she hadn't. Closed her eyes against the intrusion of fantasy and shut the door. Opened them again to look at her sister, who was standing still in the dungeon hallway three body lengths away.

Actually... very still. Even the once-again flowing energy of her mane was nearly stable.

And on closer inspection, Celestia was barely breathing. She was not-moving as if anything other than not-movement would result in lots-of-movement, and for a stranger to ask what kind might be ruled as a very exotic means of suicide.

"Tia?"

"I -- have to go."

"Oh, really," Luna observed. "And if I may ask -- and I feel that I must, in the event that something should happen where I need to seek you out -- just where are you going, exactly?"

Celestia was facing away from her. Turning back would have meant movement. "Trotter's Falls."

"Trotter's Falls..." Luna mused. "Now what is there that you would be in such a hurry to reach it? Is there a specialist in magic and the manifestation of marks and talents whom you need to consult?"

No response.

"Perhaps an ancient artifact perfectly suited for just such a situation which you have had no need to retrieve until today?"

Still silence.

"For some ineffable reason, you require a visit to that rather pleasant fountain they put up commemorating the Return?"

An absolute lack of words answered her in every way.

"Or is it simply -- what you told me was the single coldest lake in all of Equestria?"

"...oh, shut up."

Think Unsexy Thoughts

To Celestia, it felt like the lead-in for what was almost guaranteed to wind up as a singularly unfunny joke, the sort of thing which occasionally took the center of the Solar throne room during her own open sessions and never made it onto the comedy tour afterwards: 'How many Princesses does it take to write a letter?'

In this case, the answer seemed to be something over one.

With Luna finally collapsed into some form of sleep -- an exceptionally movement-filled one which had briefly renewed Celestia's old wish for the ability to visit other nightscapes just before bringing on the blush as she considered exactly what might be found there -- the elder sister had resumed her normal duties: a session of the Day Court followed by a scheduled meeting with the minotaur ambassador over lowering the tariffs in both directions across their borders. (Progress was being made -- by them. Getting the Mazein Senate to cooperate with their agreements was proving rather more difficult.) Then there had been a teleport to Cloudsdale because the mayor there insisted on personally being told just why her city hadn't been chosen to host the recent eclipse and apparently wasn't willing to take "Because not only would I have had to adjust the Sun's path, but everypony who isn't a pegasus gets tired of your unofficial city motto: 'Visit scenic Cloudsdale -- for all of two seconds'," for an answer unless it was coming directly from Celestia's mouth, and that had just led to another rant about why pegasus cities so seldom got the Games and how could the Empire possibly be up for them this time around, they didn't have the facilities for the air events and their own sports -- well, who even knew what those were, not to mention if wings helped best all others while playing them, it was anti-pegasus discrimination and everypony knew it...

Celestia had gone through all of it as part of a more-or-less normal day, right up to the mayor's sudden silence upon being asked when the pegasus technique which would work like a cloudwalking spell would finally be available. But she'd been -- distracted. No more than eighty percent of her attention had been focused on anything. She'd been thinking about...

...the water had been every bit as cold as she'd remembered. It had helped.

A little.

However, it hadn't done anything to prevent relapses and while her own abilities were perfectly suited to speed-drying her coat, a number of brief absences had needed explaining away. She'd found herself entering verbal repeats on the third attempt.

But now, with her official duties finished for the day and some time remaining before she could reunite with her sister to truly begin work on the problem, Celestia had an hour to herself -- probably more, given that Luna was still determined to wrap up the lost eight minutes from the open Lunar session and that was just begging to run into all kinds of overtime. And so she'd started with what had felt like the most necessary step: the tracking of Joyous' family.

The Canterlot Archives hadn't been much help. Census data recorded a pony's location when the survey was taken -- but not how long they intended to stay, let alone where they were going next. Celestia generally took a full census every three years, and the next was still ten moons away. As of that last count -- made sometime after Joyous had fled -- her parents had been in the desert, examining the movement patterns of the dry winds in preparation for any pegasus settlement which might follow the earth pony ones (and still hadn't, although Celestia expected something within the next two years). But they hadn't stayed there. Their last tax forms showed them closer to the west coast -- but they hadn't stayed there either. And those papers also revealed them to be independent contractors, which left her with no regular employer to contact and discover their location through.

She wanted to let them know that their only child was at the castle, under her direct attention and care. That she was working on the problem -- an issue which Joyous' parents must have known about to some degree, or at least so Celestia hoped. There was so much that she was hoping, and part of that centered around settling the minds of those ponies, letting them know their daughter had been found, that they could stop searching... and there had been a search: Joyous' disappearance had been reported to local law enforcement. Those ponies hadn't been able to do much with it: trying to track a young endurance flier -- one who had much less reluctance than the average pegasus about leaving the air paths and going through wild zones -- was typically a good way to get one's futility some little-wanted exercise.

She's alive. She's with me. She's safe under my wings.

Celestia badly wanted to tell them that. But she didn't know where they were. She'd sent out messages, told police departments all over the continent to be on the lookout -- which would mean nothing if Joyous' parents were currently surveying another wild zone. And that meant her last resort was a letter -- one she couldn't be sure would even arrive.

Oh, she'd taught Spike well -- to the point where the student now outperformed the teacher. Celestia could send a letter using a modified version of Spike's system, one which required no dragon flame at all. But her version had a requirement attached: she generally had to know the recipient -- and the better she knew that party, the stronger the chance of the letter coming through. Celestia could reach Spike anywhere in the world simply due to the hours they'd spent together in his private lessons -- but Spike could target ponies he'd never met in locations the little dragon had never been to. He worried about such letters, he was eternally concerned about fumbles and the embarrassment or worse they might cause --- but the worst he'd ever done was send a message meant for her to Luna, and he'd been stressed to the point of terror at the time. For that effect, Spike could do more than Celestia. She could put the letter into the aether -- but with two ponies she'd never met, there was no guarantee it would ever emerge on the other end.

Still, until somepony could find them, it was all she had. And so she was working on that letter.

This was the ninth draft.

Dear Mrs. and Mrs. Release,

First: your daughter is safe. She is currently with me in Canterlot. I am keeping her close. I will know exactly where she is at all times. I will not let her leave my side. If I have to sleep in her --

No.

Her field crumpled the paper, brought a fresh sheet into view.

Please be assured that I have no improper intentions towards her. I shall retain royal decorum and Princessly protocol at all times. You may recall the formal series of announcements which preceded the wedded union of Princess Cadance and Shining Armor: should you not see any such thing regarding myself and Joyous, you will know nothing is happening between us. Naturally, this also means you would be the first to hear about the wedd --

Take eleven.

...I realize you may have certain fears regarding this, but I believe I can answer all of them. For starters, I am quite aware of my sheer physical size and all the ways it could potentially create difficulties within the Royal Bedroom. Be assured that over the centuries, I have carefully planned out methods of getting around every last one of them. While I will not include diagrams here, such exist, have never been seen by the general public and if I have anything to say about it, never will be. But they are actually rather simple to memorize and I'm certain a degree of improvisation can be added on the fly. Which, as your daughter happens to be a pegasus (and the most beautiful one I've ever had the honor to see in my lifetime, something I hope truly impresses you both when you fully consider all of the implications), we may be able to render quite literal --

Celestia blinked. Reread the entire thing.

Went between.

Seconds later, a second flash of light bounced off the gold inlays of the Solar Throne room, and the cold water dripping from her coat ran across the marble to soak through all the discarded drafts, which was going to make it slightly harder to dispose of the evidence later through the usual route of setting it all on fire.

A distinctly avian snicker came from overhead.

"You," she told Philomena, "aren't helping."

The phoenix regarded her with an expression which indicated help had never been any part of the plan.

Celestia sighed and, not for the first time, contemplated a future where she was just about eternally stuck with a pet who was essentially Angel Bunny with wings, extra centuries of prodding experience, somewhat improved long-term planning skills, and a nastier sense of humor. "You know you can be replaced, right?"

That got her something closer to snigger than snicker, with little licks of flame punctuating the sound. The phoenix knew she would never do it -- as did Celestia. The most they ever did was prank each other, and that with something considerably less than mercy. But...

"You should be familiar with the problem," Celestia added. "Phoenixes go into heat and no, I don't care about the pun. I remember the last time you couldn't focus on anything except finding a male -- not to mention my having to track you down across two-thirds of the continent when you ultimately decided the only place to look was around your own original birth nest. Doesn't that give you any perspective on this?"

Philomena spread her wings, looked down at Celestia from the elevated perch -- then glanced at the discarded letters. And with the near-precognition that came from having owned the same pet across an ocean of time and knowing just how the bird's mind worked, Celestia internally conjured the image of the approaching swoop, grab, and delivery to the Lunar wing, indelicately dropped onto her sister's face in just the right way to both spread the paper and wake her sibling up...

Celestia shrugged and turned away from her companion. "I'm running low on paper," she wearily noted aloud, ignoring the shifting shadows as Philomena's generated light started to move with the phoenix.

No answer. Naturally. It would have distracted Philomena from lining up the attack angle.

"And," Celestia peacefully added, "quills."

Her field lanced backwards.

"Would this be the part where you once again explain the joys of animal companionship and advise me to consider seeking out something suitable?"

Celestia blew a final burst of soot from her nostrils: it settled onto a Moon-lit white lily. "Not really... okay, stop smirking: let's go over what we have so far."

Luna sighed. "If we must," and took her own bench in the gardens, her position almost exactly matching that of her sibling. (They were not using the Trottingham section this time: the San Dineighgo portion had been mutually, silently chosen -- and both were trying a little too hard not to think about that.) "I see very little reason to run a full tally of rejected concepts, however. We already know what it is not and the things which will not work. Reciting them hardly accomplishes anything beyond a waste of time."

"It may jog our memories as to something we're overlooking," Celestia replied. "Checklists exist for a reason, Luna -- and part of that is seeing what you forgot to cross off. You first?"

"And the rest is driving your student to a rather unique level of distraction," Luna grumbled -- then brightened. "Sister -- do you wish to involve her in this? A third perspective could not hurt, and all we would have to do is send her our notes -- actual contact with Joyous should not be required in any way. There would be no additional --" and she visibly bit off the word 'rival' just in time, lips already in position for the first syllable, breath stopped a split-second before final commitment.

Celestia's mind tried to conjure an image of Twilight and Joyous in the same room together and succeeded. Then it tried to advance into 'Twilight excited about something which isn't magic, a new book, research, or a Very Important Lesson' and promptly rebelled against one of the most unlikely resulting imaginary seduction scenarios to come along in more than a thousand years.

No, Twilight would not decide foreplay somehow meant writing on her. Not with anything other than the finest of quills and most delicate of field movements... and Celestia wrenched herself away from the waking dream before it could fully add the reference texts, lettered experts standing by within the room to advise on technique, and careful loving application of the check-out stamp. "I don't want Twilight involved in this."

"Why not? She does not have anything near our experience, but this is most likely an issue of magic. Potentially the deepest magic known to ponies. Bringing in the current Element of Magic could hardly hurt, as long as we take steps to keep her -- from anything she -- potentially cannot..." Luna's voice trailed off. Her expression suggested her own internal scenario had just reached the sensuous opening of the card catalog.

"I don't want Twilight studying mark magic," Celestia firmly said. "Not unless there's no other choice. She's already going to be skirting the borders of it with --" and it took two incredibly audible seconds before she could force herself to continue "-- that spell." Two words which raised the overall temperature in the gardens by five degrees and put several of the closer, more delicate blooms on the verge of wilting.

They also made Luna sigh. "Sister, we both have the same bad memories -- but she is not --"

"-- I don't want her in on this," Celestia insisted. "I know who she is, Luna -- and who she isn't. But that is still the last topic I want her investigating. There are certain things she's not ready for."

"And you will continue to insist on that despite all evidence to the contrary," Luna dryly responded. "You are not being reasonable, sister. I can hear it within your voice. Can you?"

So? "She's my student, Luna. When I want her to study that, she will. She's not ready. I'm not only the final judge of when it'll be time for her to investigate the subject, I'm the only one, and you're not going to --"

"-- are you aware of how loudly you are speaking at this moment?"

"It. Is. Not. Going. To. Happen!"

They both waited for the echoes to die away, and not just those of the thunder.

"...I'm sorry," Celestia finally sighed. "I just -- it's not time, Luna..."

"You are afraid." A plain statement.

The silence pressed down on them, added its own weight to that of memory and a pain the years had done nothing to weaken.

"...yes."

Luna nodded, just once. "And I -- am not. Because Twilight Sparkle -- is exactly that: Twilight Sparkle. No matter what you might fear in your heart of hearts, Tia... in the end, she will be exactly herself. But as you say -- your student. So for now, I will accept your judgment. I simply ask you to remember where that verdict truly comes from -- and thus to realize that should we fail, the judge in the case may wish to recuse herself for being too close to the subject."

Celestia shifted slightly on her personal bench, one of those she'd had placed in the gardens simply so there would be a few scattered pieces large enough for her to actually use in comfort. Stared up at the Moon.

"This is part of why I need you, you know."

Luna smiled. "A touch more specific, perhaps?"

"Somepony has to tell me when I'm being stupid. All right, Luna -- if we completely run out of options, I'll think about bringing her in. But not before. Give me that much. I don't want to face this until I absolutely have to."

The younger sibling nodded. "Agreed. But should we be at the point of that last resort --"

"-- we take it," Celestia reluctantly finished. "But for now, let's go over the rest."

"Very well," Luna conceded. "But as little as I wish to begin with one particular subject -- you have brought it up. And therefore, I would like to remove it from the list immediately." The next two words were spat. "That spell. Is there any chance that this is the place it can finally do something other than damage?"

Which got Celestia to sigh. "I still can't cast it. Admittedly, I never tried that hard while you were -- away. Or at all. I didn't want to study it too closely... it was almost leaving that last bit of dignity intact, Luna, a way of honoring who he'd been before... But I don't know how it works. I don't know how it creates those side effects -- making everypony for acres around think the new was always the true, just for starters. As it currently exists in its flawed or incomplete form, depending on whether you still think it's broken or just unfinished --" an argument they'd had in the deep past "-- it is a spectacular abomination of a failure. And it won't help. Even if one of us mastered it now, we'd still need a second pony, a volunteer to be switched -- and it would be like the first time. The marks transfer and -- the important part this time around -- the talents are driven into latency. But the first situation which would require that buried talent to be expressed starts unraveling the working and brings it all back. Somehow find that volunteer, learn how to cast the spell -- and then we'd still need to keep her away from any situation where sex appeal would be of benefit for the rest of her life. Which is an isolation level equal to what she had already. I would consider using it if I thought it would do any good, Luna -- but it won't. At most, we'd buy her a few days, even at the risk and cost of casting that -- thing."

A slow nod. "I had thought we could keep her away from such situations -- but you are right: it is not realistic. An isolated life with no hope for connection or contact, using that spell as a solution, would only lead to the same."

Celestia nodded. "Well," she dryly added, "now we know how seriously we're both taking this. Mutual independent consideration of actually pulling out the single worst possible magical option."

Luna shifted a little on her own bench, stretched her wings. "So let us move on to the lesser offenses. Magic which directly affects marks. I had little time to research any changes which might have been made to the more basic spells, but I assume nothing had been developed which masks the mark and suppresses the talent? In the early part of our mutual time, the best one could do was hide their mark for a few minutes with great personal effort -- and such did nothing to stop the magic."

"It's almost the same," Celestia conceded. "The mark resists. It won't let itself be hidden: dyes drip away, blending potions wear off. Clothing covers and doesn't trigger counters -- but the talent remains untouched. There has been one new development and after hearing what you just said, I know you haven't seen it yet, but..." She sighed. "It's almost useless."

Luna's ears perked. "Tell me, sister. Anything we could do... something we might be able to refine..."

Celestia took a deep breath, let a familiar face come into inner vision, at least for as long as it could block out that of Joyous. "There was a very talented researcher, seven centuries ago. Kalziver. You would have liked him, Luna -- he always saw the impossible as his starting point." There had been a time when Celestia had felt that he might have been -- but if that had been true, it had never worked out. "He recognized that in times of battle against other ponies whose marks were for warfare, their best weapon was the mark itself -- having their internal magic channeled into boosting their fighting skills, the ability to both strategize and change plans faster than the opposition could adjust, use intuitions which occurred to nopony else, and everything else that came with a battle mark. So he put his own skills against the impossible -- and found a means to take that weapon away."

Luna blinked, leaned forward, wings quivering. "He discovered a method for negating a mark?"

A simple "Yes," began the response. "It's one of the most difficult spells there is, Luna -- but it works. It severs the connection between a pony and their magic -- at least for the magic of the mark itself. Use it on a unicorn and they can still marshal their field: it's just the talent which vanishes." Although Celestia had wondered what would happen if the spell were to be cast on Twilight. "The mark is still there -- but for the duration of the spell, it means nothing. Cast this on a pony whose talent is battle and suddenly, they're just like everypony else at that general skill level: no special advantages, no magical insight -- and if they were relying on the mark too much, or can't adjust..."

"So -- why is it almost useless? It sounds if it is ideal, sister. Is this one of those rumored and previously unknown spells which for some ridiculous reason requires strange ingredients and nonsensical incantations, neither of which is available to us?"

"No. Any caster strong and careful enough to use it just has to learn the feel of it."

"Then why is it not our solution?"

"I've never seen it take less than the full triple corona --"

"-- we can be isolated and safe from backlash when we cast it --"

"-- it's incredibly hard to do --"

"-- I have faith in both your skill and my own ability to learn --"

"-- and the longest I've ever been able to make it last was ninety-eight seconds."

Luna blinked.

"Ninety-eight seconds."

"Yes."

"With your strength."

"Most ponies who can work it just barely make it hold for twelve. And then the pain sets in. The headache is like nothing you've ever felt, Luna, like a double-side migraine got together with the worst hangover of your life and they both took classes from the world's only three-hour brain freeze. It's magical blasphemy, almost as much as -- that spell. It's denial of -- everything we are. And going against ourselves on that level has a price. But Kalziver understood that there were times when we'd need that level of last resort -- so I let him create the working and studied it myself. I've had to use it a few times. It's effective. It does what it has to. The Severance is the last resort, Luna, because after you use it, you won't be doing much of anything else. And for me -- it lasts ninety-eight seconds."

They looked at each other across the orchids.

"And that is the pinnacle of reliable, controllable, consistent mark-affecting magic," Luna not quite asked.

"Yes," Celestia replied. "Kalziver was a genius, Luna. Nopony else has been able to advance his theories. Most don't even understand them. Honestly, there were times when he lost me about two hours in..."

A light breeze shifted the flowers, ruffled through their coats. Luna had seen no need to raise a shield for the night meeting: her own Guards had no concerns about leaving them alone together, and there were considerably fewer ponies about under Moon. It left the wind free to move through their discussion, and both felt it shifting the fur which made up the surface level of their marks.

"Very well," Luna finally went on. "I examined her for magic myself and found nothing. I had thought somepony who was exceptionally cruel might have found a way to perform some variation of Want It-Need It on a living being, but there was not a single lingering thaum of such a working present."

Celestia winced: the spell had started as one of her least favorites and had gone even lower in her personal rankings after The Smarty Pants Incident. All of the Bearers had been suffering from at least a degree of post-traumatic stress following the recovery from Discord's inversions, she'd recognized that afterwards, she should have been watching all of them more closely... and once that one wondrous Nightmare Night had taken place, multiple visits from Luna to all of their nightscapes over the course of several weeks had been required before things had been truly put right. She'd just been so proud of them -- and that pride had blinded her to the warnings of memory. "Still inanimate objects only. Trying to install the resonance for desire and want into a pony so the luring emotions will radiate out... at most, the direct target feels them for a few seconds and nopony else gets anything."

"Good," Luna firmly said. The spell wasn't exactly high on her personal workings love list either. "My next thought was disease. We know it is not cutie pox -- she would have succumbed a long time ago. But it is the only thing I could remember which would force the constant practice of a talent. Perhaps -- a variant on the illness, where only a single false mark appears and the pony with the sickness is not made to perform to the point of death from exhaustion?"

"It's a true mark," Celestia answered. "I tested that when I was in her current quarters. It's not a bad idea to have a doctor examine her, though." Which is another potential rival...

...and she managed to push it back. "Having a talent active at all times, getting stronger -- that could easily be some kind of sickness. Let's just hope it's something from the outside and not -- in the blood." If it was somehow a previously unknown disease of heredity, then there was truly nothing which could be done. "But it's possible, Luna. I can't think of anypony whose talent is constantly active -- and given what cutie pox does, that makes it easy to assume disease." Forcing a small smile, "Even the Cakes don't bake all the time."

"They have a pair of foals," Luna dryly noted. "We can safely assume they have worked on a mix together at least once. Very well. We have no instant magical cures at our mutual disposal, no spells or potions to effect an immediate solution. I had pondered another possibility, but -- it is a dark one."

If she's talking about -- No, Luna would never go that far. "What's that?"

Starkly, "Exile. But not to isolation a second time -- to another of the nations. One without a real pony population, possibly excepting a few expatriates seeking new experiences, a different kind of companionship, or a final means of dodging both the searches of the law and their back taxes. It would largely be a life without true hope of romance -- you know how few marriages take place between different species, sister. That number was in single digits in the first nights and the numbers have scarcely risen since. I would hardly assume Joyous to be one of the few who would follow such a road in the first place. But ultimately, she could still make friends in such a nation. Have an occupation, a home outside a wild zone... It would be a hard life, away from all other ponies, adjusting to a culture not her own, devoid of all hopes for romance and knowing she could never come home. But there would be company. It would simply require a friendly nation and a few words from us to their immigration department. I can think of several places that might welcome her. I simply do not wish to lose --" hastily "-- to send her away from her own place and species -- but if there truly is no cure or help to be found, then at least a life among what would begin as strangers remains a life."

Celestia reluctantly nodded. "I'd hate to do it --" and too many reasons for that surged forward, all screaming for attention "-- but it might be the last hope. Keep it at the absolute bottom of the list."

"I will not," came the oddly calm reply.

"...because?" Because you're running away with her using this as your excuse?

"Because there is a test to be made yet. I am working under an assumption -- a decidedly foolish state at the best of times. My final resort assumes that her talent only works with ponies. No animals in her fringe came out to find her, not for reasons other than hunger. But the other intelligent races..."

Even to her own restless ears, Celestia's laugh sounded forced. "Luna! Remember what you said a few seconds ago? Guess how many griffon-pony marriages have been registered since Equestria was founded. Go ahead -- guess."

Luna shook her head. "A universal key, Tia. I know of at least three locks which sought opening in our mutual early years."

"All right," Celestia persisted, half-ignoring Luna's words, "some griffons and ponies date -- mostly in the school years, experimental phases for both -- but to have it last..."

"And if there are any who seek such a union," Luna went on, ignoring Celestia's attempt to dismiss the words, "then it means somewhere inside each of those species, the lock may lie in wait. Or perhaps her talent has simply strengthened to the point where it can overcome even that barrier."

Firmly, "You're being ridiculous."

"I am being rational. You do not write an equation down as a proof until it has been tested."

With increasing tension, "Fine. Then we'll test it."

"Good."

Open frustration. "Perfect."

"Tia?"

"What?"

"Are you upset because I am talking about sending her away? Adding more who might challenge for her affections? Or both?"

"You're being --"

"-- what position are your wings in at this moment?"

Celestia blinked. Glanced down her body length. Kept looking.

Luna went on, voice soft. "I continued to dream of her. You have yet to rest. But when you do... I suspect you will find her waiting in your nightscape, as you likely saw her during every quiet moment throughout the day. And I thought of her when I woke, and I am -- trying very hard not to see you as somepony -- in the way. We have to be careful, Tia. It may be a deliberate act to remain rational regarding her -- an act of will both of us must make again and again. You have dealt with this for longer than I, had centuries -- active -- where you were mastering your 'urges'. But at the same time -- there is more built up behind the barriers. We need to watch over each other, sister. But without overreacting. Without bringing our base desires into this. We must be rational beings -- and nothing more."

Slowly, carefully, Celestia forced her wings out of the challenge position. It seemed to take more strength than the prior reversion of her mane.

Faint wonder rode in the words of the elder. "How are you so calm?"

"I --" Luna blushed. "-- did have -- time alone."

Celestia couldn't even bring herself to tease. "Practical," was the best she could manage.

"Yes," was all she got in response.

"All right," Celestia made herself say. "Tomorrow, we'll find a doctor -- somewhere." And shoved back the thoughts of adding somepony else to a battle which shouldn't be allowed to exist. "But for now, I can test part of your equation. Let me go to Joyous --"

"-- we will both go."

Celestia glared at Luna -- then realized she was doing it, and her gaze softened just enough. "Let's both go to her -- and then we'll make an introduction."

"Oh?" (Celestia noted the light tension in the word.) "And just who is she meeting?"

"So that's your new envoy, huh?"

"Yes, Ambassador Power," said the elder sister.

"Nice mare. Kind of skittish, but that's okay. I was her first minotaur ever, right?"

"Correct," replied the younger.

"I get it. We're kind of hard to get used to. Most ponies pull back a little if they're seeing one of us for the first time. Two legs, the horns, hands... it's like we just walked out of one of your wild zones. I don't take it personally, Sunbutt. Once she's gotten to know me a little better, she'll treat me just like another pony. Same as you do."

Celestia silently counted the number of 'just another pony' she would have allowed to openly call her 'Sunbutt' as she did her best to ignore Luna's poorly-suppressed snicker. But Ambassador Power was much like all the other minotaur diplomats she'd hosted since the border between their nations had first opened: direct, straightforward, truthful about whatever he was feeling, and with no regard for any formal title other than the ones he granted. In her case... well, at least this one only used the assigned nickname in (relative) privacy. "It is about exposure, isn't it? I know that when I saw my first from your species..." A distant memory, a powerful one -- and more than a little embarrassing, even now: the one emotion which never seemed to fully fade. "...let's just say it's not quite the way we're talking now."

The ambassador grinned. "Yeah, I just bet. Anyway... one more thing about your envoy."

"Yes?" asked the younger.

"She doin' anything tonight?"

And from both siblings in perfect chorus, "...what?"

"Because I was just thinking... you know, most of the time when I visit you, I just get stuck in the castle. And then I go back to the embassy or head for home. Sometimes you and me walk around the gardens for a while when we're working things out, but I don't exactly get to enjoy Canterlot, and the rest of Equestria's pretty much a wash. So I was thinking that maybe if she's free, she could -- show me around town a little. A few night spots. Places with high ceilings. Nothing with tankards hanging down: these horns don't have their own eyes. And if the night goes well, maybe I could take her back to the embassy and let her really get used to minotaurs. And as long as you and me are talking -- that smell she gives off... that's some kind of perfume, right? Her favorite? If you could just tell me where to buy her a bottle..."

"Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes to go from 'Four legs equals who cares' into looking for a date." Celestia groaned. "I just barely got him out of the castle and he was still asking about her taste in flowers when I shoved him through the last door. He's going to come back tomorrow so we can work on the tariffs a little more and I'm betting he's going to walk in carrying the contents from half of Canterlot's flowershops: two tons of gift bouquets and ten servings of appetizers."

Luna's eyes squeezed shut. "I believe we are in trouble."

"You think?" The laugh was bitter. "So much for the last resort... maybe there's an immune race out there, but unless we run through every last embassy plus those who haven't applied for one yet and find a miracle in some dusty corner, I'm guessing we can't even send her out of the country. What's the next no-hope plan?"

"We have research we can still do," Luna reminded her. "The dusty corners we need to search first are those in the Canterlot Archives. There is still the doctor to consult. And beyond that -- I believe we may need to add one more to our forces."

"I'm not involving Twilight yet," Celestia insisted. "It hasn't gone that far --"

"-- no. Not your student: I will honor your wishes there for as long as I can. But in one aspect, we are arguably dealing with a trotting incarnation of lust. And whose magic might be better suited to deal with that than the pony who embodies the other face of the coin?"

"...Luna?"

"Yes?"

"Remember when you told me seeing Joyous by myself was a bad idea?"

A very dry "Rather clearly."

"What do you think is going to happen if we get Love and Lust in the same room?"

The verbal steadiness felt like a deliberate coating of ice over the heat of concern -- among other things. "I know of but one way to find out."

Celestia took a slow breath. "Under the one hoof, Luna -- I've been trying to leave her alone. The Empire needs to get used to the idea of their new ruler -- and that she is that ruler, by herself, without any influence or interference from us. Giving her initial solitude and a chance to try on her own reinforces that image. She needs a honeymoon period to establish herself, as much as any such thing could exist at all."

"And under one of the other hooves?" Luna inquired.

Three alicorns trying to stop one mark.

That was the best way to look at it -- and even that held too much in it, starting with the implications that she and Luna wouldn't be enough, the Archives would come up empty, the potential shadows of history would yield to neither sun nor moonlight, and the Diarchy ultimately could do nothing more than gallop for help. But towards the darker end of the scale...

Three alicorns fighting over one pony?

...one of their citizens needed help.

"Under another hoof..." Celestia sighed. "...the first truth of being a ruling Princess is that the honeymoon never even starts. I'll send the warning letter before I retire for the night." And had to deal with whatever would be waiting in her own nightscape. "But if we can't help Joyous through Archive-digging and the doctor can't diagnose and cure this -- we're heading to Cadance."

Justifying Censorship

In the dream, she is so very much smaller.

She is staring at the quasi-polished irregular piece of rock (not quite silver, not too far away from it either, a metal unseen for centuries) which serves as her mirror and wishing she could do something with her mane. With the room, which is overly weathered and shows the open signs of far too many repairs, several of them recent. It is confining and grey and dismal and she has to sleep on the floor because one of the more recent things to happen took out part of the side wall and swept their beds out with it: they'd been lucky not to have been within them at the time. For now, there is a pile of blankets in one corner which is hers. It smells like despair and the weight of just barely hanging on and like every pony who used them before her, which means it also smells just a little like death.

There is a second pile in another corner. That belongs to her sister. Lumps show the books poorly hidden underneath.

There are no splinters within the floor, which is one of the positive things to working with a base of bedrock. Light comes in through a pair of irregular openings which might have been rectangles once. Those are sealed when the chaos storms come and ponies huddle in the dark waiting to see if they will die -- with the survivors emerging to find out just who has.

There are no furnishings. There are barely any possessions. As a potential love nest, the only thing which has any hope of qualifying it at all is that for the moment, there is also a complete lack of sister -- she trots over to those blankets and pokes them with her front hooves, just in case -- plus her parents are --

(my father just)

-- not present at the moment. She could check the rest of the house, but

(my father just)

she doesn't want to. It's enough to believe nopony else is here right now. Just her and -- the one who's coming.

She so wishes she could do anything with her mane. Anything at all.

And then there is blue flashing in the scant light from the openings, reflecting off the stone.

She goes up to the pegasus, whinnying a little, shyly. Her visitor is somewhat shorter than she is (so many ponies are, but not all) and she bends her neck down to nuzzle, closes her eyes so she can just feel the snout which touches her face, followed by the brush of feathers against her sides. A pegasus. How does one even deal with the wings? Do they get in the way? Is there anything they might be used for other than flight? When they rest together after, their bodies pressed close, will she hurt her if she makes contact too tightly, or simply uses one as a pillow, drifting off in a contentment which has never been in this place, a comfort previously impossible to find. Something she hadn't believed could exist at all. But the pegasus is here, and they are touching. A slow rubbing between flanks continues the exploration of each other's bodies, and that feel of wings against her is so strange, so -- wondrous. So right. There is a light in this place where darkness so often reigns, a new kind of life where

(my father just)

simply hanging on is the most she'd thought could ever be hoped for, and that falsely.

They are touching. Somepony exists who will be with her in this exposed Tartarus, who will give her hope of more than merely seeing another day and night of life (especially when five of those periods are sometimes squeezed into the same hour), somepony who will stay.

She closes her eyes again, lets touch take over all, and marvels at the strangeness of being happy.

And then she hears the scream.

She opens her eyes. The pegasus (who is much smaller than her now, too much so) has flown backwards, hovers over the Solar marble, tears streaming down. The metallic coat is singed where it had touched her own. Scorched, with tiny wisps of smoke drifting from what had once been fur. The skin is blistered. Some of it is broken.

She cries out, tries to tell the pegasus it was an accident, she didn't mean to, she would never -- but there is fear in the other's eyes, and then that flash of blue is out the doorway and moving down the hall, reflections spreading slightly faster than the screams.

Chasing. She has to explain herself, she has to make it right. And the marble is discoloring under her pounding hooves because that's what heat does to that kind of stone: degrades it, converts it into something which is no longer marble and never can be again. Draperies begin to smoke as her spread wings brush against them. Flowers die. A retainer gasps, breaks out in a full body sweat which converts into froth a second later, then drops -- and his body begins to steam in the shimmering air.

She stops running. She has reached the outside. She is in one of the streets for the shopping district and doesn't know how she got here. And the stones are melting beneath her hooves.

Ponies are screaming. They are running from her, trying to escape the heat. But there is nowhere they can run, for Sun shines over all. More bodies are dropping. Some of them send up smoke when they fall. There are feathers on fire. There are horns threatening to crack. She flaps her wings, marshals her field, tries everything she can to shift the heat somewhere else, and there is a moment when it seems as if she might be succeeding -- but she is trying to displace the energy of Sun, and it will not stop coming. She is radiating more and more of the stuff, beyond her control, beyond any help or cure.

She is destroying Canterlot, and that will only be the beginning.

The Bearers rush towards her to try and help. She screams at them to stay back. They do not, for they care about her. And the Elements turn to liquid and burn through their coats. Then the trail of flame runs deeper. Kindness dies first. Her student is the last to perish, as the skull resists the heat from the molten crown for an extra second, and empty eye sockets stare at her with what had once been love.

There are buildings on fire now. Blackened pony skeletons crack and shatter as the heat reaches marrow. And she knows what will happen next. She will keep getting hotter. She will radiate Sun out to every last part of the world. Everything will feel her inner flame, and then everything will be that fire. The Princess of the Sun will reign over her true realm, a burning nightmare where no life can exist, where there is nothing but fire, no sign anything else ever could have been at all, and she will be here forever in a lake of molten stone, ruler of nothing, savior of none, murderer of all, and the voices will scream at her from the shadowlands throughout eternity as she weeps trails of lava across the liquid ruins of the world and wishes for some way to die --

-- there is a snowflake on her nose.

The sudden coolness startles her. She looks up.

The snow drifts down. Then it comes in sheets and waves. And where it falls, the fire goes out. It coats bones and forms ponies made of white -- and then the drifts convert back to flesh, and those ponies stand again before laughing and dropping back down to roll around in the snow, those with horns making snowballs, the ones with wings sending chill gusts to deflect, and those lacking both -- she hasn't seen that being done in --

-- where the snow falls, there is healing. There is laughter. There is life. And within that life, there is balance...

"I thought you would carry only her into the nightscape," says the pony at her side. "And I never would have disturbed you in that. But then I felt your scream, and I knew you had brought more than the idea of her presence along. The concept of a mark -- going out of control. The fear. When I felt that... I had to come." A long pause. "Regardless, I apologize for the invasion."

"Don't," she whispers. "If ever I needed... I didn't even realize it was --"

"-- the worst are the ones where you do not," her sister tells her. "Or sometimes -- when you remember that you are only living what was once again, and cannot stop or change it... but this is not that. And never will be. You forget that as much as you watch over me, Tia, my eyes are on you as well. What you saw will not and cannot happen, for I swear to stop it every time. We guard each other."

She presses tightly against the younger. She needs to know her sister is there. That she won't be left alone again. Drifting in solitude across an ocean of time with no shore in sight and nopony who remembers.

Her sister smiles up at her. Feathers mesh. "Shall I stay for a time?"

Don't leave me. Don't ever leave me again...

"Yes."

For the briefest of moments, her sister seems to be taller than she is. It feels like a strange thing. But it is also a dream, and so it is simultaneously natural and right.

And they play in the snow together as laughter rings throughout the land.

By the time Celestia forced herself out of bed, Sun had already been raised.

Everypony knew Celestia had taken over the duties for the Moon and kept the cycle of day and night going for a thousand years. Very few realized Luna was just as capable of manipulating Sun. But in the days since the Return, things had returned to the old system: one could only handle the other's domain when permission was openly granted. And doing so wasn't a pleasant experience: they had to force their magics to deal with opposite and opposing, although at least that wasn't the former nightmare of Other. Every Moon raising and lowering during abeyance had been like shoving a spear of ice into her own heart -- and that was before the forever-feeling of loss came into it. She didn't want to imagine what Sun-handling was like for Luna. But her sister had seen how badly Celestia had needed true rest: the offer had been made -- and accepted.

Luna had also performed what for the younger was a fairly basic working -- a casting exclusive to the nightscape and one she was generally reluctant to do at all. The idea of losing control had been locked into day -- at least for a little while. Luna preferred for ponies to confront their fears and banish them from the nightscape of their own (sometimes-assisted) accord, but there were simply times when things had to be put on hold for a while, and a Celestia coming off several consecutive nights without effective sleep would be no good for anypony. There was a chance that their talk had dealt with the issue -- but the only way to find out was to remove the cage, and that was a risk Celestia couldn't afford to take until the problem had been solved.

Not that she'd still had much in the way of helpful rest. Once Luna had left to resume what remained of her duties, Joyous had returned and... well, 'rest' had been no part of that. Plus confining the fear to the waking world wasn't proving to be much of a help.

What if it is a disease? Something contagious? When did she first catch it? How many ponies has she been in contact with since then? Her parents took her all over Equestria, and that's just what I know of. She could be a flying plague vector. And if I have it -- if Luna has it...

No. She was letting the fear take over. Joyous had been all over Equestria, had been in multiple settled zones -- and was still the only pony Celestia had ever heard of who'd had a talent go out of control like this. If there was a disease responsible, Joyous wasn't spreading it.

Unless it had an onset time of several years.

Celestia forced herself to take a slow breath. Her reluctance to add a physician to the pack was somewhat less than it had been the night before -- and it said something about the effect Joyous was having on her that any tiny fraction remained at all.

Shower. I need a shower. Or a bath. Or anything which means I won't smell like everything which happened in my nightscape, even if I'm only imagining half of it and the rest is night sweats and -- everything else. And I'm not going back to that lake again right now.

Smell...

How was Joyous doing in her quarters? Had anypony brought her breakfast yet? Only the sisters even knew she was in there. So either it had been Luna delivering the food or nopony would have done it. Really, Celestia had an obligation to go check on the pegasus. The fact that Luna was surely asleep by now and in no position to interfere in any way had nothing to do with it. This was just making sure Joyous was fed. And comfortable. Along with seeing if she needed any comforting. Surely she would need reminding that they were working on things, that the combined forces of two (three?) Princesses would be enough to make her life right and upon hearing that, she would be so happy that --

"Princess! Princess!" Hooves were pounding on her bedroom door. "Princess, we've got a problem!"

The fantasy shattered under the impact of what sounded like rather ill-fitted shoes. "Is it a problem that can wait until after I wash up?" Because there was no way she could afford to go into the central castle in her current state, not without something considerably beyond the normal level of what some ponies insisted on seeing as emergency pressing against her half-tangible tail.

The very awkward pause stayed on the other side of the door. The words, which had considerably less regard for her privacy, insisted on blundering on through. "Um... that depends."

"Depends on what?"

"On -- whether you want war with Mazein?"

Celestia didn't believe in diplomatic immunity. Or rather, she did -- and what she believed about it was that the concept, at least as it had originally been explained to her by the Griffon Republic, was stupid. Another nation would send someone into her lands and that entity could not be charged with any crime. The Republic had told her it was meant to prevent her from making false accusations against anyone they placed in an ambassador's role. Which, as cover excuses went, really didn't work all that well. It was actually meant to let their ambassador do whatever she desired to anypony she wanted to inflict it in on with total safety and the assurance that at most, Celestia could send her back over the border so that the Republic could replace that ambassador with someone who would just do it all over again, only this time in full public view. It had been ridiculous and she'd refused immediately on not just general principle, but basic intelligence. The Republic had huffily insisted that if she didn't adopt their definition, then there was no reason for them not to be looking into whatever imaginary offenses they were about to decide those in the new Equestrian embassy had just committed. She had given them a very basic reason: Because You Will Make Me Very Angry. And most of the time, that sufficed.

So for Celestia, diplomatic immunity typically meant total freedom of speech -- the same as anypony in Equestria had. An ambassador could say anything to her and she would listen to it. If it was offensive -- well, with some of the nations, it wouldn't be a surprise. If it was overtly aggressive, that was fine. And should anyone be enough of an idiot to openly declare war right in front of her -- again -- well, they were right in front of her and the cells were downstairs. Throw in her ability to alert one of her own embassies within seconds along with some well-designed (and sadly, previously-tested) evacuation plans and the channels of international communication remained about as open as they always did, accompanied by a constant background chorus of we're all going to be civil with each other because you should remember what happens when we aren't. And should a crime be committed by an ambassador, she had the right to prosecute -- after a third, neutral nation had sent in its own investigation team and determined that the offense had actually occurred, which was the system those countries hosting her own embassies were now using. It had done a lot over the centuries to slowly encourage a more self-controlled breed of ambassador, or at least one intelligent enough to let their spies do most of the work.

But she still tried to avoid having too many ambassadors dragged into Canterlot's police stations, much less having them brought down by the Guards. Sometimes what seemed to be a crime was just a cultural misunderstanding. Zebra shopkeepers tended to leave a basket of free food samples for browsers to snack on while they made their selection, and that included those whose product was edible -- which, upon arrival in Equestria, often led to accusations of shoplifting through grazing. Griffons tended towards almost casual displays of aggression in order to work out the local dominance chain: once they determined exactly where everypony around them ranked and their own place within that system, things settled down -- but the way those initial sorting attempts could come across... And minotaurs were the most happily physical of the sapient races and believed that a good hard clap on the back was a perfect expression of casual welcome: startled ponies could find themselves three blocks away before the most skittish started to form the word assault in their terrified minds.

Celestia paid careful attention to the cultures which had set up little parcels of land in the capital. Warned her law enforcement personnel as to what was a true attempt at criminal activity, as opposed to the things which could just be taken the wrong way. And whenever possible, she tried to forgive just a little more with those visitors to her country, because they were far from home and didn't always completely understand the ponies around them. Some of them truly meant no harm. The rest were quickly identified, and she had wound up escorting a few back to the border herself. Several had been teleported across it. Others had been kicked.

But now...

...she emerged from the between at the far end of the Hall Of Legends. Ambassador Power had managed to fight his way down to Discord's original portrait -- and that had been with him battling against the efforts of her Guards the whole way in. Guards who were admittedly holding back somewhat: from what she could see of their expressions, several were confused, anxious, and openly worried. They didn't want to hurt the ambassador: they were still trying to reason with him. The minotaur had been coming to the castle for nearly two decades now, understood ponies as well as any of his kin ever had, enjoyed a good laugh with some of the Solar staff and bought the first round at the bar after every successful negotiation. Her little ponies liked the big bull, and that friendship was precious to her --

-- but at the moment, it was also sort of getting in the way.

"I want to see her!" Ambassador Power roared, and surged forward another step. It was amazing, really, how well he was moving at all with a full rainbow and beyond of fields encircling his limbs. (The unicorns among the eight battling Guards were being careful about their tactics: loops of restraint instead of full-body coatings, as only the former truly allowed multiple pulls on the same limb.) An extra layer of astonishment was added when Celestia realized he was doing it while carrying what had to be at least a hundred pounds worth' of flower arrangements, which included extremely careful attempts to shield them from being disturbed by his efforts to escape. "She's in here somewhere -- she's a new envoy, she hasn't been dispatched yet! One of you knows where she is! Unless you're trying to keep her for yourselves!"

"Sir!" Glint gasped out as his corona went double, froth starting to appear within the visible portions of his coat, "We don't know -- who you're talking about! There aren't any metallic pegasi working in the castle -- Solar or Lunar shifts! We'd remember!"

Tulips, he's carrying tulips, where did he get those? I thought I had all the suppliers closed down! I have to get this under control before anypony else sees them, not to mention getting a really clear look at me --

-- the huge muscles along the minotaur's left arm seemed to pulse. "You're lying! I just want to see her! I want to tell her she was in my dreams last night! If I can just -- if you just let me --"

He exerted himself. Two of the fields winked out as the strain provided too much for those grips.

His arm swung -- and Glint was too close, her Guard hadn't backed off after taking the magical exertion to a higher level, the minotaur's arm was coming right at the horn and the corona hadn't dropped down yet --

-- and then Glimmerglow swooped in, took the blow across her flank armor, was sent backwards five body lengths into an old rock crystal portrait, one which showed the opening of the west coast. It cracked. The armor held, and the pegasus slid down the wall, just barely conscious.

Celestia went between. Came out a body length away from the ambassador. "Let go of him!" she called out to her Guards, and they responded to their training, released their fields without question, gave them space.

The reddened eyes focused on her as the minotaur staggered forward. "You know where she is!" he declared, and there was no rage in it, not towards her -- not yet. "You introduced us! You can take me --"

Which was her idea exactly.

Celestia charged. Her shoulder made contact --

-- and they came out of the between at the very border of Trotter's Falls. At the lake. Or rather, some distance directly above it.

Celestia spread her wings, started the hover just in time. The minotaur, lacking the necessary appendages, simply fell.

She moved back in time to avoid most of the splash.

After a count of twenty, he surfaced. Most of the flowers had beaten him to it.

"C-c-c-c..." he stuttered. "C-c-cold! Horns Of The Ancients, Sunbutt, that is the coldest water I've ever touched in my life! Where are we? Where's -- where's Joyous? Is this..."

He trailed off. Blinked a few times, looked at the flowers floating around him. Treaded water as he returned his gaze to focusing up, saw the sorrow in Celestia's eyes.

"What -- what was I doing?"

"Nothing that was your fault," she sighed. Double corona -- Glint had been a hoofstep away from torn muscles or worse, and if Glimmerglow's armor hadn't taken enough of the impact...

...but it wasn't his fault. Minotaur courtships and wrestling matches were basically the same thing. Intergender combat sports were their idea of club hookups. You were supposed to fight your way to the one you loved: it was how you showed your devotion at all. In the ambassador's mind, he'd been doing nothing more than proving himself -- and on that level, he'd done an incredible job of it. "And nothing I'm going to press charges for," Celestia wearily said. "Swim over to the shore -- I'll wait for you."

She flew to the edge of the pebbles, arranged her body in a position of total (false) peace. The minotaur, still looking dazed, swam over, got out of the water, sat down by her side. Looked her over.

"What happened to you?" he asked, and the gruff words were surprisingly gentle. "If you had normal hair, I'm betting it would look as rough as your coat does right now. And you smell like..."

"I'm fine."

"You're as fine as I am," Ambassador Power told her. "And I think -- I think I lost it back there. No, ignore that -- I know I did. And -- I'm still thinking -- about going back there and..." A deep breath. "Celestia, is this magic? Did somepony get in my head? I'm trusting that it wasn't you, but somepony else --"

"-- somepony else," she said. An experiment. Luna, what are we doing...? "Ambassador -- Torque -- we've known each other a long time now. And that you trust me not to have been the one who did that to you -- it means a lot. It means I truly do have your trust, and that's precious to me. But I need you to have even more than that now. I need you -- to have faith in me. And in a few minutes --"

She took a deep breath. And I have to check on the wounded, see how bad it is. Then I need to say something to the Guards. Keep the word from spreading back to his embassy. And then we have to deal with the problem, every level of it, how are we going to fix it...

The rumors could already be flying. All the way back to the embassy. And beyond.

"-- I'll be able to talk to you," she finished. "Torque, I have to head back. I have to check on my Guards and keep word of this from getting outside the castle. A few orders from me will stop things. Do you trust me to return?"

He slowly nodded. Drops of water fell from the horns.

Celestia tried to smile, couldn't quite make it.

And in a few minutes, I'm going to hope you don't end up hating me.

She told him everything. And when it was over, he took the deepest breath she'd ever seen on anything his size, the huge chest expanding as muscles shifted in all directions -- then let the entire thing emerge as a single slow sigh.

"That poor kid," he said, briefly closing his eyes. "What a life. What a total lack of life... Sunbutt, I don't know a lot about your marks, not past what everybody knows -- but I've never heard of anything which would change or stop them. Does she have any chance?"

It was the response she'd been hoping for, the one she would have expected from this bull -- and yet it was still a little hard to believe. "I was half-expecting you to yell at me," she told him. "A lot."

"I'm thinking about it," he admitted. "On the one hand, I don't exactly appreciate being the subject for your sister's experiment. On the other -- you had to test her with someone. And I was the most different person around -- the one least likely to be affected. I wouldn't have gone with the zebras: too close... So what are her chances?"

"We're working on the problem," she honestly said. "But this is something which has never happened before -- and yes, I know what it means to have me saying that, Torque. We don't have an instant answer: if we did, it never would have reached the point of having her meet you. We were hoping sending her away would be a last chance if all else failed -- but now we know she can't live among your people, and it's possible that every intelligent species in the world might react the same way. I don't even want to think about what would happen if she stumbled onto a flight of teenage dragons..."

Torque winced. "Yeah, better try to avoid that," he responded, and the words were the driest thing about him. "Look -- Celestia, you trust me. More than a little, or you wouldn't have said all that to me. I believe you, okay? I know you didn't do it on purpose and you never thought it would happen at all. And this isn't going any farther than me. But now I need you to trust me even more, because I'm gonna say some stuff you won't want to hear -- and I need you to take all of it seriously."

Celestia blinked. "Torque, if there's anything else I can do to apologize --"

"-- oh, we're gonna have some fun tariff talks later," he cut her off. "But this isn't about that. You know me. I say what I'm thinking. Just because it doesn't come out dressed up in fancy suits doesn't mean it isn't the truth. I don't lie to you and you've always returned the courtesy. I appreciate that. A lot of ponies can't handle blunt. It's easier for them to lie in fifteen syllables than be honest in four. So here's my four: she's a weapon."

Two blinks this time -- and then Celestia's eyes closed. She didn't want to see it -- and the desire didn't keep the images from appearing.

"Nothing wrong with being sexy," Torque said. She heard him leaning back slightly, bracing his hands against the little stones. "I wouldn't have met my wife without that sexy. Wouldn't have gotten the years we had together without that one good headlock... never wrapped a neck that well before or since. But what Joyous does... you could drop her in the middle of a room, any place where a bunch of ponies or anything else is arguing about you. And then they're arguing about something else. Somepony else. They were thinking about going after you with a vote or a twisted bill or one of those stupid articles or anything else -- but now they're thinking about her. And it's all they think about until they tear each other apart fighting to see who reaches her first. My people figured out to go until first yell or handsign. Took us a while -- but we got there. Yours don't have that -- and if they did, she'd break it just by showing up. Maybe they'll kill each other over who gets to touch her -- and what happens to her when the survivor closes in?"

Her imagination refused to listen to any begging. Hers or that of the vision of Joyous.

"I trust you," Torque told her. "I trust you more than some of mine think I should. So I'm gonna forgive you this one, because it wasn't your fault or hers. I'm a little bit pissed with your sister, but that'll wear off. And I know you're working on this -- that you'll give it everything you have. But now I'm gonna throw this in: you'd better. Pull out every last stop, Sunbutt. Go to places you've never been, reach for magic you'd never thought of. Hit the last resort and if that fails, head for the one after that. Because if you don't get her fixed -- then I know what this does. What it could look like if you dropped her somewhere. And part of me knows you would never do that -- but there's also a bit which sort of thinks you can't keep control of a country for as long as you have without having that little piece that's bottom-line practical. The pragmatist. The voice in your head that says 'If this is needed to survive, then let it be done'. You would never use her that way. You'll do anything not to. You'll twist yourself into a spiral dodging it. But if there's no other way out -- if you had no choice but her..."

Starkly, "I won't."

"You're right," Torque said, and any comfort from those words was taken away by the sentences which followed. "You won't -- because you care too much about Joyous to sacrifice her like that. And that's without her talent figured in: it's just her as one of your citizens. As a pony. You manipulate sometimes, I know that. We all do in this job -- but you've got a hard time with sacrifice, with putting somepony in a situation where they're sure to get hurt or -- worse. Your sister's even more practical: haven't had much time with her, but what we've gotten together was more than enough to spot it. But she wouldn't put somepony through that either. Both of you care about your ponies. Makes you strong in some ways, vulnerable in others. You won't, and she won't -- but what about the Courts? Independent parties? Anypony stupid enough to be going for a coup? One of the other countries searching for just the right way of getting a foothold for that first strike?"

He stood up. More water dripped down.

"She's a weapon, Celestia," Torque told her. "Either figure out how to make and distribute the shields or take the edge off her. I'm not talking -- but eventually, someone or somepony will find out. And once that thought hits the wrong mind, things are going to get a lot worse. Take me back, keep me updated, and fix her. Because if you don't..."

...then someone or somepony will try to use her.

It had started as one young metallic pegasus mare with a unique mark and problem.

Then it had moved into the Solar and Lunar wings.

Now it had surged beyond the castle.

And if anypony -- or anyone -- became afraid it might shift into their own minds, take their thoughts away...

Or move to stop her from being used at all.

Unresolved Sexual Tension

They hammered out The Joyous Rules together.

Celestia had returned in time to keep her confused Guards from (as far as she knew) spreading stories of what had happened outside the castle walls: in fact, she'd managed to get back before medical help had removed Glimmerglow from the Hall Of Legends. So to the best of her knowledge -- and she was dearly hoping she had the complete picture -- news of the incident with Torque hadn't reached the public. Or worse, the press. But the only true test for either would be time --

-- and she needed that time to seal any other potential leaks.

She woke Luna, explained what had happened. And between them, they composed the full procedure list.

1. Everypony involved must be sworn to secrecy.

And that meant everypony. Her own Guards took the oath immediately, were more than willing to believe her when she told them Ambassador Power had not been at fault, there was something else going on and they had to trust her when she said they were not to look into it, letting her handle everything -- but she had the benefit of knowing exactly where their loyalties were. With other ponies...

And that led directly into the next directive.

2. Involve as few ponies as possible. Research everypony who might become part of this, then keep watch on all the ones who are.

They couldn't afford to let anypony in the so-called Loyal Opposition know about this -- not unless it was truly their last resort. (The sheer total of 'last resorts' was beginning to become overwhelming all by itself.) There was too strong a chance of such a pony going to the press no matter what the signed papers had dictated -- and while that was a chance Celestia would take if it was the only true means of saving Joyous, a failed attempt would break the story while there was still something active to report. Accusations of kidnapping, the palace holding a pony hostage to a pair of twisted desires, Murdocks' gossip pages spreading out to take over the ten percent of the newspaper they didn't already have -- and then, with the news out there, everything Torque had led Celestia's imagination into seeing would be threatening eruption into reality. Everypony they might consult had to be evaluated and understood on a level equivalent to ponies Celestia had known for their entire lives: anything else was taking too great a risk.

Which reminded Luna that there were other ponies already involved -- starting with her own Guards. Cluster was brought in, all of the Guards who had allowed Joyous into a singular Open Palace meeting -- everypony whom Joyous was known to have come into contact with was hauled into the castle, where the sisters mutually apologized for the disruption of their sleep schedule before Luna, who had been rehearsing the words while everypony was rounded up, brought out careful ways of asking just what had been found within what sleep might have come. All the answers were... expected. Redundant. 'Depressing' turned out to be automatic.

The researchers Luna had sent into the Archives: they needed to be formally sworn into what was rapidly reaching the status of a formal conspiracy. Those Celestia had used to cover the day shift were added to the numbers before the two crews were introduced to each other and told to start comparing notes.

Eventually, the castle personnel were covered -- but that still left holes. How many ponies had Joyous passed in the night on her way into the session? Had there been members of the Lunar staff wandering down exactly the right hall at precisely the wrong moment? What about Canterlot? Joyous had said she'd stayed in the air as much as possible, avoided the paths and made her own route to Canterlot from fear of meeting ponies along any of the standard routes, and that had been a help. But she'd landed in the city to scavenge food before heading to the Lunar session. She had done so several times, because she hadn't arrived in Canterlot on the night of the Open Palace and had needed to find ways of lasting out the waiting period. Had there been other ponies around when she'd touched down, beyond her sight? Had her hiding place in the clouds outside the city been passed by any pegasi? There was no way to know. All the Princesses could do was take some of their Guards into a higher level of confidence and tell them to be on the lookout for ponies whose behavior had turned obsessive -- and those Guards would need to say something to the city's police...

Keeping the secret meant spreading the secret. How far could they push it before it broke loose?

3. Ideally, the ponies who deal with Joyous should be --

-- and they'd run into a block on that one. 'Aged' didn't work: ponies generally didn't lose their full desire for physical contact as the years advanced. 'In possession of the world's most minimal sex drive' was no help: Joyous could potentially fan any ember into a conflagration. 'Asexual' was a term barely understood and, with ponies, hardly ever recognized -- plus they knew normal attractions were overridden in the presence of the pegasus, and that might easily include changing what had been a desire for nopony at all. Going for the few who only found their dreams satisfied by the members of the other intelligent races -- the same problem. And the more they narrowed the requirements, the more they potentially could eliminate anypony who might have been able to help at all. At one point, a sleep-deprived Luna had sarcastically proposed that they go with a single rule only: everypony brought in from that point on had to reside in the shadowlands. It had been followed by twenty seconds of mutual silent horror as they'd both formed images of what might happen if that barrier fell before Joyous.

Once the dual shivering had stopped, they'd revised the whole rule.

3. Everypony who meets her directly must be fully briefed on what she can do.

If they knew the attraction was being imposed from the outside -- that it was, in a sense, artificial -- if they knew it was coming at all...

...well, at least they wouldn't fall into the trap of thinking it was simply love (or lust) at first sight.

Initially.

And it all added up to the final rule:

4. Prepare an answer for the worst-case scenario.

Which begged the question of what that was.

The press learning about Joyous? Her falling into despair and fleeing, coming into contact with hundreds of ponies during her escape? Another nation trying to kidnap her? Coup attempts using her as that primary weapon? Fear-filled assaults aiming to keep her from ever being used? Everything the sisters thought of as 'worst' only led to another 'worst' beyond that -- and then another, followed by one extra, which then invited friends who took over the castle before razing both wings. The sisters laid out plans for everything they could think of -- then wondered if they'd thought of everything, and knew doing so was impossible.

Later, Celestia realized their actions had been very much like those for quarantining the bearer of a contagious fatal disease.

The second rule cost them two days.

Celestia hadn't kept a Royal Physician on staff for centuries. Her own health was... well, it was strong, but it wasn't perfect. She caught colds now and again, went through bouts with the flu two or three times a century (generally shivers and cold sweats: fevers never touched her), and had certainly taken her share of casual hurts, strains, and aches, with a number of backlashes thrown in. And when any of those had brought her to a point where there was no other answer available, she'd reluctantly trotted to a doctor for help. Doctors who, no matter how many dark looks and non-veiled statements and outright orders she gave them, could never completely stop seeing her presence as their chance to be the first pony who would unravel the mysteries of the alicorn body. For Celestia to check herself in with a sore throat was to inevitably wind up verbally (and twice, physically followed by magically) fighting off inspections of horn and wings while amateur thaumaturgy students tried to figure out how a single field could channel both pegasus and unicorn magics -- and then there were bombardments of questions about her metabolism, the internal clock which some ponies had deduced the existence of, any potential alterations to her skeletal structure which allowed her body to bear her total mass without strain, expressions of desires to get a look...

Keeping a personal physician on the castle payroll had felt like giving somepony an open offer to try sneaking into her bedroom and attempt the fresh stealing of blood and fur samples every week. For starters.

So two days passed while both Solar and Lunar staffs searched for doctors who could be brought into the group -- two days which the sisters used to sort through the Canterlot Archives in search of anything which would avoid it. And the joined powers of Day and Night, well over a millennium of combined knowledge and experience, working with the largest collection of information in Equestria...

...came up with nothing.

As far as they could discover, Joyous' mark was unique. As for her talent -- there had been ponies whose sex appeal had been legend: stories about them had made it into the Archives, although there was some trouble in sorting historical record from fantasies which the authors had been trying to pass off as such (and neither category was exactly helpful reading material for two sisters whose nightscapes were still featuring repeated flashes of reflected light off a certain metallic coat). But none of those ponies had that appeal as their actual recorded talent. (Luna's staff uncovered accounts of two ponies whose mark-backed skill seemed to have been the act itself -- in the fiction section. Typically, the characters had only been interested in each other and the plot had suffered accordingly, at least for what little existed. It hadn't affected the dialogue, mostly because once you took out the moans which no pony throat was capable of producing in that kind of consecutive forty-second vowel string, there really hadn't been any.) Either the Archives had failed to record any instance of the talent manifesting -- or it had appeared for the first time within a pegasus who had reached the point of seeing blasphemy as her last hope.

New means of stopping marks... again, only in the fertile imagination of storytellers. There had been some faint hopes of a tale being based on an actual event and research had been done into anything which claimed a historical setting or to have been 'based on a true story' -- but in the end, every last crop of verbiage had sprung up from fields of horse apples. (The Daring Do cycle had two instances of its own, although the second had come about because the means used to halt the first had worn off.) And nothing discussed the issues of a talent strengthened beyond its owner's control, not even the most tail-curling of horror stories. The concept had simply refused to appear in any writer's mind. In a way, it was something no pony could imagine happening -- and so no pony had until Joyous experienced it, with her pain conveying the idea to Celestia and Luna, followed by them bringing it to the attention of their assistants. And once the concept had been unleashed, it had inevitably found its way into multiple nightscapes. Luna's duties had included several emergency visits to those on both staffs: simple talents for organization created worlds in which nothing spontaneous ever happened, researchers found nothing left to learn, and specialists in magical theory watched their experiments destroy everypony they'd ever loved.

For the portion of history which Celestia had overseen, they found nothing. For that which had come before the Diarchy... most of that had been lost: Discord hadn't been one for the keeping for records and destruction of the oldest accounts might not have been deliberate, but it had been casual. They had stories, legends, and a few surviving documents which probably hadn't been forged. Peer through the fog to find more fog beyond, wander deep within and become lost.

Two days during which the Archives provided no help. A pair of cycles where the few researchers they'd trusted came up with no theories worth chasing. Time that found the Princesses going back to Joyous, delivering food, trying to assure her that they were working on the problem while in no way revealing just how much of a problem it was turning out to be. Not telling her about all the extra issues which could become realities at any moment. About the threat she might pose to Equestria and the lands beyond. The risks which seemed to increase with every passing day, the chance of slippage and revelation going up with every pony brought in.

They tried to supervise each other during those visits, but mostly when one sibling realized the other was gone and figured out where. One sometimes arrived bearing a meal only to find the other had beaten her to it by several minutes, which was especially interesting to Celestia when one of those junctures turned out to be lunch -- a chance meeting which required Luna to be awake at noon. The food itself was becoming increasingly exotic and elaborate.

Books had been replaced in the semi-cell. Furniture had been updated. Luna had run through eight different beds in the course of two hours, with square acreage of mattress as her apparent primary consideration.

And Joyous was -- hopeful. Alive with that hope, because there were two Princesses working on the problem and surely nothing under Sun or Moon could stand up to such a combined assault...

At one point, Celestia had gone to Joyous at a moment when she was convinced her urges would be at their lowest, having worked through water and ice and -- other measures -- with a single intent: to try and perceive the pegasus as she truly was. Perhaps it was only the talent that rendered her beautiful, clouded minds and made them believe in a vision worth drinking in over a lifetime. And to that end, she'd brought a camera, because her mind could be fooled by such a trick -- but the film wouldn't be. Even if the illusion persisted and made her see something which wasn't there in the captured image, showing the picture to a pony who'd never been near Joyous would reveal the truth.

Celestia had taken the picture, somehow forced herself to leave immediately, and then personally developed the film before taking it to an artist she trusted, one who was capable of rendering the image into a painting at speed -- especially in the wake of a Royal Commission to do so. Eight hours later, she'd gone back to pick up the result. And in doing so, had made a discovery.

The pegasus was more beautiful than she'd been at their first meeting.

Oh, there was no magic involved: Joyous wasn't changing to reflect Celestia's tastes -- and magic-created physical alterations beyond the most minor cosmetic ones to coat and mane were matters best not thought about, lest the echoes of long-ago screams intrude on present hearing. But the young mare had been surviving in the fringe for several years. Her diet had consisted of whatever she could find within added to occasional scavengings from the city plus far too much grass and the bare survival it just barely provided. Add the slow-drip wearing down of endless stress from knowing what her talent had done to her life, the means she had tried to rid herself of it, just being in the fringe... it all added up. Celestia, looking at the transferred portrait, forced herself to think -- and realized that on the first day, the pegasus had been on the thin side. The glint from the coat had been as uneven as the fur itself. The mane hadn't been formally taken care of since the exile had begun. Her hooves had shown some chipping and the lack of proper nutrition was also reflected in faded feathers. The pegasus who had come to Luna that night had shown all the signs of the pain she'd brought with her: body, voice, eyes, and soul.

And now some of that burden was beginning to lift.

She was eating properly, if rather exotically and at expense levels normally only seen in full banquets for visiting royalty. She had enjoyed her first hot bath in years, then had two more just for the renewed joy of it. She was -- taking care of herself, because there was a sudden hope for a life singing in her heart and surely it couldn't hurt to prepare for that life, just a little? So feathers had been preened. She'd styled her mane. The metallic coat was clean and brushed and heading back towards its true shine.

Joyous was a natural beauty, one on Fluttershy's level, with the rarity of being a metallic added to that. The fringe, the fear, her talent had worn her down -- but now the living art was being restored. It was still a work in progress. But when she truly reached her peak...

...and if her magic had somehow been weaker because of that barely-existence, if that came to its full potential...

Joyous had accepted the photography. After all, Celestia was doing it, so it might be something which would help. She had smiled for the camera. Smiled for the first time since coming to the castle.

She had hope.

And it made her beautiful.

Celestia had stared at the portrait for a full five minutes. It had taken her that long to completely suppress the need to weep.

It had taken two days for the combined forces of the Lunar and Solar staffs to select a doctor -- or, as it ultimately turned out, two, as what turned out to be their best possibility only worked as a team. And their staffs had selected those practitioners using a rigorous set of standards. They had to be completely loyal to the Diarchy. They needed to understand that the secret could not be allowed to spread. Compassion, intelligence, insight, intuition, the ability to see 'pony' instead of just 'patient' or worse, 'interesting case study' -- all were crucial and the ponies who had presented the names to Luna and Celestia as their final selection had assured them that every last quality was possessed in abundance..

It took very little time for Luna to realize that they should have added one additional requirement.

"So... um... we finished examining her..." began the smaller of the two unicorn stallions, the skinny one with the pale white coat (and wearing a light blue garment with many pockets all over it), brown eyes, and -- that mane. A mane which Luna's nose told her was filled with every mane enhancement product known to ponies plus a few which might have been home-brewed, a mane which stood straight up in defiance of physics, common sense, and taste. It was black. It was glossy. It was slightly curly. It had volume, mass, weight, and possibly gravity. There was every chance it had graduated medical school before its owner through having taken better notes, although it would have been hard-pressed to beat out the tail which qualified for its own entry in the census.

"And we were very careful!" rushed the larger. This one was an exceptionally rich, almost gleaming brown (mostly covered by a garment which was an odd shade of green), muscular for a unicorn, with eyes to match his coat and a soft black tail. As for the mane -- he didn't have one, and it was a deliberate choice. Very few ponies shaved their manes, but the non-fashion was most often found in surgeons. The hair of a mane did not block a field: it was one of the few things which presented no barrier at all to the initial projection of unicorn magic. But unicorn surgeons, whose control had to be especially refined, were prone to think things like maybe it only blocks about a thousandth of a percent for anypony, but I'm going to need that -- so some of them shaved their manes away. This stallion was one of them, although Luna wasn't sure that was his full justification for the act. There was every chance he might have just looked at his partner's display and decided his only reasonable choice in life was to personally go as far away from it as possible in the exact opposite direction.

"We didn't do anything inappropriate, Princess!" the smaller assured her -- then looked at Celestia. "And Princess! -- Princesses? Princessi?"

"'Princesses' will suffice for mutual address," Celestia told him --

-- and was ignored. "Nothing happened!" the larger insisted. "I kept an eye on him the whole time!"

"What do you mean, you kept an eye on me?" the smaller verbally jumped in. "I watched you!"

"Did you really think I was going to let you have any time alone with that mare?"

"I just wanted you to get an instrument!"

"A cup of wake-up juice is not an instrument!"

Luna looked at the diplomas hung on the walls. They seemed to be legitimate.

"We had to test her reaction to stimulants, didn't we?"

"And why would we ever have to do that?"

"So we can compare it to the results when we try something opposite later!"

"Oh, and I suppose you think you're so special because your big diagnostician brain thought of that?"

"At least I didn't need to cut anything open to come up with it!"

Surely her staff would have looked into whether the medical school actually existed.

"That wasn't cutting! I took some fur, mane, feather, blood, and saliva samples! You said you needed those to work with!"

"And do you know how close you were when you did it?"

"Am I supposed to be on the other side of the room when I'm collecting?"

"You're a unicorn! So -- yes!"

"You're a unicorn too!"

"What's your point?"

Or perhaps it had largely been the Solar staff...

"You're acting neurotic! You were waving empty vials in the air and jamming stoppers on them!"

"It's the Princesses! Of course I'm acting neurotic! Because this is making me neurotic! I am neurotic! Almost as neurotic as you! I'm just the pony who's willing to admit it! And I was just trying to get a sample of her smell!"

Luna forced herself to take a very slow breath. They'd teleported Joyous back to the castle immediately after the examination, in the name of limiting exposure. It seemed to be having a beneficial side effect, mostly in that whatever hope the pegasus was truly beginning to possess surely would have fled at the realization that her fate was now potentially in the hooves of these two. "Doctor Bear --"

"-- yes?" A chorus from both.

Of course. Luna tried again. "Doctor Vanilla Bear -- are the samples truly necessary?"

"Absolutely," the physician failed to reassure her. "You'd be amazed how often we pick up things just from taking them. In fact, you might be amazed that the single most frequent weapon in our arsenal is the collection of --"

"-- oh, not this again," Doctor Chocolate Bear groaned. "If you start singing..."

The thinner stallion's voice dropped a little, which made him sound very slightly less like a mare. "Are you criticizing my singing?"

"It's a song about horse apples."

"Because everything comes down to horse apples! Isn't that worthy of a song or two?"

"It's not even worth a stanza. Or in your case, a standza-there-and-let-me-do-all-the-vocal-workza!"

"How does that even make sense? All you did was za twice! You didn't even shizzle!"

"It doesn't! Just like your song! Everything does not come down to horse apples! And now we're saying 'horse apples' in front of the Princess! Princesses! I just said it two more times! We keep talking about horse apples -- look what you're making me do! There's probably a jail sentence for this! There could even be a forced diet!"

Celestia blinked. This helped nothing, which incidentally meant 'shizzle' remained undefined.

"Okay!" Vanilla Bear yelled, his field (the color of which matched his garment) throwing a clipboard into the air in frustration. "Everything does not come down to horse apples! Except when it does! Are you happy now?"

Chocolate Bear caught the clipboard in his own field (which matched his own covering in hue) and tossed it back to the smaller stallion. "How can I be happy when your entire life is currently built around sending me to prison?"

Vanilla Bear's field lunged for the clipboard and completely failed to snag so much as a corner of it. The wood rectangle stuck in his mane, which took the weight without a single hair being shifted. "And your entire life is about making me look bad! Which is worse than prison! Because I have to live in a jail of the soul!"

The argument, which had already worked its way backwards from doctorate-bearing professional through college and into remedial teen courses, made a dash for elementary, overshot, landed in preschool, decided it was happy there, and began working on a sand castle with a very large moat to keep all maturity out.

Luna glanced up at her sister. Softly, "I believe we should have added 'sane' to the list?"

Celestia just barely held back the groan. Whispering, "They're the best."

"Really," Luna mused. "At what?"

Celestia looked the pair over. "I'm trying to remember..."

Luna sighed. Resuming normal volume, "While I normally dislike interrupting the debates of a married couple --"

Which stopped the argument just as it was about to leave the verbal level and head for the happy world of kicking horse apple patties, which everything had been about to come down to.

"We're not married," said Chocolate Bear, with a hint of insistence.

"We're not," added Vanilla Bear, although he looked decidedly more disappointed about it.

Luna blinked. This also helped nothing, but with twice the power behind it. "But -- your names..."

"Coincidence," Chocolate Bear told her. "And luck."

"We got assigned as roommates in college," Vanilla Bear chimed in. "Because they were going alphabetically by last name. For the ponies who had them. We've worked together ever since."

Chocolate Bear nodded. "But we're not married."

"Absolutely," Vanilla Bear told the sisters. "But you know -- if we were..."

The thin stallion tilted his head slightly to the right and looked up. He also stopped blinking. And then he kept looking up without blinking. He breathed. Luna presumed he had a heart and that it was functioning, although she wasn't willing to make the same bet regarding his brain. But beyond maintaining basic life support for himself, staring up (and slightly to the right) was all he did.

The siblings put up with it for thirty seconds.

"Is there something wrong with him?" Luna directly inquired.

"It's -- hard to explain..." Chocolate Bear awkwardly offered.

"Try."

The white head came back down. The clipboard didn't shift. A very distant-seeming voice mused "...but we'd never figure out who gets custody of the train..." Everypony stared at him. Vanilla Bear didn't seem to notice. "The thing is, Princesses -- your Highnesses? -- we've been together for years. We studied together. We graduated together, we went through our internships together, we worked together all the way and that meant ultimately, we learned together. We turned into the best medical partnership our hospital ever saw. And when they wouldn't acknowledge that in a way that meant -- well, acknowledging it -- I finally gave up on getting the respect, let alone the love, of that red-maned piece of --" He blinked. "-- um.... anyway, we went into private practice together. We are a team. And I promise you, given a case like this -- one where Joyous' life is truly on the line -- we will do everything we can to save her. That's our duty as doctors."

Chocolate Bear nodded and smiled. His teeth were dazzlingly white. "We owe her no less than our best, Princesses. And our best is the best there is. She's in the finest medical fields in Equestria."

No, that would be possessed by the curmudgeon in Pranceton whom I wouldn't trust not to trot Joyous into his supervisor's office and use her to gain himself a raise. Followed by whatever other abuses he could come up with before finally tackling the issue after three days of stalling and self-amusement while claiming his subconscious was at work the whole time. You two are what was left. "Which is why she was brought here, gentlecolts," Luna managed. "When can we expect the results of the tests?"

Awkward glances were exchanged.

"Well..."

"...these things can take time..."

"...we have to eliminate possibilities..."

"...sometimes using eliminations to do it -- all right, I won't sing! -- and we have to go over things, compare notes, make sure we're not on a false path..."

"...so -- two, three..."

They stopped.

"Two or three," Luna forced herself to say with something which she would have earlier hoped still resembled patience and currently no longer truly cared about the sound of. At all. "Hours, perhaps?"

"Days," Vanilla Bear shakily said, his full attention on the sudden flare of field corona around Luna's horn.

"Which --" Chocolate Bear's field pulled at the neck of his garment as the first stars began to swirl. "-- could turn into -- weeks..."

"...or more..." Vanilla Bear just barely got out. "And we might -- need extra samples -- so we can run more tests -- and -- more tests -- there's a lot of testing involved here... it's like exams..."

His head tilted up and slightly to the right.

They waited.

After two minutes, they stopped.

"We'll await your results," Celestia told them. "You know how to contact us. But we hope you'll understand if we continue independent attempts during that period." It was not an order. Orders generally weren't that polite.

"Of course," Chocolate Bear said. His field tugged at the garment's neck again. A stream of sweat ran through the gap. "But we will do our best, Princesses. I promise -- for both of us."

The sisters nodded, and turned to leave.

"Cadance?" Celestia tiredly whispered.

"Cadance," Luna wearily agreed.

From behind them, "...but I'm allowed to show up naked, I'm a pony... Chocolate Bear?"

"What's up, Vanilla Bear?"

"We're a little bit married."

"...yeah."

Unnatural Acts

The best word to describe the middle-aged steel-grey earth pony stallion operating the train's engine was 'grizzled', primarily because he gave off an aura which roughly approximated that of an easily-upset bear. He was known to be irritated by stupidity and to him, stupidity largely meant not agreeing with him in his topic of expertise -- something which had, for the later part of his youth and the early section of his adulthood, exposed him to so much stupidity as to drive his irritability threshold into the sub-basement, where it then began excavations while yelling at several startled Diamond Dogs to get out of the way already! He had been mocked, laughed at, dismissed, and generally mistreated to the point where it was all he could do not to retaliate -- too much. And even after finding acceptance and, in the end, open celebration of everything he'd originally been made the subject of cruel jests for, that irritability remained. He trusted few to intrude on his domain, for doing so got on his nerves. It was, after all, his domain. He'd worked too hard to make it so.

But he allowed Celestia to share the engine compartment with him, for she was one of the few ponies he truly trusted, not to mention just about the only one he didn't see as stupid in some way. They were, after all, friends.

"We're looking okay for time, Celestia," he told her. (It wasn't a case of his shedding the title so much as never having used it in the first place: by the time he'd reached her, his default position on nobility had reached 'Why?') "No ice on the rails, boiler's holding steady, and it's just about a straight run from here all the way to the Empire. Call it two more hours."

She nodded. "I trust your estimates, Track."

"You'd better," Travel Track grumbled. "Let's just hope the caribou stay out of it this time. Now that we've switched out the whistle..."

A thought which normally would have made Celestia smile -- but the overall topic was a little too close to home right now. Still, she knew he was expecting a response. "So it no longer sounds quite so much like a mating call?"

"According to the mare who reworked it, yeah," he half-muttered. "Not that we can ask the 'boo for their opinion when they don't talk..." He looked out the forward windows, surveyed the swirling snow with annoyance: the pegasi had yet to establish control this far north and the workings which kept the Empire warm were also about two hours out. "She's along on this one, incidentally. I know you told me to keep the pony load low, but we're still running understaffed even with her along and if we need to make any more adjustments to the tone, she's got to be on this ride. Your staff checked her out along with the rest: she's safe." A little lower, "Even checked me..."

Celestia sighed. "Track, it's nothing personal. It's just -- part of trying to contain the problem. They're doing it with everypony." Her field moved the quill, made a few more notes on the scroll, and a quick flare of her corona sent the seventh really-the-final-last-minute-instruction-this-time into the aether. "And I'm not worried about being understaffed. On this train, one of you is worth three of anypony else."

Firmly, "Seven."

Celestia considered. With a small grin, "One and a half."

"...four?"

Teasing, "Three." It was closer to five.

"Fine..."

The door behind them opened, and a very young earth pony mare shied her way past the emergency fuel supply -- then stopped at an invisible border and refused to move a single hoofstep further. She had to be out of school -- and all the way through it, with a diploma ribbon proudly clenched between her teeth: Track hardly ever hired anypony who'd dropped out unless they were willing to complete their education in the very little spare time he was going to give them. But this mare might have skipped a few grades before vaulting a few others, with her small body just barely clearing the bar.

"Founder?" she timidly said, letting her voice approach Track when she couldn't.

The stallion groaned. "Track, 'Monica, it's Track... Let me guess: you want to test the thing, don't you?"

"...we've got caribou tracks, Founder -- we saw them at speed going by -- they looked old, but they got fresher as we went along..."

"I said to call me -- okay, fine, just keep judging on the age and set it off when you can't stand it any longer."

The pearl-and-coal mare nodded and fled, with the fire-red tail whipping out last.

Another groan. "'Founder'... where that horse apple fell from, I don't know..."

"It's an old word, Track," Celestia told him. "I hardly ever hear it -- and there's a reason for that. It's a title of honor, exclusively reserved for the first bearer in a line of new marks. And whether you like it or not -- you do qualify."

"Huh."

He watched the rails. Kept an eye on the snow. Watched for amorous imposers.

"Four."

"Two and a quarter."

It had taken two days to find the Doctors Bear -- two days which the sisters had also used for doing other things. Preparing the trip had been one of them.

Direct teleportation to the Empire was -- inadvisable. It had been centuries since they'd trotted down its streets (and at the end, trotting had been no part of it). Celestia trusted her memory of the capital city's layout to have remained clear: she didn't trust that layout to have remained the same. Teleporting that far, while escorting another, and encountering recoil at the end -- it was begging for a familiar kind of disaster. And so she'd sent a small train to the most distant northern settled zone she'd had an arrival point for. Two days had been enough for it to both arrive and undergo some degree of refit.

They'd needed extra quarters for Guards. Sealing of the windows. Reinforcing of the windows. There had been a point when Luna had simply proposed removing them entirely before Celestia had asked her (with a little too much tension) how she proposed the crew find out about rail conditions without having somepony strapped to the front. Magical defenses had been added to mundane locks, along with the securing of several key points to prevent unauthorized fields from working on the objects within -- something which had cost them three hours once everypony had arrived at the station, as those workings had to be keyed to the Princesses and every unicorn on both the Solar and Lunar staffs. There was more security and spells on the train than Celestia used when she was taking the thing by herself -- and that combined number had always been high to begin with because her Guards, some of whom could teleport themselves, were familiar with the special dangers of doing so along the railways. Celestia could go between from the train and travel to any destination within her range: there was no problem there. But she couldn't go back. Targeting a moving object, one which was out of sight and running at that kind of speed -- no. Even transiting within the thing was tricky. Teleportation took time -- a tiny fraction of what hoof travel required, but measurable time. Moments during which the train moved. To leave the train represented an abandonment which couldn't readily be taken back: to teleport within it risked ramming her body into the walls -- or worse. A normal train trip had to be well-defended because it took out one of the primary maneuvers in Celestia's arsenal --

-- and this one had to account for Joyous.

Which had meant special measures above and beyond what was used for transporting the siblings, and some of those... well, in the end, Celestia had personally smuggled in the ice bath and ordered nopony to go into that car on pain of being sent to Ponyville for a castle-paid lunch at Mr. Flankington's. Half the Guards had looked confused. Another five had laughed. Three had gone pale and hurried the others off to tell them exactly what they were up against. Nopony who'd gotten on the train had even looked at the door.

Joyous herself had been teleported directly into a private train car which Celestia had last used for giving the President of the Griffon Republic his first-ever rail ride, and had thus only found herself dedicating a mere ninety minutes to making sure it was up to standards for Joyous' occupation, which didn't account for the three hours Luna had used in undoing most of Celestia's redesign while adding extra silver tones to the whole thing. The end result was like traveling in a very plush bank vault filled with the continent's most advanced catering capabilities.

Luna...

...where is Luna right now?

To ask the question was to make an immediate dismal guess at the answer. Celestia sighed and trotted down the center aisle, trying not to break into full gallop.

Eventually, after passing through several layers of Guards, she made it into the train car -- and sure enough, there was Luna, sitting at the other end, as far from Joyous as possible. There was a light coating of frost at the edge of her sister's feathers to go with the mild shame on her features. But Joyous either hadn't noticed or was choosing not to react: the mare was quietly gazing out the window, front hooves braced on the inner rim, and her expression was -- divided. Half of the reaction seemed to be typical for a ride into the North: awe and delight at seeing the new --

-- but the rest was something else.

"Are you enjoying the trip?" Celestia asked.

Joyous glanced back, and the mix of wonder and pain on the beautiful features was hard to look at. "It's -- nice."

"Nice," Celestia echoed, forcing herself to smile. "Very few ponies have come this far north since the Empire reopened, Joyous. There's nothing wrong with appreciating a journey virtually nopony alive has ever taken."

The wonder faded. The pain took over. Brilliant yellow eyes closed against invisible agony.

Luna got to all four hooves, took a tentative half-step forward. "Joyous...?"

It was nearly a whisper. "...I hate traveling."

Both sisters went silent. Joyous dropped down onto the plush red cushions, and the beautiful body curled up.

"I've never been this far north," Joyous softly said. "It's -- just about the only place I haven't been. Up here and -- Horaceland."

Celestia's ears perked at the mention of the amusement park, and the next words emerged without her brain's consent. "Once we -- fix your problem -- I'll be happy to take you."

"We both will," Luna quickly interrupted. "Their Princess tour is truly something to see. I myself only went four moons ago, and I am eager to return --"

"-- I had the chance, when I was a filly," Joyous half-whispered. "My parents offered to take me. And I didn't go."

The siblings blinked. Fillies didn't turn down trips to Horaceland. Adults generally jumped at the opportunity. Getting ponies into the facility typically wasn't the problem. Making sure they left on time was the tax-declared profession for an eighth of the park's staff.

"My parents..." Joyous slowly continued. "There was this one year... we moved three times. Four, really, but it was three while school was still going. That was back when --" She stopped, took three slow breaths. "-- they still sort of seemed to understand -- how much it hurt. That the only thing harder than saying hello all the time was saying goodbye... And they were worried about my grades. Changing teachers, some areas used different books or studied topics before I got there or even in completely different school years. So they promised me that if I kept my average up all the way through -- and they still tried to help, back then... we'd go to Horaceland right after school let out. No matter what kind of job came their way. No matter what it paid or where it went. Two weeks just for us. And I did it. I passed all my classes. And when they told me they were ready, I didn't want to go. Because I was so sick of travel. Because even going to Horaceland was going somewhere... and there was hardly anypony in the last settled zone who knew anything about me that wasn't my name, two extra weeks there and maybe -- somepony would have -- said hello, and... anypony I met at Horaceland would have been gone in two weeks and I never would have seen them again, the same as everywhere else..."

She sighed. It was long. It was slow. Her wings stretched slightly at the apex of the sound, and the lush obsidian tail drooped over the edge of the cushions.

"But when I didn't want to go," Joyous softly went on, "they decided it was two weeks -- where they could work. And maybe we could have a little fun together on the way to the next job. So we traveled again..."

The pegasus stopped. Looked down at the cushions, eyes half-closed.

Luna took a slow breath. "At least they realized it was hard for you," she said. "Two weeks at Horaceland -- it is a considerable sacrifice of bits. They only wished to make you happy."

"They knew it hurt," Joyous whispered. "Once."

Celestia took a half-step forward of her own, used nearly all her will to keep it from being more. From dropping down next to Joyous and pressing tightly against her, from comforting. Something she would have done for anypony -- and something she couldn't do for this one, because she didn't trust herself to make it stop there.

"Once?" was all Celestia could offer.

"They -- loved travel," Joyous said, and her ears dipped. "It was part of their job, and they loved their job so much... that's how they met. There was a paperwork mixup and two ponies were hired to survey the same wild zone. They ran into each other in the middle of it, they were fighting over who'd been hired first and was going to get paid at all, a neurocypher heard all the yelling and attacked... they only got out because they worked together, and they got married ten moons later. They loved guarding each other's flanks, getting out of scrapes together, taking the risks. But they knew it was hard for me... not keeping any friends... and they tried for long-term contracts, they really did, but -- just for a while..."

"What happened?" Luna asked, and Celestia could see the tremble in her sister's limbs as the younger forced herself not to approach.

"I happened," Joyous whispered, and curled up more tightly.

Celestia blinked, and the momentary cutoff of outer vision was more than enough for a thousand inner horrors to show themselves. She breathed in as defense against them, and the mare's scent filled the world. "Your --"

"-- no," Joyous forced herself to break in. "Not my mark. It was -- before. They realized that I -- wasn't them..."

Luna lost a half-step's worth of personal war. "Joyous -- tell us, please..."

"Two weather surveyors," Joyous quietly said. "Talents -- aren't inherited. But some marks run in families, I know that. Your parents are farmers -- so they raise you as a farmer -- and most of the time, you turn out to be a farmer. They were sure that since they were my parents, I'd be just like them. So they tried to make me enjoy it, whenever they could. They'd show me the sights in all of Equestria for our settled zones. Sometimes after they'd surveyed a wild zone and found a beautiful spot inside it, someplace that would be safe during the day with adult company, they'd take me inside. We even went beyond Equestria sometimes, outside the borders, anywhere there was something to see. And they'd talk about how weather patterns were naturally created and broke down, interferences from different fronts and collisions... and how pegasi techniques could tame all of it. I knew more about techniques in my fourth year of school than most of the instructors... but I didn't want to do any of it. I didn't want to travel. I just wanted -- to stay in one place. To have friends... and I couldn't make them easily, or keep them ever. It got to the point where I hated it. I tried not to hate them... for what they did... it was their own marks, it was their job, and they loved it so much... I think they sort of believed that if I loved it like they did, the rest would just -- stop mattering, but... I wasn't them. I was never going to be them. And when they realized that..."

Celestia had been trying to find them for days. Reaching out. Attempting to make contact.

She knew Joyous had run away. Luna had believed the pegasus had fled from at least the suggestion of assault, and perhaps the first attempt at it. They had assumed that attack had been caused by Joyous' talent. But...

Celestia had been trying to contact -- what?

And then the rising anger overrode everything else. "Joyous, if they tried to do anything to you --"

"-- they didn't," Joyous said, and the next sentences were broken. "They -- stopped. Doing anything. With me. If it wasn't -- their job -- they didn't care. They just -- went into the wild zones together, came back, got some sleep, went out again. They were always working, or looking for the next place to work, or heading towards it. For them, I was -- barely there. I always cooked for myself a little, sometimes they wouldn't get back until late and they'd always be so sorry when they thought I might still join them someday, they knew I worried... but they'd come back later and later, sometimes I'd stay up for hours under Moon hoping they'd come home... that they were all right... and they'd just fly in and go to bed without even checking on me... They didn't ask about school, or teachers, or the friends I couldn't make... they didn't care about how I was feeling because they'd heard it all before, and everything I could say was old while the next weather system was new... I wasn't important any more, because I wasn't going to be them. I was just one more thing they had to pack before they could move again. And I didn't have friends, and my family wasn't one any more, and..."

The curl became tighter still, and her half-lidded gaze looked down her flank. At her mark.

Silence filled the train car, painted frost patterns on the windows.

"...I just wanted... somepony to notice me..."

They had no words which would make things not have happened. They could not trust themselves to touch her.

The two most powerful ponies in Equestria did the only thing they were capable of: stood as still as they could and watched Joyous cry.

And in the moment when their eyes met over the weeping form, they each knew the other hated herself for it.

"I did nothing before you arrived. I simply felt that I should --"

"-- I know," Celestia wearily told her sister, heavily leaning against the wall in the outer hallway. "I know." But the half-tangible tail lashed.

"Sister...?"

"It's not you," Celestia said, and it was a truth. "I'm starting to wonder what anypony could truly do to hurt her... anything which hasn't already been done..."

They could not teleport into the Crystal Palace. And so the procession trotted from the train station onto the streets of the capital city --

-- the empty streets.

Sun reflected from the buildings, diffracted and recombined, with the beams doing fascinating things as they bounced from Joyous' ever-richer coat. Spires separated the light before scattering it into rainbows which arced through the air wherever space could be found. But none of it touched a native pony. Every resident of the capital had been ordered by their own Princess to stay within their homes. They were not even to look outside. The visible population was composed of the trotting visitors from Equestria: two siblings, a pegasus with a problem, eight Guards -- and emptiness.

It was a beautiful city. It always had been and even Joyous, who longed for a place to call familiar, was caught staring about, perhaps wondering if this could somehow be the final stop on her journey. But for the group arriving from Canterlot, it was a ghost of a settled zone, quiet beyond whispers, filled with a silence which never would have existed in the shadowlands.

Rendered vacant by the threat of a weapon.

Celestia looked at those empty streets. As far as the buildings went, the Empire was almost exactly the way she and Luna had left it. There were a few changes, and those were ones which would have made any journey through the between hazardous: the train had been the right decision. But walking through the capital, after so much time...

...there had been a day when the streets had not been empty.

It had been exactly the opposite.

"Get them out of here, Sombra!"

"My loyal citizens? They've come out to support me, Celestia. They fill my city with their bodies to shield me -- with their love. How's your aim, false Sun? Are all your tricks things which work on a single target only? No radius? Surely you'd never want to hurt an innocent -- which begs the question of why you'd ever attack me at all..."

"Celestia, their eyes..."

"I see, Luna. I --"

"-- they love me, Moonshadow. Me. And in their love, they will sacrifice themselves to save me if need be. So tell me -- how do the pretenders to the sky feel about sacrifice?"

Celestia closed her eyes, reopened them. Then vanished. Now returned. And the streets were empty again.

Luna moved closer, and her words were whispered. "A bad memory, I know... but it is long past. He is gone." And her own eyes closed for a moment, so she would not have to see all the other things which had departed.

Celestia silently nodded. Wondered how many years she would have to live before the buoyancy of the good memories finally outpulled the dragging weight of the horrors.

After she'd gotten over a certain degree of -- well, dread -- Celestia had been proud of Luna for having been the one to suggest adding Cadance to their forces. Her sister had seen past the talent-created emotions which screamed rival! and challenger! without ever moving on to It has to be me! (Celestia had been slightly worried about that last, as she had reached a point when her brain had briefly tried to conceive of what might happen should the sisters somehow decide the best resolution to the problem was to let it go on while keeping Joyous in the palace and -- sharing. And then, having come up with the touchstone for that idea, it had immediately followed by attempting to shut itself down.) Yes, there had been fear of what could happen through adding a third alicorn to the ever-expanding war -- task force which was battling the problem -- but Luna had been the one to think beyond that reaction and insist on proceeding with what would hopefully turn out to be their final move.

But in the middle of that pride, Celestia had overlooked a small detail. For to have Luna propose that she and Cadance work in the same room together...

The youngest and smallest of the alicorns stared down at the refractive crystal floor of her new throne room. Her left front hoof dragged across it, creating a soft bell tone. "I don't know..." she tentatively began, her voice almost timid. "My magic is more about -- reminding..."

"No," Luna forcefully interjected. "How you use your magic is about reminding."

Cadance's purple-grey eyes came up. The two mares glared at each other.

...was to have Cadance and Luna in the same room.

"You have to understand," Cadance carefully continued, "there's a certain level of -- secrecy about my magic..."

"Oh yes," Luna shot back. "A secrecy that I, as half of the Diarchy, am surely not allowed to know about, much less discuss when it is simply the three of us in this room with no others about to overhear, spy, or report. Yes, I have truly overstepped my bounds. If you would prefer for me to wait outside --"

Luna didn't like Cadance very much.

"-- I am trying not to create a disaster!" It was rare for Cadance to raise her voice. It was almost unheard of for the former pegasus to raise it that much, to the point where the very walls rang in with a chorus of chimes while adding levels of reverberation which finally collided with the privacy-enforcing shield and ended the impromptu concert with a cymbal crash. "I've spent decades trying to avoid --"

"-- yes, your restraint, your self-control, your caring about the populace and how they might feel about you, all very important, I am sure!" Luna shouted. "Because I certainly know nothing whatsoever about what it is like to have ponies treat one as a trotting threat!"

Or at all, really...

Celestia managed not to sigh. She hadn't told Luna about Cadance immediately after the Return, or even in the first few days: in fact, she'd gone to great lengths to not only keep the two separated, but block all news of the youngest Princess' existence from reaching Luna's twitching ears. She'd wanted her sister to have adjustment time for the little things before dropping some of the major ones on her. And so it had been two weeks before she'd taken her sibling aside and explained the events which had led to a very surprising ascension, the twists and turns which had put Equestria's alicorn population back at two while the third was -- away. Luna had listened to all of it, mostly in total silence, and nodded at what Celestia thought were the appropriate points. After that, it had been time to introduce them --

-- which had, in retrospect, been the first mistake.

Luna had gone up to Cadance -- and within seconds, Celestia had realized her sister's exact emotional position with regards to the youngest: this is what you replaced me with.

At first, they had kept it to the verbal, although the accompanying bursts of thunder had grown painful after the first twenty minutes and Celestia had wound up replacing several trees in the gardens after she found out just where all the lightning had hit, which had non-coincidentally been in Cadance's favorite sections. And Cadance had always had that slight core of shyness to her, a side effect from repressing aspects of herself ever since they'd found out just what her magic was, and it was something which made her slow to rouse into anger: it generally took a lot of provocation from a pony before Cadance would even remotely consider the mere possibility of just maybe thinking about the tiniest chance of fighting back. (In the current case, it was generally best to see the Luna-Cadance relationship, such as it was, as a single extended battle with occasional long interruptions.)

And upon fully realizing that, Luna had abandoned her species and spent the rest of the night acting like a Diamond Dog.

There had been barking at the intruder. There had been growls. Fierce prowling in circles while constantly hunting for weaknesses. Looking back, it was a wonder Luna hadn't tried to (re)mark her territory. There had been a slow burn from Cadance as the long-banked fire finally stuck an ember into the air for testing -- then followed it with a conflagration. And eventually, inevitably, there had been a fight.

It had been a very short fight and it had arguably ended in a draw, mostly because Celestia had gotten her sister out before anything could escalate. However, very little of the room had still been intact when it ended, mostly because Cadance had spent the majority of her time dodging and Luna's aim had been more than a little rusty.

With Celestia glaring down at both of them, they had -- made up. More or less. At least, they had sworn not to do that again, although teeth had been gritted when they'd said it and Luna had outright refused to nuzzle. But on the occasions when they met, internal dictionaries were inevitably opened to What Can I Say Which Will Really Be Offensive? (although Cadance still needed a few extra seconds to flip the cover) before they wound up trying to bash each other with the spine of a thousand-page binder.

And that was why it had felt like a triumph to have her sister freely propose, of her own will, that they all work together. It was a sign of Progress. It was a mark of Acceptance. It was the first stage of recognition as Family.

...or it was just another sign of how far Luna was willing to go in order to help Joyous.

"I have to keep up the Lie! If ponies knew what my magic could really do, I'd be an outcast! Nopony would ever trust a relationship again! Every false start, every time something began on a strange note or ended on a bad one, I'd be blamed! You already had your slip! You should --"

-- Luna's corona went double in a single surge as her voice lost ninety percent of its volume. "My -- slip?"

Cadance's eyes widened as she realized they'd not only gone beyond the realm of dictionaries, but were about to leave language entirely. "I -- I didn't --"

"You believe," Luna said, her voice colder than Moon, "that I was any part of that? That it was purposeful, perhaps?"

Desperate now, with real apology in her voice, "Luna --"

"-- you may wish to get a head start --"

-- Celestia stepped between them.

Luna stared at her with a force of eighty percent Fluttershy. "Move."

"No," Celestia told them both.

Furious, "She said --"

"I heard it," Celestia softly replied. "I was here. I also heard how much she wants to apologize. So -- let her."

The silence was long enough for Celestia to run through a mental list of every defensive spell she knew and reject most of them.

"Very well," Luna forced through her teeth.

"I'm sorry," Cadance told her.

A hiss of "I -- accept it."

"Thank you."

Just barely audible, "And -- that."

And in a rush, "But you don't have any right to talk about my magic as if you don't understand the risk--"

Celestia draped a wing over each lunging body and teleported them both to the ice bath.

It was later. Drying had occurred. Celestia had initially considered refusing to allow Cadance any restyling of her mane before remembering Luna didn't have that problem and would thus win a decidedly more silent round.

Cadance's magic -- had been a national secret almost from the first day, and was now the most guarded truth of the restored Empire. Many unicorns had a personal spell -- a trick, to use the slang. It would typically be one of the first spells they mastered, and the first which didn't have to be taught: a manifestation of some part of their personality channeled through their field into a working. Tricks repeated, sometimes frequently -- but they all represented that little bit of inner self appearing as magic. And Cadance had been a pegasus, used to techniques, with no experience of unicorn magic at all, no idea what her trick might turn out to be, and Celestia had eagerly awaited its revelation --

-- only to find out exactly what the ascension had unleashed.

Resonance: the emotional intent behind a spell, the emotions which could go into a working, necessary for some spells to function at all and disruptive for others. There was a resonance for want, another for hatred, a familiar one linked to rage, yet another for desperation. Resonance existed for every emotion there was, and some ponies could work with those emotions and make them part of spells -- even if, as with Want It-Need It, those spells didn't work on everything. Every emotion had a purpose. Nearly every emotion could be used.

All but one.

With a single alicorn as the exception.

Cadance was the only pony known who could work with the resonance of love.

Oh, love could be the intent behind a spell, and any pony of the same race who was hit by that working would know exactly what had gone into it. And love could affect how certain spells came out. But that resonance couldn't be manipulated -- except by Cadance. She could strengthen love. She could make ponies fall in love, creating a bond where none had existed. She could destroy love. Such workings tended to be temporary, typically a few hours, sometimes minutes, a day or so at most, and Cadance usually had to be very close by: within a few body lengths -- but while they lasted, the effects were real.

Cadance had immediately realized what it meant. But Celestia had spoken with her and, after some thought, offered the solution. They had gone to every pony Cadance had affected during her Surge, and the new alicorn had silently undone nearly all of the workings. And then Celestia had publicly constructed The Lie.

The Lie claimed Cadance was the weakest of the alicorns.

The Lie insisted all Cadance did was remind ponies of love, stoke a faded fire back to its normal blaze.

The Lie had been created in a time before the press had been so hard to deal with, when there had been no questions truly asked, because the initial bad incidents had been totally reversed and nopony had been there to inquire about what had happened at all. And when The Lie had reached the modern era, it had been around for so long that everypony treated it as The Truth.

The Lie let Cadance have a life.

The Actual Truth was that Cadance, in her way, was as much a potential weapon as Joyous. One Celestia had twisted herself into spirals in attempts to never use. They didn't know if her magic could work on anypony at all -- strong countering emotions did seem to offer some resistance and shorten the duration -- much less those of the other races. They knew it could be recast as the thaums drained away. Determining any chance of permanency -- had been shot down before it could take off at all. Cadance refused to experiment: she didn't have Luna's inquiring mindset, never would have considered asking for volunteers, and Celestia herself had shuddered at the thought of pushing that talent to its limits. But if a crisis ever went that far...

...Celestia had told herself she would never do it. Would do anything to avoid it. But at the same time, she'd thought about Torque's diagnosis of an internal pragmatic core, and that thought had not been locked into day...

Cadance.

The weakest.

The least capable.

Equestria's Last Resort.

The three alicorns sat down together in the crystal throne room. And they talked. Went over the letters Celestia had sent, the last-minute additions from the journey (all twelve of them), and finally threw in what Joyous had said on the train just to make it complete.

In the end, Cadance asked them to leave her with Joyous so that she could speak with the pegasus without interruption. This had renewed the debate on a different level, but had not led to another kind of fight: Cadance had offered them the chance to watch through a secret crystal window, that part of the wall enchanted to allow one-way sight for the duration: one of Sombra's old measures. But she would block sound. If she did anything inappropriate, they would see it and could freely move to stop her. But the words had to be private.

They'd agreed. Left the room. And for the next ninety minutes, they'd watched in silence, sometimes paying attention to the breathing of the other, occasionally dispelling wisps of fog as heat and chill met between them -- and they both kept their eyes on the youngest alicorn, who was spending more single-exposure time in a room with Joyous than anypony before her.

Watched her for signs of being affected.

And nothing happened.

The two sides of the coin had met -- and nothing was spinning.

Joyous had been sent back to her train car: the reserved room within the palace was still being invasion-proofed. The three rulers were alone again, resting prone on cushions which had been unceremoniously tossed onto the crystal floor.

"She's a lot like me," Cadance finally began. "Isn't she?"

Celestia managed a weak smile, but wasn't able to hold it for long. "The way you were after your first Surge, yes... knowing what she can do, terrified of it, looking for any means to make it go away... I remember, Cadance." A desperate flight into the Solar throne room, panicked and screaming and frightened of herself to a point... where she had mentally gone down the first section of the same air path Joyous had fled through. She'd realized how other ponies would react if they found out what she was truly capable of. She'd initially tried to deny that part of herself, refused to use it at all, desperately sought darker measures before coming to Celestia... Yes, there were ways in which that long-ago Cadance had been very much like Joyous, including portions of their posture, that desperate hope to be somehow overlooked --

-- but there had been three crucial differences.

Cadance sighed and named them. "Except that -- I have control. You know how to spot when I've done something to anypony and my workings can be countered. Anypony who truly knows about me can stop everything." (Which sounded to Celestia like the words of a long self-enforced delusion: for unicorn workings, Cadance had the least strength of the three -- but it was still alicorn strength, and blocking her would be a major effort for some and impossible for most, which included all of those without horns. Still, it could all be countered with time and effort -- from the right pony.) "Joyous..." and her expression went awkward.

"None of the three," Luna said.

Which just made Cadance's eyelashes briefly vibrate with uncertainly. "I -- have to say some things here." Looking from one sister to the other in turn. "They have to be said, and..." She trailed off, blinked a few times, took a slow breath.

"Cadance, we're in your realm," Celestia said, and the smile was stronger. "You not only have the floor, you own it."

Another breath, a deeper one. "You're -- not going to like this." Another side-to-side glance. "Either of you."

Luna's expression directly stated not liking what Cadance had to say was a position she was entirely used to. "I hardly see where that has stopped you before --"

"-- Luna..." Celestia gently interjected.

A sigh. "Very well." Luna's front left hoof gestured outwards in a false salute. "Proceed, Princess."

"Okay..." Cadance's wings fluttered, got back under control, pressed tightly against her sides. "Have either of you thought about how her talent works?"

It was Luna's turn to blink -- and then Celestia got to watch as her sister's expression tried not to go snide. "It is a talent. It is an expression of a pony's inherent magic, backed by the same power --"

"-- no," Cadance cut her off with a left hoof gesture. "I mean how it works. She's a pegasus, Luna. When she flies or uses a technique, there's feel, because she's using magic. And when she puts emotion behind it, there's resonance to go with that. But what she's doing isn't any kind of technique. What she's doing is really closer to a unicorn working -- and no pegasus field can operate like that. I would know."

Celestia frowned. "But talents break the rules to some degree. Earth ponies and pegasi can have small effects associated with their own marks. The Cakes -- they can tell the exact temperature of an oven just by feeling the heat for a moment: that's crucial for bakers..." She hadn't seen a single bakery in their walk through the Empire, and thus the very minor question of where dessert was coming from had just sent up the first signal flare from the back of her occupied mind as a brightly-lit example.

"I understand that," Cadance just barely protested, "but... please..." Another deep breath, and her wings quivered again. "You checked her for magic. Have either of you -- checked yourselves?"

Both sisters blinked this time, hard. Looked at each other.

"Cadance --"

"-- I am certain you recognize the difficulty in our going null --"

"-- it's hard to get down to a level where we can really be examined for every last thaum, you don't have the issue with your mane and tail, but you're carrying nearly as much magic as we are --"

"-- and Joyous has yet to so much as fly a single body length in my presence, much less used any technique, I have had no opportunity to gain the feel of her signature --"

"-- you haven't," Cadance finished, and there was a strange note of sadness to that. "Because -- if you found magic..." Ten seconds passed as the youngest alicorn summoned her strength. "Pri -- Celestia --" she still had occasional trouble with dropping the title "-- Luna -- have either of you tried to counter?"

Twelve seconds...

"For my part, I was not aware of what she was doing until after she had already affected me," Luna suddenly broke the silence, her voice aggravated. "Countering was not an option when I had no knowledge that anything was taking place."

"I was braced for her," Celestia declared, and was surprised at the force behind it. "I knew what she could do, I was ready, and -- it was a test, going in with knowledge --"

"-- you haven't," Cadance softly repeated. The sadness was beginning to verge into depression. "And the dreams... I don't even have to ask: you haven't tried to stop those either. Because --" and there was a gentle sigh. "-- this is where you hate me, both of you will hate me... you didn't want to."

Celestia expected Luna to stand. To lunge again. But her sister remained in her resting position, her body suddenly tensed, wings half-flared to the challenge position --

-- which Celestia had a very good view of, because she was standing, with no knowledge of having moved at all. "What do you mean. didn't want to?"

Cadance's wings vibrated again -- but stayed by her sides. "How long has it been -- since you've both let yourself -- feel attracted to another pony? Anything more than five seconds before you go into 'I wish I could -- but I can't'? And then pretending it never happened, trying to make yourself believe it's possible to forget? To never feel anything beyond those five seconds at all?"

Celestia felt her wings surge out, arc, her right front hoof pawing at the floor --

-- slowly, so very slowly, she closed her eyes. Sank back down onto the cushion. Brought her wings back to the rest position.

"Will 'a long time' work for an answer?" she quietly asked, refusing to open her eyes again.

"In some ways," Luna softly answered, "a shorter one. But -- longer than I wish to think about."

The elder sister could feel Cadance's sad nod. "You haven't tried -- because even though it's artificial, even though you know it and you're trying to fight off the strongest parts of it -- she makes you feel young. Like it's possible to want again. As if -- there's a chance. You want to help her, I know -- especially you, Luna. You see her in exile and you think about -- yourself. Being trapped within yourself. You want to free her, and the prison -- isn't of her own making, I'm sorry for what I said earlier, I am. You even love Celestia enough to let her have that dream. And neither of you would ever discard or ignore anything which might save her. But while her talent is still out of control, she isn't just making you feel like you're attracted to her. She's making you feel normal... and neither of you want to lock that out again..."

Celestia forced her eyes open, and the first thing she saw was the misery on Cadance's face. "You're right," she heard herself say. "You're right -- about all of it." And the ice cut into her heart.

"I hate calling you out," Cadance just barely managed to say. "It feels like kicking my own mother..."

"Somepony -- has to," Luna slowly replied. "We watch each other, Cadance -- always. And there are times when we will all need kicking." More slowly, "Before we put my sister through the trauma of revealing her true mane for the second time within a week -- did you try to counter?"

"Yes," Cadance simply answered, although there was a confused side glance towards Celestia as the words 'true mane' passed behind her eyes. "It didn't work. I tried to counter. Then I tried to unweave. I even went for the last just to make it a complete set. Nothing happened on any of the three. And I know my own feel isn't the best, but I couldn't get a sense of anything taking place at any time. But for the -- reaction -- I still went through all of it."

"But -- you did not react," Luna said, and it was nearly a protest. "You held steady the whole time."

"I have a very special somepony," Cadance gently answered. "I just kept thinking about him."

They divided the silence between them.

"Mark magic can be extremely subtle," Celestia admitted. "But if nothing else is happening and we look as carefully as we can, we might pick it up -- and that means we should check. But Cadance -- you've had the most recent exposure, not to mention the longest in a single stretch -- and going null is a little easier for you. Go first -- please? And then we'll follow." A hard glance at Luna which came with a silent warning to leave any and all potential cameras exactly where they were. "For completion."

Cadance nodded, frowned, winced -- and there was no visible change, but the sisters felt the inner fire being dampened, and knew it had been done. Then the siblings concentrated, grimaced in unison -- and Celestia watched as Luna's star-streaming tail collapsed into long strands of light blue, even as Celestia's own mane fell in front of her eyes. She shook her head to clear her field of vision, not to mention preventing more than her own most momentary glimpse of her true hair.

Cadance blinked. Several times. Celestia gave her an equally hard look, one attached to Your Surrogate Mother Can And Will Consider Kicking Back. The blinking stopped.

"Oh," was all she said, and even that got her a glare.

"Very well," Luna said, and the near-smirk felt like the most normal thing to happen between the three of them all day. "Carefully..."

They inspected.

They came up empty.

No magic. Not a single trace of anything was on them, not so much as a single lingering thaum. The only bits of feel present came from the inspection itself. And yet the effect was still there, pressing at them, urging all the while...

They stared at each other.

"It's -- not magic?" Celestia finally got out. "How is that possible? The talent is an expression of a pony's inner magic, we all know that! How can magic work -- without magic?"

"I don't know," Cadance said. "I wish I knew -- for her sake, I wish I could have just glanced at her and known how to fix everything... but it leads to what I know Luna once said can be the most important thing: the next question. Maybe you've been asking the wrong ones so far -- but now we all have a new one. If we figure out the answer, then maybe we'll know what's wrong -- and how to stop it."

She slowly stood up.

"I need coffee," she said. "A lot of coffee." Turned towards the door. "I'll be back in a little while, all right?" And trotted out.

Luna glanced at Celestia as the elder let the magic suffuse her mane once again, and all her younger sister could think to say was "...coffee?"

"Yes."

"Not wake-up juice?"

"No. Coffee. Always coffee. She's a coffee fiend. I think she only studied earth pony magic so she could cultivate her own beans."

"I heard somepony say coffee stunts one's growth."

Celestia shrugged. "It's a myth."

"And you know that because...?"

"You think I didn't try? Two mugs a day, Luna. For ten years. Trust me, it does nothing. Except for the caffeine. And the taste. I only have a mug now if I'm meeting with someone from a nation big on hospitality and they offer it to me. I spent four moons trying to figure out how to teleport liquid out of my mouth before it hits my tongue and it never worked..."

They waited in silence for a while.

Then it became a longer while.

The while grew up, entered school, and began taking advanced courses in irritated boredom before unleashing its degree upon the world.

"How long has it been?"

"About ninety minutes, Luna."

"I have never prepared coffee on the few occasions when I chose to risk it. How long does it take?"

"Nowhere near this long."

"And we have waited here because...?"

"Cadance can drink a lot of coffee."

"...that much?"

Celestia abruptly stood up. "No."

Luna scrambled to her hooves. "Joyous! If Cadance has gone to the train -- even a moment out of our sight would have been enough for --!"

"-- she can't teleport, Luna, she never managed to get the feel for it..." But her own panic was rising. They'd left Love and Lust in the same room for the same amount of time that Cadance had been gone, a single extended Tartarus-freed exposure...

"She has had far more than enough time to fly!" Luna shouted. "She could be doing anything! We should have followed her! We should not have trusted! Sister, we must go to Joyous! She needs our help!"

Celestia didn't even spare the time for a nod. They went between at the same moment --

-- and came out in the train car, which they had come to an independent decision to memorize. Just in case.

With both sisters having chosen the exact same space for their emergency arrival point.

Two solids arrived in that space. Momentum randomly picked a direction for each and threw them outwards until they found enough open area to safely emerge.

In other words, recoil happened.

Luna went left, impacting into a reinforced section of wood between two windows, her back hitting first and hardest. In partial defiance of gravity and with odd deference to friction, she slowly slid down the wall until she came to rest against the floor in what would have been a semi-normal sitting position for a minotaur and, for all but the most double-jointed of ponies, was begging to wreak havoc on the spine.

Celestia, in contrast, simply went into the ceiling -- which rebounded her into the floor with a thud that shook the entire car.

Joyous, who had been napping on the corner bed, woke up with the best speed a pony who'd spent years living in a wild zone's fringe could muster: a lot.

"Princess?" This to Luna, who was blinking away the last bits of daze. Then a more panicked "Princess?" to Celestia, who was trying to force herself back to her hooves. "What -- what happened? Are you both all right? Is something --"

"We were just checking on you," Celestia sped through. "Has anypony been in here since we brought you back?"

"No... I've been alone..." Joyous managed, visibly confused -- and with fear starting to overwhelm that. "Were you two --" open dread permeated every letter "-- fighting?"

"We were not," Luna rushed. "There was an accident -- one which happens sometimes in teleporting -- we will explain it later -- rest, we have to go, there is something which must be accounted for, nothing you need worry about, we are working on the problem..."

And they were back in the crystal throne room, with Joyous' renewed confusion as the last thing each saw.

"We -- didn't actually tell Cadance about the train car, did we?" Celestia asked as she tried to ignore the demanding pains echoing throughout her entire body.

"We -- did not," Luna abashedly replied. "Simply that we had a safe place for Joyous until her room here was ready. But she knew how we arrived, and it would not take so long to search the train... which means that either she was waiting for us to search for her so she could slip away --" she paused, visibly trying to figure out if that had made any sense "-- or she is elsewhere."

"But -- ninety minutes, Luna. Nopony can drink coffee for ninety straight minutes, not even Cadance. And if she'd thought of the answer and headed off to get it, she still can't teleport, so it would have to be in the Empire or just outside it: she could manipulate a path through the weather, but there's only so far she could have gone..."

"We still need to find her."

"Agreed. Check the palace first?"

"Yes." Luna frowned. "Do you recall any portion of the layout?"

"I never got to most of it."

"Nor did I. Out that door and left to start, it is as good a way to begin as anything else..."

They raced from the throne room --

-- and nearly trampled Shining Armor.

Both sisters stopped just in time. Their bodies had reacted before their minds had, recognizing the need to protect the stallion -- although what was left which could be still done to him was an increasingly loud question, as 'trampled' had apparently already worked into his personal reality before sending out for reinforcements. Overwhelming numbers of them.

His tail was pointing in five directions at once. Using the description 'in disarray' for his mane seemed too weak, as it completely forgot to account for the portions which had been unevenly bitten off. The left eye didn't seem to be focusing in the same direction as the right, which was spinning slightly in a slow counterclockwise rotation. The white coat lay against the grain of the fur, his body, and in some places, reality. His tongue was partway out, all four knees were bent, and he wasn't walking so much as falling vaguely forward without ever quite hitting the ground. It took him eight seconds to realize he'd nearly been hit, two more until he began looking up, and five extra before he began to remotely recognize the ponies who'd just pulled up short of destroying what little was left.

To look at Shining Armor was to mentally review the nation's disaster relief budget and consider whether sufficient funds remained for assignment to him -- and then realize there weren't enough bits in all the world.

"...Princesses?" The horribly weak tone stated he still wasn't quite sure.

"Captain," Luna blurted, "are you all right? Was there an attack?"

"...yes... no... sort of... I..."

He blinked. That took fifteen seconds.

"Shining Armor," Celestia carefully began, suddenly knowing what the answer was going to be, "have you seen Cadance?"

"...yes..."

"Where is she?"

"...I locked her in a shield..."

"Because?"

"...only way to escape..."

Luna looked at Celestia. The elder glanced at the younger in turn.

"Thinking of her very special somepony the whole time," Celestia said.

"No reaction at all," Luna sighed.

"None whatsoever."

They both turned back to the ravaged stallion.

"Shining Armor," Celestia continued, "did you -- consent?"

"...she said -- she wanted... she tackled me..."

"But -- you said yes?" Luna tried again.

"...was starting to before she knocked me over..."

His knees bent a little more. A half-severed tail hair gave up entirely and drifted to the floor.

"...begged for a break... she said five seconds for water and then..."

Two more hairs fell.

"...don't think the shield's going to hold for long..."

Another four.

"...help?"

The siblings sighed.

"Where is your bedroom?" Luna gently asked.

"...upstairs... three flights, right, two doors..."

They began heading in that direction.

"We can take her," Celestia said.

Luna's smile was exceptionally grim. "I am looking forward to it."

"Luna, we're going to be careful. And gentle."

"Oh, yes. I understand completely, sister. I fully intend to be both careful and gentle all over the palace..."

And from behind them, the last words the weak voice managed before the spent body hit the floor were "...she kept calling me Joyous... who's Joyous?"

Displacement Issues

It's not my fault.

Celestia gazed out the open window of her assigned (and far too opulent) bedroom, staring up at the Moon. The light did marvelous things to the crystal structures below, she remembered some of the effects plus just how they interacted with the coats of the residents and with the weapon secured for the night, some of those were out and about now, she could hear ponies laughing in the streets -- but she didn't look down.

There had been times when she'd wanted nothing more than to hear crystal ponies truly laughing again. Because something had been found funny. Because there was a joke being played. Because they were happy -- and hadn't been told to be. The sound should have made her feel better, served as inspiration to swoop down and join the fun. The crystal ponies barely knew who she was, nothing more than that 'visiting royalty' stamp. She wasn't even a page in a history book: the old texts had been removed (with a few copies kept just to see what Sombra had dictated as not even remotely being the actual events) and there hadn't been enough time to publish anything new. The ponies below would stare at her, for height and horn and wings and mane and tail -- but perhaps that would have been all. There might even be the tiniest chance that, should she descend, she might find a precious second of being treated as if she was --

-- normal.

It's not my fault.

She couldn't sleep, in part because she knew what would be within her nightscape. Who. She wasn't ready for that yet. And she couldn't go down to join the crystal ponies, because...

...of the next question. The one Cadance had known needed to be asked. She needed to figure out what it was.

Oh, there had been questions, and so many of them had been the wrong ones. A recent example had seen Luna come up with a particularly bad specimen in wanting to know where the Royal Bedroom was. The proper query in Lunaspeak would have been 'Where did you confine your spouse?', because the bedroom hadn't been it. Easily dismiss the very minor comedy factor and 'Where did you two engage in intercourse?' wouldn't have been much of an improvement because, in retrospect, there was no way Shining Armor would have been able to remain conscious long enough to recite the entire path. After failing to locate any signs of a broken shield spell in or around the bedroom, they had switched to feel, reaching out for Shining Armor's distinctive signature -- something they both had far too much experience with after having been confined within a bubble of it. And as they'd tracked it down, they had inevitably found -- the trail. Starting somewhere in the middle of it.

After it had all ended, once Cadance had been found and dealt with, the sisters had gone over the whole thing and cleaned it up personally just so the youngest wouldn't have to see any of it. That had included hauling out broken furniture, disposing of torn draperies, asking for help to seal the cracks in crystal walls (and floors, one large window, two of the ceilings...), and offering counseling to one shellshocked servant who knew exactly what she'd just seen and had no idea how to reconcile it.

It's not my fault.

Dealing with Cadance had been both the easiest and hardest part. Easy because there had been no fight at all. The junior Princess had been slumped within the shield, eyes closed, mane tangled, coat drenched in sweat and light froth, her face soaked with both of those added to previously-fallen tears. She had said nothing when they'd opened the shield to release her: simply staggered to her hooves, stumbled forward -- and then fell against them, crying again, a conflagration of self-hatred raging through the gentle pony with the intent of burning down every foundation there was.

Luna had been shocked to find the smaller body pressed so tightly against her own: Celestia had seen it in her sister's face. And then her sibling had sunk down to the floor in perfect synchronization with Cadance's collapse, the impact of their bodies sending out near-twin bell tones, and simply allowed Cadance to cry. Forty minutes without moving, wings draped over the youngest, eyes closed in silent empathy, and Celestia had seen all of it because she'd joined them a split-second after and refused to leave.

Shining Armor -- the first thing he'd done after being revived, treated, and very quickly informed was rush to his mate's side so he could tell her there was nothing to forgive. That he had been giving consent, that he wouldn't have married her if it hadn't been in his plans to let her tackle him every so often. At one point, he'd reminded her of what had been her final test -- the one where she had told him everything she could do, and he had trusted that none of it had been done to him. Wanting her to remember everything that meant.

He had listened as she'd sobbed apologies with one breath and then insisted there was nothing she could ever do to make amends with the next. The siblings had left them alone together after that, taken that time to clean up, and Cadance had finally come downstairs with her mate, smiling, her eyes bright. It was almost enough to hide the refraction from the flowing tears.

Celestia was sure Cadance understood that Shining Armor had forgiven her. That in his mind, there was nothing which needed forgiveness at all because

It's not my fault.

the trigger had been imposed from the outside. But for Cadance to forgive herself...

After dinner, Luna had risked a single inquiry -- to Celestia. It had been a simple one: why hadn't Cadance let Shining Armor know Joyous was coming? The captain of the Crystal Guard had clearly possessed no idea about what had happened or why -- which meant he hadn't known just who had been that trigger: Celestia had belatedly realized it and gotten to the recovery room just in time to brief him on the staggering run. The sisters had taken great pains (and more than a dozen scrolls) to let Cadance know exactly what the Empire might be in for. And Shining Armor had known to set up the security precautions and clear the streets, had a full understanding of the needs and worked out how to achieve them -- but it seemed nopony had ever told him the complete reason for why, and there was only one alicorn who could have given him that information at all.

An alicorn who, standing within the strange acoustics created by crystal walls, had heard every word Luna said.

Cadance had trotted up behind them, planting her hooves to provide musical warning of her impending presence, making Luna do everything possible not to jump -- and then said "You really expected me to tell my husband that the world's sexiest mare was dropping by for a visit?" And she'd laughed, a single peal which sang concerts against the walls --

-- but they'd both watched her pass between them, head for the stairs. Seen her posture alter from moment to moment as she tried to stay fully upright and relaxed. Watched her tail as it drooped, straightened again, beat against its owner's flanks. And the strange acoustics had brought them echoes from that Royal Bedroom as Cadance begged Shining Armor not to share sleep with her that night, she didn't deserve...

It's not my fault.

...an order the captain had ignored.

The next question...

....there was one which Luna had already asked.

"Do ponies express their attraction only according to their personality, or does even that vanish with continued exposure?"

Torque, not a pony at all --- but he had tried to fight his way to Joyous because that was what minotaurs did.

Cadance, with the single longest continuous duration in Joyous' presence. She had claimed to have been thinking of her very special somepony the whole time, and while it had been the mare's name which had been called out -- it had been the stallion she'd sought at the moment her control had finally broken, arousal beyond endurance, needing a place to explode. She had not thought of -- personal measures, nor had she tried to find other ways of calming (or cooling) down, for Cadance believed in love, and had shifted the need -- because for Cadance, when desire was felt, it meant you looked for the one who had expressed desire for you. The one who'd promised that desire would last a lifetime.

Luna... oh, Celestia could see it now. The refurbishments of the cell and train car should have alerted her to what was going on, and she'd somehow managed to overlook the food. Luna couldn't cook, neither of them could beyond the level of the most basic trail food and their mutual lack of skill had generally inspired others to get off the trail all the faster. It had initially made both of them lightly fascinated by the results produced by those who possessed that talent -- and over the centuries, that curiosity had become something else. Neither sister could afford to be a hedonist, not in some senses of the word -- but they each had to take their pleasure somewhere. Celestia had ultimately gravitated towards pastries, cookies, and everything else which she still had to force herself not to hire the Cakes for. Luna smirked at the elder's devotion to baked goods -- while quietly sampling the most exotic fruits in the world and getting excuses ready in case somepony noticed. Fruits she still raised herself in this current age within a renewed private garden -- most of which had found its way to Joyous' table. For when Luna's attentions focused on a pony, gifts flowed.

And she could so easily hear her sister's voice. 'I give you the finest chambers Canterlot can offer. I grant you the best food on the continent and beyond. I offer you the full devotion of my time and effort, the knowledge that I will do anything, anything to be the one who provides the one thing you truly desire: a life...'

'I give you everything of myself so that you may ultimately find yourself. Because --'

-- that was who Luna was.

Two alicorns affected by Joyous. Two who were, even during their attempts to fight off direct physical interaction with the cause, thus far expressing that desire according to their personalities.

And the third?

'She's making you feel normal. She's making you feel young.'

When I was young...

...anypony could die at any moment.

It didn't exactly help with our social lives.

How would I have proven myself as a prospective mate?

A pony from her own generation -- as the elder sister, the one who would have taken over if

(my father just)

there had been no other options left...

I would have tried to prove that I could keep somepony safe.

I've been designing the security measures. I've been making sure the isolation is what it needs to be. I rush forth when I think she needs protecting, no matter what she might need protecting from. Even if that's my own sister and there's no threat at all: I have to be there and guard her --

-- from the chaos.

And there was more to it.

The scrolls. The Tartarus-freed scrolls which she had been sending into the aether with no assurances they would ever arrive, because her skills were inferior and they still had to create the effort which ultimately solved that tiny part of the problem because

Sun and Moon, I've been trying to make a good impression on her parents.

Look at me. Look at all the work I've been doing in trying to help your daughter. Forget my little sister: I'm the one who found you and let you know your daughter, your most precious creation, is safe and she's safe because I made her that way and that means you can trust her to me and with me forever...

She hadn't taken the simple measure of asking Spike to send the missives because she didn't want the little dragon to get any of the credit.

Celestia closed her eyes. More true laughter drifted up from the streets, and it was an effort to convince herself none of it was well-earned mockery.

It's not my fault.

...how many times have I deliberately not thought that since this started? I can finally indulge in some fantasies because it's not my fault. I can enjoy the dreams because it's not my fault. Just let it all take place and enjoy the ride for as long as it lasts because no matter what happens, it's not my fault.

I told Cadance that what happened wasn't her fault...

The laughter seemed to be getting louder.

Whose fault was it, really?

When I introduced Joyous to Torque, I called her an envoy. I could have come up with any other excuse. Another title. Is there anything else on my mind? An idea I was trying to hide from myself secured somewhere within that inner core, pragmatist?

Joyous is so many things.

A problem.

A victim.

An excuse.

I can't counter her: I know that now, and it is something I should have tested for myself long before Cadance brought it out. Until we find out how she's doing it, we can't stop it. All we can do is guard ourselves and each other, try to recognize when we're acting according to our personalities -- and if we're about to leave that behind. Hope we can stop ourselves, or that somepony who loves us will do it first...

But I am done with trying to impress her horse apple smear excuses for parents.

Celestia went between.

The sleepy little dragon rubbed his eyes, glanced back through the glass panes inset into the porch doors, checked his sleeping sister for signs of movement. None were present.

Whispering, "So how many, total?" It was a sign of both lost sleep and concern that the nictitating membranes visibly flickered.

"Forty," Celestia replied, her voice pitched as quietly as she could manage: there were times when it felt as if her student was far too attuned to her voice. "I know it's a lot, Spike. Don't worry: I brought the gems myself. You won't run out of flame."

He sighed. "I just don't want to miss anypony..."

"You never do," and Celestia was able to put a smile to the words.

"That one time --"

"-- Luna was as good as a gallop," she assured him. "I believe in you, Spike. You keep giving me reasons to."

He managed a smile of his own, and Celestia wondered if the words would stay with him this time. "Okay. Forty..."

She nodded. "Three for them. One to each, one addressed to both together. Trying nothing but mutual contact was a mistake I made and I'm not asking you to repeat it." They were ponies who spent most of their time in wild zones and as such, there was always the chance that one or both would never emerge. A letter sent with no living recipient... well, it might arrive in the shadowlands, but neither would ever know, and a reply would never come.

Celestia had learned that the hard way.

"And the other thirty-seven?"

"Are for every major police department which neighbors a potential settlement area on the continent, and most of the minor ones." It took everything she had left not to spit the words out under a close-to-being-lowered Moon she'd spent far too much time awake beneath for a single exposure: her teeth had been on edge for hours, and that was the least of it. Celestia was finished with half-measures. "Each containing a Priority One Royal Summons, authorization for all necessary local budget search expenditures, guaranteed Royal Vouchers to reimburse their actual costs, and one copy each of the sketches I had made from Joyous' description. If they have to interview every pre-settlement survey company in Equestria and go through the right wild zone a quarter-hoofwidth at a time, then that's what's going to happen. I don't care if the Releases don't want to know about their daughter's problems. I don't care about their contracts or travel situation or just how interesting that latest weather pattern is. I want them found and I want them brought in now."

They are fighting.

It is a verbal fight, yes. But heated words and cold logic have a way of turning somewhat figurative in the nightscape. The environment twists about them, warps in ways large and small. One stands under Sun, the other beneath Moon. The border between the two writhes, fights the pressure from both sides. Neither will give a single hoofstep, and the world burns and freezes about them to match.

"Lock her away."

"I said I would not."

"I need you to do this for me, Luna. I need to rest -- without thinking about her. Without seeing her. Without..."

"And thus you would find no inspiration in your nightscape. No potential answers -- and I am not about to remove a single source of hope."

"I'm not finding answers! Just -- her! That's not going to change!"

"You cannot know that."

The Sun dips for a moment before surging higher into the sky.

"Remember what you said, Luna? That we have to be rational beings -- and nothing more? You are giving me a place to be irrational in, without restraints, without limits, and I can't stop myself. I don't want to, you know Cadance was right about that. I'm trying to control it under Sun. But under Moon... Luna. please -- you have to lock her away..."

"No."

"...why won't you do this for me?"

"Because I am not the Nightmare."

Constellations shift, become the outlines of four familiar marks.

"...that doesn't make any sense, Luna. You have to --"

"It hated you. Not me. And it would have granted your request in an instant, sister. Obeyed your order out of spite and anger and the need to destroy your heart of hearts. But I am not the Nightmare. I never was. So -- why do you believe I could ever hate you so much as to take away a dream?"

"I wish Twilight was here."

Luna looked up at the words, and the smirk was rather on the light side. "My apologies, Princess, but it seems my sister has forbidden her student's direct intervention in attempting to solve the problem unless doing so becomes one of what, at last count, was twenty-three last resorts. Admittedly, that number has probably gone up in the hour since we last tallied, but until she feels that we have finally reached that point..."

"I don't want her here to work with us," Cadance grumped. "I want her to organize this stupid library. I know I'm still learning to read Ancient Crystalia, but I know enough to recognize that whatever they wrote the card catalog in isn't it..."

Celestia glanced over from the pile of books she'd been field-sorting through. "Tell me about it," she wryly agreed. "And the language is so convoluted to begin with... I keep hoping we're going to come up with something in here and I'm still dreading following any instructions we might potentially get from it." A single tilt of a mouthwritten character changed words -- and while the Empire had come up with a huge number of innovations during its heyday, 'paragraphs' had never been on the list. To read anything in Crystalia was to make a best guess at just where any given portion was meant to begin and end -- then compare notes just to verify that everypony else had in fact picked completely different spots.

"At least you learned to read it at all," Luna groused. "I have been looking at the same diagram for ten minutes. I am entirely certain that it is a diagram. However, my initial impression of a mystic circle designed to disenchant whatever rested within is now starting to look somewhat more like a particularly disagreeable idea for a manestyle."

Which had all come across as fully sincere -- and it meant Celestia had to ask. "What makes you think that?"

"I have a rather distinctive memory of that one style of shampoo bottle which the crowd kept pelting me with during our last mutual visit and just spotted the shape within the margins. And that involuntary grooming was an experience which is rapidly proving superior to that of going through the next book. There has to be something else we can do."

"You've been saying that for the last two days," Cadance pointed out.

"Have I? Then I am in admiration of my own restraint, given that we have been at this for four..."

Now had turned out to be its usual variable.

Cadance had given them her insight: ask the next question. But with no other ideas on the horizon and all the questions they could come up with seeming to endlessly echo earlier editions, they'd mutually gone back to one of the older ideas: research. The Empire's knowledge was, for the most part, severely out of date, not to mention out of touch: even before Sombra had taken over, they'd never had much in the way of contact with the rest of the continent. But at the same time, that meant their archives had the potential to contain knowledge which Canterlot had never seen. There had been faint hope of discovery within the not-quite-organized-to-Twilight-standards stacks -- so there had been an attempt to locate that theoretical information, with the Princesses taking direct part in it just so they would have something to do, claiming a large room for themselves well out of (carefully verified) hearing range from the few local researchers Cadance had added to the overall group. There was just the minor issue of a semi-porous language barrier. And a paragraph division problem. Plus the card catalog appeared to have been directly imported from Tartarus.

But it also put them all in the same room, supervising each other. Some of the time.

Celestia glanced up from her position on the floor (because there was nothing in the library large enough for her and crystal ponies seemed to be a little shorter on average than Equestria's three races, she swore the entire country had been built to an extra underscale just to see how she would deal with it) and checked the clock. "I should go back..."

"You have been back twice already," Luna said, not bothering to suppress any of the frustration. "And that is only the tally for the period since I attended to my duties with the Moon."

Celestia sighed. "We managed to spare the time for the trip up here, Luna -- but Equestria expects us to check back regularly. Remember, most ponies don't even know we're in the Empire right now. We have to manage our own realm -- not to mention keeping up the appearance of being there full-time."

"Yes," Luna simply agreed (and that in itself immediately roused Celestia's suspicions). "All quite correct. Reassuring the populace that we are at our normal tasks and accomplishing those in our home is of course a priority. However, at this hour, your personal priority would rapidly be approaching a decidedly overdue quest to find your bed, which quite logically dictates that I should be the one to go back."

"You're avoiding the books."

"Books I cannot read," Luna not quite shot back. "I can see no way in which I am not of very little use here. If you wish to escort me through the between to be certain I arrive in Canterlot, do so and then teleport back yourself." A small increase in volume. "Should you need to bring Cadance as well, I know that is within your abilities." Another, not quite so minor. "If you then detect a necessity for chaining my forelegs to my own throne --" and she stopped. Took a slow breath. "-- I apologize."

Celestia and Cadance sighed in not-quite-chorus, with the youngest taking up the words. "Luna, it's okay. You've both been awake at all the wrong times for days, you're tired, we're all a little short-tempered --"

"-- and it does not change the fact that I am useless." Luna's front right hoof slammed into the book she hadn't been reading: the resulting ice block rebounded off two walls before knocking over a enchanted light. "A filly with a mere year of local education at the lowest level of school in existence would be a more practical addition to our forces than I am at this moment. I remain determined to help Joyous, I will do everything I can -- but how am I accomplishing any part of it in this place? If I am in Canterlot attending to the duties of the realm, then it at least frees the two who can read to be effective, I will no longer be in the way...!"

The thunder sounded odd, reverberating from the crystal walls.

Celestia slowly got up, trotted over to her sister, nuzzled against her. Luna closed her eyes, allowed it to happen. Cadance, perhaps uncertain of her proper place during such moments or simply not wanting to chance damaging the fragile truce, quietly watched.

Finally, the younger sister released a slow sigh of her own. "I hate feeling as if I am useless, sister. That has never changed. And I simply cannot see what good it does to have me here."

Celestia pulled back just enough to look in Luna's eyes, found a smile to give. "And I shouldn't go back and forth too often." The sheer distance... manageable for them (and almost nopony else), but treating it as a casual commute was begging for exhaustion -- and Celestia had been going back at least five times a day, with the last teleport-return to the Empire a mere two hours prior. Managing her duties. Making sure nopony outside the conspiracy suspected a thing. Checking for news. To date, they'd been keeping up appearances and getting through Equestria's normal needs without interruption -- but any new crisis, however minor, could break the entire deception even as it was being dealt with, and as far as news went -- nothing that helped.

It doesn't matter whether I'm the one who hears the update or Luna is. She can take a 'Nothing, Princess' just as well as I can. At least after the temperature comes up again.

"Go," Celestia said, trying not to let the silent intention to check on Joyous in a minute (or less) show in her eyes. An intent she had seen in Luna and Cadance every time she personally teleported out -- an intent which needed to be there. "I'll put in another three hours --"

"-- one." And that chorus was perfect.

Cadance and Luna glanced at each other. Cadance giggled.

Celestia smiled. "All right -- both of us should sleep when we're supposed to, at least for this cycle. One hour, and then I'll go to bed."

Luna nodded. "Fair fortune," she said --

-- typically, she used her throne room for her primary palace arrival point, at least during the night. The reason for doing so was simple: as she'd recently been so rudely reminded, teleport sites needed to be clear in order to prevent injury. And the room was cleaned, ponies went in and out making sure every part of it was in perfect polished order -- but that cleaning was done by the Solar staff. If Luna wasn't present in the room while it was under Moon, nopony was supposed to be -- and that made it safe.

Even so, she seldom targeted the throne itself. She suspected more than a few among Celestia's staff had tried it on for (over)size, and would not have been surprised if any of her own had given in to the natural urge.

This time, the room and throne were empty, and she took a few deep breaths of what felt like slightly stale air, composing herself before heading into any other part of the castle.

Despite her best efforts, she was behind on some of her duties. Nightscape travel... the one she'd spent the most time in recently was that of her sister, and that was an argument they couldn't seem to resolve simply because Celestia refused to admit Luna was right. They'd managed to keep any part of it from coming out under Sun and Cadance thankfully hadn't asked if Luna had done anything about the dreams, but...

...there were things Celestia didn't understand. She wished her sister would realize that. Celestia needed Luna to tell her when she was being stupid: she knew that. The reverse was also true. But the recognition that this was one of those times (for the elder) didn't seem to be coming at all.

Luna sighed. Perhaps not showing up this time would be best. She could tell the difference between a call made from the midst of nightmare and all the false alarms her sister had been sounding: if she felt one more of the latter on this night, she was going to ignore it. The request itself had been stupid and it was a gift in so many ways, to let Celestia have that time with --

-- did she go to her quarters after I left?

No. Cadance is there. They will watch over each other.

They would not work together in any way.

I am certain of it.

Completely --

-- and she wrenched her thoughts back to Canterlot. What was on the docket for this evening? The Night Court had no session and she had no intention of hosting an open one, perhaps ever again. She did want to review some of the legislation on her desk to make certain it contained nothing suspect, worded through doubletalk, or written in an incredibly boring fashion in hopes that her eyes would glaze over before ever hitting the interesting parts. After that, she truly had to visit any nightscape which wasn't her sister's, be on watch for fears and consuming anxieties plus if there was somehow any free time available, there was a prank she had been planning for two days before Joyous came into her throne room and she knew Rainbow Dash would never see it coming.

But first...

Her field coated the doors, gently pushed them open, and she trotted out into her palace wing -- to, as usual, find Starstruck waiting in the hallway. She was starting to wonder if he was living there.

The earth pony stallion took a deep, slow breath. "Princess..." The black coat shifted, the white tail flicked twice, and the silver eyes stared up at her with open worry while front hooves nervously scuffed the floor. Everything about him suggested that the slightly bent spine had caved under the weight of bad news, and passing the burden to another would violate the law of pain conservation and somehow double his own. And given that he was a low-level part of the conspiracy, the one in charge of tracking Canterlot events and updating her on everything which she had to gain immediate knowledge of so that she could present the illusion of having been on top of things the entire time...

She sighed. "Best to tell me immediately, Starstruck. Rest assured that given the lack of progress in the north, there is very little you could inform me of which could truly make things worse --" with more than a little sarcasm, all tinged with the feeling of uselessness she had been unable to abandon on the library floor "-- and anything which threatens apocalypse would at least have the potential of removing any need to solve the problem. Now -- what is your news?"

Another breath. "It's twofold, Princess. I just don't know -- what to tell you first. Or -- how..."

"Are they both equally bad?"

"I don't know," Starstruck hesitantly offered. "There's something you have to -- well, one of them at least has the potential to be good, I hope, but..." His tail flicked harder, and his ears went halfway back. All four legs trembled.

Luna wasn't in the mood to be particularly subtle to begin with, and given that this was one of her own staff... "I believe we have adequately established that I do not gobble backsides, correct?"

He winced. "Princess..." The deepest breath of all, and the air filling his lungs seemed to somehow grant him a measure of extra solidity. "It's just hard to tell you things sometimes, and it's because I know how much you care about us. About everypony. We hate disappointing you or letting you down because you already have so much to deal with. Even when it's just passing things on, it can feel like we're failing you just by having that news to give." And then came the true surprise: all his knees straightened, and those silver eyes directly met hers. "What I'm afraid of is making you feel worse than you already do. I hate doing that -- but you've made it into my job, and I -- do my duty. It just hurts. Especially when I know it hurts you more."

She blinked --

-- and then she quietly said "All the burden is not mine..." before resuming her normal volume. "The potentially more positive aspect first, then. Let us take the chance of being buoyed before we mutually sink."

"The Doctors Bear contacted the palace again. They said they have the results of another test..."

"...which, as with all the others, they can only tell us about personally," Luna wearily concluded. "Because their part in this is to provide every last repeated instance of 'And this came up with nothing too' directly to our faces. I would raise my hopes that their work has at last borne fruit worth consuming, but my hopes have been in the same room with them far too often. Very well: I will make an effort and go to them later." And it would have to be a physical visit. She had taken a jaunt into Vanilla Bear's nightscape three days prior when the first of the negatives had come through and -- well, to some degree, everypony lived in their head, but that one had created an entire settlement. "And that which you see as the bad?"

He said four words.

There would have been many more, but she didn't stay to hear them.

So many means of transport available to her, and Luna made use of every one. Teleportation for when there was true distance involved or if it offered a tactical advantage. Flight for safer short-range travel, along with the sheer joy it so often brought her. But galloping -- there were times when the most basic was the best, when she could feel her muscles smoothly working, her heart pounding as her lungs expanded and contracted, her hooves impacted the marble and that could be even the best part, experiencing the solidity against her body, not the variable quality of atmosphere or endless nothing of between, the feel of existing in the here and now...

She was galloping this time, racing through her wing of the palace at her best ground speed -- which was faster than almost anypony in the world could run. Because she wanted to feel that exertion. Because the emotions storming inside her were being expressed as pure action before they could come into the world as lightning and thunder and winds meant to drive things out of the sky, things which she felt no longer had any right to be there. And because every time a hoof went into the floor, thudded down and pushed off again with so much of her considerable raw strength behind the impact, she could imagine there was a pony skull beneath it.

Luna raced, and the inner words pounded to the beat of her hooves.

We will talk about how they ignored her, turned away from her pain while considering everything else in the world to be far more important.

There will be discussion of possible neglect charges -- no, there will be neglect charges no matter what any idiotic concept for 'statute of limitations' might dictate and perhaps Tia is so very reluctant to take a judge's bench, but the law applies equally to both of us and if I wish to take up the duty for a single trial, I will. Half the ones she sits on of her own accord are for child abuse anyway: she'll understand. She may not even raise an eyebrow at the sentence. I am going to find a great deal of entertainment in coming up with something appropriate, assuming anything ever could be.

I am going to approach them with calm and rationality and logic, all of which I will use to prove they are ponies who deserve nothing more than simple justice, and that justice is me.

I am going to hurt them just as much as they hurt her.

In a legal, judicial, system-designated fashion.

But I will still hurt them.

A lot.

Four words from Starstruck: 'They're in your Courtyard.' And 'they' could only have one meaning.

Her field pushed doors open before she reached them, moved servants out of the way, found mostly-safe landing points for every object and pony which had the misfortune to be anywhere near her most direct path and her corona had gone double, two layers for the most simple of manipulations of masses that just weren't that heavy for her, but rage had its own resonance and that emotion was being expressed in the layering of the field around her horn, she knew her eyes would be fading to white and she wanted them that way, she never wanted ponies to be afraid of her unless it was absolutely necessary and this qualified --

-- she erupted into the silver-shot confines of the open-air Lunar Courtyard, lit by the illusion of a perpetual full Moon which shone above it in all weather and times during her night. Her old festival area. Her modern press conference hosting facility, which usually made her wish for the festivals. And the current poorly-intended holding pen for two metallic pegasi mares who for some reason had been left outside, even under the supervision of six Lunar Guards (all of whom had disbelieving looks on their faces, stunned expressions everywhere added to something else, but that wasn't important). Yes, her own Guards could have caught them should they have attempted to flee, not unless those pegasi had enough speed to launch rainbooms of their own, but they should never have taken the chance and --

-- the pegasi were in the air.

Circling the Courtyard near the top of the border columns. Visibly talking to each other with open excitement, ignoring everything going on below. Just -- circling and talking, over and over --

-- the strangeness of it froze her. It gave the anger extra time to chill, a vat of internal liquid atmosphere preparing to be poured over everything she intended to shatter.

"What," she hissed at Nightwatch, "are they doing out here?" Why are they not within a freezer?"

Her Guard winced. "They weren't -- actually charged with any crimes," the mare whispered. "We couldn't immobilize them unless they did something which was against the law -- and all they did was refuse to come inside. We brought them in through this access route because we thought it would be more private, and they just -- Princess, we barely got them this far at all, they kept --"

She had heard enough. She'd seen more than enough. Her field speared towards the sky, grabbed both pegasi, slammed their wings against their bodies and locked their legs straight.

Nightwatch started: the armor jangled on her streamlined torso, the helmet went slightly off-perch. "Princess!"

"I can hardly be expected to chase them," Luna forced out. "This is simply -- conducting our discussion -- in a single location..." She pulled, and the pegasi were dragged from the sky. "...whether they like it or not..."

"Princess, please -- I don't know what Starstruck got to tell you, but they're --"

"-- they are here. They will account for themselves, and I am truly curious to hear the words which they have somehow convinced themselves could ever suffice..."

Luna stared (white, her eyes had to be completely white by now, her field had too many stars in it and the borders were spiking all over the place) at the two mares as they were forcibly descended. She wanted to see every detail of their bodies before those forms were tucked into twin mounds of cringing flesh...

Metallics. Both metallics, the fourth and fifth of her life, a pair of rarities defying all odds to come together and produce the third before deciding to never again care about the result. One was red with a pearl mane, the other green set off by garnet. Middle-aged, but in excellent physical shape: they had to be in order to survive in their occupations at all, not that such would be an issue again because by the time they were ever considered for parole, the mere idea of wild zone weather surveying would trigger comedy, with the actual action causing expiration. The marks... not identical in icon, but matched in theme: both survey symbols used on preliminary atmospheric maps. One meant caution. The other told ponies to be ready for a fight. As advice went, she intended to follow most of it.

She could see Joyous in them, at least physically. The shape of the eyes there, the rib cage on the other. The incredible spread of Joyous' tail wasn't visible on either one, but they were keeping both manes and tails short: less chance of tangling and being caught in plants or jaws when exiting a wild zone at speed. Something which wouldn't save them here.

Urgently, at the edge of her disinterested hearing, "Please, listen to me..."

The other five Guards were drawing closer and Luna didn't know why, she hardly needed protection from these two --

-- and then Nightwatch took her chance. "-- Luna!"

She blinked.

She looked at the midnight-shaded pegasus, maintaining the field all the while -- which was how she knew the borders were becoming just a little more smooth.

"That..." Luna got out, "...is not quite official address protocol..."

Nightwatch just barely managed her next breath, and the words were rushed. "I'm sorry, I had to get your attention, Princess, I know you're angry, we were all furious when we heard they'd been found and were about to be brought into Canterlot, we found out about five minutes after Princess Celestia left and we thought we could use the time until one of you came in again to secure and interrogate them. We were fighting over who would get to escort them in, everypony who's been in contact with her. Who got to make sure they didn't get away. But we've been with them for a couple of hours now! We've seen how they act! And -- the way you raced in here, you got moving before Starstruck could finish, didn't you? He didn't know how to tell you, he was afraid of what the words would do, what it all means... Princess, please -- look at them... really look..."

And Luna looked.

Two middle-aged metallic pegasi mares. Attractive ones, actually, not that she cared because beauty should never serve as an excuse, but it was easy to see Joyous in that as well, although the offspring was a distinct improvement on the parents in every way. There were a number of old scars dotting both bodies: wild zones encounters survived. Their faces...

...were puzzled.

There was no fear there at all. The field locking all six limbs into place only confused them. More than anything else, their expressions put Luna in mind of ponies trapped at a concert they'd never wanted to attend, the same expression she'd worn when Celestia had dragged her (not kicking and screaming, but considering it all the way) to her first opera. They wanted to get back to something which anypony of sanity might find interesting instead of mind-numbingly boring. They didn't understand why anypony would subject them to this...

...they look like ponies who don't know they've done anything wrong.

Like fillies and colts told to sit in the corner after playing a little too hard, rough-and-tumble where somepony yelped, and all of them know it's just a natural part of play and the stupid adults are the ones who don't understand how it works.

They look like we interrupted something truly important for something ridiculously trivial and they don't understand why.

Luna had seen insane ponies in her time, too many of them, especially during the before, when sanity had been so very hard to hold onto. She knew a thousand little signs which would indicate a pony was on the verge of that final surrender to the madness of that lost world. And so many of them had resembled this, the total bewilderment that came when something occurred outside a cone of understanding which had shrunk to the width of a single strand of fur...

"Princess...?"

"The breach of protocol," Luna softly said, "is forgiven."

Slowly, she brought the pegasi to ground level, loosened her grip just enough to allow movement while still keeping all hooves pressed against the aisle between the benches where those of Murdocks' normally rested and thought of the best ways to distort her words. Watched for the beginning of the techniques which Joyous had said both were so expert with, prepared to unweave any attempts at escape.

But they just blinked at her. The innocent confusion of those whose world had gone beyond the last stable strand.

She was having trouble getting volume into her voice. It didn't matter how many centuries had passed, or that there was a stone statue sitting in the garden. To be in the presence of those who were potentially insane was to remember -- and in this case, to remember was to hurt.

Luna had been strong enough then, somehow. She could be strong enough now.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked, and there was a moment when she hated the gentleness in her voice because no echo should have traveled across more than a thousand years and arrived fully intact, much less had any true need for a landing site.

The red one -- Pleasant, Joyous had said, the one who had taken on the last name... blinked at her.

"You're Princess Luna," the mare said in a voice which bore touches of accents from everywhere on the continent plus more than a little beyond. "That's a silly question. Who else could you possibly be? And you're just the pony we need to speak with."

The green -- Rapture -- smiled. "We're happy to meet you, Princess. Believe me, after discovering what's going on here, I am thrilled you brought us in. We never thought we'd meet you in our lives, or Princess Celestia, but -- it doesn't matter who called us, does it? Just that we're here now. And trust me, we know just how to fix everything."

Her Guards were staring at the two mares, and the expressions were identical there. Sorrow. So much pain...

"I admit," Pleasant laughed, "we were a little surprised to just be -- pulled out like that. And by so many ponies who needed to get us here that quickly... Honestly, a Royal Summons? For us of all ponies?"

Rapture nodded happily. "But when we thought about what it had to mean..."

Carefully, always so carefully, treat every word as if it can bring an explosion and be prepared to protect those who have yet to fall... "They did not tell you?" Luna asked.

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" Pleasant said.

Rapture agreed. "There's only one thing it could be!"

Anything can sever the last strand. Anything at all. But when words themselves have an edge...

She wasn't shivering. No part of her was trembling or shaking at all, and the effort that was taking would cost her dearly later.

Luna let the syllables come, braced herself for whatever might follow. "Your daughter."

And they couldn't even be bothered to blink.

"Her?" Rapture said, and the renewed confusion was higher than ever -- but only for a moment. "Oh, she would never be any good to you here! She never completed her training. Never even started, really. Trust me, you have just the ponies you need to straighten out that little humidity spike you've got swirling about the upper levels of the columns. It really must have been annoying you to call us, Princess! And I can see why. I nearly messed up my coat just surveying it out!"

Pleasant laughed. "Okay, maybe it's not exactly a wild zone," the mare giggled. "But when you want something done right... Don't worry, Princess! We'll get up there and make sure the moisture goes somewhere it's needed! And after that -- well, as long as we're here, we can check your gardens too. Plus I saw some porches and an observation tower on the way in and while that's not our usual field, well, not to say anything against the Canterlot weather team, I'm sure they're really good, but you'd be amazed what a subtle little tweak can do for your viewing pleasure!"

Luna felt her eyes squeeze shut, her head dip down, her tail falling to the lowest possible arc as the flow of her mane almost completely stopped.

"Of course," she said, and wondered how long it would take her to stop feeling the words. "I have a considerable amount of work for you, truly, and some of it is rather subtle. So you may have to stay for some time. And since you are here -- I had never thought about it before now, but Canterlot has been working from the same survey chart for centuries. It would not hurt in any way to reexamine the environment and ascertain nothing has changed without our knowledge. As you are the ideal ponies for such a task..."

They both laughed. "Just leave it to us, Princess!" Rapture happily declared. "We are on the job!"

Luna released her field, opened her eyes just long enough to see the pegasi take off. They flew up to the top of the columns, chattering happily. The circling began anew. And it was the last thing she could bear to watch before returning to her private darkness, a personal night offering no safety within self-inflicted shadows.

"It -- it was like that all the way in, Princess," Nightwatch softly said, and she felt the Guard move closer, almost as if the pegasus was about to press against her -- but some boundaries still remained. "All they did was talk about wind swirls and how the buildings were changing things in such interesting ways, the thermals around certain districts and things we should be doing with and about them... We tried to talk to them about Joyous, over and over, and they didn't seem to understand. If it wasn't weather surveying or alteration, they barely registered it, and never for long. And we told Starstruck, and he was trying to find a way to tell you that --"

"-- I know." And Luna had whispered the words, something she almost never did, but it had taken very nearly the last of her strength to make the words emerge at all, and the thoughts which followed took away what little remained.

It is in the blood.

It grows stronger with age.

Or... it is a disease.

It can spread.

They contracted it first and gave it to her, for their symptoms are the stronger.

Perhaps she gave it to others, and as the years pass...

In the blood: only they are affected. No cure. But only those three fall in the end, plus all those who might manifest it in their own family lines.

The best case.

But in the true worst...

A disease, one which could be contagious...

...and if Celestia has it...

...if I have it...

...Cadance...

...I swore to stop it every time...

...and she would do the same for me...

...but who is left to stand against all of us?

A single pegasus.

The palace.

The Empire.

Equestria.

Everything.

Safeword

It could have been night. It might have been day. Ultimately, it did not matter.

There was barely enough light in the dungeon room to make out the roughest outlines of the occupants, at least for one of the siblings. The younger could see perfectly in the dark, had been able to since the moment her after had begun, and the older could light things up with a thought. But they rested their bodies against the floor, assuming postures of physical calm which were in no way reflected by either mind, and neither did anything to change the lumen level. For one was most comfortable in the dark, and the other simply did not wish to look at anything in the real world, for the images playing within the internal theater had taken so much of her attention.

They had chosen the dungeon for privacy. For a complete lack of those who would take the too-calm words and spread them into the rest of the realm, creating a panic nopony would be able to stop. And because it felt appropriate somehow, that the prisons their bodies might become were momentarily confined within an inadequate secondary one.

Sometimes the room was hot. At others, it was cold. Neither occupant noticed.

In soft tones, with the burden pressing down on each and every syllable, they wrapped up the inevitable conclusion of what had become the best-case scenario before finally beginning to make their way towards the true last resort.

"We're sure she's their daughter?" Celestia asked. The words were not weary. The words had deliberately not slept in more than a thousand years, for every moment of rest would have produced nightmare.

Luna sighed. "I have viewed both their application and the records from the hospital. I suppose there is always a chance that Rapture could have gone through a brief affair which coincided exactly with the time of the application: I am uncertain as to whether --"

Celestia shook her head. "One thing about that spell -- it doesn't work on a mare who's already pregnant. The medical caster would know something was wrong. And if they'd come in for the birthing without the paperwork, then the doctors would have had to track down the pony who performed the working without the application having been filed..."

Luna's head dipped. The stars in her mane were dim, and the borders had not shifted since they'd entered the room. Neither mane was moving at all. "Then there can be no doubt. She is of their blood."

"Yes."

Technically, the working was known as Mytilene's Truest Love, but virtually everypony simply called it The Most Special Spell. It did one thing only, and it did it perfectly. Any two mares under its effect could have their own foal -- one which would truly be of their blood.

There were some flaws, or at least technicalities. The spell only worked on mares to begin with, for the biology necessary to carry the unborn still had to be present. (Attempts to create something for stallion pairings -- a working where the resulting offspring could be brought to term by a helpful mare --- had been numerous, and all had failed.) Any pregnancy which resulted from the spell would be normal, but those pregnancies didn't always happen: unless cast by the strongest, the working lasted only a single night, one where there was the same chance of a mare at the peak of her cycle becoming gravid as there was for any other method, and it meant repeated castings were often necessary. The resulting foal would always be a filly: anypony wishing a colt in the family would generally have to adopt -- and Celestia had watched slow centuries pass as the mare population within the realm gradually increased while wondering about the true cause of the tilt.

Unscrupulous unicorns had tried charging desperate pairings thousands of bits per casting. Some of those had no ability to actually perform the working: they collected bits, created glow, and fled. Others stayed just long enough to watch the conception attempt. Celestia had rapidly become fed up with all of it and made castings free, available from the government to married couples (or rarely, on up) after filling out a simple application -- but that application had to be filed.

She had been a little worried about the spell when Mytilene had first announced it, and that concern had been centered around disease. (The opinions of those who screamed about violations of nature had mostly faded out after the first hundred years.) There were problems of the blood which occurred only on the mare side of the population. If a mare who had those issues paired with a stallion, their fillies seemed to have a lessened chance of manifesting the same disease. Mare with mare... she had been worried about two sufferers finding each other and giving their offspring a seeming guarantee of blood-borne illness. As such, there was a health screening involved prior to casting, as much as magic and science would allow. Minimizing the risks.

If Joyous' state was truly from something in the blood, then the Releases had slipped through a crack nopony had known existed.

"Some diseases of the blood can be moderated," Celestia said. "There are treatments for a few which allow their bearers to lead normal lives -- they're just treatments which have to go on for a lifetime, Luna. Cures... nothing's been found which would be permanent. But if it's in the blood... there's still hope for her. Now that we have her parents here, there's even more ponies to inspect, conduct tests on... if anything, her odds have gone up a little. I could say the same thing about -- the other option, but..."

The younger's eyes were closed now. "Yes. We will reach that. But let us conclude with this portion first. Should it be in the blood, there is a chance still... but not a strong one. We could look for others who suffer from it, but... that also comes into the next part of our discussion."

Celestia slowly nodded. "What do you think about the ways it's manifesting? They all clearly have the same thing, but... from what you said, it's affecting their minds, and Joyous is rational..."

"I am guessing," Luna quietly admitted. "We are dealing with a condition never before seen, at least in this manner, along with a mark paired with a talent which nopony had previously manifested at all. But it seems to me that if the condition forces the intensification of magic... then at least in the sense of any deliberate actions taken by the mark's possessor, Joyous' talent is passive. She does not try to exude sex appeal. She does nothing to make herself more arousing. She simply is. The magic -- for whatever magic might be happening at all, which we cannot find on ourselves -- is thus free to go on at all times, regardless of her actual activity. With her parents... weather surveying is an action. Something which must be actively pursued. In order for the increased magic to find expression, those with the condition would need to be performing those actions. And so they are twisted from within, caring less and less about anything outside the range of their talent, doing nothing else unless it keeps them alive for the next display. They eat for fuel, they sleep for rest, they travel and arrange jobs because that is a minor part of their mark, at least for now... I suspect they would be offering services for free if there was no other option and, in a year or two, might have been found in a wild zone, happily chattering to each other as they surveyed for nopony at all. And for all intents and purposes, they forget that they have a daughter, for she is no longer hindering them by existing as a single additional thing to pack..."

Neither sister had their eyes open now. Positions were beginning to mutually, silently shift. "It's like falling. Only with no way to pull them out."

"Yes."

Falling into the mark: the most common psychological condition in Equestria. Nearly every pony went through a touch of it after manifest, spending some time being just a little too fascinated by new capabilities, and some just -- got worse. True falling took place when a pony stopped letting their mark guide their lives and allowed the talent to dictate. The majority simply never became interested in much of anything outside the mark's range. But for those who fell the furthest, the appearance of that condition... could sometimes resemble a lessened version of what the elder Releases had reached. Stay alive. Perform. Repeat. But with falling, a pony could be brought back by those who loved them. Full recovery for the deepest could take years... but it could still be done. And it never went as far as the Releases had gone.

"Which means," Celestia softly went on, "it may be almost impossible to find other cases, especially those in the early stages. Unless the doctors can isolate a factor which can be identified... so much of this is just going to look like falling. Find the common element in the blood or another symptom, and we can get them all together for study... but without that..."

"This disease," Luna quietly added, "may have been within our population for centuries. Falling itself might not be a condition of the mind, but one of the blood, and the disease has simply grown stronger with each generation..."

"Luna?"

"Sister?"

"It's bad enough already."

Which got her the faintest and falsest of smiles, unseen by closed eyes -- but felt. "Yes. Let us go through the lesser of the endings first."

It was time for that part of the worst-case scenario.

Celestia nodded. "A new contagious disease. Which we would have. We don't know how it spreads, if we've given it to others... but what we do know the onset time is gradual. Years."

"Of all those who could have first contracted it..." Luna softly said. "Where have they not been? Any portion of Equestria which they have not personally traveled to, those they have been in contact with would have reached. And -- you are overlooking something."

Celestia hadn't even remotely begun to overlook the small and potentially very final irony of what Luna had said, if 'irony' was even the right word: she personally felt the better fit was 'tragedy'. "What?"

"The onset time appears to be years for pegasi. How would it affect an alicorn body?"

The silence stopped all but heartbeats and breath. Those sounds would be the problem of another.

"I should have let myself be tested," Celestia sighed. "Centuries ago, and then over and over as medicine advanced. I should have found out everything about how our bodies work. If we knew... anything at all, anything beyond what we all figured out... but I just didn't want to be poked and prodded and sampled, and now..." But there was nothing to be done about that, and so the next part of worst stepped forward to take its proper order in the line. "Luna, if it's a case of active marks versus passive ones... ours are active."

"We could simply... find ourselves on our thrones," Luna told her, and the words which described the death of minds and souls were as gentle as any such could have been. "Not caring about the realm or our citizens or each other at all. Simply waiting for the next performance of our duty. Managing the burden. We would raise, we would lower, and we would remain alive. Perhaps during a moment of distraction, we might count down the time remaining or recite orbital velocities. New rulers would be needed -- but Sun and Moon would continue. For that if nothing else, the world would be safe."

"Or we might begin to make things move faster," Celestia whispered. "A gradual increase, one which wouldn't drain us -- but faster and faster over time, Sun and Moon whipping through the sky until every day and night were but seconds long..."

There were many things not said after that. Heat. Cold. Two new kinds of Nightmare as each half of the Diarchy decided her time was superior and had to rule over all. None of that needed to be said, for every possible form of sibling-created apocalypse was in both minds, and neither wished to hurt the other more than had already been done.

"But even for that, we likely have some time," Luna said, and there was caring in the words: there could have been nothing else. "You feel no such urges, nor do I. So, while we remain rational... let us discuss the arrangements. First, should we need to purchase additional days... cockatrice?"

Celestia wasn't seeing how that was going to help. "A shell of air-permeable stone with a little room left for ribs to expand -- but death would probably still come within a week, we've never exactly tested that, and while we were alive within, the disease progresses." Cockatrices liked their meat well-aged -- 'rotting' was the more appropriate word -- and in order to keep anything else from getting at it...

"But it would keep us from doing much of anything," Luna said -- and smiled. "A vacation, as it were..."

Celestia found a smile of her own somewhere, a weak specimen which had been cowering in a corner, hoping not to be noticed. It still proved up to the task. "True, but I'm not sure we'd be moving Sun and Moon either."

"We could test that." There was actually some mischief in the statement. "Who goes first?"

"We'll flip a bit. Rhynorn's Flu?"

They were still moving. Neither was fully aware of it.

"It is a disease of unicorns," Luna pointed out. "Neither of us have ever had it, and we have both been around those suffering from it. I suspect we may be immune. Again, this could be tested. Deliberate infection... which would purchase us about two weeks per bout of illness, at most. Only one at a time: somepony still needs their field fully available. But it only affects fields... not marks."

"Still..." It could at least slow down their ability to do anything with the increased urges.

"Still," Luna nodded. "When the time comes."

And then they were at the heart of it.

"When?" Luna asked, and deferred to her sister.

"While we're still rational," Celestia said. "We'll hang on as long as possible, but we have to be capable of performing the action without hesitation. Without turning away because we're thinking about something which we've decided is far more important..."

"It was always the last resort, was it not?" Luna quietly asked. "But until recently, you had no guaranteed way to make it work. Not without a new sextet of Bearers. We did not know what would break the prison and that method might not work again, not with the bindings having been renewed."

"I thought about it," Celestia gently told her. "While you were -- away. When a war was at its worst, if I thought there was a real chance of my death. That nopony would maintain the cycle. When Cadance... her magic is still so different, I'm not sure if she can and the pain the first time she tried, I couldn't force her to keep going... Luna, the way she screamed... But she would do it, if she could. I always knew she would make it work, if her magic allowed it at all. She would force herself through it, for the sake of the world. Except that..." Cadance had been exposed. The false last resort blocked.

"But he has not."

"I'm not sure he can even become sick. Flesh and blood is a choice for him, I've always felt that. And I've still been afraid to try calling on him for Joyous, because... he would think it was funny. He wouldn't help, or he'd just make things worse. He might spread the disease everywhere for the sake of the resulting chaos. And that's if... well, if we thought the chance of her talent operating on the shadowlands was bad..." They both shuddered. "And because... even if somehow, some way, we actually managed to convince him to help... it would have been pointless. We both know..."

Luna sighed. "The gap in his powers. Yes. We exploited it once. And now it works against us: I am certain he would appreciate the irony. But he still has all of his other abilities, and he demonstrated most of them during his brief release. He remains capable."

Celestia took the deepest breath of her life. "Then we're agreed."

Luna did the same. "Yes."

They had started the talk facing each other. Now they were not. Both bodies had begun to shift across the floor during the early part of the discussion, had continued to move throughout. The sisters were now parallel, mere hoofwidths apart.

"If there's no cure -- if we have the disease and it's certain that it will lead us to the point where we'll only destroy..."

"...we gather the Bearers. We give them an excuse, any excuse at all. That we need to question him on a matter, or perhaps we feel there is a possibility of reform." That produced a short, bitter laugh.

"They release him..."

"...and we turn the world over to Discord."

Their bodies pressed against each other in the dark. Feathers meshed.

"They'll hate us," Celestia said. "We'll be history's greatest traitors. Every generation to come will curse our names, any nation which partially survives his takeover spreading the tale of ultimate betrayal. But they'll be alive to hate us. He won't destroy everything, any more than he did before. He needs his audience..."

Luna nodded. Whispering, "The insanity... and here we are, at the point of wishing it on others. As the best thing we could ever grant them for our final legacy. After all we saw others go through, their losses, their pain, and... our..."

Pressing tighter now.

"They'll live," Celestia gently reminded her. "Some will."

"The damage," Luna said, and she was not talking about anypony, anyone, or any nation.

"It'll start building again," There was no help for that. "Maybe he won't have all that long to make it worse. They were healing... you felt that the first time you took it back, how much further along it was. It took... time for him to make things as bad as they were, at the point when we got control. I don't know how much time... that part of history is so clouded... but maybe... it won't accumulate too much. And as long as he controls them, they'll still work."

"We will need to hide the Elements," Luna realized. "Seize at least one immediately after the release, place them where none will make the discovery for a while. Buy him time. And as for... the rest..."

Celestia sighed. "I think we can get him to kill us. I wish I could say I was sure. He doesn't... repeat himself too often." Those words had barely emerged. "He might also think leaving us alive to do damage was funny, at least for a while. But if we can't provoke him that far, there's always the cockatrice..."

"It would be appropriate, would it not?" Luna proposed. "Statues for his garden."

"I remember the garden."

"Yes."

"It was..."

"Yes."

"Or... Luna, do you remember --?"

And the voice which answered was not entirely that of her sibling, who had always been skilled at imitation -- and that was not the whole of it. "'-- a triple corona around your horns. One strike each, a single moment of hard, sharp contact. Simultaneous. The backlash will hit -- and that will end it. Mutually assured destruction. If you two ever need it, for any reason... remember that. If there's nothing else I can still give you in life, then let me at least grant you the gift of a death...'"

Celestia smiled. Part of it was in thanks.

"I miss her," Luna said, and there was too much in the words.

"I do too."

"Will we see her, do you think?"

"Oh, yes. In the grass of the shadowlands. The family of our blood first, I think, because they've been waiting longer. But... right behind them, the family of our hearts. And I'll see... I'll be with..."

Luna's face pressed against Celestia's neck: the elder angled her eyes into the younger's mane.

The time required for the tears to stop might have been time they didn't have. But it was still necessary.

Finally, "There is one more detail, sister. One more... hope."

"Anything you have, Luna. Anything at all."

"Your student. If all turns towards the worst, until we know it can and will not do anything else... When we summon the Bearers, when we steal the Elements... we cannot come into contact with her. At all, ever again. She must remain untouched."

Celestia sighed. "It probably would have been time to bring her in for consultation, wouldn't it? But you're right... we can't directly expose her to anypony who might have been affected. Right now, my one consolation is that there is no disease which affects ponies and dragons. I don't think Spike's a carrier, but..."

"I walked within that dream, sister: there is no need to visit it again. But that is not what I was referring to. We can reach out to her in time from afar, if we must. We cannot let her know the full extent of our final plan... she would fight it and in doing so, perhaps keep it from being fulfilled. I meant..."

Luna swallowed, and a single extra tear flowed.

"...your other plan."

Celestia blinked.

"You've been yelling at me about that for nearly two years."

"Yes." A statement.

"You have protested every single step of the road."

"Yes." Fact.

"You have called me unreasonable, cruel --"

"-- among other things. Yes."

"And now you're supporting it."

"From this point forward. Even if it is in the blood, even if we find the cure for the disease. Yes."

"...why?"

"Because... she is the last hope. The only one on that specific road, the one we understand best, if that word can be applied to 'just barely'. The pony who matched us the most closely, whose situation could be likened to ours... whom the Elements might respond to. And with that potential additional factor -- you thought there was a chance..."

Celestia sighed. "I thought a lot of things. I don't know half of them. I was guessing, Luna. We spent decades together trying to backtrack the process, work out what the Elements were thinking. It took years just to remember any real parts of the talk, or that there was a talk at all. And then..."

Her own tear now, and she felt the nature of the mane it hit change, giving it something to soak.

"...I had time -- alone... I kept thinking about it, because... there were so many reasons. I know who she is, Luna. I know who she isn't. But at the same time... it felt like the chance was there. And part of it was... before you Returned..."

"...there was one," Luna quietly finished. "For centuries, there was but one. Cadance... her change must have lifted so much of the burden from you, knowing there was at least the chance of another once again. But she may share our doom..." there was shame in the words now "...and we should not dismiss her from our plans. I have been thinking of but two, when it should have been three all along. But... there must always be at least two, Tia, whenever possible. And if there cannot be two, when we have just found proof that even three may fall... the number should never be zero. Not for long."

Celestia nodded, but only slightly, for she refused to take her face away from the soft mane.

"You'll help me?"

"If I am able. But it is her road, and I am not among those who accompany her on the journey. Let us say... I will no longer consider standing in the way. There are still no guarantees that she will finish, but... the Elements are around her. The rest may happen. And it is cruel, sister, it is pain, it is something which I never would have gone through if not for the needs of the world -- and without you beside me. If I had been alone and possessed any level of choice while knowing what was to come... I would have gone through the change and wished for another all the while, a wish where I already know the thousand-year price..."

Both weeping now, with the smaller shaking, eyes squeezed shut as if they never wished to open again.

"I believe in your plan," Luna whispered. "I believe in the need, if perhaps not everything you felt had to go into the choice. To Discord, we give the true last resort..."

"In Twilight Sparkle," Celestia whispered back, "we place the last hope."

They stayed in the dungeon for some time after that, making lesser preparations, thinking of other things to be done in what time might remain while recommitting themselves to the fight which still could render every plan unnecessary. All except one.

The last words said before they left were "I love you."

And perhaps they had been said by each sibling in turn. One or the other might have spoken them first, or a chorus could have formed.

Ultimately, that did not matter either.

Electripus Complex

She yelped as the needle went in, and the stab of pain prevented her from noticing the gasp and sudden increase in sweat within the coat of the stallion whose field had just delivered the little wound. The followup low level of muttering to herself blocked her from hearing most of his increasingly rapid breaths, as did the drumbeat of her forehooves repeatedly hitting the examination table (or rather, the three which had been pushed together to accommodate her), with the latter sound maintaining right up until the needle was finally withdrawn -- at which point, it ended in a single heavy slam of impact.

"How much more of this are we going to do?" And with that frustrated exclamation, her head jerked to the right, angry eyes staring at the pony who had been inflicting her torment -- just in time to see all four of his knees bend by another eight degrees.

"There's... six more," Chocolate Bear just barely managed. "I still need to collect some hoof shavings, and get a -- feather sample, standard mantle and one flight --" and he stopped. His own gaze was now fixed on the table's newest dent.

"Six more."

Which eventually produced an extremely unsteady "...yes."

"A real six or a 'I just thought of something I missed when I said six' six?"

His garment was nearly soaked through. "...eight."

Her teeth ground. "Eight."

"...maybe nine." And before she could react to that, "Princess, I know it's a lot, but with no medical history for either of you, we have to start everything from scratch. We should only have to do the full round once, unless things -- change."

"Or you happen to remember something else you wanted to do."

"We're only doing what's necessary," the surgeon insisted. "We're trying to make sure the two of you haven't been infected, we'll have to do this with Princess Cadance as soon as possible -- and it's all part of trying to save Joyous and her family. It's -- doing the needful."

Her neck dipped low under the weight of frustration, leaving her head resting on her tightly-pressed forelegs. "Just get it over with."

A brief silence, just long enough for another, very close, rather loud sound to fade enough for any further discussion to take place, and then, "You know, I've had --" and this time, it was the dead stop of a pony who'd been accelerating into full gallop and had just seen the cliff less than two hoofsteps ahead.

"Had. What?"

He swallowed.

"You're going to say it," she told him. "We both know it. So just save yourself some time and --"

"-- I've had fillies and colts deal with this better than you have," he told her, and the hoof-shaving blade vibrated within his shaky field.

She sighed. "And I suppose you were expecting a Princess to be the calmest of patients, without a word of protest or complaint, who possibly couldn't even feel pain and would never admit any she did --" another pause, and they both waited for the echoes to die away "-- would that be correct?" And before he could answer, Celestia irritably continued with "Yes, there is such a creature as a perfect Princess who both nobly and silently bears every hurt in her life, and she's generally found within the less-skilled grades of fiction. However, as I would hope my sister and I had recently established, Dr. Bear, you? Are currently dealing with a pony. A pony who has been dreading this exact thing for a very long time, who has done everything she could to avoid it over that same duration, who, when it comes to medical examination and the taking of sample after sample after sample, has possibly talked herself into becoming just a little phobic over it, and is exactly as happy about having to finally submit to poking and prodding and needles as you'd probably guess. I'm currently trying not to gallop. For the sake of Joyous and her parents, for the good of Equestria, and because we all need the answers which I'm hoping these tests will provide. But I'm also trying not to fly, or teleport, or melt the needles before they can go into my skin. And incidentally, I've had to display my true mane more times in the last two weeks than in the last century, which is actually a rather minor thing compared to everything else, right up until it starts to feel like the straw which overloads the hay bale, and --"

Her cutoff was only partially voluntary: she'd meant to stop there before the verbal flow drifted into even darker currents, but the thunder had shoved its way in.

The stallion remained silent well beyond the final echo.

"Doctor Bear?"

"You're right," he quietly said. "I was assuming. And it is a lot of needles, and... Princess, it's just that... you're right. Back at our old hospital, I saw doctors stop treating ponies as -- ponies. Especially the older ones. Vanilla had his reasons for leaving, I had mine for going with him, and our friendship wasn't exactly the least of it. But part of it was because I got sick of hearing all the little defensive jokes about the sick ponies we were treating, and seeing how some of the most senior physicians couldn't meet anypony's eyes any more. They just saw cases, or studies, or -- bills to be collected. But I was looking at you, and I saw -- a Princess." A long moment of nearly-silent loathing. "No, it's worse than that. Part of me is seeing a case study. Because we are the first in -- a very long time -- to get a chance at finding out how an alicorn body works."

"Doctor," she quietly said, "I understand necessity. Perhaps better than you might guess. But there are some things --"

He spotted the look in her eyes, the tiny vibration in the feathers. "-- Princess... you would get it from just about any doctor. We're mystery solvers, at least for the best of us. Vanilla may joke about how the only way I ever learn anything is through cutting, but that's how surgeons get treated in general, and... I don't want to hurt you. I hate that this puts you in any pain. But we have to learn. That's the necessity. And because that necessity is leading to something so unique..." He sighed. "I want to help. I wouldn't have this mark if I didn't want to help. But it's very hard not to be excited, at the chance to learn. And... I'm trying to see a pony, I really am. But..."

She softly finished for him. "...but you have a lifetime of Princess in front of your eyes."

The soft brown lids briefly shut. "Yeah. A lot of lifetimes. And --" talking faster now "-- it's like there's thousands of questions I want to ask, questions I almost feel like I could ask, and so many of them feel like foal questions, but... some of them are things you have to find out about from a patient. And others might even go to a Princess. But... for a pony, even when real medical needs become involved, some of them are going to sound too personal. Invasive. And when it's you... Princess, I -- don't know how far I can go."

She forced herself to complete several deep breaths. Two of them were interrupted.

"Say what you must. Ask what you feel you have to. If I feel it's related to the problem, I'll try to answer."

"And if you feel it isn't?"

"You'll know when the needles start melting."

"Oh."

"That was a joke, Doctor Bear."

"...oh."

"Incidentally, when you're finished learning what you can, we're going to talk about the security measures necessary for your notes."

"I understand."

"And when all this is over, you'll destroy the samples."

"Yes."

"Especially the mane and tail hair ones."

"...yes."

"Use acid. They won't burn."

"...yes."

And they listened to the next sound.

"So," Celestia asked, "how did the two of you decide who would examine each of us?"

"Random number guessing. Vanilla's horrible at it. Does -- Princess Luna always set off lightning somewhere when she's stressed or pained?"

"Not always. Just -- frequently. Does your partner always faint when he's trying to repress his own panic?"

"Not always," Chocolate Bear eventually said.

"Really?"

"Just... frequently."

'She has to.'

Luna hadn't been sure about that, and still wasn't. There were many things for which secrecy was naturally best, others where it had to be enforced -- and still more where the truth would do more damage than lies ever could. Bringing the doctors into that near-highest level of confidence... with most ponies, that situation would have generally rested within the third category, and she still wasn't entirely certain that it wouldn't wind up there at some point, especially after all the needles, even if a pony she'd personally had to revive three times might not seem like all that much of a threat.

But for Joyous to be told about her parents... that seemed as if it too might reside inside that dreaded third category. Because there were times when the truth did indeed set one free, and others where it did its best to irritate the base of her own horn before the restraint was ultimately removed -- but sometimes, the truth simply hurt, and Joyous... had enough to deal with already.

She'd argued with Celestia about that, and the discussion had gone on for longer than it should have, with each questioning the other on their motives: if they were being truly neutral with their respective judgments, if every decision was influenced either by the pheromones or their attempting to deny that effect by going too far in the other direction. In doing so, they spoke about Joyous as a victim, and in her perpetual role as problem. And in doing that, both missed something vital, and neither one would recognize the missing element until it was too late.

They reached an agreement after a time, although it was a shaky one, filled with second guesses, outlined by third hunches, and accompanied by a full fleet of fourth through tenth wild suppositions. And so in the end, they took Joyous aside and told her... not everything, because that seemed to be more than she could bear. But the journey concluded with them taking her up to that one-way glass, and showing her the two mares sitting behind it.

The brilliant yellow eyes stared, and the sisters allowed the pegasus to do so in silence.

"What are they doing?" Joyous eventually asked. Her voice seemed far too soft.

"Filling out an employment history," Celestia said. "It's taking a while. The doctors have to keep going in and reminding them of how necessary it is for their newest job. But as we told you, we need to know everywhere the three of you went."

"Because... the doctors are trying to figure out where we all got sick," Joyous quietly repeated.

"Yes," Luna carefully agreed. "This is why we need you to delve into your memories, Joyous. To think of the very first time when it seemed as if their affection had begun to diminish, for when compared to the records of their travels, there is a chance that we may be able to isolate --"

"-- so they could have given it to me?"

It had been quiet. It had been remarkably even. It had been all too close to a statement.

They both stared at her.

"There are scenarios where that's possible," Celestia eventually said. "But Joyous, we need you to focus on --"

A problem to be solved. A victim to be rescued. And in the limitless bounds of their mutual nightscapes, they thought of her as something else entirely. But it meant that the sisters had made the same mistake.

"...and..."

Neither of them had spent any real time thinking about Joyous as a pony.

"...I could have given it to you?"

And they had just learned she wasn't a stupid one.

They were still staring at her. At the trembling in knees and feathers, the too-short breaths coming far too quickly, the moisture coating those yellow eyes...

"Joyous," Luna urgently said, "do not fly down that air path. We know nothing of how this condition spreads. It is possible that it is in the blood, that nopony can be affected unless they are born with it, and even then, palliatives may exist. And should it be a disease, there may be no natural way in which a pony could transmit it. In fact, there is no cause for believing that merely being near you could inflict the problem upon another. There are no other ponies in Equestria who have currently been identified as having this issue, and the Doctors Bear were very clear in their explanation as to how unlikely that would be if the condition could spread at all. You have no cause for concern. We are being tested, we have experienced no signs --"

"-- they wouldn't test you unless they thought there might be something to test for," Joyous whispered, and the tears began to fall. "Unless they thought there was a chance --"

"-- it's precautionary," Celestia hastily cut in. "They're doctors. Any excuse for a --"

"-- please." And it had been pleading. "Please... don't lie to me..." She looked to each in turn, and the tears fell for both sisters. "Not about this..."

Shivering now. Tail curled against the left side of her body, covering that mark. Head barely held aloft, body seeming to shrink. And neither could approach to comfort her.

"...it..." Luna said, and found that when it came to the creation of a cloaking, reassuring, life-mending falsehood, the single word was all she had.

Joyous forced her head up again. Yellow eyes on dark blue, Sun asking for truth from the night.

"Princess Luna... please..."

Luna took a slow breath, felt Celestia doing the same, and wondered how to best stop any attempt at suicide.

"...it... is unlikely," Luna softly replied. "The doctors are only testing to make certain it is impossible. So that all our fears may be put to rest."

"Which means you thought of it too," Joyous whispered, "or there wouldn't be something to be afraid of."

Her head went down, then came up to a normal level. She slowly turned, stared through the enchanted one-way glass at the two grumbling mares who were thoroughly sick of the stupid forms and just wanted to go out and survey already. The obsidian tail twisted with pain.

"Joyous," Celestia carefully said, "we're closer than ever to solving this. Having them here is a vital hoofstep. And there's no proof that Princess Luna and I have been affected. We thought about it, yes. It... was hard not to think about. But --"

"-- I'm going in," Joyous quietly declared.

Both sisters blinked.

"To see your parents?" Luna unnecessarily asked. "But -- they will --"

"-- they'll what?" It was the first time they'd ever heard her laugh, and the bitterness still carried a touch of beauty. "Expose me? Get me sick? I'm the only pony here who could wander in and out of there as much as I like, anytime I want to. The best case is that I'm the only pony anywhere who could do it, right? So I'm going in. Because they're my parents. And you can't stop me."

They could. They had dozens of ways of doing so, and that was just with keeping it within the options which would do no physical harm. And yet both watched as she turned, slowly began to trot towards the door...

"Joyous!"

The beautiful face, every elegant line etched in misery, glanced back.

"Your talent!" Luna gasped. "When you affect them -- if they --"

"They won't." A simple statement.

"You cannot know!"

"They never did," Joyous quietly stated. "They couldn't. They were... already obsessed with something else..." And went around the corner.

The sisters switched to staring at each other.

"If they make one move," Celestia urgently said.

"We teleport in and get her out," Luna concluded. "And no more."

With open disbelief, "So we're letting her do this?"

"Apparently," and the word was not as dry as Luna would have wished. "Since you are moving no more than I."

"Why?"

"You know why, sister. Because we can bring her out. And..." Luna forced herself to look at the glass. "...because she must do this."

Each stood in place, trying to keep their breathing steady. Both watched the mares. Both saw the trembling blue body nudge its way past the door, which didn't quite close behind her: sound leaked out. And since the filter spell was no longer active, it was all they saw: a trio of metallic pegasus mares, two older, one younger, and not the cloud which even now had to be spreading into the room...

Joyous' eyes closed, opened again with great effort. "Mom?" To Rapture, who had carried her. "Dam?" For Pleasant, whose exuberant signature had covered much of the Most Special Spell's request form.

Neither looked up from their excruciatingly boring paperwork.

"Please..."

Garnet eyes shifted. A head turned.

"Oh," Rapture said.

Neither sister could breathe.

"See if they have quarters for you," Rapture continued, every word bearing the same level of total disinterest as the first. "It's a palace: I suppose they'll have space to put you up. You've made your own supper?"

Joyous began to cry. And Rapture went back to her paperwork.

Pleasant glanced over at her spouse. "Who was that?"

"That was..." The green pegasus frowned. "That was... I think... help me out on this line: where were we eight years ago?"

"Where weren't we?" Pleasant laughed. "Come on, you remember that little dust devil breeding ground we spent two moons trying to permanently untangle! After all the times you had to redo your tail?"

"My tail? Like your mane wasn't carrying half the dirt back every night!"

They both giggled. Neither paid any attention to Joyous' weeping.

"Tricky bit of surveying there," Pleasant smiled. "You remember now?"

"Yes. But I wanted to hear you say it. How much of this do we have to fill out? Can't we just scribble some random stuff down and get out there, like we did on the last few jobs?"

"We could..." Pleasant considered. "But it's the palace. They'll check. And I don't want to take a chance on not getting to survey for the palace! Just keep going."

And then she sighed.

"I'm thirsty," Pleasant said. "Is there any water in here?" She looked up, glanced towards the door...

"Water," she told Joyous, and the tone made it clear that the salt rendered the tears unsuitable.

Joyous nodded once, turned, and slowly trotted out.

Behind her, as the weight of the door gradually brought it closer to closure, "Rapture?"

"What's up?"

"She..."

"She who?"

"...is she... older?"

"The Princess? She's older than anypony, except her sister. That's why she had the experience to choose us!"

"No, I... I meant... so, that gets us to eight and a half years back..."

There was a soft click. And then there were only hoofsteps, and light reflecting from a metallic blue coat.

"Where can I get them some water, please?" Joyous asked the sisters, and the tears streaked dark tracks into her fur.

"Joyous." Luna was having trouble hearing her own voice. "That is enough. Do not go in there again, please. There is only so much we can ask you to bear --"

"-- it... wasn't them."

They had expected a whisper. They would have been surprised if any real volume could have been mustered at all. But neither had expected --

"Joyous?" Celestia's turn. "They're your parents. We tracked them. There aren't any other ponies who qualify --"

"-- it's... not what I meant, Princess. I wasn't talking to them. I haven't..." More tears fell. None of them changed the new note in her voice. "...I haven't spoken to them for a long time, have I?"

"Joyous, you must tell us what you are thinking," Luna said, as gently as she could, for anything so harsh as insistence directed against the fragile pegasus felt as if it could break. "Without your words, we cannot --"

"-- I was talking to a disease," Joyous softly answered, and the tone in her voice was the same. "A disease which doesn't know me, or care about me, and can barely remember me at all. A sickness in two pony bodies. It was the disease which didn't come home when it promised to. Illness never picked me up from school, or took me there on so many new first days. Something which isn't my parents. Which never was."

She managed to look up at them then, and just for a second, her expression matched her tone.

"The disease doesn't love me," she said, "because it can't. But... if they're cured... then somewhere under the disease... I still have a mom and dam. I always did. They just can't get out..."

A hesitant, uncertain, fearful joy.

Elder looked to younger, and for one moment, their thought was the same.

"We will do what we can," Luna promised again. "For all three of you, now. To -- free you..."

Celestia nodded, and Luna knew her sister well enough to understand that in that moment, without the ability to press tightly against trembling feathers, offering the comfort of presence, it was all the elder could do.

"I'm -- going to go write some things down," Joyous carefully said. "What you were talking about. So you can compare it, and maybe..." She began to trot away --

-- stopped. Glanced back.

"I won't hurt myself," the pegasus said. "Or... worse. You need all three of us. The worse it might be... the more you need us all alive. So all I'll do is write things down, and -- anything else which might help. As long as there's a chance. Okay?"

Both managed a nod, and nothing more. Joyous left.

The siblings stood in front of the window for a time. Watched the increasingly bored attempts at mouthwriting.

"Sister?"

"What is it, Luna?"

"What do you think she would have been like? Without the disease?"

A long moment of thought, and then, "I don't know. If they hadn't gotten sick... it changes too many things, Luna, and her mark probably would have been one of them. All we can do is try to help the pony who's here now."

Still watching, but only in the sense that their eyes were oriented in that direction. The actual visions were somewhat more -- inner.

"I believed her. When she said she would not harm herself."

Softly, "As long as there was a chance..."

"I am aware. And so we must do our best to create one."

And now both could only see what no longer existed.

"When she said..." Luna began, "that a disease cannot love..."

"I know." Purple eyes closed, in exact concert with blue. "I thought of our father too."

"Tartarus-chained horse apple smear flying feather excuse for a --"

The thing flew past Celestia's snout, not so much interrupting the stream of invective as putting a final exclamation point on it. She glanced towards the bright hue, felt her eyes widen slightly, and then turned her attention to the physician who had just kicked the thing into the hallway -- and, having looked out to see where it had landed, noticed her in turn.

"-- sorry, Princess."

"Forgiven," and she managed a smile. "That's not an uncommon reaction in the presence of that product, Dr. Bear. Actually, the fact that it's not currently in existence as free-floating scraps actually shows a high degree of restraint, along with an unusually resilient sample. And I'd normally ask what's wrong, but I just saw it go by. Was that for one of your ideas?"

"One of the more crucial ones," Vanilla sighed. "We need that. Or at least, we need something which actually does what the manufacturer implied it can do. But I went down to the company myself --"

Celestia briefly frowned. Yes, they're still in Canterlot, aren't they?

"-- because I didn't want to risk using it with Joyous until I'd gone through a trial gallop. So I got one for me, and -- split seams, a split viewport, shedding material every time I breathed, and I couldn't even get it over my mane!" The light blue field ignited, carefully smoothed the mass upwards.

With an inner smile, To be fair, Doctor, that last portion may have been your fault. "It's a common complaint. Too common." Except for the mane part. Most manes would actually bend under pressure. "So -- I believe you just said this is crucial?"

"Yes," Vanilla groaned. "If it had worked. Which it doesn't. And I don't even know where we'd start looking for a substitute, with no other manufacturers..."

"Doctor?"

"...Princess?

"There are certain... benefits to working for us." And with that, the smile made it all the way out into the open. "And if we're going to be frank with each other, there's a part of me which has been wanting to do this for a very long time..."

"Gentlecolts!"

Everypony working on the manufacturing floor of Hoovmat Suits Limited instinctively turned around at the sound of the well-projected, powerful, happy mare voice. In three cases, the movement put noticeable holes in the material they were working on, but that was fine: the business always needed extra goods for the frequent Ponyville shipments.

"It's so nice to see you all today!" Celestia beamed. "Frankly, I've been meaning to visit for some time." Her field deposited the last of the overwhelmed (and very stupid) security force back in the office area, moving them out of sight behind the opened double doors. There was a soft sound of impact. "To see exactly how you work, because it's a fascinating business, really it is, and I just thought it's the sort of thing I had to see in order to appreciate --"

Nopony was moving now, at least for those who'd been working on the product. Only one set of hooves could be heard, pounding quickly towards the back exit --

-- Celestia's field lanced forward, and seconds later, a huffing earth pony was deposited in front of her.

"Mr. Hoovmat, I presume?" she smiled.

He went with his instinctive response. "Let me see your warrant."

Celestia elegantly raised an eyebrow. "Warrant? I'm not in law enforcement, Mr. Hoovmat -- well, technically, I do put in some time as a judge now and again. You might remember Garleek Ramshead's trial. Or not. But at any rate, I'm simply dropping by your company as a customer. To speak about your product."

He stared up at her. Celestia smiled down at him -- and did her best to loom.

Mr. Hoovmat swallowed.

"My product is... legitimate."

"Yes," Celestia smiled. "The source of many legitimate lawsuits." She began to trot down the center aisle, glancing from rusty machine to hard-sparking device. Frozen ponies watched her as she passed, her field towing the company's owner behind her at low skid. "Or at least so the ponies who keep taking you to court seem to feel. But you're on something of a winning streak there, I understand, especially after adding your most recent disclaimer. A brilliant move, really. The costs to print a few extra words are so much lower than those involved in repair or improvements, much less fulfilling promises... oh, dear, let me vent that for you..."

Her field twisted a valve. Three devices passively postponed their final breakdowns for another two weeks.

"My text," Mr. Hoovmat said with the confidence of a pony who'd gotten through his last twelve civil cases with no more than negligible court costs (which hadn't been paid until the fifth notice) and some very funny stories about the customers he'd suckered, "is legally sound."

"Oh, very," Celestia agreed, listening happily to the little scraping noise his hooves were making against the floor. "Hoovmat Suits! The full-body, head-to-tail covering which will keep you safe in wild zones! Not a strand of fur exposed to contagions! Until you move. Or breathe. I understand that just thinking about breathing is occasionally enough to start splitting seams, although that generally seems to apply to the Ponyville shipments, and yet I know of a certain trio of mares who continue to swear by you, because they are terrified of being without any protection at all and there's really nothing else, especially with your -- shall we say, aggressive approach to stopping competitors, or so the rumors claim -- just rumors, really..."

"Rumors don't hold up in court," said the increasingly confident pony.

"True, true..." Celestia smiled. "But still, somehow, you're the only manufacturer, despite the obvious opening for somepony else to go against you, much like all the obvious openings in your suits after ten minutes of use. It's to be commended, really. Hoovmat Suits! That distinctive yellow color! That one-of-a-kind rip pattern! And when ponies on wild zone expeditions get hurt, so many use their time in the hospital to finally read the fine print and see that the protection which they thought was being described is mostly implied. And you can't be sued for what ponies imagine -- well, not in a way where you lose, correct?"

"Correct," Mr. Hoovmat said with the air of a pony who'd just decided he'd won. "So if you're quite done --"

"-- and what does the fine print say? That the protection is in the color. Bright yellow, Mr. Hoovmat, just like your coat! And it's meant as protection against other ponies, because that's a rare hue to find in the wild zones, very rare indeed, and so any other pony out there will see your customers in their suits and not instinctively attack!" She briefly held her breath as she moved through a cloud of foul-smelling steam. "Which is a true benefit, I would never argue that! Ponies can be very jumpy in wild zones and having something to instinctively not react to -- it's a good idea, really. It's just that... well... when you're covered in bright yellow, to other ponies, you're a beacon of Don't Hurt Me. And to monsters? Also a beacon, which generally comes across as Open Package To Access Flavor. And still, because of your disclaimers, you've been safe -- but you still added a few more words, just a couple of moons ago. I saw them in your latest catalog, which took the best magnifying glass I could locate. And they are brilliant words." She stopped, turned to face him -- and batted her eyelashes. "Would you mind saying them for me? Please? I do so love hearing the work of a genius."

And before he could stop himself, the pony who had just gone through his first brief sliver of doubt in nearly a decade said "'For Entertainment Purposes Only.'"

Celestia smiled.

Her horn's corona went double. Sunlight intensified the factory's shadows, made some of the steam glow, glinted off the sweat in worker coats.

"Amazing," she declared. And loomed. "Do you know what's even more amazing?"

"The fact that somepony, even a Princess, has barged into my facility --"

Her field jerked the owner one body length closer.

"-- I just inspected your entire plant," Celestia quietly said. "I'm no expert on devices: I admit that. But I was happy to see that the old ones were still around -- dusty, unused, unmaintained, but present -- from when I originally visited your great-grandfather. Oh, he was a pony of vision, Mr. Hoovmat. He understood that it would take extraordinarily careful effort, time, dedication, and craftsponyship to create a truly protective garment. And the first generation of suits -- they weren't perfect. But they were on their way to the goal -- and then he died, and his offspring simply rode the reputation he'd been so carefully crafting. Into the ground. Cut corners. Don't run the good devices: they require recharging too often and who wants to pay for the thaums? But don't throw them away either, because hauling things out can take time and money, and besides, they help you keep up appearances. Don't follow his more advanced designs because that takes thought and effort. Don't use good fabric because that costs bits and you want to keep your profit margins as high as possible. Don't do anything except rely on a never-ending supply of the conned right up until the moment it does end, and you're getting very close to that point, Mr. Hoovmat. I give you four years at the outside, because ponies do talk, the majority don't purchase on faith more than once, and it won't be all that long before you're down to just the Flower Trio, and they're not enough. You could gear back up to your great-grandfather's standards within a day or two, if you were willing to invest in repairs and recharging and fabric which would hold. But you won't, even when you go down at the last. Because you're cheap, and lazy, and selling what ponies hope for from you is just too much like work."

He flinched at the filthy word, and Celestia smiled.

"And yet," Celestia told him, "I'm here today as a customer."

A bubble of sunlight went over his head, drifted behind the doors. After a moment, it came back bearing a scroll.

"Ah, here we are..." Her field unrolled it, presented it to eyes which generally refused to see anything which wasn't personally owned. "Exacting measurements. Precise requirements. And the first of that latter requires you to repair, recharge, and refit your great-grandfather's devices. This group of Hoovmat Suits will be made according to the notes for his final prototype, the one your grandfather was too enamored of his own bits to ever put into practice, a not particularly proud family tradition which you continue to practice in the modern day. You are about to make a Hoovmat Suit which would do your Founder proud -- whether you like it or not."

He was beginning to cower within her shadow. She kept smiling.

"You can't... you can't threaten me..." he eventually tried. "The palace has no right to --"

"-- I? I'm here to purchase, Mr. Hoovmat. There are standards for palace behavior, yes: well-known ones, or at least frequently-believed... but I would never threaten you."

"Then --" he unwillingly glanced at the scroll "-- are you kidding me? That's barely three percent over margin, with the repair costs included! I'm not outlaying that amount of bits for a one-time purchase when nopony else would spend that kind of money! Oh no, Princess, no way in Tartarus! You can't threaten me, and you can't make me sell to you, so all things considered, you can release your field and just get out --!"

"-- you really don't listen very well, do you?" And in that moment, her voice was only partially her own.

He seemed to have lost the ability to blink. The little jaw drop more than made up for it.

"I'm not threatening you at all," Celestia peacefully told him, and stomped her right forehoof twice.

Nopony along the manufacturing line was willing to try moving. Nopony wanted to be the next target. Which made the hooffalls coming down the center aisle into something entirely new.

Slowly, reluctantly, Mr. Hoovmat glanced backwards, and immediately wished he hadn't.

"I don't believe you've met Princess Luna," Celestia smiled. "Not that most ponies would be expecting such a meeting at her personally rather irritating hour of noon. Incidentally, did you know that she was responsible for nearly all of our nation's early tax code? Most ponies don't. But she's just that good with numbers, and that? Is why she volunteered to go over your books in order to help you with your upcoming audit. Because you do cut corners, Mr. Hoovmat, in every place you can, and it seems that one of those places is in the full and accurate filing of your taxes. Really, who could have discovered that among your numerous forms? Other than her. After about twelve seconds with your most recent return. I'm sure a good accountant would have been able to get away with calling your last escort hiring a business expense, but it's not as if you were willing to pay for one any more than you're capable of hiring legal representation because it's so much cheaper to stand in for yourself. Princess Luna, as you insisted, please go ahead and begin assisting Mr. Hoovmat in the free and proper formatting of his ledgers. The real ones."

The shivering stallion looked from one sister to the other, over and over. Celestia released her field from his body, and he didn't move, for there was nowhere to go. "How... how did you know I had another set of --"

"-- I didn't," Celestia smiled, and began to trot away. "I'm stepping out for an hour. Or two. Unless I happen to hear any screaming start, in which case, it may turn into four, possibly six. Good luck with your account balancing, Mr. Hoovmat. And please do consider fulfilling the customer order I just presented you. Because frankly, in my opinion? You're about to need all the bits you can get."

They were reading. One to a group of papers, calling out their comparisons across the narrow gap as they rested within the Lunar Courtyard.

With the parents... they had done their best to rush, but after hearing the bit of leaked discussion, Luna had gone to them and in near-chorus with the Doctors Bear, she had carefully, openly, and repeatedly noted that she needed a complete work history. It had come in time, along with the extra forms required to hold all of it. As their daughter had told them, the Releases had moved. A lot.

Under one of the other hooves, Joyous' mouthwriting was... lacking. It had been a long time since she'd had anything to write down at all, much less a cause for doing so, and the years of neglect had eroded her skill. The sisters found themselves squinting at various symbols as Equestrian offhoofedly mutated into something closer to Ancient Crystalia, along with making extra efforts to make out anything where the ink had been blurred by tear stains. But other than in legibility, she had done her best. She had made every effort to remember that first hint of neglect -- and then after writing that down, had recalled another. And another. And another.

But eventually, the trails seemed to intersect, and both stared at the results.

Luna slowly shook her head. "And thus we catch ourselves in a lie."

Celestia sighed. "We wanted him to have a reason for why she was so skittish around him, Luna. So we planned that if he asked... that would be the excuse. That he was her first."

"A question we did not ask her," Luna wearily replied. "We have been rather unskilled in seeking our questions, sister. We both knew that when Joyous fled from her home, the vanishing was reported to law enforcement -- and neither of us asked who filed the paperwork, not until after her parents were brought to us..." It had been a teacher, and both were hoping it had been out of simple concern, with neither truly believing it.

"But she told us," Celestia quietly observed. "In a way. That they even went beyond Equestria sometimes. And ponies are hardly the only species with a need for weather surveying, who hire experts..."

Cautiously, "You believe it is possible, then?"

"Yes," the elder heavily said. "Strongly enough that we have to investigate it, with Joyous writing down every additional memory she can recover along the way. And in some ways, it makes things worse. It could explain why we haven't seen this before: there haven't been enough chances for exposure. We only know our own wild zones, and that can be little enough about them so much of the time. For the rest of the world... how many ponies truly venture within when abroad? So if it's exposure to something unknown, with no other way to spread, it improves our chances of their being the only ones affected. But at the same time, we're going to have less of a clue about what to look for than we did before -- which nearly leaves us going below zero -- and very little knowledge about what to beware of. Plus it's been a long time for both of us, Luna, and just going will draw attention -- with no real way to keep the trip fully private."

"And yet," the younger said, "we will go. Yes?"

Celestia nodded. "As soon as the suits are ready and Cadance's tests wrap up. I don't want to travel without having those factors in place. But in this case, we need the extra time. Alert your staff -- it's going to take both Solar and Lunar to make these arrangements."

Luna grimly smiled. "And to keep control of whatever chaos might result while we are both away with our own country knowing it. Let us hope it ends with something worth returning to... You will contact him?"

Celestia stood up. "Right now, in person. It's best he hears this from me. You start on the letter for our embassy: I'm flying over to his."

Get ready, Torque.

They were heading for Mazein.

Kama Bulltra

The minotaurs cheering and applauding as they watched the Equestrian delegation proceed down the assigned parade route, moving through the capital city, slowly making their way towards Embassy Row and a temporary chance to get their hearing back because not only did minotaurs truly bellow their cheers, but nearly all of the visiting ponies were in the middle of their first wrenching experience with the sounds that could be produced by minotaur strength added to cupped palms... most of those minotaurs didn't pay all that much attention to the metallic blue pegasus mare quietly trotting next to the junior Princess. For the most part, they had no true experience with metallics, and many did not know they were looking at a particular rare specimen of pony. Mazein had a pony population of its own: some transient, the expected number at the embassy, and a few thousand who'd resided in the distant land their entire lives, mostly the descendants of families who had found a reason to change homelands and the children who had remained in the place they knew. A few thousand: perhaps not enough for a metallic to be born more than once every few generations, if that trait was in the local blood at all. They looked at her, yes, and those minotaurs who'd taught themselves to see beauty in a pony form did register how attractive she truly was. The native ponies who lined the route -- and had every pony in Mazein come to the capital to see this, to see something no local had truly witnessed in generations? It seemed they must have, and stomping hooves added an extra beat to the noise -- well, some of them tilted their heads, took somewhat longer looks, two had whistled -- and then they returned their focus to the pony next to the mare, because there was something more unique to behold.

That surprisingly-overshadowed mare, however, the one with the completely motionless wings... was paying attention to a lot of things.

Occasionally, she would turn towards a building, or at least the upper stories of them, all stone and metal and marble and anything else which would last, as minotaurs favored truly durable materials and, of necessity, extremely high ceilings. Sometimes she would glance up at the alicorn on her left. But most of all -- she looked at the minotaurs. Not because she'd never seen them before: there had recently been the ambassador (twice, with the second meeting carefully supervised), and long before that, an extended work assignment which her parents had taken on, naturally bringing their daughter along for the duration. But because she could look. Because they cheered, and applauded, and nothing more. And so the look of amazement dominated her face at nearly any given moment, staring at the tall bodies, and the ponies clustered at lower (and higher) levels, the few representatives from the other species who also claimed residency -- all of them simply watching her in her very minor role as a much lesser part of the parade.

Of course, there was a certain problem with that, and Luna was having a hard time keeping up. Some of those looks of amazement were slightly -- off. The beautiful head would turn, and the mane would naturally follow. Features would change expression. Just... not exactly when...

There were cheering, applauding minotaurs (and sundry), and Luna strongly suspected that most of the cheering was simply due to the fact that there was a parade. A parade the siblings hadn't exactly wanted -- but one which had become inevitable at the moment Mazein originally learned of the impending visit, for Celestia had not truly visited the distant nation in generations, and for Luna... there had been abeyance. Their ancient ally was determined to welcome them, and the locals were equally determined to listen to the marching bands, gaze at the giant balloons which occasionally tried to break up that din for thirty or so body lengths at a time, and bring their hands together in exactly the right way to shatter pony eardrums.

(There was a balloon immediately behind them. Luna had no idea why it looked like a giant mug.)

She was starting to get a headache. And that was before she accounted for what Joyous was doing to her.

Luna glanced down.

Her voice was carefully pitched to get through the noise, reaching the closest ears and just about nothing else. "You are... looking at things. More than a few things. Just about everything."

"I know!"

She could hear the emotion in that exclamation. Anypony could have, if they had been close enough to make it out within the din. And it stopped all the words which had been yet to come.

"It's amazing!" Joyous declared, and it felt as if the words were about to carry their own tears. (Did she need tears? What was going to be involved with tears? Flow patterns down her features, twisting with every move, and then there was the change of hue as fur absorbed moisture, how would that look with a metallic, and reflections from the water, the way it caught the early-morning light...) "Princess, I know it's... not real yet, not really real, but... I haven't... I haven't been outside and..."

A catch in her voice. Yes, crying. And crying from something other than the purest of pain.

"...thank you," Joyous said. "...thank you, no matter what happens. Thank you for just... being outside..."

The headache was starting to intensify.

"You are quite welcome," Luna smiled, and endured.

On her right, Celestia regally trotted, nodded to the crowd, smiled at ponies who had never seen her and minotaurs who only applauded all the louder. Around them, Guards and other delegation members marched, including two who were not Guards at all, but were simply wearing the associated armor because it was the easiest way to explain their presence: teleportation between Equestria and Mazein was, at best, a twice-daily proposition, and so all potential trips had needed to be reserved for true emergencies. Everypony who needed to come along had come along, and that left a thin white unicorn body stumbling under the weight of Solar protection. (His mane was having no trouble with the helmet, other than in carrying it halfway above his head.)

The minotaurs along the parade route... they had no experience of alicorns, but they knew ponies, and so the truest stares of amazement were reserved for the Diarchy. But for a few of the ponies in the delegation, the newest hires... a few had very little experience going the other way, and from the conversation taking place just behind Luna's tail, it seemed one had absolutely none.

"Yearrggh..."

"What's with you?"

"What are those.... things? Those mounds on their upper torsos? Under the -- shirts? Oh, no... that shirt's missing a scoop. I can see... I see part of her..."

A long, slow sigh. "They're called breasts."

"...they're all pregnant? Right now? Every last female here is pregnant or nursing? How fast do minotaurs breed? None of them look -- okay, that one is, but they've all got... do they just have their first calves before they even get out of school and then they nurse forever... how much milk do they need? I know their babies are bigger than ours, but Sun and Moon, that's just --"

A hoofstep went up, came down out of rhythm: Luna's guess was an aborted facehoofing. "No. They just -- have them. All the time."

Disbelief mixed with a desperate plea to hear any degree of negation. "All the time."

"Starting from puberty and then for their whole lives. You've seriously never seen the females?"

"No, I... I.... Yearrggh..."

And Joyous just kept staring. Not specifically at the source of Yearrggh...: she was used to that. But at everything. Everyone. Everypony.

Luna's headache was... really getting bad now. She glanced down --

Joyous smiled at her.

Smiled.

-- and looked up again.

"Luna?" Her sister was giving her a very practiced side-eye, accompanied by a careful whisper, one which barely budged the smile on her lips as she continued to greet the crowd. "Are you okay?"

This pitch was meant for her sibling's ears alone. "It is... like trying to fly by directing the movement of each individual feather. But I am managing. How much further to the embassy?"

Trying to be reassuring, "The front of the parade is probably going past it now. Just hang on, Luna."

"And... how long is the parade itself?"

Failing to be reassuring, "There's eighteen balloons ahead of us, twelve marching bands, and nineteen floats. You do the math."

The process was automatic. So was the groan.

The properly-sized door opened for them, and they stepped onto, if not exactly Equestrian soil, then at least Equestrian flooring.

"Welcome, Princesses!" Ambassador Vaquero smiled. "To our little piece of legally-home in Mazein. Is there anything I can get you? Refreshments? May I show you to your quarters? Have the staff --"

"-- headache medicine," Luna firmly ordered.

The earth pony winced a little. "I know, Princess. I've been there, although never from the center of it. But the parades can be -- a little loud. The politics are worse, but the parades..." She managed a smile. "Well, the politics are later, and it's a private meeting to start with. I'll send out for -- oh, is this Joyous?" Who had held back slightly, reluctant to be inside again, and thus sent Luna's headache into a single sharp spike. "She looks good! Perfect! I didn't think anypony could do that, but Princess, you're just making her look --"

"-- is the embassy safe?" Celestia carefully interrupted.

The ambassador nodded. "Everypony here has been cleared."

"Good. Get everypony inside, please. And then close the door, along with all the curtains."

It was done. Joyous stayed close to Luna, watching the no-longer-buried winces traveling across the dark fur. "Princess? Are you --"

"-- I am ending it now, Joyous. We are on our own land, at least in a legal sense. We are isolated." And the next words were true. "I am sorry that I must, but -- I must end it now. Please understand."

The pegasus' eyes closed, about two-tenths of a second after they should have. "I understand, Princess. And -- thank you. It was... it was the best thing that's happened in a long time. No matter what happens here, whether the two of you find something to help or not, I... had a whole parade of being outside, and..."

"Again..." and she had to force the smile past two kinds of pain, "...you are quite welcome."

Luna's eyes closed, opened. And metallic blue had been replaced by a singular shade of yellow.

Joyous stared up at her through the clear little window at the front of the Hoovmat Suit. Her fully-enclosed wings failed to rustle. (It was impossible to construct clothing which went over feathers and did not sacrifice at least some degree of flight, and the need to make the joints airtight had only worsened the problem. In the end, it had simply been easier to keep Joyous grounded, and hope that nothing occurred to give her cause for takeoff.) "I should probably go up to my quarters. The filters must need changing soon, right?" Luna nodded. "Okay. I'll see you both later." And she trotted towards the ramp which led to the upper floors, with some bounce still present in the fabric-covered step from the recent memory of having been happy.

Luna waited for her to get out of sight, plus ten extra heartbeats for the sake of safety. Ordered the rest of the delegation to seek their own temporary quarters, waited for those ponies to depart. Put embassy staff and ambassador to welcoming them all, preferably in the far corners of the building. And finally, with the welcoming room cleared of all but the sisters, sank to all four knees and softly moaned.

Celestia immediately dropped down next to her. "Luna?"

"Covering the suit in a realistic simulation of a pony body," Luna half-whispered, mostly to keep her own voice from hurting her ears. "Simple enough. The metallic aspect of her fur? I have been in her presence more than enough to simulate it. But to keep that coating moving with her, through every little step and catch, pause and acceleration, and making it match her face as she gazed all about her, my field wrapped about her body to catch every little nostril flare, every blink, every word she said made to match on the mirage of a mouth, and keeping that up as she was doing it in real time, or as close to it as I could come, and doing it all through a fully hidden field while trying to account for any distortions that might create in the magic... Sister, illusions have always been among your weaknesses, and just as high among my strengths. But... in real time, over a living body that was not my own... it has been... some time. And it is not that I am out of practice: it is simply that one reaches a point where no practice will help. Should the parade route have been another three hundred body lengths longer, I feel I might have slipped. And if her wings had been freed..." That was worth a shudder. "As it happens, I am simply hoping that everyone and everypony around us was caught up in the parade."

"They only saw what was happening in your coating," Celestia assured her. "Not underneath. They had no way of knowing if the timing was off."

"I suppose," Luna slowly considered. "But it is still somewhat embarrassing, to have fallen behind."

"Luna, nopony else in the world could have kept it up for that long. I'm proud of you. And -- I can think of a few other ponies who would be just as proud. Remind me -- what's the best kind of illusion?"

That put a tiny (if still pained) smile on her face. "'The kind where nopony knows there was ever a trick at all,'" she quoted, and regretfully let the imitation go.

Celestia nodded. "Just one thing, though."

"Yes?"

"Why did you do that?"

Luna would have normally tried to force some degree of visible innocence. She couldn't seem to push it past the migraine. "Do what?"

"Let her march with us at all." And the tone made her suspect the elder already knew the answer -- and yet the question continued. "The parade started at the edge of the city, when we pulled up in the covered carriage. You could have memorized the location, left Joyous hidden there with the Guards who were watching the transports, and teleported back for her when we reached the embassy. You practiced short-term coverage before we left, in case of emergency. But this wasn't anything close, Luna. We prepared to use illusions in case of crisis, not parade. So... why?"

There had been a great deal of preparation. Making sure to whatever degree they could that Equestria was safe, and they could be contacted in the event that it was not. Calming the fears of all those who felt their temporary departure guaranteed disaster. Extensive testing of the Hoovmat Suits (Revised). And the illusion, in case of that unknown emergency. Not parade.

"You know," Luna said, and wished to leave it at that.

Her sister wouldn't allow it. "I know I want to hear you say it."

Luna sighed. "I wished -- to give her a gift. Because we may not succeed. We have reached the larger scale of our destination, and currently possess no means of narrowing the range. We may fail, sister, we may still fail and..."

Three slow breaths. All of them hurt.

"...I wished to give her time outside, without threat. Of being looked at, and treated as if she was... normal. A gift that... I know the cost of seeking too dearly, freely given, without price. Is that so wrong...?"

A moment of silence, and then her sister's right wing arced across Luna's back.

"You haven't changed," Celestia quietly said.

A small head shake, and everything from the neck up twinged. "I have. I -- accept more than I once did, with full awareness of the price for not doing so. But it is not wrong, to wish for others what I cannot have for myself. It is not, and I will not allow even you to say --"

The wing curled, pulled her in.

"The best part of you hasn't changed," Celestia told her. "And I missed that, Luna. I missed you so much..."

"And -- I you..."

They nuzzled. The nuzzle meant for family. And, after a time, each reluctantly pulled back.

"Very well," Luna said. "Allow me some time to recover, for whatever is required for the onset period of the dosage: I am sure we have at least that much before we must depart, and it will also allow the parade time to disperse. And afterwards..."

The elder sighed.

"We go and formally present our lies."

To understand Mazein, you needed to understand something about minotaurs.

It had been generations since Celestia had last trotted through any major portion of the distant nation's settled zones, and minotaurs -- well, their culture was fairly stable. Their constructs were not. Ponies often had trouble accepting innovation: minotaurs not only embraced it, they fought for it. Their magic was not suited to creation, other than through getting the materials into the workshop in bulk. Their hands were, and so minotaurs built. They invented. The first camera had been made by minotaurs, along with the first movies, pure chemistry and machinery in action -- but a partnership with ponies had been required to create the magic which had led to the talkies. (Unfortunately, as such sound recording workings had been designed to accompany film, they worked rather poorly when separated from it, and thus the dubious syllable-count storage which characterized each generational device of note-taking Minders.) Travel Track had invented the concept of train: a minotaur had looked at his designs and quickly sketched out the concept for a mechanical rail spike driver, which had cut at least five moons off the total construction time. Minotaurs loved to rely on their own bodies first and foremost, let their strength drive them happily forward into a world which wasn't always ready for the jovial party to begin -- but bodies contained minds, and so most saw nothing wrong with having a few helpful gears and springs assist in clearing the path.

So visitors to Mazein would see things as they gazed out the windows of the private carriage. Two legs pushing against pedals, a huge body delicately balanced on an extremely reinforced bicycle. Traffic signals which changed not through magic, but by clockwork. Innovations being tested, and should something fail? Get up, brush away the debris, and try again.

To that extent, the society changed, because that was what minotaurs liked. But if you understood something about minotaurs...

They passed houses, always made of the strongest materials: Celestia offhoofedly noticed that black ironwood was starting to become a popular source, although it didn't quite allow for the same level of columns and crenelations which the species often seemed to possess a mild addiction to. And in front of each house -- would be another house.

It would not be very large. For the newest families, the scale would be perhaps one to one hundred: for the oldest, one to ten. But it would be perfect. It was often in better shape than the residence behind it. Miniature doors would open, water flowed through tiny pipes, every doll-sized device and machine would operate as it should, if anyone was somehow in a position to activate them. They never did.

They passed things which had been tied up for security: minotaurs knew a way to weave metal into long, flexible cords. But always cords. You could travel all of Mazein and, but for those rare occasions when their machines gave them no other choice, you would never see a chain. Some citizens would wear nose rings which hadn't been attached to anything in centuries, both a statement and quiet shout of dare. I control myself. Never you. If you want the proof, just try to seize this.

They passed statues, and the shadow of a stone whip fell across Celestia's face, for minotaurs would not allow themselves to forget. To forget was to chance having it happen again. And she looked at those statues, as she had looked generations before, looked at the stone-captured images of those who ripped the whips apart, and still there was nothing for the one who should have been remembered best of all.

If you understood something about minotaurs, you would start to understand their government. Why it functioned as it did, why they'd gone with such an outwardly-insane form and somehow made it work. Because a long time ago, there had been whips, and chains, and screams in the night as children were pulled away from their parents because work was needed elsewhere, and slaves could hardly be expected to have a say in what happened to the fresh source of labor they'd been ordered to produce. But... those who cracked the whips were attempting to enslave minotaurs. They had found their hold, they kept it -- and then their grip had been forced open. The hands (adapted paws) which held those whips had seen fingers bent backwards, heard bones shatter. And no minotaur had ever been a slave again.

But they remembered. They remembered what it was like to scream and have no one hear. And so, when the time came to form a government of their own, they had decided that everyone should be heard. Always.

They had created a personal madness, and called it democracy.

It had taken some time to refine. In the modern day, there were requirements: citizens had to pass an intelligence test, a general knowledge exam, and get through one of the world's most exhaustive sanity checks. (The knowledge exam was repeated every two years, to make sure everyone was current on the issues. The sanity check requirement had been rejected by Equestria's Day Court time and time again, mostly due to the representatives' fear of having it take out most of their voter bases.) But once that was done, any minotaur of any age (along with all those who had citizenship in their land) would be granted the right to vote. And when there was a matter of policy to decide, any at all, those who were interested would gather in the huge meeting places, the logeions, and they would debate. Argue. Have reasonable discussions of points and counterpoints which, because it was minotaurs doing the discussing, often led to some degree of wrestling match, where each combatant was expected to immediately forget all hostilities at the moment the pin was verified. Then they would vote. And here in the capital...

"It is... bigger," Luna softly said.

"There's more of them now," Celestia said, and automatically smiled.

Simply, "Good."

The building rose in concentric rings, each new layer a little wider than the one below. There were columns, and crenelations, and the arcing windows they both remembered of old. (The same windows: minotaurs built things to last.) It rose a dozen stories into the air, wider than a hoofball stadium at the highest level, and when there was truly a matter worth voting on, one of national importance -- every qualified living citizen of Mazein who could reach the capital would gather at the Logeion to play their part in the Senate. For all had a voice, and so all would go to express what they saw as their most fundamental right. The right to have that voice heard.

And next to the Logeion...

Luna stared at it for a while.

"And also bigger," she quietly observed as the Skênê went by. "But that is only to be expected."

Celestia silently nodded.

In the Logeion, the living cast their votes. The Skênê, one-fifth the size, was for the dead.

Minotaurs did not worship their ancestors, not in a way which could be viewed through the lens of religion. But they believed that the deceased were never quite gone. The world was for the living -- but the dead were welcome to watch, and perhaps occasionally provide a whisper of advice. They swore on their Ancients, sometimes swore at them if the relationship hadn't been particularly solid. Built miniature houses to host generations of departed family, knelt quietly in front of them and asked those they had loved for guidance. Those in truly desperate need might travel all the way to the first battlefields and request the knowledge of those who had freed them. Few claimed to have truly heard voices, and... there were times when Celestia had a hard time believing they had heard anything at all, even silent whispers which arrived in the soul as a burst of intuition. The shadowlands were the shadowlands, and...

...but they believed.

And thus the Skênê, where the dead could invisibly gather to silently debate, argue, and execute some particularly fine intangible pins while working out the finer details of a policy decision. The Skênê, which actually had a role in the government -- something which had made Celestia laugh with delight on the very first night it had been proposed to her, and still put a smile on her face in the modern day.

For should the entire nation of Mazein, every last citizen with their voice heard and nowhere else to turn to, vote to a tie -- the decision of the Skênê would break it.

(It had never happened. Minotaurs were practical that way.)

Of course, the thing about having a government based on letting everyone speak was that it required someone strong enough to enforce order on the process. A voice loud enough to be heard over all others, one which could moderate the debates, require speaking in turns, break up the biggest fights and, after someone had their own voice properly heard and just kept on going to the point of drowning out all others, a voice which could effectively make someone shut up.

Mazein had a role for such citizens, although it was a hard one to hold onto for more than half a generation. A role -- and a special place.

The secretary led the sisters through the curving stone corridors which made up the edges for the lowest level of the Logeion, back to the little office. It really wasn't necessary. They both remembered the way. And the big wooden door opened, they both stepped inside...

"Referee Moonsault," Celestia politely greeted the huge minotaur sitting behind the desk, where she was overshadowing just about all of it. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Rounding Moonsault stood up (which blocked out about a third of the available light) and casually strode around the desk. She extended a giant hand, then slowly curled the fingers in. Celestia raised her right forehoof and carefully bumped the knuckles. Luna followed suit, and the current Referee returned to her place.

"Celestia and Luna Invictus," she casually said. "How very -- unexpected."

Luna blinked. The Referee didn't miss it. "Something wrong, Princess?"

Her sister went with honesty, although not necessarily all of it. "I have -- not heard my full name in quite some time. I was not aware that anyone still knew --"

"-- oh, it's written down somewhere," Moonsault smoothly interrupted. "A lot of things are, if you know where to look. So, first of all... welcome to Mazein. And Polis, of course, welcome to the capital as well. And Princess Luna, welcome back to the world: I know I had a letter sent in the usual pouch after we finally found out why sunrise was delayed for a few hours and stopped preparing for -- but never mind that, at least for a few minutes. Did you enjoy the parade? It took some work to throw together, especially on something less than two weeks' notice, but you know marching bands: just hint that there might be a chance to beat on drums in public and you'll be turning them away across the border. Every border. Which we've had some requests for, mostly from those marching with them. And I'm sure you found your accommodations comfortable, as they happen to be at your embassy, at least for now. I understand from Ambassador Power that you intend to do some touring. Which leads to the natural question."

And she stood up again. Stared at them. Staring down.

"Why?"

There was such a thing as a minotaur con artist. Thieves, criminals, artists of the lie verbally weaving perfect falsehoods. But for the most part, they tended to be direct.

Celestia prepared her own lie to come out under Sun.

Casually, "Why what?"

"Why are you here?" Moonsault asked. Not demanded: asked. Admittedly, it was a fairly fine distinction. "You personally haven't been here in a hundred and ninety-eight years. Not on tour. Oh, you've popped in from time to time, I understand, more or less literally: a teleport to your embassy and then a flight to the Logeion if Mazein truly needed to speak with you in person. You'd stay an hour or two, maybe a night at the most, and then you'd be gone. The last of those was a little over two years ago, as part of your personally delivering an explanation for the worldwide panic which understandably resulted when Sun happened to be late. You were here for about ninety minutes, and didn't answer anywhere near as many questions as my predecessor would have liked, which may be part of why he's now my predecessor. And now you're back, with the pony whom you told us was not ultimately responsible for so many financial markets nearly crashing entirely because economies tend to self-destruct when a few very influential and somewhat panicky individuals look outside their windows in the morning and see that it's still night. They tend to sell off during such situations. Loudly."

Luna winced. That was the outer reaction. Celestia suspected the inner was a lot worse.

"Now, we're allies, Mazein and Equestria," the Referee continued. "And we've been allies for a long time. A lot of things are written down somewhere, Mares Invictus --"

-- and she sighed.

The big body seemed to deflate slightly. The head dipped, and horns shifted accordingly.

"-- including a few hints which suggest that without the two of you, Mazein wouldn't exist," she softly finished. "I respect that. And, to a fair degree, both of you as well. But we put up with a lot, the other nations, every day, in the name of having an 'every day'. Knowing that Sun and Moon depend on Equestria. On one pony, and then on two. Most citizens don't think about it, and that's a good thing. Knowing how -- fragile things truly are... isn't a good thought to have every day, and I'm going to stop having it a little after you leave my office, plus maybe one more nightmare. The ones a lot of sapients had on the night after Sun didn't come up when it was supposed to. The ones a few of the more easily scared are still having."

She felt it before she saw it, so attuned to her sister's reactions as to sense the vibration on her right.

Luna was starting to shake.

"Stop." It wasn't an order: it couldn't be with a non-pony. But again, the distinction was fairly fine. "Stop, Referee Moonsault. This isn't the time or place, not in front of --"

"-- let her speak." Luna's words were soft, and the lack of volume let all the vibration through. "We are on their soil, sister. They speak. They are heard. That is their law. And... she is only saying what many would say. Have wished to say for over two years. So... let her speak."

And with open anger, the air around her feeling as if it would be so easy to burn, "Luna, she's --"

Just above a whisper. "-- familiar in her approach, is she not? Very... familiar..."

The younger took a step forward. Looked at the minotaur.

"Speak," she said, and waited.

A slow nod. "The Nightmare. What was it?"

Luna's wings tensed. Feathers trembled. "An -- outside entity."

Celestia was fighting to keep her head up. To stay calm, to not see the room through a haze of fire. Luna never talked about it, never wanted to talk about it with anypony other than her, shouldn't be made to --

And, forcefully, "What did it do to you?"

Luna's eyes closed. Her knees bent. Celestia's eyes automatically pinpointed the single best place on the minotaur to spear with her horn.

"Burial," Luna whispered. "Internal burial. Among mirrors. I..."

"Stop." It had been a shout, and the familiar little office just barely held the echo. "If you keep hurting her, I swear if you say one more --"

The papers on the desk were starting to smoke. Rounding Moonsault glanced down, mostly with vague disinterest. "So that's true. Charge me if you're going to, Invictus the elder. I don't have one more. I have two, and if you want to stop them, you'll have to kill me." And before Celestia could move, "Where is it now?"

And Luna's agonized response was "Dead." It was the only word that could apply.

The final blow against beaten body. "Could it happen again?"

"Not... not to me. But... there was the one, only the one-in-many, and... we do not know if there are others. My sister searched and never found another. It may have been singular, the last of its kind. Or she may have never found the proper wild zone, or portion of chaos terrain, perhaps one of the deep places... We do not know, Referee Moonsault. We only know what to watch for --"

"-- and you never told anyone else?"

And Celestia's corona, which had been on its way to a full double, abruptly dimmed.

The smoke dwindled. Slowly, too slowly, the office cooled.

"We put up with a lot," the Referee said. "We really do. But I think -- not on official behalf of Mazein, although I'm pretty sure everyone would follow me in the vote on this -- we are entitled to know what we have to watch out for. What could happen here. To me, for that matter, if a new one decided to make a move on our nation. I know this hurt you, Princess, and I don't like hurting you. I'm looking at your sister's face and I know part of her is considering shattering every treaty we ever had. But imagine how much it's going to hurt an entire country if it happens here."

All Luna seemed capable of was the single nod.

"You have Moon. She has Sun. And all we have... is this. So please... brief me," Rounding Moonsault said, and there was no distinction between that and begging. "As our allies, if we're still allies after this... keep us safe."

Luna closed her eyes, inclined her horn towards the floor. After a moment, Rounding came out from behind the desk again and sat on the old stone. As Celestia watched, Luna sank down besides the minotaur.

And talked.

They were back in their original positions, with Luna having just finished her requested water, trough removed. She had not told the Referee everything. But she had said everything required to -- keep them safe.

It had hurt. It had been pulling the bandage off the wound in one go and ripping out most of the fur underneath, along with some of the skin. But there were times when the best way to clean the wound was to let it freely bleed for a while.

"Thank you," Rounding Moonsault quietly said.

Her sister's eyes were still too narrow. "I understand why you did that."

Placidly, "Good."

"I understand it was necessary."

Calm. "I thought you might have figured that out."

Luna could easily guess at the thought lurking in purple eyes, which was likely something along the lines of 'And the next time Mazein needs tariff or trade talks, I am going to take you to the bucking groomers.' The actual words emerged as "Is there anything else?"

The minotaur nodded. "Why are you here?"

"In Mazein?" Celestia asked. It got another nod, and the prepared lie was triggered. "My sister has spent some time adjusting to the changes in Equestria. But it's a big world, Referee Moonsault. There are nations which now exist that weren't around before -- abeyance, and those which crossed the full gap have changed. We have a calm period in Equestria right now -- so we agreed it was time to go and see a few places, the new and the old. So we'll stay in Mazein for a while, if you'll still have us. And the next time we get an extended outbreak of calm, we might head somewhere else."

"I can accept that," the Referee said.

"I'm glad to hear --"

"-- I'm pretty sure you're at least half-lying to me. But I can accept that, unless I find out you're lying about something big. It's less perittómata távros than I get from most of the other nations." And before either could respond to that, she shrugged. "It just feels a little weird, having Torque follow you home. Then again, with both of you here, it's not as if he has much to do in Equestria, so he might as well take a vacation and have some decent home-grown cherimoya for a change. And there's worse bulls to have as your tour guide. Personally, I thought there was at least some chance you were trying to get some time off from the press: we just got a shipment of some newspapers from about a couple of weeks ago, and I'm really not sure about you having supposedly 'used the tax system as a personal weapon of vengeance against the small businesspony.' So --"

There was a knock at the door. They all glanced in that direction.

"What?" the Referee directly said.

The next blow caved the door in.

Sections and splinters of ancient wood were strewn across the floor. And on the other side, the hard-snorting bull was completely ignoring the pieces which had gone into his hands.

"Moonsault," he snarled. "I challenge."

She stood up, and very quickly.

"Your current number is twenty-nine, Rake." The big shoulders were starting to tense. "Twenty-eight others go before you, one every six weeks. But you won't have to worry about that, because you just failed your sanity check. What are you doing?"

"I challenge the old way!" he roared, stepping over the fragments. His gaze was fixed, oddly glassy: he didn't even seem to register that there were two alicorns in the room. Muscles pulsed, swelled, seemed to become a little larger with the loss of every extra drop of blood. "I challenge not by debate, but by strength! I challenge, Moonsault! You answer!"

"There's something wrong with you," the Referee very accurately said. "And if it's -- no, your eyes are -- Rake, what did you do --"

The bull charged.

It was something the siblings had learned the hard way: over a long stretch, four legs would always win: over a very short one, two had the advantage. Few things in Equestria moved faster than a minotaur who only needed to cross a few body lengths, and this one roared as he moved, seemed to teleport across the distance, Luna's horn ignited on instinct, her corona brightened and --

-- she yanked Celestia out of the way. Pulled her sister into her, nearly went down from the sudden (and impressive) weight against her side, the bull's horns were lowered, he was going directly for Rounding, whose arms were coming up and --

-- she had him. One hand on each horn, the tips grabbed just before they could penetrate. And now there was new blood, dripping from palms.

"Referee Moonsault!" Celestia called out, visibly trying to get her bearings back as her own corona ignited. "We'll --"

"-- no! Challenge! You can't interfere! He's mine!"

She was one of the biggest minotaurs they'd ever seen. Huge. Her muscles bulged, her hooves fought for purchase and ultimately braced themselves against the back wall, she learned forward and snorted and pushed with everything she had, the seams on the sleeves of her blouse beginning to give out from the pressure of the strength beneath --

-- and he was forcing her back.

He was smaller than she was: they'd lost that in the initial sighting, too focused on shattered door and bleeding hands. He didn't have as much power. And he was forcing her back. Her spine was nearly against the wall. The horns were getting closer.

A unicorn's horn would spear. Those of a minotaur would gore.

Her grip was slipping, her palms too slick with blood.

"Challenge," he grunted. "Challenge..." As if it was the only word left.

"...and you just failed the intelligence test," Rounding Moonsault told him.

She smiled.

Her body dropped.

Her legs went out from under her, hooves kicked forward into his legs even as her arms went up, lifted him as she used the horns to curve his head forward and down, her strength inverting the bull until --

-- his horns simply scraped against the old stone wall.

The back of his skull hit a lot harder.

He grunted again, just for a moment. And then her arms went forward.

She sat still for a few seconds, breathing hard. Bleeding fast.

"...okay. I think... I think you can do something now..."

They slowly trotted closer, towards the remains of the desk and the downed bull on top of the fragments. Luna got there first. "Allow me." Her corona ignited.

"What are you -- Horns of the Ancients, that's cold! My hands --"

"-- it numbs the pain and slows the blood flow. I have done this before, Rounding Moonsault. Frostbite will not occur. But you need a doctor, and stitching. We will take you to one, but you will have to guide us: we do not know your city and have no teleport sites other than the embassy."

A slow nod. "And bring him. Something's wrong. I thought it was..." She shook her head, hard, as if trying to dislodge an idea. "He's never been the brightest and he's too stubborn for his own good, but for him to call an old challenge, it's like he was..."

Celestia had reached them. "An old challenge... Just be glad you knocked him out, Referee. I know what the other option was."

"But he wasn't thinking," the minotaur said. "Old challenges are illegal now, unless you can get it overridden by vote. And he doesn't have the backing. I know that. He should have --" and blinked. "I saw his eyes. It was like they were covered in glass. I've never seen that before. But it's in the eyes, and..."

"The directions to the hospital," Luna reminded her. "Quickly."

"No," Rounding said. "Not yet. Can you flip him over? Carefully."

Luna, not quite understanding the reason for the request, still cooperated with it. The bull was turned over, closed eyes now unable to regard the old ceiling, suspended within her field --

-- and Celestia saw it first. The glint in the shadows.

"You had papers on the desk. All the lighting's overhead. No drinks, no mugs..."

Rounding looked down. "No glass."

She knelt down, reached under his slow-breathing, touched the tip of a bloody finger to the thin tinted concave yellow dome, which was just the right size and shape to go over a minotaur's eye. And then she straightened, with her other hand moving towards the bull's face. One eyelid was pried open: the orb beneath was normal, if somewhat glassy. Then the other, and --

"-- Ancients gore it!"

Every blood vessel in the eye was swollen. Capillaries seemed on the verge of rupture. The natural yellow was almost entirely lost.

"Red-tinge," the Referee muttered. "Get us in the air, sisters Invictus, and I'll guide you to the hospital. Because this idiot needs it more than I do. And make sure they treat him first."

"Your hands --" Celestia began to protest.

"-- his life!"

Each sibling took one: Celestia got the Referee, Luna levitated the challenger. And they flew towards help, for there was nothing else they could currently do.

It was calm in Equestria, surprisingly so, enough that the trip hadn't ultimately felt like that much of a risk on its own.

Perhaps not so in Mazein.

Voyeurism

Celestia looked through the little window in the hospital ward's door, and could not find the minotaur on the bed. All she could see was doctors and nurses moving around the area: mostly minotaurs, two ponies, and one extremely out of place griffon. There was no room left for her line of sight to reach Rake -- but by shifting her gaze a little lower, she caught a glimpse of the metal cords which had been looped around the bed frame.

Tying him down. Making sure he couldn't move. Something minotaurs would only do to one of their own in an absolute crisis. And she could not see his protests -- but she heard the bellows, and the repeated impacts of that bed frame against the floor as he writhed, making the whole thing jump.

Bellows were all there were. He had gone to a place which existed long before the dawn of speech, and no longer remembered how or cared to find his way back.

The bandaged hand touched her left shoulder.

"Don't," Rounding Moonsault softly said. "There's nothing you can do. Unless our doctors find something while he still has time, there's nothing anyone can do. Watching just makes it worse."

Celestia slowly turned, and the Referee stepped back to give her room.

"How are your hands?" It was the natural first question, along with being something else they could talk about, if only for a few seconds.

It produced a sigh. "Forty-one stitches between them. He shaped the edges of his horns -- gave them ridges. It's an old trick, and..." A surprisingly small shrug momentarily broke up the words. "...that means you're probably familiar with it."

Celestia nodded. "But you'll heal?"

"In a few weeks. Where's your sister?"

Another natural question. "Sleeping." Luna, unwilling to teleport back to the embassy, had requested use of the on-call room and was currently occupying most of the lone bed.

"I didn't even know she could be awake during the day," Rounding quietly offered. "Not for this long. You hear stories... that Sun burns her, that she can only come out at night if she wants to live at all. But they're just rumors, and stupid ones: there's been enough sightings of her under Sun to disprove everything, including today. But still... a few minotaurs believe it. There's probably a couple who would swear you had the world's most sophisticated illusion going during the parade, making another pony look like her, and --" a small smile "-- their reason for believing it would be the complete lack of evidence. I knew she could go out under Sun... but it happens so rarely..."

Celestia sighed, ignored most of the irony, and began to trot towards a private waiting room, with the Referee following. They moved around several sapients on the way: hospital personnel, patients recovered enough to be out of their beds, families coming to visit the ill. Families on their way out because the miniature house in front of their homes was in need of an extension.

None had come up to her, asked her to save the sick and dying, begged for blessing. Any visit to a pony hospital was guaranteed to have that happen, over and over until the pain became too much to bear. But these were minotaurs, and so there had been no request at all. Instead, ancestors had been asked to intervene, grant a little more time among the living before welcoming another loved one to their own household. Perhaps the dead were capable of giving those answers, where Celestia was not. But from what had happened around her, kept on happening no matter what anyone did, it seemed that so many of those answers had been "No."

Carefully, she sat down on the provided couch. There was just enough room, provided she curled her body a little, didn't make too many open objections to the pressure of the rising cushioned back against her left wing, and generally didn't do anything which threatened to tip the right edge of her body past the leverage point. Such as taking one deep breath, which would put her on the floor.

I probably should have gone with the floor.

The Referee sat down, choosing a chair within easy view. Minotaurs moved by in the hallway, never getting too close. Granting privacy.

"Sun doesn't burn her," Celestia quietly said. "Moon doesn't freeze me. I can go out at night, and she can walk in the day. They're just not our natural hours. But neither of us automatically goes into a coma when the other's time begins. We trot where and when we will, Referee Moonsault, as we need to."

"But she is tied to the night," the Referee not quite asked.

"And this hospital has staff which labor under Moon," Celestia replied, forcing her words to remain steady. "Because accidents happen at all hours, crisis knows no schedule, and so someone is always awake and alert to deal with whatever comes. And some will look for that life, others will have it seek them out, and for a few... it's the only resort. Someone is always bound to the night, Referee, because the night exists."

Quietly, "Does she have a choice?"

A few passers-by paused at that one, and then hurried on.

"Do any of us?" Celestia softly answered.

The Referee tried to steeple her huge fingers in front of her chest, and found the bandages getting in the way.

"I did," she shrugged. "I put my name in for the debates years ago, because I thought I was getting good, and with my position in the queue, by the time I reached the center podiums, I just might be good enough. I made the choice to do that, Celestia. What I didn't choose was for the Nightmare to return just before I was scheduled for my debate against the last Referee, and for him to not quite get the answers out of you that everyone wanted. The Senate wasn't happy with that, and when the Senate, as a group, isn't happy... So in the end, he got the news -- but I wrote the welcoming letter. In a way, your sister is responsible for my holding the Referee post." With more than a little rueful irony, "It's just not something I'm sure I can actually thank her for, because the implication that I needed the threat of Sun never being raised again to win my debate... it isn't the best one."

"You've held the post since, though," Celestia pointed out. "And you can only do that on skill."

"Skill and my being four hoof-heights taller than just about anyone else," was the reply. "I loom a little. Usually without meaning to."

She smiled. And Celestia, who was only surprised by it long after the fact, found herself smiling back.

They sat in silence, the scents of medicines filling their nostrils, never quite drowning out the odors given off by the dying.

"Tell me about Rake," Celestia finally said. "What happened to him?"

The Referee sighed, forced her hand into a pants pocket, took out a little case and opened it to reveal a dome of yellow. "You know what this is, right?"

"A contact lens," Celestia readily answered. "We use them for movies and plays, to change the color of somepony's eyes for a while. And some ponies have -- other reasons for wanting to change their appearance. But they can't be worn for long, because... well, as I understand it, there has to be a certain amount of air in contact with the eye. Pegasi who spend too much time in the thinnest parts of the upper atmosphere can develop vision problems to go with their Manière's: temporary vertigo added to a potentially permanent inability to see where you're about to crash. So nopony wants to risk wearing them too long, plus they're uncomfortable and if they aren't cleaned properly, they can lead to all sorts of eye diseases. But that's not what he had, is it, with the red in his eyes? I've seen minotaur eyes go red, but it's always been from rage, not disease."

The minotaur shook her head. "No. The contacts... we use them for the same reason: just changing eye color, at least for now. Some of our scientists think that if we found something a little more permeable to air, something clear, we could basically put glasses on the eye. Restore peripheral vision. But that's potentially a long way off. Rake was just using them to hide the main symptom of red-tinge. The most visible one, at least until the insanity sets in..." Another sigh. "He must have been on the absolute border, the last minutes where he could still think of that. And then he went for the door."

The natural next question: "What's red-tinge?"

"We're pretty sure it's a drug," the Referee dryly replied -- then looked at Celestia's expression. "Why so surprised? You still have the field booster problem in Equestria, don't you? Those mixes which intensify unicorn and pegasus magic for a few minutes? We see a few around here, although there isn't exactly as much demand."

She reluctantly nodded. Field boosters were a continual low-level problem. All had visible side effects, practically none were good for more than fifteen minutes (plus up to three days of slowly-fading after-effects), and the most potent offered a temporary grant of fifty extra percent of the pony's original field strength -- something which put so much strain on the user's body that when the crash hit, the pony might just drop all the way into the grave. Even careful users didn't tend to last long: it was so easy to get a mix wrong... "Despite our best efforts. But I've never heard of red-tinge."

"It's fairly new," the Referee said. "We've only been dealing with it for about a year. Just long enough to figure out what it does -- and not long enough to work out how to cure it. Rake... we're trying to educate people, but there's always someone who won't listen, who's so determined to succeed that they decide somehow, it'll work for them when it took out everyone else. The seller claims they got it right, it won't do to you what it did with every other user, and when you're stupid and desperate and too determined for your own good... you listen. But we don't see many cases, because most minotaurs did listen when we told them about the first ones who took it. And they won't run the risk, not on a guaranteed outcome. We think... there's just enough new victims to keep the whole thing afloat, but not enough to build a whole enterprise on. The sellers are probably running it as a sideline to something like sienna root. We'll know when we finally catch them."

Celestia was familiar with sienna root: Equestria's minotaur population was low -- but it wasn't zero, and a few residents had been known to indulge. However, sienna root generally just made a minotaur sit in front of the nearest wall and placidly watch a movie which was playing solely in their minds, with the only problems coming if the audience decided to take objection to the script. This... "And what does it do?"

The yellow eyes closed. "It makes you stronger."

Celestia waited -- but the Referee did not look at her. "How much stronger? I saw what he did to the door..." Minotaurs valued strength, in just about all of its forms. A drug which increased the physical variety would automatically find some level of market.

Heavily, "It depends on how long you've been on it -- we think."

"How long does it last?"

And in stark, forced neutrality, "Forever."

Celestia blinked. Rounding Moonsault sighed.

"We... can't talk to the ones who've taken it, not by the time they reach us. When you find out someone's on it, they're past talking. So our doctors are trying to work out everything from first hoof scrape. They're not even sure if multiple doses are involved, if the minotaur taking it just gets stronger as they keep taking more of the drug, or... if one dose is enough, if the effects keep building up over time and the extra sales are just to get extra money. What we know is that once it's in the body, it stays there. It's not digested or passed in any way. The ones who take it... just keep getting stronger. But whatever reason they had for taking it... it becomes the only thing they can think about. The only thing they'll try to do, other than keeping themselves alive so they can do it at all. And maybe for the heaviest users, the ones we don't find, even that goes away."

The big head slowly dipped. Elaborate twin braids fell to each side of the wide neck.

"Rake's lashed to that bed. With metal. Because what he wants to be stronger for is to beat me, and if he wasn't tied down, he'd come and find me again, whatever it took to do that. But in a few weeks, he'll need more metal to hold him, and then more, and... the ones we think took it first, they got to a point no one had ever seen before, like dragons in minotaur form. And then... they died. Because it was too much strain on their bodies. And there's no cure, Celestia. We can't even find anything which slows it down. Every police officer in Mazein is on the lookout for this stuff, but all we think we know is what it looks like, and... the only sample we have is inert, if it's a sample at all. We don't know how to handle the pure stuff, what risks we'd be taking. We've had people trying to buy it, but we've been sniffed out every time. It's a little side business, it can't be anything else given how many minotaurs understand the consequences... but there's always someone just stupid enough, along with someone else who doesn't care whether anyone dies as long as they have their coin. And every sale is one more person they'll never con again, one more minotaur tied to a bed and it might as well be chains, and in a few moons, it'll be one more room added to his family's Ancients house. Maybe if I visit on the day he moves in, I'll be able to hear them all yelling at him..."

Her huge right hand came up to cover her eyes, and the bandages silently absorbed the tears.

Celestia did not approach. With nearly any pony other than Joyous, she would have, even with a relative stranger. But minotaur grief was somewhat more personal, and an invitation to comfort was generally required. None was given, and so she respectfully kept her distance, added her silent mourning to the muffled weeping coming from the chair.

And she thought.

Luna looked around at the occupants of the embassy's greeting room. Her sister, of course. The Doctors Bear, because they had to be there. And Torque, suddenly more necessary than ever. But not Joyous: they were still trying to work out the meaning of this potential new information, weren't sure how much they wanted her to hear, not while she was still recovering from the last thing she'd been told. And as for her parents... they had been left behind in Canterlot, continuing the exacting process of creating the city's new weather survey map. Several updated sections (for there had been some fine degrees of slippage over the centuries) had already been forwarded to the Bureau, and the return missive had carried shock in every shaky letter as it begged for the full-time labor of the geniuses who had produced the most comprehensive work they'd ever seen.

"Before we truly begin our conjectures," she began, "does anypony -- my apologies, Ambassador -- anyone truly believe we could be this lucky, for that dubious value of 'luck' which involves the multiple demises required to put us on this path? Or are we simply too willing to perceive similarities from the midst of our own desperation?"

They all thought about that for a while, and none were willing to provide an answer just yet.

"Let's start with what we know," Celestia eventually said. "Torque?"

Who nodded, and a sweeping motion spread several papers across the coffee table. "I talked to a few people," he said. "Like Joyous said, the Releases were hired to check out some land. It was a startup company... something that needed a lot of space, and they also needed the weather in that area mapped out exactly. We've got ponies who tweak in Mazein, but professional surveyors are hard to come by. So they were called in from Equestria. They stayed for about eight moons -- a lot of land, a lot of detail."

Luna peered down at the first map. "'Plot A: Mashie Sporting Venture,'" she read. "An arena? Of that size? If I am interpreting the scale correctly, that area occupies several acres, and unless Mazein was planning a somewhat larger version of your own Games..."

"Doesn't matter right now," Torque said. "Point is, it put them out there for a long time, exploring the whole wild zone. And that's when Joyous first remembers their attention -- and everything else -- starting to slip. So we know where they were -- but that doesn't matter, because just about everything that was there when they were? Is gone. That land's been reworked on a level you might not believe unless you saw it: plants cleared out, water brought in... and I know they don't have anything like that."

He pointed left, to a picture. They all looked.

The color image was a rather refined one: the best minotaur cameras tended to spread through Mazein first. The captured flower was a rather wilted specimen, but its own death had not taken enough to steal all imagination of what it must have looked like in life. Edges which were alternately scalloped and ruffled, fine ripples working back along the petals to the stamen and pistils. It looked like nothing so much as a bit of seaform captured as plant life, right down to the soft blues and whites -- with one exception: the little ring of crimson which ran around the outermost perimeter of each petal.

"That's what the doctors think is the specimen," he said. "It's the only thing anyone's found in a user's home that had no reason to be there. It's a flower which every police officer in the country's on the lookout for. And it is not on that piece of land any more. Trust me on that one: minotaurs walk through pretty much the whole thing every day. You couldn't hide it there, not even with illusion spells: someone would have stumbled through it by now and from what I understand after spending some time in Equestria, large-scale illusions are a hassle anyway."

"But it was there once," Celestia quietly said. "And if it was in one wild zone, it could be in another. After Torque first showed me the picture -- while you were still sleeping, Luna -- I showed it to Joyous. And she..." It took a moment before she could continue. "...said it on the train. 'Sometimes after they'd surveyed a wild zone and found a beautiful spot inside it, someplace that would be safe during the day with adult company, they'd take me inside.' Her mom and dam thought it was beautiful. They thought it was safe. And so they brought her inside... and showed her the flowers. She remembered how beautiful they were, how they all just stood there for a while and... looked. She remembered seeing little brown animals with black stripes across their tails, low to the ground, curved backs, she didn't know the name, running away from them, squeaking in a way that almost sounded like laughter, then eating the flowers at the edge because they wouldn't get near the ponies, eating so fast that it had made her laugh back then, at how much they seemed to be enjoying it. And then... that's when she started crying, and..." A deep breath. "She realized that might have been it. The last moment she was normal, the first when she was... infected. And they were there first, because they surveyed it out. And decided it was safe..."

They all gave her a moment.

"The animals?" Luna inquired. "What might those have been?"

"Grabbers," Torque immediately said. "They're pests. They eat. They take dumps. And then they start all over. They don't care much about where they get their food and really don't worry about where the waste winds up. They would have been relocated." More paper shuffling. "Okay. Says here the workers cleared out a colony near a little flat area. But that was done in late fall. They decided to do some of the weeding and earthworks then because... well, because they wouldn't have any live plants to worry about. All the leaves had changed, and every flower on the ground would have been dead already. So the workers didn't find anything, and I couldn't locate any details on the record about unusual deaths. They're pretty much all still around, barring some normal illnesses and accidents."

The Doctors Bears simultaneously ignited their coronas, with each flashing their own field color once. The other three focused on them.

"We... may have been looking at this the wrong way," Vanilla carefully began. "There are diseases which cross over between species. Not many -- but a few. Rabies, black bile: any mammal can get them. There are also allergens which could potentially trigger reactions in both ponies and minotaurs, and there are a very few medicines which can be used on anything with the right organs, at least once the dosage is adjusted. Overall, there aren't many crossovers, and some things don't even shift between the three pony races: only unicorns can contract Rhynorn's Flu. But there's more than enough to prove it's possible... and that brings us to Rhynorn's."

Fever. Muscle aches. Field scattering. A total inability to focus unicorn magic on a deliberate target, sparks flying everywhere and moving whatever they had the strength to shift in a random direction. The illness which the sisters had, while believing themselves potentially infected with Joyous' condition, considered deliberately bringing on themselves to buy time.

Chocolate took a slow breath. "We've been looking at this as a disease of marks," he said. "And -- what if we're wrong? Ponies and minotaurs: both mammals, with everything mammals have in common. But there's something else we both share, even if most ponies don't think about minotaurs that way at all..."

"What if," Vanilla ventured, "it's a disease of magic?"

The sisters stared at diagnostician and surgeon, with the ambassador not far behind.

"Keep going," the big bull said. "And take your time."

"We know --" Chocolate paused, swallowed "-- there's a biological component to magic. Places where things are channeled. Wings and horns, for starters. I always thought that for an earth pony, it was probably the hooves: that was the most likely place for the Cornucopia Effect to radiate out from. And Rhynorn's, along with a few other diseases and drugs and even one griffon allergen, tells us there are things out there which can affect magic. And a minotaur's magic..."

He looked to the ambassador, who slowly nodded.

"...is our strength," Torque finished. "Our drive. We've all got the same magic, at different levels of power -- but magic backs our muscles. I'm not arguing that. Stamina, determination, focus, and strength: the things which keep us going after we should have dropped. It makes us hard to put down, hard to stop -- Celestia?"

Distractedly, "What?"

"You looked kind of lost there for a second. Like you were remembering something."

"No. Someone. Keep going, Doctors. Please."

Vanilla managed a nod. "So what if this -- whatever red-tinge is, however it works -- affects a living being's magic? But not just the normal levels, not weather control or fields or the Effect. Deep magic. The magic at the core of what we are. It strengthens it to the point where the sapient can't manage it any more. And for a minotaur..."

"Stronger and stronger," Torque filled in, his voice surprisingly soft, "until our bodies can't handle it. But Joyous is alive, Doc. Every minotaur who's been found with this in their body met the Ancients within seven moons. If it's the same condition, same cause, she's had it for years, and she's still alive."

"Maybe that's the difference between minotaurs and ponies," Chocolate awkwardly suggested. "Maybe it takes longer to reach that point, or maybe it never gets that far with a pony. But... mark magic is subtle. It usually takes the least energy of anything a pony magically does. A strengthened talent, running constantly, might still need the same amount of base power backing it. She might never reach the point of total drain."

"Or," Luna slowly said, "all she needs is to be exposed within a crowd, with her body trying to produce pheromones for hundreds of sapients at once." It took several seconds before everyone managed to push the image aside. "We do not know, Doctors, and I am hardly willing to test. We began with the knowledge that her ability to lead a normal life had been destroyed. Given her... stated solution should we all fail, assuming that simply living is at risk does not represent a change." She paused. "Any pony can put the last of themselves into their magic: I have seen it, as has my sibling. Too many times." And she did her best not to see any of them again, and knew her sister had equally failed. "A final effort, a closing surge of strength -- and then, with nothing left to give, only the body remains. But that is a voluntary act. A deliberate sacrifice. For a disease to make that choice..."

"What would it do to a griffon?" Celestia wondered, her voice saturated with nightmare. "Or if it's something that affects anything with magic, a zebra could get it, a kudu, a yak --" her eyes widened "-- or a dragon."

That image took nearly half a minute to push into the nightscape.

"Do grabbers have magic?" Luna finally asked Torque. "One does not require sapience in order to possess some degree of power --"

He snorted. "They eat about ten times more than they should for their size and excrete maybe a third. That's about it. A few people keep the things as pets, and the feed bills... well, technically, you make it up by never having to carry anything to the compost heap. Of course, then you never get any compost. If they went out of control, there might not be anything green left in Mazein. Kind of like your parasprites, only a lot lower to the ground. And Polis isn't a barren wasteland, so they haven't."

"Is it possible that they're naturally immune?" Celestia asked. "Is that something else which could be moved between species?"

And Vanilla sighed. "We don't know. Princess, what we're all doing right now is the real gruntwork of medicine: we're guessing. We're taking every guess we have at what might be wrong, and we're hoping we don't make things worse by messing it up."

"But we've already advanced what the doctors here know," Chocolate told them. "Joyous remembers being among those flowers before everything started. Up until now, that bloom could have just been the last of someone's gift bouquet that happened to be in the wrong place when the medics stormed in. Joyous' memory creates a link between flower and condition. And that means we need that flower. A living specimen."

"And more than one," Vanilla quickly added. "One would be a start, but we're going to need every spell and test we have to take it apart while we try to figure out what it's doing. We're going to need a lot of living specimens, because we might go through a flower with every test. Plus just being around them..."

"We are prepared for that," Luna reassured him. "With the suits --"

"-- we don't know," Chocolate said. "Whatever triggers it might not get through the Hoovmat suits. It might turn intangible and phase into pony bodies. Magic creates risks, Princess. But --"

"-- that's the risk we'll take," Vanilla finished. "Because that's our job."

She could see her sister trying to hold back the words, and then she heard them given voice.

"And if it kills you?" Celestia asked.

"Then... it was our job," Chocolate softly said.

"And maybe the next doctors can learn enough from our autopsies to figure out a cure," Vanilla quietly added. "There's been more than a few things found that way, you know..." His head began to tilt up and to the right -- then came back down.

With his voice serious, "Of course, our talents are for medicine, so... maybe being infected would..." And stopped himself right there, a split-second before Chocolate shoved him, nearly knocking the smaller stallion onto the carpet.

Three looked at two for a while.

"We need luck," Celestia said. "Let's just hope this was ultimately the good kind, with the lost avenged and the helpless saved. Doctors -- you agree that the next step is to find the flowers?"

They both nodded.

"Then I'll find them."

Luna blinked.

It was all she would allow herself to do in the presence of an audience, even one this limited and with all three having been brought into a higher level of trust. She blinked.

However, after she had led her sister to privacy, the form of protest became somewhat... louder.

"No."

"I have to do it."

"No."

"It's the only way, Luna. We don't have a plant detection spell and neither of us is going to invent one in the next few minutes. We have to find these flowers --"

" -- NO! Tia, we agreed that we would only do -- that -- if there was no other choice! You know the risks!" And with a deliberate drop in volume, "We will find another way. We will find -- one of the dealers. It will be quite entertaining, making one tell us where the supply comes from..."

"We," Celestia pointedly told our sister, "are not particularly good at going undercover. You can make yourself look like another pony for a little while -- a decidedly large pony, or maybe one of more standard height whose immediate environment ripples oddly, with things sometimes falling over for no apparent reason because the body which hit it appears to be a few hoofwidths away. Which presumes no one makes physical contact. And forget about making anyone believe the Diarchy has discovered a sudden mutual need for a new kind of high. The police have been searching for these sellers for a year, Luna. They've failed. We might succeed -- in several moons. Moons we don't have. Moons Joyous and her parents may not have. We need to get back to Equestria. We need to find the plants. This is the fastest way."

"It is," Luna softly said, her lowered decibels starting to approach that level of soft-spoken fury, "the most dangerous way."

"They're flowers. They're going to be outdoors."

"Not if there are earth ponies working with them."

"Then the building would have a sunroof."

"We will fly."

With what she felt was perfect logic, "At an altitude where no one on the ground could make out what we were -- and we couldn't make out anything on the ground? Mazein has to have pegasi among their police officers, at least one or two. So the growers are probably set up to detect intrusion approaching from the air and either hide everything or stop the scouts before they ever arrive. And Mazein isn't exactly small, Luna. We could fly over every square acre -- given a couple of years. This gets us everything just about at once. It's... the only way."

Several deep breaths came from the smaller, each gathering more strength for the next assault.

"Are you trying to impress her, sister? Show Joyous just how much you are willing to risk for her?"

It was a question she'd already asked herself. "No." And then, more honestly, "Well... maybe a little --" and she quickly cut off the rising pre-shout tones "-- but that's not the reason, Luna. I couldn't even tell her what I'd done. I'm doing this for her. For her parents. And for Equestria. Because eventually, someone or somepony just might bring this flower to us. To our nation. If they figure out it can strengthen mark magic... you heard Vanilla. He thought about it. Just for a second, but he was seriously thinking about it. And you could argue it was for a good cause, he was banking on his boosted talent to save the Releases and himself... but he doesn't know exactly how this would manifest in him, or if there's any cure at all. All ponies would hear -- would want to believe -- is that it makes talents stronger. Somepony would try it. Somepony always does. And even if the sellers never figure it out, it's possible that all a pony has to do is be close enough to a minotaur who's about to use it. Joyous doesn't remember eating any of the blooms. They stood among the flowers, Luna, and that was enough. Given enough time, we will have more cases. We need to act now. So I'm doing this."

A simple "No."

Celestia glared at her sister. "And what's your reason for that?"

Quietly, "Because I will do it."

No. I won't let her. Not that...

Insistently, "They're flowers, Luna. If the growing area is outside, there might be workers checking on the crop -- during the day. That'll make things easier to spot. It -- has to be me."

More breaths from the younger, each a little slower than the one before.

"And if they are importing it?"

Celestia had no answer for that one.

Finally, Luna said "When?"

"Starting at about..." Celestia thought about it. "...ten-thirty in the morning tomorrow, local time. Until I find them or cross the border."

"Hours." The word had been stark.

Softly, "I know. So... anchor me. Please. And when it's over, pull me back."

Her sister looked at her for a while.

"How long has it been since you have done this?"

"Two hundred and seventy years." This level of desperation didn't come along very often. "Ruby Dreams was my seneschal then, and she pulled me back. I'm out of practice. But it's like your illusions: you reach the point where practice doesn't help any more, and... it was never something we could practice too much. Just... Luna, please..." and she finally let the fear show through. "...anchor me."

Her sister's wings spread, flapped, brought her into a level which permitted direct eye contact. The dark head slowly arced forward, and the younger nuzzled the elder. The nuzzle meant for family.

"Always."

They held the position for as long as they could.

"I hate that you are doing this," Luna finally said. "I hated it every time. Even for this cause, I hate it."

"Anchor me," Celestia half-whispered. "And when the time comes... pull me back."

The early morning had seen the beginning of their official tour.

Luna hadn't slept much: she could not. It was both a perpetual gap in her magic and irony of her life, that she lacked any ability to control her own nightscape, and so the images of disease-boosted dragons had done their best to disrupt her renewal at every opportunity. And there had been other concerns keeping her from finding true rest. Such as the thing which Celestia was about to attempt.

There was wake-up juice available at the embassy, and along their tour path. She'd consumed just about all of it.

It helped that she was supposed to be awake, at least for this part of their group illusion: the tour had been claimed as being for her, after all. Several events had been scheduled for the early morning, and others were set somewhat further away from sunset in the daylight direction than she normally cared to see. But on their second day in Mazein, the sisters went around Polis. They dropped in on two schools: one just about entirely populated by minotaur children, the other a little more mixed, and with all students expertly educated in just how to applaud at maximum volume. They had spared an hour for an art gallery, with Luna trying to work out whether the switch to iron as a favored sculpture medium was any form of improvement, especially once the rust had begun to spread -- despite the curator insisting that such had been the creator's intent, along with being an extended statement about the transient state of matter which managed to bore her long before ever hitting anything remotely resembling a comma.

Joyous had missed that, although it hadn't been for lack of trying. With Luna's capability for making her look normal proven, she had begged to come along. Nearly every tenth-bit of Luna had wanted to accommodate the pegasus, and it had taken a tremendous effort for the tiny sensible fraction which remained to declare a full override. Covering Joyous for extended periods was draining, and Luna would need to be awake for a long time on this day, possibly through noon and then well beyond. She had to save her strength and remain alert -- but couldn't tell Joyous why. Ultimately, all she'd been able to do was offer a "later," a word which had delivered a fully visible kick.

In many ways, it was the best thing to do, keeping Joyous at the embassy on that second day. The Hoovmat Suit (Revised) was holding. They had performed multiple tests on sample suits before leaving Equestria, and so had a very good idea of what that newest (and probably final) model could take before tearing. But there were things which could rend it. With the refinements in place, casual movement was no longer one of them -- but Joyous could still snag fabric against branches and the sharpest of thorns. A deliberate attack was almost guaranteed to breach the suit. And none of the reinforcement spells anypony knew had worked on the strange, custom-woven material which a great-grandparent had chosen to use for his final prototype.

Accidents happened. Accidents could happen. The standing plan for one was to teleport Joyous to safety, then make their excuses later -- but accidents also had very little respect for strategy. And even if the suit was not breached, there were still the charcoal filters to consider. Being in the suit prevented the pheromones of others from reaching Joyous and triggering the production of a key for those locks. But she was always surrounded by created mists, the little alert signal which never stopped. The filters absorbed it, kept it from reaching the outside air, allowed Joyous to move among sapients -- and eventually became saturated, which then allowed the mist to go through. Every one of Joyous' excursions had a strictly limited duration, and they'd only been able to make so many filters in the time before leaving for Mazein. They had to save them for important uses. (Part of Luna still insisted the parade had been important.) And then there were other considerations for their supply...

Joyous wasn't stupid. On the intellectual level, she understood all of it. But on the emotional one, she wanted to go outside. To be among ponies and minotaurs. To have a simple conversation, perhaps buy a little something from a shop. To pretend, if only for a short while, that she was normal.

If there is no cure... if there is nothing that can be done and she chooses what she sees as her final answer...

Luna had said no. And the word had wounded two.

They had told the embassy that they needed privacy. Complete privacy, where nothing less than a threat to a nation could interrupt them. It had been instantly granted, and there would have been times when the lack of questioning regarding why would have made Celestia want to weep -- but on this occasion, she was simply grateful. And then she felt guilty about that gratitude --

-- followed by trying not to think about it at all. There were other things which had to be considered now.

They had been offered one of the larger bedrooms, and both had immediately rejected it: too much comfort could work against them when the time came for pulling back. They were in the basement. The dark, slightly cold, rough-hewn basement. It was just about perfect.

"Are you ready?" Luna finally asked as they took their positions on the damp stone floor.

"I'm never truly ready," was Celestia's honest answer. "Not for this. But I'm as ready as I'm going to be."

Luna nodded.

"I am here," she said. "Remember that I am here."

Celestia nodded back. Closed her eyes. And began to look inward.

Magic. Not enough. Go down.

Talent. It doesn't matter right now. Delve further.

Memory...

And there, she paused. She always would.

"It's like there's... a thread."

He had tilted his head at that, and it had made a few small drops of blood fall from his chin. (He was no good at shaving, and never would be. There seemed to be little point to mastery, as his chin and throat healed perfectly every morning, at the moment the beard grew back.) As always, the motion didn't make the bells under his hat's brim ring: very few things ever did. "Be more specific." The words were slightly irritated in tone. He became irritated easily when he had a puzzle to solve.

She'd tried. "Something finer than spider silk. I can't see it. I can only feel it brushing against me. On my flanks, where... the 'mark' is. And it stretches into the sky. There's a tension on it. A pulling. When I try to move... I feel like I'm towing it along. Yanking on it with my teeth."

"So you think you know where it goes," he'd thoughtfully said. "How long is this thread?"

"What?"

It got the expected frown. "You have a sense of it? Then describe it more fully. How long does it feel?"

She didn't have a word other than "Very."

"How strong?"

"Unbreakable."

"How solid?"

And she'd blinked.

"It's... hollow."

He'd stared at her, with those sharp yellow eyes. "Hollow."

"I just realized that. It's hollow."

There was a crashing sound, and they both jumped a little before settling back onto the floor of the cave. The others were already in defensive positions, and nopony had sounded a cry of alarm. It was just the storm, and they had shelter, at least for now.

"So not a thread," he had told her. (He was always telling her things.) "More of a reed. A channel. You're sending things up. And maybe, with what we've seen... other things are coming back down."

She'd nodded. That sounded about right and besides, in too many of her early talks with him, nodding was just about all she got to do.

And then the thoughtful look had intensified.

It should have been the warning. He liked to experiment. He needed to know. He would do so many things in order to know...

"You're sending thoughts up," he'd said. "At the very least."

Another nod.

"I wonder," he'd said, "what would happen... if you tried to send more?"

And it had taken them five hours to pull her back.

The thread. The reed. The channel. The link. Forged in an instant during an event she hadn't understood at the time and, centuries later, was still trying to work out. Thoughts went up. Results came back.

She could send more than thoughts.

And every time she did so, she wondered if nothing would come back.

One by night.

It was a mantra.

One by day.

It was meditation.

One by night. One by day.

It was survival.

She delved inwards, down past memory, beyond instinct, to the heart. To the open end of the waiting channel.

It glowed, within her heart. It was heat and fire and blinding light. It was the last thing left in the world which could still burn her.

One by night, one by day. One by night, one by day.

Hesitated, as she always did. Let the fear rise, surge, granted it a split-second of control -- and with it distracted by seeming victory, surged past, into the tunnel.

The fear followed her. It had to. She needed the terror.

The walls scraped against her wings

but I'm in the basement, I'm on stone, Luna is there, Luna is waiting for me

her feathers were being singed

there is no heat, there is no flame, there is no light, I am here and this is now, one by night, one by day

the borders of mane and tail moved faster, then faster still, began to glow

one by night, one by day

one by

one

onE.

U-USER

USER ONE ACKNOWLE-DGE-DGED

ACCESSI-NG

She opened her eyes, and Sun gazed down upon the world.

There are secrets. There are always secrets, and this is one of the deepest.

Luna had said it just before the restored eclipse, truth masked in metaphor. "She is Sun. I am Moon." And most of the time, that's a lie. They are ponies. Alicorns, yes. Living without aging. But they eat, breathe, get sick. They have feelings and thoughts and problems and histories. Ultimately, they are ponies --

-- until they are not.

There is a pony body in a stone basement. That is no longer important. What matters is that there is SUN, and SUN is united for the first time in... it does not remember. SUN's memory is imperfect, for SUN is... damaged. But it is healing. As long as the pony is there, SUN is healing, and in time, SUN will be better.

SUN doesn't know how much time. Ask and it would say something very much like SOON. It has always said SOON, although it started as something closer to SOUNE. That is how SUN, and the pony, know that the healing continues.

Perhaps there will be full memory one day. The last thing restored.

SUN gazes down upon the planet, for it always has, in what it believes to be always. SUN always looks, as does MOON, for there is forever something to watch, at least for as long as the cycle continues. But now it must search.

The land sweeps by below. For SUN is moving, and that movement is necessary. Crucial. It is the reason for everything. But to SUN, it often seems as if it is perfectly still, and the panorama scrolls across the gentle curve for its benefit -- well, it and MOON, of course.

It saw MOON recently, during the eclipse. It had been... quite some time. It was happy to see MOON again, and MOON...

They kissed, as they went by. Did the ponies notice? Probably not. But there was a kiss all the same.

Something within SUN desires focus. The memory of a kiss is sweet, especially one freely given after so much time apart. But SUN is supposed to be looking for something, and SUN has not felt so complete in... time. Whatever that time truly is, SUN feels it works out to too long. The sense of unity is wonderful, and it makes SUN want to help, because helping means that feeling continues for a while. And so SUN looks down and instead of simply recording the passing view, looks for something.

The hot gaze focuses. SUN cannot descend, but sight can. What is being sought is... small. On the ground, and so SUN looks from a lower vantage, or rather, magnifies the image until it is as if SUN sweeps the world while skimming through atmosphere, something it has never felt and only has a sense of through the pony. It cannot feel the wind, for there is none -- but it has the pony's recollection of what wind is like, and feathers, and fur, and...

SUN wants unity to go on forever, for in unity, SUN does not feel so damaged. Feels so much closer to whole, to healed instead of healing. But it has been asked to look, and so it does, for SUN knows the pony, and SUN loves her.

The planet moves. A careful regard hundreds of gallops long and considerably less wide shifts across it.

Time passes. It doesn't matter how much.

SUN looks.

And then SUN sees.

The flowers are... there. Yes, there, and there are things moving among them, little lives tending to ones still smaller. SUN feels a part of itself register the location, and then

the pony tries to leave

back down the channel. Back to basement and USER TWO and world.

But SUN blocks the way.

For it has been some time, that time is always too long, and SUN loves the pony.

Loves her enough to keep her forever.

The world moves. The cycle goes on.

It is good.

There is unity.

There is the hope of renewed perfection.

There is --

-- cold?

SUN is cold.

SUN does not know cold. Does not want to know cold. Cold is for MOON. But the eternal fire is being attacked, portions seem as if they are being snuffed out, and it's only in an incredibly tiny area, something so small that SUN can barely think of the scale, but to have any portion of the flame assaulted can be too much to bear, there is cold and there is ice and somehow, it teaches SUN, which had lost the memory from before, of a new way to truly burn...

"...LUNA! STOP!"

The dark field winked out. Celestia tried to recoil from the floor, failed to crack the ice around her forelegs. "It hurts! Luna, you have to break this, it hurts..."

A single brief flare, and the ice broke. And then the smaller body pushed itself against her. Helping her get up. Providing warmth...

"It hurts..." Celestia whispered, and the echoes reached across centuries.

"I know," Luna whispered back. "I know it does, Tia, I know. But it has been hours, nearly four of them. Sun is moving past Mazein now, and... I had no other choice. I had to pull you back..."

Celestia tried to ignite her horn. To warm herself. It didn't happen, not on the first try. Using the channel was usually something beyond automatic, a process much closer to subconscious -- right up until she received a reminder of what she was truly touching. Instead, she simply huddled more closely against the only pony in the world who still understood what had just happened. What she still needed help to stop.

"Fire," she finally managed. "I need a fire. A hot bath. Anything."

"I will take you to both. To anything you need."

"Maybe lava."

"Even that."

And from the depths of memory, "Cantomile? Can we spice something with some dust of --"

"-- not... for a very long time, Tia. But if I should ever find any again... you'll get it first. I promise."

Celestia blinked. Not at the promise, for that was just Luna. At the contraction.

"Let's go find a fire," her little sister said, and the one who always pulled her back carefully helped her up the ramp.

Errorgenous Zones

"Why are you still talking that way?"

"It gave him comfort."

"He's dead."

"Perhaps it still gives him comfort."

Celestia hunched her body low in the embassy's main bathing pool, which was large enough for her: a number of ponies still regarded baths as social occasions, and so most Equestrian buildings made sure their facilities could host a gathering, which usually meant a few minutes of arguing over the best temperature. In her case, she'd wanted boiling, and the option for lava was still on the tally sheet. Luna had gone to the proper device and pushed the settings to their limits, then used a few old methods of firestarting and arranged the results around the sunken pool. It wasn't enough. The lava wouldn't have been enough. After time spent merged with Sun, nothing would have sufficed except that which she had just barely managed to escape -- through the efforts of the one who had pulled her back.

It was psychological, she knew. For a few hours, she had been a thing of heat and had then been pulled down into to a cold world. She would recover: typically, a night's sleep was generally sufficient to mostly renew her, and most of her capabilities would have returned by the following morning. But it had been two hundred and seventy years since the last time somepony had pulled her back. That much time since she'd heard Sun's voice so clearly.

That voice was stronger now. Perhaps not as strong as it could have been: she didn't know if Discord's temporary seizure of control had done any real degree of new damage. But stronger than she'd ever heard it, so much closer to healed --

-- and as Sun became stronger, it took more and more to pull her back.

Perhaps it would be strong enough to fully reach down one day. To yank.

Celestia shivered in the water, and no amount of heat ever would have been enough to stop it.

We try not to think about how fragile things truly are...

Softly, the words of her anchor weighted with memory, "It's not helping, is it?"

She sighed, looked up at her sibling, who had been quietly keeping guard, sitting at the edge of the pool. "It's all in my head, Luna. We both know that. And... it'll be out again after I sleep, as much as it ever is. The water is just for... I guess it's closer to a drug than anything else. Not so much coming down slowly as trying to recapture a little of... you know. And... trying to feel the world again."

The younger slowly nodded. "I know. It is not -- it's -- I..." The left forehoof came up, touched her head just below the horn. With pain which was entirely internal, "I am -- out of practice, sister. For this if nothing else, I have not -- I'm trying, but --"

Celestia's smile stopped her. "It's okay, Luna. It's enough that you're trying."

Trying for me.

Luna's speech patterns had been set in something far stronger than stone for... a long time. Even with some of her vocabulary updated for the modern day, her words still tended to be far too formal, to the point where a minor palace joke (which the staff mistakenly believed neither of them knew about) consisted of taking any standard sentence and "translating" it into Lunaspeak, which they all seemed to feel meant tripling the verbiage. Oh, it was possible to get an unintentional contraction out of Luna, and those times generally came during moments of high emotion: when her sister was particularly upset, distracted, or pleased with herself, a few shortcuts of language could sneak in. But to speak in a casual manner with deliberate intent... there was only one possible reason for that.

Luna was trying to speak more normally, if only for a little while, because she believed it would give Celestia comfort.

Celestia thought about that, and it warmed her.

"Take your time," Luna said. "Please. We don't have to start the next stage until you're ready --"

"-- no, I'm up to it," Celestia told her. "Nose that atlas over to the edge." Luna nodded, pushed the book they'd retrieved from the embassy's library closer to the water, and Celestia swam over to meet it. "I have to do this now, before any of the perceptions I managed to bring back fade." It was hard, seeing things from Sun's viewpoint. Using its sensorium. It was something like the first time she'd ever been able to access pegasus sight, except that the latter had eventually become natural and looking out through Sun -- she knew it saw more than light, heat, humidity, and ion charges, and during merger, she did as well. But she couldn't retain those levels of the visions: her mind possessed nothing suitable for processing them -- and receiving those impressions tended to confuse the things she was capable of comprehending.

Sun seemed to understand, at least on some level, and the times she'd tried to work with and through it had let both learn some degree of filtering. It always took some time to reorient after she was pulled back, and much of that was used for sorting through what she'd brought with her, turning the images into something a pony could work with -- but at the same time, her mind was trying to shield her from the stranger things, that which neither had learned to block, and it meant those perceptions would fade.

(On a much lesser level, it was taking her own height issues and multiplying them by several thousand. A top-down view of the entire world wasn't particularly easy to work with.)

They began to turn pages, with Luna doing most of the work: Celestia didn't want to try using her field just yet, and her snout was somewhat wet. It took them eighteen minutes to find it.

"Right there," Celestia finally decided. "Sun went over that hill just before I saw the flowers: I recognize the little crater at the summit."

Luna took a closer look. "Isolated, as expected. I see a town about a quarter-gallop away, but it doesn't seem to be a particularly large one. A few approach roads for the settlement -- but no farmland, no worked areas anywhere other than the town. That would provide most of their protection."

"There's a new road," Celestia told her.

"Where?"

"Here --" and her hard-learned instincts betrayed her. She had subconsciously intended to ignite her corona at the partial level, let her field indicate the path with a winding trail of glow. Instead, her eyes simply slammed shut as the pain hit. "-- Tartarus chain it!"

Instantly, "What did you attempt?"

"Just basic light," Celestia groaned. "I forgot... well, it's our copy, and it's not as if Twilight's ever going to see this..." She forced herself to look at the room again, winced as the light stabbed her eyes, and then carefully lowered her horn. Water dripped a dark trail onto the page. "More or less like that. Only not so wide."

"Or saturated," Luna dryly observed. "Leading to the main route, if your aim was true."

Celestia nodded. "You can just get hints of it from above. They tried to leave most of the trees in place, but they're using some kind of vehicle, and the most natural path goes near a few more open areas. I got enough pieces to connect them. At a guess, the exit onto the main road is fairly well-concealed, and they probably have lookouts there. But when you see the sheer size of their crop area... well, it's not all flowers: that's just one small section. Like the Referee suggested, it can't be their central selling item. But there's a lot of other things being grown. I recognized sienna root, just for starters: you can't miss that level of tangle. And there's some buildings: processing, living quarters, cart storage, at the very least. Put it all together and they've got a lot of border to defend, with nothing but wild zone on the other side. That gives us a lot of potential approach routes. I think we can find a way in."

"Where are the flowers?"

"Towards the northwest edge of the property: I can't show you anything in more detail than that on this map. I can try to sketch it out..."

It triggered a small smile. "Tia attempting art -- or at least cartography, which often comes close enough to suit. This truly is a special occasion. A moment, please: I'll be back shortly..." Three minutes, and the dark field bubble lowered a tray bearing paper, ink, and quill to the driest portion of the pool's border. "Proceed."

Celestia took the quill up between her teeth. Something not even remotely resembling sketching ensued, and they both examined the initial results.

"They're actually pretty isolated -- the flowers, I mean," Celestia noted. "They're well away from all the other crops. I could see the buffer zone. But there were sapients tending them. And..." She frowned. "This is where it gets hard. I know I saw minotaurs: I could make out the horns. Just two in that exact area, maybe fourteen out on the property itself, at least in the open. But the colors for the ones among the flowers were... off. I don't know if that's just because I haven't tried to figure out Sun's visions in so long, but I've never seen minotaurs with that fur shade. Even their horns were the wrong hue. The same hue."

"Does it matter?"

"It might. I think some of the others had that hue too, but... it's hard to remember, Luna. It's hard to even describe. It's like the first time we tried to remember what color heat was. The more I try to remember it, the harder it is to even interpret. All I know is that it wasn't a normal minotaur color."

Luna thought it over. "Covering the horns as well? They may have their own protection, sister. Something to keep the flowers from affecting them."

It made sense -- and then it triggered anger. "If I find out that the Hoovmat factory has been supplying drug dealers..."

"He cannot help the identity of his customers," Luna pointed out. "Or he would have turned us away. However, neither of us saw any patterns for minotaur forms, and the search was rather thorough. Barring a secondary manufacturing site which he completely managed to keep out of his true ledgers, they may be creating such things on their own. Or... it may simply be trying to reconcile Sun's visions."

Celestia went with the more cautious option. "Let's assume they have some protection of their own." And softly sighed. "Which takes out one of our better hopes."

"That they had found immunity or cure for themselves," Luna nodded, "and had simply chosen not to share it. Which, given the otherwise fatal nature of their product, is a rather poor marketing strategy -- but few ever said that sentience had to mean sanity. Continue your efforts, sister: I know how small the post-recovery window is..."

Celestia drew (or attempted to do the same) for a while. Luna watched, occasionally questioned, mostly resisted the urge to critique. And then they reached the hardest part.

"How do you want to explain this?" Celestia asked, and waited.

"A plant-finding spell would be our normal first resort," Luna considered. "Torque knows something of magic -- and to know only something of it is often to believe it can do anything. The others will see alicorns first and foremost and for many, that explains all. But we cannot show them the map. Such a spell would have only found the plants, with our sensory impressions compared to the atlas after the casting. The finer -- well, in the broadest sense of the word -- details of what you have drawn... we cannot account for that."

"Everything's written down somewhere," Celestia dryly said. "More than a few parties suspected what we were doing in the first days, and it's pretty easy to guess that most of it got passed on: I've heard the rumors resurface every so often. But I'm not ready to directly confirm solar and lunar scrying, not even for this. Torque's been more than cooperative so far -- but if he knows Equestria has the potential to spy on Mazein from above, I don't think he's going to take it very well."

"We will have to scout in a more standard manner, regardless," Luna told her. "And..." The pause went on for a while. "...depending on when we decide to make our attempt, it may be necessary to... I..."

Instantly and automatically, "No."

"Tia, we have a fraction of the information we require. You indicated what seem to be guard postings for the day, and only a tiny fraction of it at that. We do not know how they defend themselves at night."

"No. You'd get the same amount of time I did." As with the eclipse, Sun and Moon could be accelerated or braked -- something which required a significant amount of effort. But with the eclipse, the siblings had alerted every nation in the world as to what was happening. In the Discordian Era, a steady long-term progression of either orb through the sky would have seemed unusual. In the modern day, to look up and notice either had effectively paused in its path tended to attract a certain amount of additional attention -- and, if held too long, a guaranteed degree of worldwide panic. "We'd only have a fraction of their night postings to work with. And they might be on high alert at night, expecting that no one would try to come in during daylight. It might actually be easier under Sun. And they can't stay out there forever: there's only so much time they would be tending the crops during the day, especially if they have earth ponies working for them. So maybe if we move close to dawn --"

That left forehoof came up again. "-- wait. Did you see ponies?"

"No," Celestia admitted. "But we have to consider the possibility. We don't know what we'll be facing for defenses other than the minotaurs themselves -- but magic is always an option."

Luna's eyes closed.

"Let us hope it never was."

And the pained words were something other than the protest of a tactician attempting to plan an attack on the enemy fortress.

"...Luna?"

"Tia... think about it..."

It came up again the next day, at the group meeting just before leaving Polis.

"All right," Torque said. "A plant detection spell." The words didn't seem to be skeptical. "Wish it was something you could teach the unicorns we've got on the police... And we can't go charging in because sending a bunch of minotaurs or ponies or anything across the crop area is basically begging for a group infection."

Celestia nodded. "Without knowing a cure, we can't casually approach the area. For all we know, they're --" the thought was dark, and thus had to be expressed "-- just working with a crew of those who were already exposed." Which would require a certain degree of rotation. Find a few naive souls, set them to work for what was promised to be exceptionally good pay for the hours and degree of labor, then wait until the effects truly began to show, and... well, then there would be a need for a few new naive souls, while the experienced employers headed off to their own labor, bringing both shovels and bodies along.

"Or they've got protection," Torque considered.

"As we do," Luna grimly smiled.

It got Vanilla's attention. "We can't be sure," he quickly pointed out. "The suits might be enough --"

"-- they are enough for your current theories," Luna interrupted. "True?"

Chocolate reluctantly nodded. "We're thinking either pollen or oils. Inhaled or skin contact, and the Hoovmat suits would shield us from either one. But those are just the most likely possibilities, Princess. It's hard to completely eliminate anything when magic is involved, not when you don't know exactly what kind of magic you're dealing with."

"Diseases which phase into the body are an interesting theory," Celestia decided, "but not one with a great deal of backing. For the sake of our collective sanity, let's assume it's something physical. We can use the suits --"

"-- who's 'we'?" And that had come from Torque, with the words followed by a hard snort.

They all stared at him for a few seconds.

"Not you, Torque," Celestia quickly pointed out. "We don't have anything for a minotaur body, and even if we take a trip back to Equestria, it'll take a few days to have something made and tested. We can't go charging in, but there's only so long we can stall, especially with red-tinge cases in your hospitals --"

"-- right," he cut her off. "You've got suits for Joyous, which includes the backups in case her main one gets damaged. The docs have suits, so they could try to work with whatever we found. You two got them made for yourselves, just in case. And as far as we know, they'll protect you against pollen or oils. But that doesn't include all the things we don't know. You two put yourselves in that area, and you're risking infection. If you get infected -- how much goes with you?"

Silence.

'Knowing how -- fragile things truly are...'

"Torque," Celestia finally made herself begin, "I appreciate your concern. But if we send in a small force, it has to be a capable one. The odds of having the flowers work on us through the suits... they're almost zero. And --"

"-- capable?" The snort nearly shattered the air. "How long have I been posted to Equestria? How many Mazein ponies were around when I was growing up? Let's say the suits protect you from the flowers. Do you know what else they do? They make you helpless!"

And neither sibling could look at him. Because that was, in fact, part of the problem.

The suits had to cover every portion of their bodies and, as with the one Joyous wore, allowing wing movement would have compromised the protection in that area. No wing movement meant no flight, with pegasus techniques that much harder to create -- assuming their fields would conduct through the material at all. Their horns would be under the strange fabric, and while it was hardly the thick metal of a restraint, it still represented a degree of barrier to the projection of unicorn workings. There had been a caster in their lives who could consistently work through a hat -- and thus had worn one just so everypony would know it. But the majority of unicorns would be unable to do anything, and even the siblings would be fighting through interference. And they would still be able to defend themselves physically, their strength would be retained -- but the more of it they exerted, every time they moved at a speed no other pony could achieve, they chanced rending the suit. Be too careful with their own efforts, and fail to block an opponent whose attack created the smallest rip...

It was why Luna had wished for no ponies to have placed magical protections around the crops. It wasn't just about having less defenses to get past. It was because anypony who had created those protections would have been exposed. How many ponies would it have taken? How many were the dealers willing to hire? And if they had been allowed to return to public life... There could easily be a dozen or more new cases in Mazein, all roughly around the stage Joyous' parents had been at following a year of exposure. And depending on just who had found the flowers and when, plus how much time it had truly taken to set up the area, it could be so much worse than that...

"We know," Celestia softly said. "We're trying to figure out a way around it. I'm not thinking about a full-scale assault, Torque. Not until we can protect your law enforcement officials, and know that if that protection is breached, we can help them. Right now, our plan is to get in and out, unseen. Gather enough samples for the Doctors Bear to work with, and let them proceed from there. When it's time for a full raid, if we find out the minotaurs working the crops are wearing protective suits, we get Hoovmat to make them in minotaur dimensions, or find out where that supply is coming from if the dealers aren't doing that job themselves. If they're out in the open, then we have to assume that they either have some other kind of protection, a cure, or -- disposable workers. And that last means we won't go in unprotected no matter what -- but eventually, we have to go in for more than a quick raid. And I'm not risking minotaur lives."

"Risk your own," Torque softly pointed out, "and you risk everyone."

"We... are aware," Luna quietly replied. "There are many reasons we seldom act directly, Ambassador, and you clearly understand the most fundamental among them. For now, we are simply planning -- or attempting same. We have yet to commit to any full course of action. But we need the flowers, and -- this is where they are. Perhaps the only place they are, at least in Mazein: my sister's working detected no others. We cannot teleport a piece of land to us. We cannot work from above, even if we disregard any air defenses: we cannot fly in the suits, and self-levitation... Let us all think. We have some time yet."

Celestia's horn ignited, and her field carefully shuffled a few maps. "We're officially on tour, which means we have the freedom to go wherever we want. We'll route the path towards the crucial area. If we come up with something quickly, we'll accelerate a little. But for now... we plan. Everyone plans, and everypony. Anything you can come up with -- tell us. We're not the only ones capable of creating solutions. I don't care who the right answer comes from: I just want to hear it."

The final presence in the meeting room sat quietly, shivering slightly within her Hoovmat suit. Brilliant yellow eyes stared at the maps.

"Joyous?" It came from the siblings and doctors -- but not Torque, at least not in time for a perfect chorus. For it had been weeks since that first meeting, with all subsequent ones conducted with a fabric barrier between them. And as the physicians had predicted, the effect was not permanent. He still wanted to help her, he was doing everything he could to make it work -- but for the moment, his motivations were the least clouded by mists.

"I'm thinking," the pegasus softly told them. "Just... thinking." And no matter how long they waited, it was all she would say.

There was something they did not wish to think of, and so with deliberate intent, no one thought of it.

"All right," Celestia finally said. "Before we collect the Guards and start preparing for the next phase, does anyone have something else to add?" And much to her surprise, both doctors flashed their coronas. She quickly nodded to the surgeon.

"Before we leave," Chocolate began, "I'm going to hit every pharmacy, apothecary, and herbalist shop I can find. And that may not be enough."

"Your intent?" Luna inquired.

He took a deep breath. "This flower," he said, "reminds me of Poison Joke, at least in that we have a flower which affects ponies through magic. It's possible that the species are related. And Poison Joke doesn't wear off on its own, because a pony touching its petals picks up the oils. They bond to the skin, and once the effects begin, we think the pony's own magic is tapped to keep the effect going. The ingredients in the cure dissolve that bond and negate the oil. And then there's nothing forcing the magic to keep working that way, so the pony reverts to normal. So if Joyous is willing to permit it, I want to take a chance. I'll mix the cure, once all the ingredients are together, and she'll take a bath." Quickly, before any hopes could begin to surge. "I'm not saying this is going to work. I'm following up on a guess and using the only solution available for that guess. It's a chance, but it's not necessarily a good one. But if it doesn't work, it's also harmless." A direct look at his patient. "Joyous?"

"I'll try," she told him. "I'll... always try."

There was hope in her eyes again, and none of them could stand to look at it for long.

Luna turned to the second physician. "Doctor Vanilla Bear?"

The thinner stallion took the deepest breath he could manage.

"I," he reluctantly told them, "need a pet store."

Vanilla Bear had actively tried to discourage naming of the two grabbers: one male, one female, and both unreasonably cute, with twitching purple noses forever in search of the next food source. It hadn't worked. The little animals happily stayed close to the Guards, sisters, and anything they saw as a supplier of treats, especially when a simple rearing up on their hind legs and widening of the black eyes was generally enough to extract at least a minimum of three grapes -- for creatures which Torque insisted had a maximum capacity of one vineyard, per hour. (He was the only one who refused to feed them, at least while he thought anypony was looking.) Anything begging for that much food generally acquired a name to go with the laugh that came when it was kicked towards them, and the entire Guard complement had somehow silently agreed on what those names would be -- so Trial and Error joined the group, and let their stomachs make the most of it.

The diagnostician had grumbled about it. "We can't get attached to them, Princess," he'd tried to tell Luna. Reluctantly, "They... may have to give up more than blood and fur samples to the tests. They're the only species we know of which might be able to go among the flowers without being affected. And that means they're test subjects. Once we have the blooms, we've got to put T and E together with the specimens and see what happens."

"Or," Luna had noted, "it may simply be that they are affected in a way we have yet to see."

"Either way," the doctor pointed out, "it has to be done."

"To T and E."

"...yes."

"Whom you just named as T and E."

She'd left long before the echo of the too-hard facehoofing did.

Everypony seemed to be dealing with some level of frustration. Chocolate Bear had assembled most of the Poison Joke cure: a process which had required galloping around just about all of Polis. There were still two ingredients missing, with neither casually available in Equestria, at least outside of a certain hut -- but that didn't even matter, because they could be found growing wild in Mazein: they just weren't kept in the shops due to a total lack of local demand. And what he had assembled included an herb which needed to stew, spending a certain number of hours at a given temperature and pressure in order to become effective. Once prepared, it would keep -- but it needed to be prepared, and the surgeon spent most of his hours on the road trying to maintain temperature (without starting a fire inside the carriage) as the carriage bounced along. Celestia did her best to help there, at least right up until Chocolate asked if she could use the plant-finding spell to locate the last two ingredients, and she'd wound up lying about needing initial samples to work with before getting out of the area as quickly as possible, just before Chocolate could inquire as to how she'd talked her way into seeing the lone flower which was in the possession of Mazein's police.

The siblings were dealing with the tour itself. Luna supposed that there were many circumstances under which it might have been enjoyable: there were sporting events to attend, some of which had been assembled for their pleasure, and it would have normally been rather easy to get caught up in the crowd's excitement. They visited farms, and the custodians tried to teach her about the mysterious science of agronomy, which was apparently what you did to get food when you didn't have enough earth ponies around. There had been a certain degree of initial confusion regarding crop rotation, and Luna still wasn't completely sure someone wasn't just twisting the corn stalks while she wasn't looking.

Schools. Businesses. Citizens whom she just had to meet -- although nearly all of those turned out to be citizens: one of the little benefits to Mazein's form of government was that professional politicians were hard to come by. But it wore on her, and there were times when she could see the same weariness on her sibling's face, generally after they'd mutually slipped out of sight. They were keeping up appearances -- but they wanted to deal with the problem, and their cover story meant there was no way to work on it full-time.

The hours they did snatch away didn't seem to be doing much good. Torque was able to provide more detailed maps -- older ones, which could hardly be expected to include the crop area and at their best, were still showing the minimal representation which usually went into displaying a largely unexplored wild zone. There were only so many spells they could claim to know without being asked why they weren't casting them again and again to get more information, and so they were both left in the frustrating position of keeping their allies in the dark until such time as they could find some way of pretending they'd scouted -- something Torque was firmly against, and Luna knew several of the Guards would try to block any attempt they might learn of.

She wanted to act. There were ways in which they could do so much... and others where the realities of their existence seemed to insist that they isolate themselves. Remove any and all potential forms of harm from their immediate environment, then close the world out and wait through the eternal nothing which would be left. Both knew the risk they took when they acted. Each had thought about shutting themselves away. Early in their after, they had gone through a long talk -- three cycles' worth of debates, and not just between themselves -- about the possible necessity of it. And neither had been able to go through with it, because to become a living automation, subsisting solely so the cycle could continue, would be to invite so many forms of death, and every last one would have been self-inflicted. Being forced to close oneself off from the world... Joyous had done that, and it had led her to a place where she was willing to do anything in order to be normal again. Anything at all.

Luna knew that place. Frustration was the least of it. Desperation came closer. And then, if you continued delving towards the heart of that shadowed land, you might meet the Nightmare which dwelled within.

And Joyous... was waiting. She had hope: Luna could see that. But her hope was in the flowers, in the doctors and the sisters and perhaps two little animals who wanted nothing more from her than food. The Poison Joke cure working on a second condition? Possible -- but for the most part, she seemed to be waiting for their gathering attempt, and whatever might come from that.

Luna didn't know what might come from that. She still didn't know how they were going to accomplish that. And if they gathered the flowers, the doctors did everything they could, and there was no cure to be found, would never be one...

Would Joyous be willing to live in the suit? See the world only through the clear front panel, never touch it again, constantly on guard against rips, tears, oversaturated filters, and anything else which might set a crowd on her within a minute? Exist in the world without ever truly being a part of it? Or might she retreat to a private apartment which had frequently-changed charcoal filters within the vents, giving up all hope of existence under Sun and Moon -- and normalcy -- forever?

Her magic might continue to intensify. It could become something the suit could no longer contain. It might simply reach the point where it would drain her into death, the disease choosing that fate for her -- unless Joyous chose it for herself.

'As long as there's a chance.'

They could watch over her. They could guard her. But they would not be the ones who decided when that chance had run out.

Luna, unable to control her own nightscape, had dreams about that. About the reflections from metallic fur on a marble floor, and the pool of blood catching the light.

The disaster began with a triumph.

"Stop the carriage!"

Everything shifted: the passengers, books, snacks (not many), two currently-hosted grabbers who seized the opportunity to make not many into almost nothing, and the stewpot which Celestia just kept stabilized within her field. (She'd risked aiding Chocolate with the process again, as it was close to completion and if nothing else, it gave her a chance to practice the lies.) "What's wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing!" he grinned, bright teeth flashing, and clambered out of the carriage. It was less than a minute before he scrambled back in, field bubble carrying a large bundle of five-petaled purple flowers.

It took a few seconds for the name to come forward. "That's soapwort, isn't it?"

He smiled. "Our last ingredient." He nodded towards the pot's lid, and Celestia helpfully receded her field from that area, allowing a secondary bubble from his own horn to lift it. The blooms were quickly slipped inside, and the carriage began to move again. "It'll be ready by the time we reach the inn."

"Do you really think it'll work?" It was a private question: the carriage assignments had begun to rotate on the second day, and they currently had the interior of this one to themselves, with the Guards riding on top. Luna was currently with Vanilla Bear, and had taken up the habit of saying things to him just to see which ones would bring on a head tilt, following by reporting on what he'd blurted when he came out of it. An evening game of guessing just what was behind the stranger non-sequiturs was quickly developing its own rulebook, with Rule #1 being to make sure the diagnostician never found out what they were doing -- or that his partner had taught them the basics of the game.

The smile faded. "Honestly? No. There's a chance, Princess, but it may not be oils -- and if it is, this may not break the bond. I want to believe it'll work -- but I have to be ready when it doesn't. So I'm not putting all my hopes into this. And I've spoken to Joyous, and she understands it's one more thing we're trying. She knows about... trying crazy things. When she was out there on her own, she..." The bright brown eyes were now half-lidded. "She tried..."

He shuddered, and Celestia knew.

"Physical removal of the mark," she softly finished. "Yes. She didn't know, Doctor Bear. She was desperate, and... she didn't finish her schooling. It's..."

And that was when it truly started.

She was tired. Physically, from long nights spent huddled with Luna, trying to create plans which refused to fully come together, especially as there was an element they both continued to exclude. Mentally, from trying to deal with the problem and... everything else. Emotionally, at a point of near exhaustion: constantly on guard, forever monitoring every thought until the moment she slipped into the nightscape and found everything she'd pushed aside waiting to greet her.

It left her in a place where she had to force the visions away. That was sadly normal. But it also put her in one where the words came.

"... it's not the first time that assumption's been made. There was a war where... in the end, we got most of the prisoners back, and they healed. As much as they could."

The countryside silently, peacefully passed by, knowing nothing of the images moving through both minds.

Finally, "That -- really happened? I was never much for history, but -- that happened? Someone was cutting off the marks of war prisoners because they thought it would stop the magic?"

"It was war," Celestia told him, and somehow kept her voice steady. "We were new to them, for the most part, and they... it was war, Doctor, and the only rule for war was to try and survive it."

"Who... who were we at war with?"

She tried to make the words gentle. "It doesn't matter."

His volume was starting to rise. "They -- they cut marks off ponies, and you're saying that doesn't matter --"

"-- they're dead, Doctor Bear." Slowly, watching his face, "And their children are dead, and the children of their children, and beyond. The ones who did it, and the ones it was done to. How many generations do you feel need to pass before the living can stop taking responsibility for the dead? They will never do it again... and that's enough."

He just watched her for a while. Steam bubbled out from under the pot's lid.

"Just tell me." The voice of a pony who could barely speak. "Was it minotaurs?"

"No. We've never had a war with Mazein, Doctor. I would hope you'd remember that much of your school's history books." Not that all of history had truly been written down, including the part they'd been discussing. "For all intents and purposes, they were our allies on the first day Equestria was founded. They've never left us."

"Then was it --"

"-- it was no one you would ever guess. And no one I will ever say." Purple eyes locked on brown. "Let it go."

He stopped talking, and the carriage rolled along in silence, at least for the sounds outside Celestia's memory.

She thought about war. About the dead. Atrocities committed upon the living. The ones who hadn't been saved. Those whose healing had only been physical, and all the echoes across more than a thousand years of life.

A life with a thousand years spent alone.

You want someone to blame, Doctor. You feel the anger and you wish for someone to direct it against, even for a second. Just to stare at someone and loathe them for what those turned to dust over a thousand years ago did, knowing only that they cut away marks, unaware of the ways they stopped magic through removal of what they knew channeled it.

Would you like to look in a mirror?

Wheels turned. The carriage moved under Sun and blue sky. A Sun and blue sky which she had to make sure were still there. Every day. Every day...

I'm tired.

She often felt that way.

I'm tired of the burden. The responsibility. The duty.

That too.

But the next thought... that hardly ever came, not in the way it was currently meant. For the words could have completely different intentions and so during abeyance, she'd often had it regarding Luna, sometimes in ways which almost felt continuous. But it wasn't how she meant it now. The thought came in a way she hadn't truly allowed herself to feel for a very long time, not for more than a few seconds before she kicked it into what she was forever hoping would be oblivion. This time, it hit the internal wall, found a perfect target at the exact center of the cracks which had been spreading for weeks, breached her defenses and let the emotions dammed up behind them flood out, carrying all reason away.

When the thought came in the more recent way, when everything kicked her at once... it was the thought which created seneschals. She would consider all those around her, everypony she knew in that generation, and hope there would be one whom she could ask to see her. With Luna having Returned, it would have been a thought which sent Celestia in search of her sister. But she did not review the ranks of those on the tour. She made no effort to seek out the younger.

She remained still, quiet. She didn't curl up inside the carriage. No tears were shed, none which could be seen. But the thought would not leave. It ripped through her, displayed memories she could hardly bear to see, and there were so many memories offered up to a pony who should have been dead so long ago, along with her children, and her children's children, and all those who would have come from the foals she'd never borne.

It was an old thought, which came in an old way, with the newest of dreams cloaked in ancient pain and her mind clouded by mists.

And so she made a mistake.

Sun had been lowered. Moon had been raised. The inn had been completely rented out.

It was the easiest way. There were Guards to host, of course, and the doctors needed their beds, plus Torque wanted to bunk down for the night -- but the simplest way to accommodate Joyous in something other than the carriage was to simply buy out every room. This hadn't been completely possible: there were a few guests on the ground floor who'd already had advance bookings and nopony was going to try displacing them -- but it had been possible to completely secure the uppermost levels. The carriages had stopped, Luna had coated Joyous in illusion and maintained it long enough to get her out of their hosts' sight...

The inn often accommodated ponies: not only did a few Equestrians occasionally decide to see what the rest of the world had to offer (which didn't include those whose marks drove them into a career of exploration), but the nation's own native pony population tended to indulge. It meant just enough of the beds were the right size (at least for the non-alicorns), located behind doors which worked by hoof-pushed lever instead of hand-gripped knob. And it provided a bath at pony temperature and depth and privacy, along with enough space for those who still considered such things to be social occasions and had no idea that the custom had begun among those who had lived in the Discordian Era and recognized when they would be at their most vulnerable, then made sure to gather in numbers so that there was always somepony who could be on lookout.

Just about everypony had used that bath, soaked among thick wooden walls and well-smoothed stone. And then Joyous had gone in. Alone, with everypony else cleared to another floor, out of range from the mists. It wasn't as if she could bathe with the Hoovmat suit on, and there was a chance waiting to be taken.

Was she reluctant to remove the suit, the only thing which let her exist among others with any degree of safety? Was she starting to resent it on some level, feeling the eyes of those around her travel across the fabric, seeing the problem instead of the pony? Was there relief at being free of confinement, that beautiful fur touched by the air again, her snout able to take in the comforting scent of the potential cure instead of the near-sterile, charcoal-tinged sameness which was all the filters would allow through?

There was no way to know, for when the door opened, the suit was already off.

"Princess?" A little surprise. Fear... well, perhaps there might have been some of that, but it had diminished, hadn't it? In fact, if it were to be quantified, the most appropriate digit to represent the current amount just had to be zero. Joyous knew her, knew she would never do anything to hurt her. Knew she was... safe.

"I thought somepony should supervise," Celestia gently said as she came all the way into the room, her right hind leg carefully kicking the door shut behind her.

"I'm..." Nervous? Of course Joyous was nervous. She was about to take a chance. "I'm just going to wash..."

"I know," Celestia smiled. "And if it works -- you'll need somepony who can tell you. Immediately. You don't exactly affect yourself, Joyous. The only way to prove a cure is to be in the presence of another, somepony who can honestly tell you if they're being affected or not. So I'm just here as your test subject. And -- I hope -- somepony to celebrate with, or... talk to, if it doesn't work, and I hope it does, I hope... But we're close to the flowers now, Joyous. We'll be in that area tomorrow. So if this doesn't work... give us a little more time."

Those brilliant yellow eyes looked at her for a moment. All of her. Celestia wondered how she felt about what she was seeing.

"I -- okay."

Celestia nodded, sat. Joyous' head tilted down and her nimble mouth took the lid off the pot, then lowered again for the grip. She carefully poured most of the contents into the pool.

"I... just get in, right?"

"Yes," Celestia told her. "But give it some time. I don't know what the Doctors Bear told you about Poison Joke, but... even if this works, it may need a while to truly soak in. Any oils which were bonded to you have been there for a very long time. You may need to stay in the water for more than a simple dunk. In fact, I'd recommend several minutes."

Joyous carefully nodded. Her left foreleg carefully reached out, dipped a hoof in the water past the ankle. Testing temperature, as the bath began to foam.

"It smells nice," Joyous softly observed.

"Zebras generally respect all the senses," Celestia smiled. "Even when treating illness. They're the only species I know of which can almost make medicine taste neutral. Go ahead, Joyous."

Slowly, the pegasus slipped into the bath, moving down the foam-concealed mini-ramp. The shade of the fur changed as the liquid soaked in, and Celestia noted the way the little reflections altered with it.

Time passed. Joyous with her body low in the water, not really looking at anything other than the curved walls of the pool. Celestia watching.

Steam filled the room, bringing a little of the mixture's scent to Celestia, along with a hint of its hue. It was something very much like a violet mist.

"Do you..." Joyous swallowed. "Do you feel any different? About... me?"

Celestia sighed, and even to her own ears, it had a matronly sound. She hated that.

Patiently, "Joyous."

"...Princess?"

Keeping her words gentle, "Your head. Your spine. You need either complete immersion or a thorough scrubbing."

"...I know," the beautiful pegasus eventually said. "I just have trouble staying under for that long. Plus when I get my eyes close to the water, they start to sting a little. And really washing up... there's no showerhead here, and it would just rinse everything away..."

Celestia smiled. "Do you know the other reason ponies generally bathe in groups?"

A long pause, part of which was probably being used for desperate attempts to remember any primary reason. "No..."

"We are horrible at scrubbing behind our own ears."

Joyous giggled. It was quick, instinctive, stopped quickly -- but it had been a giggle.

"Anatomy," Celestia ruefully shrugged. "What can we do? Even unicorns have trouble using their fields on any part of their body they can't directly see. The invention of the shower came because having somepony dump a bucket of water over your head to rinse created the opportunity for too many pranks. But you need a complete scrubbing, Joyous, and on a level you really can't do yourself. To make sure every tenth-bit of possible oils has been removed."

Joyous nodded, and that too might have been instinctive --

-- but that was when Celestia stood up.

"Move over a little?"

"...Princess?"

"I'm going to wash your back," Celestia gently told her, taking that first step forward. "And your mane. Your face, of course: it's a little awkward to do your own face without a sponge to rub against, and we both forgot to soak the ones mounted on the wall. So move forward a little, Joyous. I'm coming in."

And Joyous moved.

To another pony, a neutral witness, one with a mind untouched by mist, it might have seemed that she moved a little too quickly. That she, in fact, was scrambling to get as far away from Celestia as possible, was searching for any possible exit -- but there was but one ramp, and one door. Celestia was approaching the first, could easily block the second.

"Princess -- Princess, I don't think --"

Celestia's eyes closed.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," she whispered.

"Princess?"

"And there it is again." Equally soft.

"I... I don't understand --"

"-- you say it as if it's my name. So many ponies do that. 'Princess' this, 'Princess' that. As if it's the only way they can address me..." Pained now, "I hate most of our formal terms of address, did I ever tell you that? 'Fillies.' 'Gentlecolts.' We remove years from adults when we greet them, and... I wonder if that started with me, somehow. Because nopony ever truly felt like an adult if I was there, not with their seeing me as so old. Even for those who don't just see the title, who don't even respect that title, they see the age and..."

There were no words for a few seconds. Just steam, and mists, and a pony huddled against the far edge of the pool.

"...I wasn't that old," Celestia said. "Sometimes, I want to think I'm still not that old, not in my head. And then I remember... everything, and everypony, and..."

She heard the confusion, and chose to interpret it as the tone of a pony who heard her pain, who wanted to help, and perhaps there was something of that. But no part of her acknowledged the terror. "...Princess?"

Her eyes opened, and her gaze was not angry. Simply... weary. Burdened. Old. And a few of her next words had been said before, during those times over the centuries when everything had kicked her at once. They were the words which made seneschals. The words of trust. But now...

"My name," she quietly told Joyous, "is Celestia Invictus." She could barely see the bathroom now. The steam billowed, shifted, formed pony bodies in the mists which dissipated far too quickly. "I was the third of seven children. Luna is the fifth. We're roughly two years apart: I know that much, but... not what our birthdays are, because in our time, Sun and Moon and seasons... it was hard to keep rough time for any kind of calendar. I don't know what day I was born, because we didn't have names for days or moons, only a few places understood real seasons, and then only until He decided to take that away. The days ponies mark on the calendar as our birthdays are actually the dates of major events in the fight against Discord. I don't know how they were picked, or changed. Just that... suddenly, the herd had decided it was my birthday, and..."

She lived a lie. She celebrated lies.

Only one weak word came back. "...seven?" A desperate attempt to find a place Joyous could plant her hooves in a world overturned.

"Five fillies, two colts. But we were the only ones who lived long enough to... think about having children of our own. You didn't have to be very old for that in the Discordian Era, Joyous. Mares were expected to produce as many foals as they could because... so many foals died. My youngest sister was stillborn, and my parents never even named her. I hated that, I hated them for that. She came into the world without life, and there were times when I thought she had been the lucky one. But to leave without a name... I think of her as Imbri, and... I buried her, while my mother cried, because she was one of the few who still cried at all. My father wouldn't even bother with that. He didn't come to the funeral -- we still had them, because we had to have something: even if we didn't believe in it any more, we still went through the motions, some of us. But he didn't come, and maybe that was the first sign that he was... slipping. I should have..."

Was Joyous frozen with shock, listening to the words so few had ever heard? Was there compassion in her eyes, hearing the pain which had never truly faded? What did Celestia want to be happening?

"I had a mother," the oldest mare in the world somehow made herself continue. "I had a father. And he died, just before everything truly began. The last thing that happened before... everything else -- was his funeral. And then somepony crashed into my life, crashed right in front of me, Luna and I left the barricade point, because we had to, and we only saw our mother again once, long after she was already dead. I went into chaos because I was tired, because I hated our world, the way we all had to live from day to day while we were really just waiting to die, and... all we had was now --"

She saw Joyous then, or at least her shape.

"-- he was a pegasus."

"...he?" The only word to remain.

"He tried to make me... appreciate now," Celestia went on as the tears began to fall. "Because it was all we had. And there were times when he did it, at least for a few minutes. But I didn't listen most of the time, because I was fighting for tomorrow. And when Discord fell... I got what I wanted. Tomorrow. And it's all I won, Joyous. That there would be a tomorrow -- and a tomorrow, and a tomorrow, for as long as I kept them coming. That tomorrow depended on me, on us, and it was too... it was just the two of us, after a while, and then it was just me, and it was too late for now..."

Sobbing, nearly lost in the steam. She didn't know whose it had been.

"My name is Celestia Invictus," she said. "There were no windigos absorbing love in a cave. There certainly wasn't a seashell, or three ponies experiencing a single rather unique event. I had a mother, and a father, and sisters and brothers and friends and companions and I carry their shadows with me in every moment of my life. Virtually everypony I've ever known is dead. I eat and breathe and feel and hurt in every second somepony screams in agony about the prayers I never answered, prayers I can't even hear. I'm a pony, Joyous. It's all I've ever been, all I ever will be. And right now, I am a pony who's going to wash your mane."

She took another step forward.

"Prin --" Quickly, cutting herself off, "-- Ce -- Celestia? Please, please listen to me, you have to --"

"-- it has to be done," Celestia interrupted. Smiling through the tears, "But we'll make it fair, like the old days. You can wash mine."

Joyous blinked. Because there was fear (which Celestia couldn't see) and there was confusion (which was only to be expected), but that still left room for a moment of absolute bewilderment.

"...wash your -- how is that even -- I don't..."

Celestia giggled, and to her, the sound was young.

"Oh, right!" she laughed. "Give me a moment..."

She concentrated, and the semi-tangible collapsed into the real.

Joyous blinked again, which mostly served to repress the inadvertent, fully unintended snort.

"Well, there you go," Celestia ruefully declared, adding a small, regretful shrug to the very end. "One of Equestria's greatest secrets."

Her hair fell about her head, with just enough of it in front of her left eye to regrettably see. It was manure-brown (and multiple horrible shades of it), a color which would forever seem filth-encrusted even when perfectly clean, tangled and twisted and slightly more prone to natural knots than a certain weather coordinator was to naps.

Joyous stared -- and then she giggled. For the hideousness of that mane and tail (or at least what Celestia would always see as such) had wrought a miracle. It had brought about a moment of normalcy.

"That... kind of needs some combing," the pegasus giggled.

"It eats combs," Celestia told her, face completely straight.

Almost laughing now, "...really?"

"Don't ask what it does to brushes. I always hated my mane, Joyous, always. I couldn't do anything with it for more than a few seconds at a time before it would rebel, and it always won. There weren't many times when I wanted to do something -- but whenever I went to war with it, I got creamed. There's new treatments now, I know: straighteners and shampoos which we didn't have, but I haven't exactly gone to a groomer and asked for a professional makeover because everypony just knows the flow, and... well... I'd kind of have to show them this... you can see how that might be a little embarrassing..."

They were both giggling.

The curiosity was only natural, and Celestia was glad to hear it in Joyous' voice, for it meant the pegasus was talking to her -- normally. "Your -- usual mane and tail. Are they illusions?"

Celestia shook her head. "I'm -- well, the way I ultimately wound up thinking of it most of the time is that I'm carrying more magic than anypony's really meant to, and that's just how it expresses itself. But when I try to be a little more truthful with myself, I do wonder if it was something under the surface. Wish fulfillment. That because there was magic, and I hated my mane and tail so much, that's where the magic went. Luna's natural color is light blue: a lot of Ponyville residents saw it after she Returned, before she recovered any strength. And she's never liked it very much, even though her hair has consistency instead of chaos. After a while, she had -- what you see now. Admittedly, the stars and constellations within are a little on the dramatic side, but that's just Luna..." A deliberate pause. "Drama Princess." And then a wink.

Joyous laughed.

She was truly laughing. She was happy, if only for that suddenly-precious now. And in Celestia's mist-clouded eyes, that could mean only one thing: it had worked. They'd connected. Joyous was seeing her as a pony...

And so Celestia, smiling, began to move forward again.

Joyous froze.

"So let's wash up," Celestia told her. "I'll take care of you... and then you'll take care of me... and we'll... take care of each other..."

I'm tired.

She often felt that way.

Her forehooves slipped into the water.

"Prin -- Celestia, please, you have to listen to me, you have to listen, you're --"

I'm tired of the burden. The responsibility. The duty.

That too.

Her hind legs were wet now.

"...I know, I take up a lot of room, but I didn't always, Joyous. I was always on the tall side, but I remember what it was like to be on your scale, and I know how to be careful. I even made diagrams, just in case I -- well, they're pretty easy to memorize..."

"-- you have to think, please, Sun and Moon, please, you need to think --"

And the next thought came in the old way.

I'm tired of being alone.

She lowered her body into the little cloud of bubbles which had been raised by the shivering. Gently arced her head forward, eyes half-closed. Seeing only what she wanted to see.

"...it's okay, Joyous. As long as we always watch out for each other, we'll always be okay --"

"NO!"

Celestia pulled back.

Not by much. A quarter-hoofstep at best. But her body pulled back, and her neck went up, her ears flattened in confusion, she looked down at Joyous, too far down, and there was a moment when she saw --

-- the last moment before the door, kicked open with a force which would have taken a minotaur on red-tinge to equal, broke in half.

"And here you are!" Luna snarled. The dark body stalked into the steam, into the mists, quickly closing in, anger negating focus. "I was wondering why I had not found you, when we still need time to plan with the flowers so close, and so I wandered this facility until I finally heard Joyous, perhaps just in time. I did not presume that you would dare to do this, sister, and that was my mistake, to think that you would not attempt to share a bath with her...!"

Celestia's wings flared, splashed the walls as they got her out of the water. "She needed help with the washing! She had to be scrubbed --"

"-- you need help with your lies!"

The elder landed on the edge of the pool. Her horn ignited, matching the full single corona being displayed by Luna, right down to the spikes of rage. "She was listening to me! To me, Luna! I told her about -- look at me! Look at my mane! I showed her -- because I wanted to, and she understood, she understood me and we were going to --"

"-- we guard each other," Luna hissed, "and it would seem that one needs more guarding than the other. At the moment you could only see my tail, as soon as you felt you could betray --"

Twin rumbles of thunder. Heat stalking the borders, cold rotating in concert, moving around the edges of the pool, in direct, mobile facing to each other. In eternal opposition.

"You don't understand --"

"-- I know all too well --"

"-- then maybe I should teach you --"

" -- as if you could ever win -- "

-- and the water hit them in their faces.

One vaporized most of it. The other had the majority fall away as hailstones. But for both, just enough got into their eyes to sting, they had to blink away the pain, and it left them free to see the pegasus whose wings had just sluiced across the pool's surface, breathing too heavily for the oxygen to do any real good. Body covered in water, potion, steam, and the froth of fear.

"DON'T FIGHT! NOT OVER ME! NOT EVER! DON'T -- DON'T FIGHT! YOU CAN'T EVER FIGHT...!"

Her wings flared, and before either could finish orienting themselves, a flash of metallic blue fled into the hall.

The sisters stared at each other, for what felt like more than a thousand years.

"...Luna?" the eldest managed.

"What -- what are we doing?" the younger breathed.

"It was me," Celestia just barely got out: half gulp, half gasp. "I was thinking about... it was... Luna, I was trying, I was --"

Luna's left forehoof came up, far too quickly. "You are rational? You recognize your own thoughts? You have control?"

"...yes. But --" pleading now "-- watch me. Make sure. Sun and Moon, I think -- you were just trying to stop me --"

"-- it was more than that --"

" -- but I was... I wanted her to understand me, to see me, to..."

...was I trying to seduce her? Through understanding? Through pity?

"Sister!" The word got the elder to refocus. "She has fled! Our priority is to find her! If she escapes into Mazein, retreats to another wild zone, or gives up on us --"

There might have been more words, but those were enough to put Celestia on the gallop. Luna caught up a moment later, matching pace, mutually following the trail of water spots across the carpet, both desperately hoping it didn't lead to a window.

A young endurance flier. They could each move faster than Joyous in the air, but a pegasus had just about every direction available to move in. Alert all the pegasi among the guards, fan out, cover everything possible, try to feel for the signature of her flight -- a residue of magic which would typically fade within seconds of her passage. Joyous could become lost in the night no matter what anypony did, shortly followed by becoming lost to the living --

-- but the trail stopped at a door. The one which led to Joyous' assigned room. And both heard the weeping within.

The siblings quietly looked at each other, and the only thing which prevented the moment from being the most awkward silence of their lives was the sheer volume of what had come before.

Finally, Celestia raised her right forehoof to knock -- then lowered it. With a timidity unfelt for years, "Joyous...?"

More crying, along with sounds of movement.

The words were too weak. Words almost always were. "...I'm sorry. I'm... I'm thinking, I promise, I'm thinking, and Princess Luna is right here with me, supervising. It's... I... I made a mistake, and... I'm sorry..."

The crying now seemed to be somewhat more muffled.

"...Joyous?"

Near-silence. A few last sniffs. And then the door opened.

Joyous, completely covered by the Hoovmat suit, stared up at them, eyes wet behind the panel.

"We'll be near the flowers tomorrow," she said.

They nodded, for neither knew what else they could do.

"The bath didn't work," she continued. "The magic should have come apart a little, right? Even without... scrubbing. I'll -- go back in." That triggered a shudder. "When I can, before we leave tomorrow. But -- I don't think it works. So we'll be near the flowers tomorrow, and..."

She took a deep breath. The exhale was forced through the filters.

"...it's like my mom and dam. I can't be affected, because... I'm already sick."

They hadn't wanted to think about it, and so both had carefully not done so. It hadn't stopped Joyous. Perhaps nothing would.

"I'm going in to harvest them. Alone."

Castration Anxiety

'Somepony has to tell me when I'm being stupid.'

It was a crucial task. One of the most crucial, and the same could be said when that unenviable labor was applied in Luna's direction. There always had to be somepony around who felt free to tell them when they were wrong, at least for those occasions when they actually were. But such ponies were hard to come by, and the scarcity of those who would treat the siblings normally was just one of the many reasons they needed to stand watch over each other.

Luna had to tell Celestia when she was being stupid, generally just before idiocy could actually occur. And typically, it would only be her --

-- which was just one reason why it came as a surprise to find they had a rather sudden, decidedly strident fresh volunteer for the task.

"NO!"

The thin stallion's forehooves slammed down onto the inn's low-set conference table, or at least did something which would have been a slam if it had been produced by a larger body. As it was, the two closest water mugs vibrated somewhat (or at least their contents did), and a notepad saw its partially-draping quill go slightly out of alignment.

"You're assuming!" Vanilla went on, not having wasted any time on checking his own results, at least not beyond the facial: the shock had already been banished from Celestia's features -- but it had been there long enough to register. "We don't know if a second exposure would do anything! It could intensify her condition right on the spot, or accelerate its progress, or -- you don't know, Princess, and you can't send --"

The soft words broke through it all, even with the little force they still possessed after pushing through the charcoal filters. "-- I'm right here, Doctor Bear."

He stopped. Four ponies and a single minotaur stared at the eyes which were all that could truly be made out of the beautiful features.

"It was my decision," Joyous quietly said. "Not hers. It's... always been my decision. To look for help. To trust in the treatments you offer me. To --" more softly, just for a moment "-- keep going at all. I don't know if it could make things worse. I just know I'm the only pony who can do it. Who should. I won't ask anypony else to risk themselves for me. It's my disease, my condition, my life. It's my life, all the way to the end. I'm going to harvest the flowers."

Chocolate's deeper voice was just as soft. "It could kill you."

"You don't know that it will," Joyous replied, her voice oddly steady. "You can't."

"You don't know that it won't," he countered. And it was followed by a statement: "The minotaurs who had this in their system -- when the intensity of their magic became more than their bodies could handle, they died. Ponies can die from magical overexertion. From committing too much of themselves. If your talent continued to strengthen at what we think is the current rate, you'd have time, Joyous: time for everypony to find something. But if it accelerated or jumped --"

"My parents were out there twice," she quietly cut him off. "At least. Are they twice as bad as I am? More?"

"We can't compare." Vanilla again, fury resumed, and Luna wondered just how much of that came from mists -- then saw his eyes, and realized nearly all of it had been produced by fear. A doctor's terror at potentially losing a patient who had decided not to be saved. "Two different kinds of talents. We know one exposure leaves red-tinge in the body, and now we know the Poison Joke cure doesn't scrub it off." Joyous had wrapped up her second bath an hour before the emergency Moon-lit conference, soaked wall sponges and all, with a line of summoned Guards watching the sisters all the way through it -- by royal order. "You couldn't stop producing pheromones after you finished: I didn't even need the filter spell to tell me that. You've had one exposure, and we don't know what a second one does." Bluntness, propped up by desperation. "Joyous -- you can't turn your talent off: that's been most of the problem all along. Talents are magic, magic takes energy, and that energy is produced normally: food and drink, calories and rest. Right now, even at your current strength, you're running at a level which your body can keep up with, at least when it comes to the energy demands, thaums and calories both. Your parents could always be confined: we could force them not to survey just by blocking them off from any chance at it. But you produce pheromones constantly. Even when there's nopony around. You have what we think is a base setting, something which would -- get attention. That can intensify. And --" he took a breath, swallowed most of it, visibly decided his only way through was forward "-- when you're among other ponies, the production steps up... Princess Luna proposed that there would be risk in exposing you to a crowd, if your body was trying to compensate for too many sapients being near you at once. That it could drain you into unconsciousness, or death. Your talent may not have a limit, but your body does, and -- a second exposure..."

He stopped. Partially because he'd run out of strength, at least until his next breath. Mostly because the words hadn't done anything but get Joyous to quietly change the direction of her panel-covered gaze, which was now focused on Luna.

She managed a breath. It seemed to take far more effort than it should have.

"The concept," Luna said, "did not arise until after the parade. I would not have risked even the most momentary suit breach had I believed --"

"-- I'm glad you didn't think of it," Joyous softly broke in. "Not until after. But it doesn't matter, Princess. None of it matters. Somepony has to gather the flowers. You can't go in there. Nopony should. My mom and dam... don't understand the risks, because they're not the ones thinking about them, and the disease can't think at all. I do understand. I understand that..."

Joyous took a slow breath of her own, and her wings rustled against the interior of the suit.

"...there are minotaurs dying. There could be other ponies, and maybe they'll reach the point where they're dying too. There's my parents, and... it could be so much worse than that, if this keeps spreading. I understand that somepony has to take a chance. Somepony who... doesn't have a lot to lose. Doctors, you told me about how the patient-physician relationship works. You can propose anything -- but as long as I can still think for myself, I'm the one who has to decide whether to let you do it. It's always been my decision, to look for help, to try and get better. When it was just me, it was my decision: nopony else's. And now... there's others involved, and... it's still my decision." Just barely audible, and all the more forceful for it. "I'm going in."

Ten seconds passed, and no one could speak. Twenty found no words waiting within. Thirty...

Torque's snort was an exceptionally low-powered specimen: a simple notice of words about to emerge. "You lived in Mazein for about eight moons, Joyous. Right?"

She blinked, then nodded.

"Not long enough to call you a citizen, then," he sighed. "Too bad, because you'd fit right in. You sure picked up the native stubbornness..."

The movement within the fabric covering her snout almost suggested a smile.

"As your doctor --" Vanilla started, making one last try.

"-- drop it," Chocolate cut him off as the brown eyes closed. "She's right. It's her call in the end. It always was."

"She could die." The final protest of a physician who saw it as the greatest offense in the world.

"She could live," Chocolate said, still refusing to look at his partner. "It's her chance. Let her take it."

Vanilla pulled back from the table, hooves skidding across the wood, and dropped onto the floor. His body scooted a few hoofwidths to the left. Away from Chocolate.

Luna allowed the silence to continue until she was personally fed up with it, then kicked it out of the room. "We can at least be assured," she dryly told the gathering, "that this raid will not suffer from overplanning. Shall we finalize our intentions, at least for what can exist before reality naturally forces us to adjust?"

Celestia managed a nod, and it was a sign of just how much the night had worn on the elder that the effort was visible. "We'll hit them at sunset, or as close to it as we can manage. That allows me to be fairly strong and Princess Luna to be relatively fresh, even if she has to be up a few hours early to prepare. It's also the point of a natural shift change: if we're lucky, we can catch them while they're switching up. I'd prefer dawn, but -- let's take the extra hours. As long as some of them are tired and the new group isn't quite attuned to their duties yet, it'll suffice."

The first part had gotten Torque's attention. "About that 'we' --"

Luna sighed. "We will not go among the flowers," she told the big bull. "We will be in our own suits, and we will stay well back. Additionally, there are other precautions we can take before the suits are donned. But they are custom-fitted, Ambassador. There are no pegasi among the Guards who exactly match Joyous' dimensions: we can check for an acceptable degree of variance, but we cannot ask anypony to use her spares while being assured of protection. I am certain that none of the unicorns have a build which matches either of the doctors. There are only four who could watch her from afar. The risk is hers, yes. But she should not have to face it alone."

It drew an instant protest from Joyous. "You can't! If anything happens --"

"-- if anything happens to you," Luna countered, "somepony has to be there. It will be you among the flowers, Joyous: my sister and I will not venture that far. But you will know we are close. And if our precautions hold..."

"And what," Torque challenged as his eyes started to phase towards orange, "kind of precautions are we talking about?"

Luna glanced at Celestia, who nodded. "Some of them are what we were discussing during our earlier meetings," the elder said. "We came up with a few others while Joyous was --" the wince could not be fully hidden, and the restored mane slowed its flow "-- trying the potion bath again. Torque, I know you're worried. I understand why. But it's what Luna said: there are four ponies who could follow her. We're two of them. We won't get close enough to be affected."

"That you know of." The snorts were starting to come faster now, and the big hands were beginning to clench.

"We are in Mazein," Luna shot back, "and the flowers are close. Your weather is not managed in any way other than moderating or eliminating emergencies, Ambassador. Has your natural breeze blown across their crop areas tonight before moving towards the inn? Are we breathing? If you wish for us to cover every possible scenario, then let us include the one where it is already too late, for why should we favor only those probabilities which do not end the world? The most likely causes of infection remain pollen and oils. We can stop both."

"We can stall," Torque volleyed. "We'll get more suits. We can have some made for minotaurs. We don't have to do this right now. There's still time to --"

"-- nineteen," Celestia said, and it was almost enough.

The bull's breathing slowed. But his hands did not relax, and his gaze only paused in its march towards red. "Nineteen what?"

"Nineteen red-tinge cases in your hospitals," Celestia told him. "And you know that, Torque, because you were there when Referee Moonsault sent copies of those files to the embassy, just before we left Polis. Nineteen that Mazein knows of at all, just the ones which reached the visible stage. Four of those will be dead in less than a moon. How much time would you like us to stall?"

More slowly still, but with the yellow slowly returning to his eyes, "If it's the four of them versus the two of you... I know which ones the world needs more."

"Ambassador, will you trust us not to be stupid?" Luna's words were measured. "To be aware of the risks, and to have planned for them? It is not our first raid. I admit that it is our first in some time, but we have a rather good idea of what to do, even in those cases where we cannot directly participate in the final stages. And as I had already said --" this with a slow smile "-- your weather? Is not managed. There are certain things which a pony would question simply because it broke the schedule. In Mazein -- why, anything could happen..."

The big hands opened.

"Not your first raid," Torque said.

They shook their heads. Celestia's version of the movement carried a light tinge of lingering embarrassment.

"You've had interesting lives," the ambassador noted.

Luna took a moment to silently bask in the understatement. Celestia simply said "At the most, we could come back this way at the end of the tour -- but given the time required to make and test new suit patterns, all the extra days might create is more cases. There's enough time left in this night for us to plan, tell the Guards that we're going through with this, wait for them to yell themselves out, then get some sleep. We can finalize details on the way. We're doing this tomorrow. Ideally, Joyous goes in, gathers the specimens, and gets out without being seen. We retreat to where the doctors can start their testing, and come back with a full force once we can protect everyone involved."

"And if it gets more complicated than that?" Torque quietly asked.

"It likely will," Luna told him. "It was among our earliest lessons in warfare, Ambassador." And in that next sentence, her voice was not entirely her own. "'The world neither cares about nor feels obligated to cooperate with your plans.' All we need to do is show the world that when it comes to its desires, we care and cooperate even less..."

But the last word belonged to Joyous.

"Promise me something." Looking from younger to elder in turn.

They waited for her.

The voice was young in many ways, even with those scant years weighed down by so much. There were others in which it was weary, and at least one where some hope could still be found. But it was impossible to listen and not hear maturity.

"If anything happens," Joyous told them, "if there's any chance your suits might be breached, if there's any risk to you at all -- you get out. Even if you have to leave me there. I'm... not that important. And you are. So... please. If you're coming -- then tell me that if you have to -- you'll just... go."

They promised, nearly in chorus, almost with one voice. And as soon as the pegasus looked away, Luna glanced at her sibling, wondering if the elder had been lying. It would have been such an easy lie. But Celestia would not meet her eyes, and Luna didn't know if it was from shame, self-hatred about the necessity of that promise --

-- or because she hadn't wanted to look at Luna. Just in case there was a lie looking back.

Five ponies moved through the forest of the wild zone. They skirted the edge of the new road: staying close enough to keep it in some level of sight, far enough away that their forms would be difficult to make out at best, and at worst... well, they had taken certain precautions there.

Celestia stepped carefully over the wet ground, trying not to overreact at the sound of every squelch or tiny crack produced by movement over natural mulch and fallen twigs. Every so often, she would raise a forehoof and examine the new shading of the Hoovmat suit -- or rather, the enforced stains. Dark greens, moderate browns, hints of a more natural yellow. The fresh dappled pattern covered everything but the clear panel over her eyes, and she had stained the fur of both lids and lashes.

Camouflage colors. It had, in fact, been a very long time -- long enough that both siblings had required supervision in their painting from a few of the Guards, who had... not been happy about it. Their job was to keep the sisters from encountering potentially fatal risks. Their duty was to ignore the orders which told them to allow both Solar and Lunar Princesses to trot towards danger without them. But there were no suits available for use: Joyous' spares had been tried and rejected by the two pegasi who came close enough, and as for the spares of the Doctors Bear -- one was too thin, the other too fit: none of the unicorns on staff had been able to manage.

So it was four of them in Hoovmat suits, painted to match what they'd hoped would be the dominant colors of the wild zone. And there was Joyous, whose fur had simply been dyed. The reflection natural to a metallic had been lost under multiple layers of soakings and self-applied touch-ups with a long-handled flexible brush (for neither sister had been willing to allow themselves to be so close). She was brown and green and yellow and... trotting. Slowly, quietly trotting, keeping pace with the others as they moved through damp grass, following the altered direction of the wind.

It had been part of the precautionary measures. Mazein knew about weather magic and as Luna had noted on the previous night, outside of a crisis, they generally wanted no part of it, for minotaurs were strong enough to take on a little weather. So outside of disasters (plus those sporting events and special occasions that needed clear skies), the nation allowed the air to do whatever it wanted. There was no weather schedule: simply a guessing game of what any day might bring, assisted by barometers, anemometers, and occasionally raising a saliva-dampened finger into the wind.

With a pony settlement, any breaking of the schedule would draw questions. In Mazein, there was no schedule, and so the pegasi among the Guards had followed the only instructions anypony had been even remotely happy with. A small storm had been sent across the wild zone earlier in the day, wetting down the ground and quieting movement. It would have moved over the flowers, and so pollen would be weighed down with water, unlikely to be caught by the wind -- a wind which had still been ordered to shift, with every breeze now gusting towards the buildings, away from the edge of the growers' territory. Away from where siblings and physicians would be watching.

Currently, the sky was heavily overcast. Celestia had been taught many things about weather, including how it could play a psychological role in warfare. In her youth, a heavily overcast sky... well, there were many reasons to watch for danger from above, and the shift of hues could indicate just what kind of danger was coming, along with how little chance anypony had to survive it. But in the modern day, heavily overcast could weigh on one's thoughts. A gloomy sky might inspire a degree of the same in those below it. It slowed reflexes. It could have a little portion of the mind wondering about any deluge to come, which initially left that much less focus for everything else. And for those who had lived through the Discordian Era, it meant that somewhere, there just might be incoming pegasi raiders who'd sent their ammunition up ahead.

The minotaurs who ran the crop area... probably weren't thinking that way. Oh, there was likely some degree of alertness which was triggered by a sky filled with the potential for storms, because there were ponies among Mazein's police and sending your ammunition ahead had never really gone out of style. But to them, 'extremely cloudy' would not represent 'sixty percent chance of rain, with a fifteen percent chance of electrical death.' At most, it was a reason to watch the sky. And they weren't coming from the air, so getting those on the ground to look up only helped.

They'd been making their way through the wild zone for nearly two hours. Their excuses had been made earlier in the day. Once everyone was asleep (or at least in their bedrooms), time had been claimed for the lie of a high-altitude, cloud-shrouded night overflight, far too high up for anything to reach or see them (along with being at too great an altitude for any attempt at harvesting flowers), and that had finally allowed them to bring out their map. Everyone had been -- less than thrilled about it, even when assured that no one had spotted them. Which had been only a partial truth: everyone tended to spot Sun.

Torque hadn't been happy. No one had been, and nopony. The doctors had almost broken out a new round of tests on the spot. But in the end, the phantom scouting trip had been accepted as reality, and so they had their guide: the main road they could follow towards the local minotaur settlement, along with the place where five slipped away from the carriages and began making their way down the new, shrouded highway -- while initially cloaked by a pair of Luna's illusions. Ponies made of imagination occupied those abandoned carriages until the vehicles were out of sight, and a patch of dreamed-up air covered those who were on their way.

Luna couldn't render ponies invisible, not truly. Invisibility was... complicated, especially in the way a concealed pony interacted with their environment. But she could drape multiple bodies in a form of camouflage which no dyes could match, at least for a little while --

-- but then they'd gone off the main road. And Luna had already had an illusion running for some time, since the painting had finished in mid-afternoon. She had replaced dye-created hues with their natural ones just in case anyone had a chance to peer past the shifting curtains of the carriage, occasionally (and irritably) asking everypony to just stop moving. She'd finally dropped everything -- and then the suits had been donned, along with the few pieces of equipment they'd brought with them. For the flowers they knew of were in a single crop area. Those they potentially weren't aware of -- was, outside of the exposure chance, actually the best-case scenario: to find a few wild blooms long before reaching the growers. It hadn't happened.

They were moving through the wild zone, approaching the border of the growers' camp. Protected and, simultaneously, something far too close to helpless.

There had been some time and so the sisters had experimented, finding out what the limits of their magic were when confined in the suits. The results had not been promising. For pegasus magic, their fields conducted poorly, and the limits placed on the movement of their wings further restricted what they were able to manage. With unicorn workings... the covering of their horns created interference. They could fight through it, but the results were not ideal: for starters, neither had been able to hide their field. Every projection was fully visible, most of them gave off some degree of sparks, and the one way they each had of potentially eliminating all resistance while remaining within the suits was -- something Celestia had thought about, seen Luna doing the same, and neither had discussed it with the other.

Celestia had already been desperate enough to send herself into Sun in search of the flowers: a level of desperation she hadn't experienced in two hundred and seventy years. As it turned out, there was a place beyond that. A location both siblings knew by heart, and one where neither wanted to go. They had sworn --

Still... there were things they could do without resorting to that. And the suits restricted their magic -- but the garments did not confine their senses.

"Stop," Celestia whispered.

The group froze.

"Move left."

"What is it this time?" Vanilla, just barely audible. "Another metal spring-clamp, or...?"

"A pit," Celestia softly replied. "With spikes at the bottom."

He stared ahead at the leaves which covered the forest floor.

"A pit?"

"Three times my height," Celestia told him. "You don't want to know how tall the spikes are, Doctor. Move left."

He looked at her for a moment.

"That metal-detection spell?"

She knew one. She had been casting it repeatedly (if only when she was sure no one would see the sparks: the interference was also hurting the duration of her workings). Knowing about the pit had been no part of it. "Yes. To the left, please. Carefully."

Slowly, the group shifted sideways until Celestia nodded, then began going forward again.

"How about that plant detection spell?" Chocolate asked for the tenth time.

Luna's irritation was perfectly audible to the group, but went no further. "And why is this being brought up again?"

"It could tell us if we're on track if we lose the road for a while," Chocolate tried, also for the tenth time. "How close we are, or if there's anything wild in the area, so we don't have to get close at all --"

"-- it is useless," Luna insisted with the exasperation of somepony who knew the ideal number of times to tell a lie was one.

"How can it be useless?" Chocolate continued in false valiance. "It finds plants! We're looking for --"

"-- if I could recognize the sound of a lyre," Luna told him, tone slowly dropping into danger, "in open air, every time one was played, then I could tell you exactly which direction the musician could be found in. However, in the center of a concert hall, with a hundred or more instruments playing at the same time, I might have some difficulty rotating my ears to a precise angle." The dark eyes glared through the clear panel, and no amount of shielding could have kept the unicorn from being driven back half a hoofstep by the sheer force. "When I tell you that a spell is currently useless, Doctor Bear, please trust me that it. is. useless. We are on the right path, facing in the proper direction, and we will reach our destination by the set time. Given the progress we have made thus far, we may even need to stall somewhat before we make our move."

"Does anypony know what time it is?" Vanilla wondered, mostly as a means of changing the subject.

"Forty-one minutes until Sun-lowering," Celestia automatically replied.

He stared at her.

"You just know that."

She nodded, and the fabric around her mouth crinkled from the underlying smile.

They advanced a few more hoofsteps. The sisters checked the area around them, and then they all risked a few more.

"Still no magic," Celestia softly stated.

"Be thankful," Luna replied. "The mundane has been bad enough. The tripwires are well past the point of infestation, and if it was not for your having spotted that one net..."

She nodded. "It doesn't mean we won't find any when we get closer," Celestia reminded them. "Just that they didn't use any this far out. Don't make any assumptions. If anything's going to kill --" she spotted the triggered expression crossing Vanilla's face just a little too late -- "get us, it's going to be telling ourselves we know something when we don't. We'll keep checking all the way in."

Luna's left forehoof carefully pointed out the next tripwire, which itself had been draped in greenery -- unintentionally: it looked as if the vine had simply grown along it. The group shifted again.

"Not camouflage," the younger observed. "Neglect. We have been on the alert for patrols -- but I am wondering if they even know where to patrol. Not only have we seen little sign that the defenses are being monitored, but I have yet to spot any blazes or symbols which would tell anyone where it was safe to step. Simply memorizing all that we have seen..."

"They may be new at this," Celestia considered. It took a certain amount of ego to treat traps as self-maintaining, and more than a little delusion to believe that you'd personally be able to remember where you put them all. Lack of experience could figure into that. "Still... it's an assumption. Keep it in mind, but don't commit." The next part was directed towards the increasingly-shaken doctors. "Even new and naive can surprise you."

Vanilla glanced down at his right forehoof. He'd been doing that a lot, mostly to make sure it was still attached. It had taken one metal clang to teach him that he needed to stop exactly on the sisters' orders, along with the seconds he'd spent lying among the leaves after Luna had knocked him out of the way.

"You don't have to come any further, Doctor," Celestia offered again. "We can just pick you up on the way back. Both of you."

He shook his head.

"Neither of you are combatants," Luna reminded them. "Physicians, at least for those in the modern day, are not expected to see direct battle. There is no need for the two of you to put yourselves at any degree of risk."

Chocolate swallowed. "We..."

Vanilla gasped his next breath. "We sort of..."

The sisters waited, with Joyous pausing in well-learned tandem.

"...fit the suits," they mutually concluded, and Chocolate went on from there. "We're the only ones who do. And... five is better for a herd than three, Princesses. If we're the ones who can come along, then we'd better be here. We still have a patient to look after."

Vanilla nodded and they both advanced a little more, although only after Celestia did.

"How are you feeling, Joyous?" Vanilla asked.

"I'm fine," the pegasus quietly said.

His eyes went over the heavily-dyed, completely exposed fur. "I still don't like having you out in the open like this. If you were in your suit --"

Celestia's soft sigh was mostly meant to be a means of cutting off Luna's increasing irritation. It partially worked. "Doctor, we've been over this. Repeatedly. Joyous can't bite down on the flowers when her mouth is covered, not with the limitations of the fabric around the snout: Luna and I proved that when we were testing. She doesn't have a unicorn field and even if she did, working through the suit would either give her trouble or completely stop her. And -- one of us needs to be able to move in a hurry. Teleporting somepony when you're several body lengths away from them is effectively impossible without the suits, and we'll be watching from at least that much distance. She needs to be capable of getting in the air."

"It's guaranteeing another exposure," Vanilla pointed out.

"It's my choice," Joyous softly reminded him.

Most of the full-body wince was visible through his eyes. "At least use the mouth guard," the smaller stallion asked. "I don't want you swallowing the stuff."

She nodded, and Celestia watched Luna's posture as it further sagged into concern. They wanted to do their part. They didn't believe there was any real chance for the disease to spread simply through encasing the flowers in their fields. But they were having trouble with the suits, every effort they made to move something was extremely visible, and the one way of truly getting past it was -- the one way.

I could do it.

She had been desperate enough to reach up to Sun. What was stopping her here?

And with that thought, the memories played, right up until the very last.

That.

To call... it was just calling, wasn't it? In more realistic terms, it was simply bringing that aspect forward. Using it. Nothing was actually brought back. But within her inner vision, she still saw a face contorted almost beyond recognition, features distorted by the claim of its new owner and eyes which had turned red as blood, a memory which had made them swear...

"Sister?"

Celestia blinked.

"You are not moving," Luna said. "Did you see --"

"-- we're fine." It was only a little lie, and yet had to be told so much more than once. "Step forward. Carefully."

They had been taught by the greatest tactician of their (and possibly any) age: that was what Luna would always insist, and if she found herself insisting rather loudly, well, that was no less than what that one deserved. She remembered every word, every moment from each lesson, and sometimes across more hours than she probably should have spent reflecting on such things. But the time was worth it, even when the pain came, for as long as she remembered...

"Nopony's truly dead as long as their name's still spoken."

It was soft enough to be inaudible outside the suit. But still, Luna said it.

Unfortunately, her sister spotted the movement.

"What are you thinking?" came the whisper. It was just barely enough for Luna to hear: the other three remained unaware.

"Her first lesson." In this situation, there was no need to define 'her'. "The first, at least as our direct tutor."

The elder sighed. "'Plan: the name given to the thing which starts going wrong.' That one?"

"No other," Luna softly said. "So. Are we ready to -- adjust on the fly? Even when we personally cannot?"

And her sister responded with the second lesson. "We'll find out when it starts happening."

They gazed out across the cloud-altered grey light of setting Sun, looking at the flowers.

The growers had, to some extent, planned well: the wild zone had been thinned out near the border, giving any attempt to hide within very little space to work with. But they had their camouflage and combined with the continuing loss of light, the shading seemed to be enough. One minotaur on his way in from the sienna root patch had seemingly gazed right through them -- and then gone into one of the buildings, the one they had guessed to be living quarters.

Neither sibling was exactly ready to trust the casual nature of his movements. There was still a chance he could be heading in to sound an alert.

Celestia's instincts had borne fruit. Sunset was a natural time for shift change, and that was what seemed to be in progress. More minotaurs were heading in and soon enough, more would likely be heading out. Those on the retreat seemed tired, worn out from long hours on watch -- or simply spent at work, for there were no ponies anywhere, none at all, and the crops needed tending. Luna had known little about sienna root other than its effects, but just watching it being taken care of over the course of a few minutes seemed to prove it as immensely fussy stuff: the tangle continually being trimmed back as it tried to encroach on the narrow paths which ran between rows, new shoots wrapped in some kind of waxy paper, little sprinkles of water being granted to one section while excess moisture was patted off another. Strictly mundane tasks, as ordinary as the traps in the wild zone had been -- but in their way, also seeming just as tricky. Although it was possible that just about any activity would have appeared to be complicated by the suits.

For there were suits. They all had suits.

Mr. Hoovmat had done everything he could to block competition from reaching Equestria. But stopping manufacture in Mazein would have meant dealing with a different set of copyright and patent laws, not to mention incurring a certain requirement to spend money. Torque had been unaware of any such creations in his home, had been unable to track down any businesses which made them -- and yet there were suits.

From the outside, at least on first glance, they seemed much like standard Hoovmat suits. The color was somewhat more muted: much closer to ochre than yellow. The clear front panel was the same, and the sounds of snorts which emerged through what had to be charcoal filters were oddly distorted by their passage. But on closer inspection, the material looked rougher, less refined. The hands... the outer two fingers on each glove were ridged...

Luna frowned. "Lens, please." Celestia, crouched low next to her (or as low as she could be), slowly, carefully reached down, pressed her forehooves against the sides of one of their few carried pieces of equipment. Luna lowered her head, and her sibling's careful movement temporarily placed the binoculars over her eyes.

"Scissors," Luna eventually said. "The gloves have built-in scissors."

This frown was audible. "Built-in tools is about what I'd expect from minotaurs, but... unless that suit can't be accidentally cut..."

"Or they simply care so little about their workers," Luna said, and looked around a little more. The buildings were visibly new and, in some ways, expertly constructed. "There goes another... hmmm. Why is there a second door just past the first entrance to the building? And to have water nozzles and showerheads in the ceiling and walls..."

Celestia didn't know, and so they repeated it to the others. Chocolate came up with the answer. "It's a place to rinse off, Princess. They clean the exterior of the suits, then remove them."

They could hear Vanilla's smile. "Which means it's something that can be cleaned. Given the shorter visible onset time with minotaurs, they'd know if they were being infected any other way. We're dealing with pollen or oils, Princesses. Having anything phase through the suits is no longer an option. We can work with the flowers, as long as we stay protected. And we just might have another break -- it's possible that no one new might come out of those rinsing areas until the last minotaur's gone in from the current shift. We could wind up having a few completely clear seconds, if those sentries would just move... "

Everypony momentarily glanced up. The towers weren't that high: there was little reason to have them above the treeline. Just enough to survey the property from above, or keep an eye on the sky. Four of them, one at each corner, a minotaur in each. They had one small advantage in that their closest one wasn't: that tower had been set some distance away from the blooms. More space to cross before anyone could pass the flowers.

No such crossings had taken place. The workers were going in. The sentries remained at their posts.

"So we can go in ourselves?" Her sister's words had been instinctive. "Since we know our suits are enough --"

There was an odd force to Chocolate's words. "-- we know their suits are enough."

"We have proof," Celestia insisted. "Just the fact that they're using them is --"

"-- what were you saying about assumptions?" Chocolate interrupted her, and the force now came with more than a hint of desperation. "You can't risk yourselves, either of you. Wind, soaked-down pollen... it's still terrifying having you this close. We'll get the flowers. We'll do the tests. It's too early to trust in anything. We'll figure things out when we get to safety. When we know."

Luna forced her pulse rate to slow. "Your point has been made," she sharply whispered, "I would appreciate it if you would hold off on berating us with further repetitions until after the mission. During is starting to become annoying. However, when it comes to getting the flowers, we are early -- so unless we see our clear moment, we must wait. Joyous?"

The pegasus glanced up.

"Plan your path. Let us hope the Guards' aim is true. To send it across so much distance, through that much interference..."

"I can adjust it," Joyous quietly declared. "As soon as it gets here. I just need to touch an edge for a few seconds."

Luna blinked. "You are -- that expert with the technique? But you did not finish --"

"-- my parents are weather surveyors." She sighed. "I'm not. I never will be. But I learned some things. And... living in the fringe... I used that technique a lot."

Luna managed a nod. "Remember: the overhead clouds are not simply decoration. Should you encounter true difficulty, every one is charged and waiting for you. Your second responsibility in case of trouble is to clear the area with the flowers: your first is simply to get clear. But if you cannot flee immediately for any reason, there is lightning. Use it." After all, there was a reason for those long-dead raiders to have sent their ammunition ahead: because it usually worked.

Joyous nodded -- but her eyes were focused on the flowers. All of them had spent some time looking at the blooms during their wait: looking for approach paths, making sure the minotaurs who were leaving the area completely cleared it. But Luna had also found herself looking at the beauty of those petals, the seafoam washed across the land. They were magnificent blooms, more than fit to grace a garden. There were sections within the palace's own carefully-maintained settings where they would have fit in perfectly. Such as being set around the benches in the section which had originally been themed to Trottingham.

They were beautiful. They were deadly. And Joyous, looking out over the things which had unknowingly, uncaringly destroyed her family's lives, was waiting.

"Last review," Celestia whispered as the final yawning minotaurs began to move towards the buildings. "Joyous, work fast. Just pull the flowers out of the ground and head-toss them into your saddlebags. We didn't see any outer rim air defenses on the way in, magic or otherwise: I'm still not feeling any magic." (Luna nodded agreement.) "But we've got sentries in towers, and I haven't forgotten what a crossbow is. So we're going to the secondary departure plan: once you've got the samples, we'll go on the ground for a while, until we've got tree cover and we're out of range for arrows. Once that happens, get as much altitude as you can and get out of here. There's Guards waiting for you at the designated evacuation point." The distance had taken hours to carefully cross on hoof: it would be mere minutes in the air. "Once you're clear, we follow on the ground. If we need to make speed, we use their road -- carefully: remember, Princess Luna and I spotted a few traps there too. Taking off the headpieces and teleporting is reserved for --" she spotted Chocolate's look "-- Doctor, I'm fairly confident that the rain took out any pollen long before it reached the point where we first began working our way in. There is a safety zone. For starters, should we reach the central highway and still have pursuit on our tails, I'm going to take this thing off regardless of your opinion on the matter because in the worst case, we would have been infected just from going by earlier and there isn't much we can do about that. Also, the suits are just heat-resistant enough for me to burn off anything on the exterior without harming the occupants, especially since I can direct where the radiance goes. And if you're going to tell me that pollen or oils can affect us after having been turned into a fine coating of ash, you'll need to talk a lot faster than you already have."

"If we are under attack," Luna quietly finished, "we defend ourselves. However, if there is a risk of suit breach --" and her eyes briefly closed "-- my sister and I shall leave. We do not wish to abandon anypony. We will try to make sure everypony is safe. But in the end..." She couldn't make herself look at Joyous. "...we understand where our priorities must lie."

"Thank you," Joyous gently told her, and Luna heard the sincerity and gratitude. She hated herself for all of it.

Sun was almost completely down. It would be time for the formal stage of lowering within minutes, joined to Luna's moment for raising. It was something they could do without worrying about the suits: the thread ignored that covering in the same way it had ignored earth, stone, and metal. Their duties would not give them away. But only Luna could see in the dark, Moon would take some time to reach them, and Joyous... there wasn't enough heat in the area to let her steer purely on pegasus sight. She needed a little light, and the Guards' work --

-- billowed past them as a weak, tree-broken mass of nearly-dissipated wisps.

Joyous stretched out her wings as the early evening fog shifted around them, took a slow breath and moved her feathers. The vapor began to collapse inwards, gaining density, slowly obscuring vision.

A razorwhip of a tactic, Luna thought, watching the expertise being demonstrated. Double-edged. Pegasi within fog would steer on heat, as long as there was enough difference in temperature to work with -- something which could become self-sabotaging as the moisture chilled everything within it. However, a body moving through the fog would be warm enough to see -- for pegasi. The sisters could work with those senses. The doctors, however, would simply be peering into fog.

They are not combatants. As long as we can see what she is doing...

The sentries wouldn't be capable of perceiving Joyous. That was the important thing.

The sentries who still weren't moving.

The renewed fog began to sweep across the area, and the blooms slowly faded from sight.

"We may need a distraction," Luna whispered. "Something to take our tower's gaze away from the area. Which did you wish to try?"

"Lightning?" Celestia whispered back. "Can you manage it?"

"I seem to be," Luna wryly replied, "insufficiently irritated for a casual -- wait..."

A building door opened. Four minotaurs stepped out. All were in suits, and every last one carried at least three weapons strapped to their hips. They peered into the fog, with mist and headpieces rendering their expressions unreadable -- but the big hands shifted closer to the weapon grips.

"Crossbows," Celestia softly groaned. "Perfect. Daggers... did you ever think you'd miss the days when it was just -- wait, there they go --"

It was what the current shift had been waiting for. The fog had not quite reached the building, which left them able to see their replacements coming out. The sentry in the closest tower turned away, headed for the ladder to ground level. The four who had emerged turned to face different directions. None were looking towards the ponies.

"Go," Luna hissed.

Joyous stood up, moved forward. A glow of pony-shaped heat went into the fog.

They watched. They listened. And the minotaurs talked. The words were in Minotaurus, as might have been expected -- but the exceptionally tricky translation spell had been cast on them all by the one Guard who was capable of managing it, just before the suits had been donned for painting -- and the first word set the true duration running.

"Hey! Wait for me to get up there!"

"Are you kidding?" That from their own tower. "It's so damp, I swear I can feel it through my suit! I want to get inside before the rain breaks. Up in the tower with all the sides open, plus if there's any lightning... your shift, your problem." The sound was making its way down the ladder now. "I'm getting inside and getting some rest. You enjoy the weather."

"Weird weather," said the first minotaur. Slowly, "Real weird..."

Four ponies tensed.

"The clouds moved in hours ago," the departing minotaur said, voice now at ground level. "It's probably just a freak front. If something was backing this, it would have made a move by now."

"What about the fog?"

Luna could feel every hundredth of bale-weight of the suit, and it seemed to be pressing against her fur with a thousand times that amount of force.

"What about it? It's damp and Sun's being lowered. It's fog."

"Clouds," the new arrival said, "and fog."

That glow of heat turned, heading back towards the building.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

"Where you should have!" the first minotaur said. "Get back up there! He's gotta get his suit on!"

"But my shift's --"

"Get up there! Because if he even thinks you missed something, he's going to put you on the test squad! Want to guess what he'll do if there was something to miss?"

Luna was familiar with many kinds of silence. This one had been produced by fear.

"I'm going," their sentry swallowed. "I'm going. Tell him -- the fog came in as you were coming out, that's the truth, tell him I sent you back..."

They heard the door close. Hooves pushing against wooden rungs.

Luna stared out into the fog, found Joyous. There was a cooler object in her mouth: the protective guard. She was just about at the edge of the blooms.

Hurry... But it was no good. She could not send thoughts, and projecting the emotional resonance of worry would do nothing which the minotaurs' words hadn't. Joyous had heard all of it, the same as they had. She knew their time was limited.

"Is the fog thick enough?" Chocolate whispered. "I think I can almost make her out --"

"-- watch the tower," Luna hissed. "Concentrate on that. Watch the sentry. If he pulls a weapon, call out a warning. Can you do that?"

"...yes. But -- what are you going to do?"

"I am watching the door," Luna told him. "There is someone inside who needs to put on a suit. Someone they are afraid of, someone they may not make a move without. That is the one to be worried about. Unless Joyous is spotted, we may at least have until that one emerges. Sister -- the tower. If he draws a crossbow, can you --"

"-- through the suit?" She knew Celestia would be frowning. "Yes, I can grab it. But it'll give our position away."

"If he sees her," Luna forced out, "giving our position away is the least of our problems."

Where was that dangerous one within the building? How long to put on a suit? There would be hands involved: that suggested a rather speedy donning. How long did they have...?

She checked on Joyous, and the head movements were easy to make out. The pegasus was among the blooms, and a covered mouth went down, pulled, came up again. A distinctive shade of heat turned towards a cooler saddlebag, deposited something damp and chill...

How many times has she done that while we were talking? How many flowers does she have? Is it going to be enough?

Again. Again. Slowly, carefully moving not just around the edges, but a little deeper into the patch. Luna's guess was that she was trying to take from where the blooms were thickest, trying to make sure nothing would be missed.

That's enough, Joyous. What was the sentry doing? Where was he looking? That's enough. Come back. You have to come back...

The pegasus' head dipped. Over and over.

"Why is she still out there?" Only necessity kept it from being a shout. "She has to know --"

"-- we told her," Chocolate whispered, "that we might use one up for each test... she's been through so many tests herself, maybe she thinks --"

-- the door opened.

A very large bull emerged. There was a huge blade on the left hip of his suit, and it did nothing to take Luna's attention off the ancient thick goggles which covered the viewing panel. Goggles she knew just as well as she'd known the designer.

Signature scanner! He can see magic, any --

Too many things happened. Some of them were in rapid succession. A few were simultaneous. None were welcome.

The new bull bellowed. "It's a pegasus fog! It's fresh! We've got ponies! Find them! Make them dead!"

Joyous, within the blooms, heard the words, started to move, faster than she ever had. Movement which was spotted by the sentry in the tower.

The crossbow came up. Celestia's field ignited. Sparks flew through the fog as her corona tried to work through the material of the suit, glow lit up the mist and a flickering projection lanced forward, pulled the aim offline just as the startled minotaur yanked on the trigger. The bolt thudded into the ground, less than a body length in front of Joyous.

The new bull's head spun, drawn to the flash of fresh power and there was a roar, the furious sound of a minotaur who'd just been challenged. Hooves beat at the ground, that hideous short-term speed moving directly towards them, a path which would lead through the flowers --

-- something went past Luna on her right, mostly registered as a secondary level of shock which would have to be dealt with when there was time, there was never time in a fight, not when the first law of plans had once again exerted itself, not when things were going wrong. "GET OUT OF THERE!" she screamed, feeling her own corona starting to surge. "JUST GET --"

But Joyous had responded to the impact of the bolt by doing something natural. She'd reared back. A motion which had sent the saddlebags crashing to the ground. And the glow of life moved in the fog, searching for where the harvest had landed, refusing to leave without it --

-- the minotaur, charging towards the glow, never saw her. The fast-moving legs rammed into her flank. He tripped: she fell over. Her cry was by far the louder.

And that was when the other fresh sentries began to orient on the scene, drawing their own weapons, joined by those who'd been afraid to go inside --

There were too many weapons. Every bolt was a chance to not just pierce a suit, but a heart. Luna's head came up, her eyes looking everywhere as her field fought against the suit, energy searching for any way out, and she had one of their weapons, she pulled and got it away from its bearer, but she felt so weak, most of her strength was blocked and her field's dexterity was down to just about nothing, she could only affect a single target at a time, she could feel Celestia straining and see the eruptions of sparks every time either of them tried anything, the suits were keeping them from defending themselves, from defending everypony and --

-- there's one way out of this.

One.

I haven't...

Tia.

Forgive me.

And in the midst of the chaos, Luna found a moment for looking inside herself.

Went down.

Celestia couldn't focus. The suit, the Tartarus-chained Hoovmat suit was stopping her from doing just about everything she needed to do. She could take them down one at a time, but she knew the sounds of the fight would have alerted those inside the buildings and it wasn't going to be long before one at a time wouldn't be anywhere near enough. As opposed to right now, when it was just about right for getting them killed.

Them -- and soon after them, everything else.

The dark thought crossed her mind: to simply stand all the way up, identify herself, scream for the attack to stop, because no sane party would want to risk potentially ending the world. She had tried it a few times over the course of her life, and none of them had been in the presence of a sane party.

Luna was fighting, but with the same difficulties and a strange lack of seeming focus in the efforts: her sister was severely out of practice. Joyous, on the ground, struggling to recover and the minotaur was nearly up, close enough to see the pony in the fog, lost in the mists he could not breathe.

He laughed. His hands went to the grip of his blade.

"One down," he declared --

-- impact.

Vanilla Bear was rather thin for a unicorn, and his was the species which possessed the least base strength of the three pony races. He couldn't gallop all that quickly and didn't possess the mass to increase the impact of his charge. But in a crisis, in the moments when instinct took over, just about everypony might lower their head, put everything they had into going forward.

The minotaur was stronger, perhaps by orders of magnitude. But he'd just gotten up, he was completely focused on Joyous, and the diagnostician had just charged into his right thigh, horn-first. A horn blunted by the covering of the suit -- but still an unbreakable horn, one which refused to transmit force to its owner's skull and allowed the entirety of the impact to be delivered on a single point.

The minotaur screamed, staggered back. Vanilla, with no experience of how to recover from a charge, fell to the side. Celestia sent a crossbow spinning off onto the fog, vaguely aware of new hooves pounding past her, she could hear distant muffled shouts from the buildings, there would be reinforcements at any moment --

-- the big bull didn't go down. Staggering him was all Vanilla's valiant effort had been able to do. And now those hands were on the grip of the blade again.

"You're both going on the compost heap! You're just getting there first --"

-- green pressed against the suit's throat. Sparkling, glowing green.

He stopped. He looked down at the glowing field, the thinness of the edge. And then he finally saw the unicorn, whose horn was ablaze with the light of a full single corona.

"Tell them," Chocolate said, voice no longer muffled by filters, "to drop their weapons. Now."

It made him a target. Celestia took care of the first minotaur targeting him. But the doors --

"-- and what's this supposed to be?" the bull sneered. "If you could do anything, little pony, you would have --"

"-- it's my trick." Chocolate's voice was shaky. Terrified, the fear fully out in the open. And yet he stood his ground, horn still lit. "I knew I wanted to be a surgeon before my mark ever appeared. And when my magic came... it turned out I didn't need a scalpel. Don't move. Don't even lean forward. It's sharp."

The bull stared at him.

"HOLD UP!" he shouted, or at least as much as he could without expanding his throat too much. The other minotaurs stopped moving.

"Surgeon," the bull softly said. "Doctors don't kill."

"I've killed nine ponies," Chocolate Bear said, and the words were almost placid. "Any doctor my age has a count, because surgery goes wrong, because we looked in the wrong place, because we make mistakes. We mourn. We hate ourselves. We move on, or pretend we do. But my partner jokes that I only learn by cutting. You're a minotaur, and I've never treated a minotaur. But you're also a mammal. I know where every major artery is in your body. I know where to cut you. My field is up against your left carotid. One more thought and I can use a femoral for backup. Between the two, you'll bleed out within heartbeats. Trust me: if it's you or him, I already chose him."

Celestia could hear them now. Hooves pounding against wooden floors. Getting closer.

And then the bull said what they all already knew.

"YOU'RE DEAD!" the minotaur laughed. "Do you know where you're standing? Do you know what you're breathing, pony? I see your suit! I see the headpiece, on the ground! You're a corpse, and you just haven't stopped moving --"

A second burst of glow pressed against the bull's inner right thigh. The words stopped.

"I told you," Chocolate informed the world as he steadily stood among the blooms. "I already chose him. Vanilla?"

From the ground, a shaky "...what's up, Chocolate Bear?"

"You heard him. It's the pollen."

"...got it." Desperately, "Chocolate --"

-- which was when the doors opened, releasing two dozen bellowing weapons-bearing minotaurs into the fight --

-- at the exact moment it ended.

Dark blue shot into the newest of nights, surrounded everything. Weapons were pulled away from bodies, crushed into splinters, twisted into sculptures destined to be rejected for not quite demonstrating the true transient state of matter. Minotaur forms were hoisted into the air, but only long enough for them to realize what was coming, just before they were flung into towers, buildings, and anything else that was available. The slamming repeated a few times, just for emphasis, and then the reinforcements were collected into a smaller area. One which had a shield dropped on it.

"We," Luna declared, "are done." Or at least, the words had come from Luna's mouth. The words which just barely sounded like her sister at all.

Celestia, who no longer had anything to fight off, was able to turn, stare at her sister and the corona dancing around the younger's covered horn. The dark blue, star-filled corona -- which now bore just the faintest hint of reddish-purple.

"You're at the limits of your weaponry," Luna said. "And your raiders, barring the three I'm sensing who turned back at the door when they saw what happened to the others. I, however? Am not at the limits of my magic. Would you like to see where the limits are? Or would you prefer to surrender? Believe me, given a choice, I hardly mind getting the chance to show off..."

The head bull looked at her, then to Celestia. Seeing size by corona's light.

"...you two?" he asked the night. "What are you two --" And then, looking to Chocolate as the moderately saner choice, "You're still dead."

"I know," the surgeon said. "Would you like to join me?"

A third field blade appeared, right over the bull's covered nostrils.

"This," Chocolate observed, "would be a really good time to mention the cure."

Long seconds passed. All of them hurt.

"There isn't one," the bull sneered. And in his only remaining triumph, Celestia heard truth.

Which was when Vanilla got back on his hooves. "Wrong," the smaller stallion declared. "There isn't one yet."

Joyous was the last to recover and, as the only pony who could risk flight, she was the one sent to alert the Guards, let them know what the sisters and physicians were bringing out via the road. Vanilla looked her over before permitting the flight, diagnosing a badly-bruised right flank -- but the impact had inflicted no injury upon the wing.

She was capable of flight. But it was several minutes before they could make her leave, talk her into doing anything other than apologizing to Chocolate over and over again, voice breaking with every word, heart already broken. More time was required to extract a promise that she would come back, that she wouldn't do anything to punish herself over what had happened, because whether she wished to believe it or not -- even when she wasn't capable of believing it -- none of it had been her fault.

Eventually, it was Chocolate who got her to leave, and he did so with the same words he had given to Luna and Celestia and his partner, with that last needing more repetition than anypony. She took off, and her tears substituted for the rain.

The others began the trot out. Luna's field kept the minotaurs in line, although it didn't do much to stop the swearing.

"Nice working," Vanilla said. The words were bitter. "It would have been nicer if you'd done that a few seconds earlier."

"I already told you both: it... took time," Luna said, and that was not a lie. "Time to figure out a way through the suit." And that was. "I am sorry. I... know that being sorry is not enough. That words are not enough. Actions, however..."

She glanced back at Chocolate, trailing at the rear of the pack, five body lengths behind the others.

"Everything we have done to save Joyous," she told Vanilla, returning her focus to him, "for her parents -- we now do for him. You know that, Doctor Bear. Somewhere inside, you know it. I can only ask that you try to remember."

He sighed, and there was too much in it.

"I know, Princess. Just... give me some time. Please?"

Luna silently nodded, trotted forward.

"Sister?"

No response.

"Tia?"

Heavy hooffalls against the road.

"Tia, please --"

"-- you called on him." Without looking at her.

"...yes."

"On him." Looking everywhere that wasn't her.

There seemed to be nothing she could say to that.

"How many years has it been?" Celestia quietly asked. "How many years when we didn't even think about it, never seriously, when we swore we wouldn't -- and you... you just..."

Trotting under Moon. A Moon which was starting to feel like the last place she could go. The place from which nopony would ever pull her back.

"Don't talk to me," the elder told her, and moved away.

Luna didn't accelerate to match. Instead, she kept her pace, alone under Moon and leaf-dappled shadows, until the last of the tears had been fought back. And then she dropped her speed, allowing Vanilla to silently pass her, waiting until Chocolate had reached her.

"I am --"

The last word would have been 'sorry,' and she felt it would have done as much good as the word ever did: none at all. But Chocolate spoke before it could emerge, and the words were the same ones he previously had said to Vanilla, the sisters, and Joyous.

"It was my decision."

She felt her wing shifting, felt the urge to drape it over his back. Pull him in close, comfort him. But the suit prevented it.

And so they silently trotted into the dark.

Genophobia

There were things they had planned for, and things they had not.

The cleansing: that had been part of what they had seen as the conclusion all along. When Joyous reached the evacuation point, she landed well away from the Guards, in a designated spot where the wind swirled around her, keeping everything locked inside. There was water waiting there, and cleansers of all kinds, including a hastily-purchased bottle of Dr. Groomer's Supermild Eighteen-In-One Foal-Castille Soap. The same treatment was to be applied to the exterior of her enchanted saddlebags: the workings which had been placed upon them would keep their contents dry, safe, and contained, but the outer surface had to be made safe. Nopony was to approach her until she had scrubbed down on a surgical level, until anything which could infect others had been removed, for the threat was now something more than what her unshielded presence created every day.

But her words could still escape from confinement, even if they had to be shouted through the swirling air. And that led to the things none had prepared for.

The sisters had realized that they would need cleaning, at least in burning off anything which might be coating the suits. Neither had initially figured for needing to apply the same treatment to two dozen minotaurs. But Joyous had sounded the alert, and the Guards were ready when they all emerged from the hidden road. Multiple fields took over for Luna's efforts, well before anypony could spot or wonder at the odd tint dancing around her covered horn. All ignored the attempts to claim pain at burning which did not exist as Celestia silently created the finest coatings of ash on biped and quadruped suits, all contaminants rendered into something which could produce no more than the briefest coughing fit, and a swift breeze removed even that possibility.

None had considered the implications of having the minotaurs in their custody. Of having to continue confining them all the way to the nearest settlement, trotting down the main street of a community which had been honored to have the Princesses visit, kept the celebration going into the night, and thus was in a perfect position to see a full rainbow of glows forcing ochre-covered bulls towards the police station. There had been no advance discussion of what kind of story they would present to explain why the ponies had raided the drug growers, why they had protective suits of their own, and the sisters had... not talked to each other during the trot to the town. The lie presented had to come from the Guards, and it came in the form of a promise to explain things later, something nopony was sure could be done at all.

More hours were spent awake under Moon, and all of them were caused by that station. The captured minotaurs had to be stripped down, and officers were found who would fit their suits. Those willing to believe in the protection were escorted past the outer defenses. Ponies and minotaurs took the camp apart deep into the night, all the way back to Sun. Notebooks were brought out, crude specimens which held not a tenth-bit of caring about anything recorded. Samples, substances they knew and ones which were still being tested, for that horrific value of "test" which the leader had seen as the only one worth bothering with.

They were careful, when they went among the flowers. More samples were gathered and isolated, some by the minotaurs, others by ponies -- or rather, by a single unicorn. For Chocolate accompanied the return team and brought back more blooms than anyone, keeping them with their native soil, arranging them in his saddlebags within pots so that they would continue to grow naturally. It would, he said, help with the tests, to have fully living specimens. And he did the gathering unsuited, as ponies and minotaurs stared at him in horror and sorrow.

There had been so much planning, and none of it had accounted for Chocolate.

He moved quietly, especially for such a large unicorn. There were times when it almost became impossible to hear him. Others when virtually no one truly wanted to see him, because it was so hard to peer through the curtain of pain. The minotaurs knew what the flowers did to their own, believed him to be the first pony case, and... it was hard for them to believe they were not simply looking at a corpse, one who had yet to stop moving. But they cared, so many of them. They cared about the fate of a complete stranger, somepony they'd never known, somepony they would never have the chance to know. For there had been lies told, or at least postponed -- but none of them had been about what had caused the exposure. The sisters would not allow lies to spread about sacrifice. Not this time.

The minotaurs respected that. Two softly asked if Chocolate would do them the honor of dropping by their homes of their Ancients, when the time came. One Guard quietly told the surgeon that the armor he'd been loaned for the parade was his to keep, and then galloped away before the tears could truly begin to flow. Vanilla had times when he could not approach his friend, others where the two had to be physically separated. The ridiculous mane never tilted up and to the right, or left, or anywhere else, for all the surgeon would let himself see was the here and now.

The second trip back from the drug farm was a mourner's procession.

Upon reaching what had been the evacuation point for the second time, Chocolate washed himself again, this time using supplies provided by the police. He did so expertly, with a surgeon's precision, and would not allow any to approach him until he was sure it was safe. Even then, he tended to keep himself somewhat removed from the others and, when they reached their newest inn, requested a single room for the first time since reaching Mazein at all. His partner silently watched that request for solitude and, as soon as the room had actually been entered, broke it. The sisters were nearby, the walls could have been thicker, and so both heard the stallions talking long into the day, well after both should have collapsed from exhaustion. But they were doctors, and the experiences of their internships had left them used to long shifts, dredging up energy for now which would have to be paid for later. And at the moment, neither was all that concerned about later, for it seemed as if now was all they had.

They talked, diagnostician and surgeon, and very little of it might have been about the cure. The siblings tried not to listen as they sat in their own neighboring bedrooms, and so both found their hearing turning inwards, listening to words from the past, ones neither had ever wanted to hear again. A rotating shift of Guards moved outside Joyous' room and waited for spent weeping to turn into slow breathing, desperately hoping that breathing would continue.

Eventually, they all slept.

And then the nightmares began.

It had taken a full day to pretend they'd recovered.

Celestia had sent word ahead to the rest of the tour stops, letting them know that the group had been detained. There had been time for that, and it was the same time in which she knew news had been sent speeding towards Polis. So far, the local police had been too distracted by their own end of the cleanup to do much in the way of normal inquiries. She suspected Referee Moonsault would be a little more careful about making time, and so when she went to see what the Doctors Bear had been up to, a small, distracted part of her was still trying to work out exactly what could be said. It was something which had to be thought about. It was -- something else to think about.

Both physicians were looking through notebooks, and none of the writing in those texts was their own. Two horns were ignited on the partial corona level and every so often, mutually horrible fieldwriting recorded a few details.

Celestia looked at the spread of papers across the twin beds, then examined the notebooks a little more closely. "Those are from the dealers?"

Chocolate distractedly nodded. "The police already took pictures of all the pages. They said they didn't have any problems with letting us have them for a while as long as we gave them back before we left." A green flicker shifted to the next heartless chapter.

Vanilla didn't look at his partner. And then he did. "They -- don't mind giving us just about anything right now."

Celestia made an effort, forced herself to casually trot closer. "What have you found?"

"That they didn't care," Chocolate quietly said. "About anything."

"Except their own survival," Vanilla sighed. "His own, anyway. Those sentry towers weren't for holding off the police, Princess, not as first intent. They were there because the group we raided was watching out for other dealers."

The next mustering of her resolve left her sitting between the beds. "Why?"

"Because they didn't care," Chocolate told her. He took three breaths, all slow. "And it was bad business. Princess, most minotaur drugs -- the illegal ones -- aren't anything close to fatal. It's possible to get into a situation where they'll kill you: someone on sienna root might just charge what they're seeing as the screen and go off a cliff. And the addictions don't do anyone any favors. But the substances themselves... they may wear on the users, they'll make it easier to die, but in and of themselves, they're not fatal. Not on one normal dose."

"You thought they might be new at this," Vanilla continued. "You're right. They were. Long-time dealers learn to worry about repeat business. This bull, the one in charge -- he believed there weren't enough drugs out there. He wanted to tap new markets, and his idea of a market was that he would get someone's money, and if that someone died, then there was someone else out there, every time, who would fall for it, and..." The brown eyes briefly closed. "He used what he thought was a scientific method. They were looking for natural drugs. So they'd go out into the wild zones and harvest plants. Anything they hadn't seen before. The minotaurs who did that were called the test squad. When one of them found something -- anything -- they would be isolated with it. Breathe it. Stew it for tea. Just outright eat it. Everything possible, until they ran out of options, found an effect, or --" a deep breath " -- died. And as soon as they found an effect they could sell, that's where the testing ended."

It took nearly all of what she'd recovered over the last day to get the words out. "How many?"

"Died?" Chocolate looked directly at her. "If those little cross-outs mean what we think they do? About a dozen. And that's just for the notebooks we've been through so far. You can't just go eating everything, especially if you're doing it in bulk to see if any possible effects come in at what you're guessing is a higher dosage. Trace toxins build up. Things are still in the body when the next test starts, and if you're still weak... Princess, there was one way off the test squad, and the police are going to be pulling the bodies out of the compost heap today."

"They went for the desperate when they hired testers," Vanilla softly said. "Anyone who just needed money that badly. And the pay was great. You just couldn't leave to spend any of it. And once they died... he took the money out of their little cell, and offered it to the newest member of the test squad. I know this bull now, Princess: I know him through his writing. Everyone was either a sucker or a test subject. He didn't care. He just wanted the money, and anyone who died because of him deserved to, because why should a sucker get to live? Harshest with his own, and if they tried to leave..."

"There are other dealers in Mazein," Chocolate finished. "I won't pretend they care about their customers. But they do care about not drawing attention. About remaining a background problem. And this bull, who only cared about the money, was putting dying minotaurs into the hospitals. He was making everyone think about drugs, look for them more than ever. Some of them decided they had to find the new operation and shut it down. Fatally, as a lesson to anyone else who might think about caring so little. A couple of moons ago, this group lost one of their sellers to the competition's efforts, and that's when what they saw as security measures really stepped up. All those traps -- they were meant to be used against other minotaurs. They were still working on anti-pony defenses, especially when they didn't have any ponies. If we'd gotten there a few weeks later, there probably would have been some magic in place -- and that would have meant more cases, assuming he didn't just get rid of them..."

Sunlight came in through the room's primary window, and most of the beam fell between the beds. The light and heat were there. It just was hard to feel any of it.

Celestia found the strength for the next sentences. Somewhere. "Find one effect. Sell it if they could. And move on. Nothing about cures."

In chorus, "Cures are too much work." Chocolate took over from there. "There's always another sucker, and why would anyone voluntarily come down from their high?"

"But -- just testing on minotaurs?"

"Ponies are a fairly small minority in Mazein," Vanilla passively said. "Not much of a market, when you're trying to get established. He probably wasn't planning on pony testing for a while."

"So he was guessing," Celestia went on, trying to keep the desperation of her words. "When he said it would --" and couldn't finish.

"In a way," Chocolate calmly replied. "When he said it, that was as much as he knew, and he believed it, because it had been true for everyone else. But that's still how we have to treat it, Princess. As if it could be fatal. And even if it never goes that far... you and Princess Luna talked about this with us, just before she -- showed us the chart. My talent is active. My body may not die. My mind will. I could become the world's greatest surgeon. Or I could start pulling ponies off the street and doing exploratory procedures, looking for something I could treat."

The words had been even. Controlled. Rational. And Celestia wondered how much that had taken.

"How are you feeling?" As four-word sentences went, it struck her as being a completely useless specimen.

"Nothing yet," Chocolate quietly answered. "We've had reasons to believe the progression is slower with ponies, Princess. We were only able to pin down Mazein because the Releases were here so long. We have a date for when they were among the flowers -- at least, for when Joyous was with them -- and it was two moons after that before any real signs of neglect started to register in her memory. Of course, that's with pegasi and her searching through her foalhood, but... nothing yet. And with Joyous -- we're not seeing any real intensification so far. It's possible that whatever this sets off can only be triggered once. But we don't know yet, and it's something we'll have to keep watching for."

"We need some more time with the notebooks," Vanilla added. "The police will want them back soon. And after that -- now that we have the flowers, Princess, I think Chocolate and I need to go back to Equestria. We need our own facilities and equipment. There are pony doctors in the local hospitals, which means they have some of what we need -- but right now, I want to keep things --" and she watched him gather his own strength "-- confined. We talked about this with Princess Luna, when she was in earlier. She's agreed to teleport us back after we clear the edge of town."

Which meant they'd seen more of her than Celestia had. The younger might not have been avoiding the elder -- but Celestia's own ongoing efforts made that question rather moot. "I understand. We'll check on you --" although that wasn't going to be together, because it was best to space out the trips and right now, going with her meant going with her "-- as much as we're able to, until the tour ends -- but that's no more than twice a day." They both nodded.

Her next words had been said before. They had been said several times since they had all come back from the dealers' farm. The repetition would never bring them to the point where they wouldn't hurt. "Is there anything I can do --"

-- and Chocolate said "Can we talk in the hallway for a minute?"

Vanilla glanced at his partner. "What's up?"

"I just need to ask the Princess something."

"What?" Four letters carrying a lifetime of concern.

"Give me a minute, Vanilla. Please."

The smaller stallion slowly nodded. Celestia looked at Chocolate. Nodded, stood up, and waited for him.

He waited until the door was completely closed, then softly said "Watch him."

She didn't understand. "Doctor?"

"I know it's a lot to ask," Chocolate quietly went on. "But... we try crazy things, both of us. And if this reaches the point where I start to -- slip, or even before that... he might decide crazy is all that's left. Crazy is that flower, Princess, exposing himself in the hopes that a boosted talent will help him find a cure. He doesn't need it. I believe in him more than that, even when he doesn't believe in himself. Just -- keep an eye on him, when you can. When I can't."

"Doctor Bear --" she started -- and couldn't finish.

"You have duties," he softly added. "More than I want to think about, most of the time. You don't get to play around and just kid each other and do a little shizzling on the side. I know you don't have the hours to watch him full-time. Just -- when you can. Especially if I die. His parents are gone, his brother is... unreliable, and he never really found anypony. He found a long line of anyponies, he kept going back to one, and -- it never worked out. I'm all he has, and..."

He smiled, and the brilliant white teeth caught the light.

"...we're a little bit married..."

It cost her, and the price seemed to be nearly everything she had left. But Celestia smiled back.

"When I can," she vowed.

He nodded his thanks. "I forgot to ask Princess Luna earlier. When you see her...?"

The smile flickered out. "Yes." And she trotted away.

She wanted to find a library, or possibly a legal consultant. Celestia's knowledge of Mazein's laws generally centered on those which affected trade. The police had told her there might be some problems with the arrests, especially if the head bull's lawyer decided to become creative. Celestia needed to find out exactly what that could mean, and that meant venturing into the local settled zone, possibly back to the police station for a talk with their chief. Unless she found out what they were up against --

-- hoofsteps, coming into the hallway at the back end. Solid ones. More solid than those of nearly anypony else, thanks to that greater height and mass. Celestia kept moving.

"And so the answer to a question is gained," came the steady voice from behind her. "That is what the world's largest hypocrite looks like from the rear."

Luna was the only witness in the hallway, the only one who saw her sister spin around, moving far faster than nearly any other pony could have.

"How dare --" the elder began to declare, the words moving faster than her body, landing with what was possibly meant to be a strictly preliminary impact. She was moving fast, and her words faster still --

-- but neither was faster than Luna's reflexes. And so two words were all there were.

Luna watched, and briefly marveled at the harsh master that was instinct. Celestia's first logical move should have been to ignite her own horn. But instead, the right foreleg came up, and a hoof awkwardly rubbed at the dark blue field clamping the elder's mouth closed.

"Shut up," Luna said, and the words felt rather close to a growl. "Just shut up. I know it is hard for you, after so much time alone with few who would dare to interrupt, even when it was most necessary." She took a hoofstep forward, then another. Felt her head lower, her posture moving into that of the stalk. "But that is my role, is it not? I have to stop you. When you are being stubborn. Unreasonable. Stupid. That little bit of magic? I know you can counter that. Equal and opposite, so much of the time, but we are under Sun and you could undo my working with a modicum of effort. It might lead to a fight. We could hurt each other... oh, we are so good at hurting each other, there are times when I believe we were designed for it. So that each might stop the other, were it truly necessary. At the moment? It is not. It is simply necessary for you to shut. up."

Her head had gone down, as part of the stalk. She would have to look up in order to meet the elder's eyes. She was sick of looking up, and so a secondary effort seized white legs, bent them at the joints and brought her sibling crashing to the floor.

"You hypocrite," Luna hissed, feeling the heat of Sun against her left flank as she stalked down the isolated hallway. "How many things did you try, in order to save him at the last?" And now the white horn had ignited, she could feel the intensity of that field pushing against her own, hotter and hotter as the powerful muscles added their own strain...

There were words they did not say to each other. Not since the Return, not in the time leading up to abeyance. With just a few syllables in the right place, wounds which had only pretended to heal could be set to gushing agony. Each had a wealth of such words for the other, gathered over more time than either cared to think about, and neither would ever say them. Because they were words that could not be taken back. To say them was to inflame the wounds, deliberately inflict the deepest of agonies, and for forgiveness to occur after... unlikely at best and at the true worst, a hope so faint that it was best left to something approaching prayer.

Luna took what might have been the last breath she would ever have while a sibling loved her, and let some of them fly.

"What kind of abomination did you work at the very end, in the belief that it would give him a chance to yet be saved? Is there a rule you did not break, hypocrite? A barrier you failed to shatter in not merely calling on him, but attempting to call him back?"

The white horn dimmed. Purple eyes closed. All struggles stopped.

"You remember the horror," Luna shot at the elder, watching the words beat against the huge body. "As do I. The eyes, oh yes, I remember the eyes, yellow lost forever, the red of blood, the blood of all those whose strength he ultimately took for his own. You remember jealousy leading to something very close to insanity, the anger over it not having been him, that we were chosen when it should have been him, is that not what he believed in the end, when he was still there to believe anything at all? That it should have been him granted power, and never understanding that his desire for it was the reason it was never given. And perhaps there was something left of him at the last, under the false blood, when you went to him on his deathbed and worked that abomination. Something which heard you and recognized the birth of a new kind of horror, in the name of trying to save him -- or were you attempting to punish? That one failure would become many, over and over again, when the renewed price being paid was no longer truly his? What went to him in the dungeon, in the last moments of his lost life, when he was buried within his own body? A companion? Or a monster?"

The white body sagged against the floor, mass dragged down by something stronger than gravity, along with being more constant and cruel.

"You remember the horror," Luna repeated. "But is that all you remember now, after a thousand years with nopony there to remind you of the rest? You think of him, and you think of anger and jealousy and red eyes and that spell and the Tarturus-damned Amulet. You remember what he became. But I was lost among mirrors, endless mirrors, internal burial, and perhaps it gave me the capacity to appreciate one who might have gone through the same."

She had to fight herself for the next words. To keep her body moving forward, her legs straight, her mane and tail filled with stars. To let the true pain only come later, when it would have so much company.

"For he reached for what he could never be -- and I wished to become what I had once been -- and in the end, in spite of our differing goals, we found the same result. Each of us... lost ourselves. He for a lifetime, and then, with your abomination... and I was among mirrors, with nothing to look at but the events which had led me to that fate. All of them, sister. And it was pain, it never could have been anything else -- but some of it was a different kind of agony, one you know rather well. The pain of looking upon what you can never have again, the places you will never visit, the pony you can no longer be. The pony who was. The ponies. I looked into mirrors... and I saw the pony who came with us, when there was nowhere else to go. The one who found it in himself to approach us, after a time, as something more than reluctant traveler. Do you recall his words? He said... we had a strange alchemy, all of us together, something which made us more than the individual elements should have created. It was -- an interesting experiment, to mix so many different personalities. He wanted to be part of it..."

She had made the elder cry, and that was the least of it.

"But we buried those memories, did we not?" Luna pushed on, forcing herself to move closer. "We buried him. We remembered only what he became, and so we did not wish to remember at all. But I had time to... reflect. And if we had not buried the best of him along with the worst, we would never have had to worry about forcing our workings through the suits. We would have been fully capable well before reaching the flowers. Chocolate Bear would be working on an attempt to save Joyous and the affected minotaurs, with no thoughts towards his own healthy body. You refused to bring back the best of him, and I, even with so much time spent in reflection, hesitated... How long is our list of victims, created in the name of maintaining a false purity? Add up all the ponies who died because we would not call, and then possibly include one more into the total. Dozens, surely. Hundreds? We buried him, and then we gave him company..."

The white body had been shaking for some time. The elder's head was trying to tuck itself out of sight, and not under the wing, for instinct was cruel.

"I called on him," Luna said, crossing the last few hoofsteps, "as he once was. I called on the pony who existed in the moment it became possible to call on him at all, the one whose unchanging shadow has crossed every second with us. It took me more time than it should have to find him within myself, after so much denial. But that shadow was there in the end, waiting for me, as he waits for you to remember him. I called on my friend. And he did what he always did, what he would do for you in an instant. He grumbled, and perhaps he rolled his eyes a bit, yellow eyes, and then he saved us, because the pony who existed in the moment it happened loved us, myself as his friend, finally and truly his friend, and..."

She stopped. There were more words. After so many centuries, there would always be more words. But the damage had already been done.

Luna stood over the fallen, shaking, weeping body. The pony every part of her wanted to drop down besides, lie against, comfort. Make the pain which had never truly faded go away, even when it could not.

"Hypocrite," she said, turned tail on the elder, and trotted out of the inn.

The inn's gardens were rather basic. There wasn't all that much landscaping involved, and certainly no one had thought to place benches suitable for accommodating alicorns. In the end, it was just some trees, a few edge-trimmed bushes, and flowers, none of which put the viewer in mind of seafoam. It was quiet, small, and rather exposed to Sun.

Sun illuminated the dark body huddled in the center of those gardens. The one which, judging by the little whimpers, the beams almost seemed to be beating down upon.

The dark body did not move as the hoofsteps approached. Eyes remained squeezed shut, head turned away from the intruder. All the better to continue gazing into the most hated of mirrors.

Two ponies in that garden. One standing, one huddled.

"Forty."

No response.

"I've been counting. Just for the few first decades. I'm already up to forty."

The dark body curled a little tighter.

"Luna... please look at me..."

No movement.

And then the head came up. Dark eyes opened, blinked tears away.

"...I," the younger just barely got out, "...somepony... somepony had to say... and I know what it did, I... I will understand if you wish me to --"

The elder sank down. A white wing stretched out, offered protective shadow as it pulled the smaller in close, felt the vibrations from the shaking body moving through feathers and fur.

"We hardly ever say his name, do we?" the elder quietly noted. "Unless it's something like... what happened after the eclipse, we talk around him most of the time. Hardly ever about him. Even in the middle of all that, you wouldn't say his name..."

The younger nodded, and the tightly-pressed horn left a trail of disrupted short white strands.

"Do you remember now?" the smaller asked. "Will you let yourself remember?"

The hesitation was not a short one.

"...will you say it with me?"

This pause was much briefer. "Why?"

"You already called on him. I --" and this time, it truly took everything she had "-- tried to call him back. Maybe we should just try talking."

It got a tiny snort. "Very well. On your count, then..."

They looked to each other. Then to Sun and Moon, for whatever strength might be found there, and finally to the past. Where the pain was. Where the strength to live with that pain had been born.

"Star Swirl," the sisters told trees and leaves, bushes and flowers, none of which could notice. And nothing rustled or moved, not from more than an ordinary breeze. There were no sparks, no surge of feel from the sudden arrival of magic. Nothing was called back except memory.

Sometimes that was enough.

Climax

The occupants of the carriage weren't really watching the scenery, and it was a pity. There were species, both plant and animal, which would only be found outside Mazein if somepony ventured into the most comprehensive of botanical gardens and zoos. A simple glance out the window, even in the diminishing light of fast-approaching sunset, would have found blooms of all kinds, living colors in combinations hardly ever seen by Equestrian eyes, and -- that was just one of the reasons the elder wasn't gazing across the landscape. Celestia had seen enough of flowers for a while. But the younger had a different reason for not sightseeing, and it was a much more demanding one.

Celestia sighed to herself, took another glance at the internal clock, and then looked across the space to where her sleeping sister was curled up on the oversized cushions.

She should have woken up by now.

It wasn't illness: nothing conventional, and certainly not red-tinge. It was simple exhaustion. Many things had been disrupted by the problem, and Luna's hours had been among the most constant. No matter what some of the stupidest rumors might continue to insist, it did not harm her sister to be under Sun, any more than it hurt Celestia to be awake beneath Moon. But too much time spent within the gaze of the wrong celestial body... that served as an increasing irritant. Eventually, they had to return to their natural hours, just to keep themselves from becoming explosives in search of a place to go off.

Attempting to help Joyous over the last few weeks had forced Luna to spend more short-stretch time awake under Sun than she'd put in since the last war which had been fought prior to abeyance and there, the situation had given the younger something to take it out on. But during their mutual quest to solve the problem -- Luna would not snap at Joyous, and she had generally done her best to be patient with the doctors right up until sampling got involved. The tour was, in some ways, a diplomatic mission, and so Luna had held her tongue there as well. But all of it required daylight hours, what was starting to feel like an endless stream of them, with that irritation increasing all the while, and...

In some ways, a fight had been inevitable. A few more cycles of disruption might have seen it start from Celestia's end: she might have been greeting Moon with somewhat less frequency, but the difference wasn't all that great. At least it had broken out in a way that had brought some degree of what might eventually turn into benefit. But for now... not quite. Celestia was willing to try and remember -- but most of her efforts, conducted in the quiet hours while her exhausted sibling slept, had only brought back her to those red eyes.

Another check of the clock. Was Luna this tired? It wasn't as if the weariness was entirely physical. They'd both just been through a major emotional struggle, and that took its price by draining anything that might have once had strength to offer. The ongoing, steadily increasing worries about the problem extracted a toll from their mental reserves. And then there had been the police station. They'd gone to the police station before leaving the last minotaur settled zone, and the officers, in conjunction and chorus with the future prosecutor, had told them exactly what they'd done.

There would be criminal charges. But the dealer's lawyer was challenging a huge number of those indictments, because of the way things had happened. The dealer had spent very little time in his cell: most of it was used in consulting with the attorney. And while the police were forbidden from listening in on such things, they wondered if the hours were leading the two towards a path out...

And all the while, the news was still making its way back towards Polis. Towards the door of the Referee's office, or possibly the temporary curtain.

It was a lot to think about. Every last tenth-bit of it collected a share of drain. And then when you added that to the worries about whether Joyous' condition might still accelerate...

Joyous was in a separate carriage, once again wearing her suit. There would be two Guards with her at the minimum, for that had been the order: at least two ponies with her at all times, and Celestia was starting to worry about the dangers in allowing the pegasus the privacy of a bedroom at night. No matter what anypony said, no matter who that pony was, she still seemed to have taken all of the blame for Chocolate's exposure onto herself. To look through the clear front panel of the suit was often to catch moisture coating the eyes, and no number of glances taken since the raid had ever found the smallest shred of hope.

Suicide had been a final option for Joyous from the start. She'd said as much. Even with the cause of the problem found, with the Doctors Bear at work on the source... Chocolate's potential fate had cost her, and so there were always at least two Guards with her at all times. But even that felt futile, for if a pony truly decided it was time for their death, only complete immobilization combined with neutralization of their magic could stop them. Unicorns had been known to silently bring their coronas to the full triple, then swing their horns into the nearest wall: the backlash did the rest. Earth ponies asked one last question, and received what would be their final answer.

Pegasi... went up. Locked their wings against their sides. Came back down.

So there was that now. There had always been that, really: it just seemed closer than ever. And then there were the doctors, freshly returned to Equestria just a few hours ago, the last thing Luna had done before collapsing into sleep. Chocolate, who was outwardly dealing with his infection in a way Celestia never would have expected in the acceptance of it -- but as Vanilla had said, one of the things about being a doctor was that you got exposed to a lot of horse apples. So in a way, Chocolate had been ready for it, recognizing the possibility that any disease might claim him from the day his mark first appeared. It wasn't facing the unknown: it was dealing with a fate that had been offered at the moment of manifest. He would fight it. They both would. But if there was no cure, Chocolate was ready.

Vanilla, however... they were a little bit married, and marriage required love. Diagnostician and surgeon were brothers on their worst days, something more during the best. Each was the only partner the other had, and Vanilla, while he might have been just as accepting of his own possible death... was a pony who tried crazy things. Chocolate knew it, and that the flower was a form of insanity which Discord might have admired, because what resulted from it could best be described as heart-rending, family-destroying, life-ending chaos.

'Watch him.' She could try. But as with suicide, should the white stallion decide to commit to the course, there was very little which could be done.

She looked at Luna, noticed the twitching, the little shifts of hooves and tail to go with the movement behind the eyelids. Lost in the one nightscape she could never hope to control. Perhaps even trapped in a much lesser category of nightmare. It might even be something on a level well beneath the one they were currently living through --

-- but the movements slowed, stopped. Breathing steadied. And at five minutes before Sun-lowering, Luna opened her eyes.

"How are you feeling?" Celestia quietly asked.

"Somewhat restored," Luna replied, stretching out as best she could within the confines of the carriage. "In some ways. How much time until we stop for the night?"

"Just about as soon as you bring Moon up," Celestia decided. "We're not going to reach the next settled zone tonight." The police station had a way of siphoning hours. "I'd rather camp here than push on with everypony tired. I'll give the orders to pull over in a few minutes, and then I'll start on defenses."

Luna nodded as she spread and arced her wings, trying to loosen those muscles. The carriage walls presented a counterargument. "Very well. And since I am relatively fresh, and the doctors have had a few hours to ignore all chances for refreshing themselves as well, I believe I will go and see how they have chosen to begin their investigations. Given the circumstances --" her eyes briefly closed "-- I am guessing they did not decide to simply collapse into their own beds for a time. They will likely work through the night. And the day. And until we find one or both in an alley, desperately attempting to acquire a supply of Exam Crystal for repeated personal use."

It'll be Vanilla first. And that might be the least of the places where the stallion would go. "All right. Memorize our current location before you leave --"

"-- I am familiar with the procedure, sister." But there was a smile in it.

The carriage rolled on for a while. Sun was lowered. Moon was raised.

"What were you dreaming about?"

Luna sighed. "For the most part, the thing you are posting Guards in an effort to prevent. The base has been... recurring for some days now. But this one had changed somewhat. There were... three this time."

Celestia moved as best she could within the carriage, quietly nuzzled.

"I thought of going to Joyous," Luna said. "Simply to breathe in her scent, in the hopes of returning to those dreams. But... it was a foolish thought. I knew it for such as it was formally announcing itself. And yet, compared to being within my throne room in the nightscape yet again, stepping into the blood as it flowed across the marble..." Another, deeper sigh. "I did not speak to you of my Open Palace session, did I? Not of anything other than Joyous."

Celestia blinked at the change of subject. (Luna's close-tucked head wasn't in a position to see it.) "No."

"I resented you somewhat at the end," Luna told her. "For not mentioning the arbitrations."

That got a wince. "...oh. Right. Those. I just thought that if I told you about what usually trotted in, you would never --"

Rather pointedly, "-- and you would have been right."

"But there are good meetings," Celestia rushed on. "Three years ago, I had this one musician who was just working up the courage to play in public for the first time, he chose me as his initial audience because he thought if he could play with me there, he could do it for anypony, and his last album sold --"

"-- arbitrations," Luna cut her off. "I had arbitrations. Petty, pointless disputes which anypony could have solved for themselves if each had only cared to speak with the other, or risk the effort of thought. The last of the night was about leaves. Leaves falling on gourmet grass. I hardly could have asked for stupider and did not wish to risk doing so, for the world would have provided. Instead, I found myself upon my throne, with the session closed early because I could both bear no more and had just been reminded that coating one's sources of frustration in ice is not always the best course. Trying to recover from the presence of so much idiocy, and feeling that... I had not accomplished anything real."

The younger took a deep, slow breath.

"The world waits for such thoughts," Luna said. "And laughs. Joyous is certainly something real, is she not? All of this, all of what she has been through, what we have dealt since since meeting her, what others have been through for us... fully real in every way. Their lives, their dreams, their pain..."

She huddled closer, and Celestia let the carriage roll on for a while.

"We're not beaten," the elder said. "Not yet."

"No," Luna admitted. "But it was a reminder. Not just that some problems are truly crucial: that even those petty conflicts are real to those going through them, even if they arguably should be something less than the focus of their existence. That those involved in the little arguments, even though I may only know them for a mere seven minutes of their lives, are real. Every number in the census is a citizen, and every citizen is a pony -- or a minotaur, griffon, dragon, zebra, buffalo... there is a Diamond Dog I met a short time ago, her name is Yapper, she no longer feels as if she has a warren she can call home and... she formally entered Canterlot, two days before we left for Mazein. Our first Diamond Dog, Tia, in more than a thousand years, who wished to start on the path towards citizenship. She is real. Joyous, her parents, the doctors... eventually, even should all work out for the best, they will pass from our lives. But they had their own lives before meeting us, and I hope they have them beyond us, and... they are real. It is something every ruler should remember. Something far too many forget."

It took a while before Celestia managed to slow her blinking back to a normal rate.

"A Diamond Dog."

"Yes."

"We've got a Diamond Dog. As an immigrant. In Canterlot."

"Crossing Guard processed her paperwork. I translated her symbols for his benefit."

"You didn't tell me --"

Dryly, "-- we have been somewhat busy. And she was still settling in when we departed. Regretfully, I missed her first day of work."

"...where is she working?"

A plain statement. "The palace."

"...what?"

"She is rather adept at fresco repair. We have frescos. Which are in need of repair." Openly teasing, "Do you have any other questions?"

There was only one which could apply. "Do you do these things on purpose?"

"Do you purposely fail to mention arbitrations until two minutes prior to the start of my session? Stop the carriage, please: I wish to get off."

There was a time zone difference between Mazein and Equestria, enough that finding teleport-disrupted ponies awake under a Sun which would have been around for a while might have been a difficult proposition. But Luna correctly suspected Vanilla would be getting almost nothing in the way of sleep for some time, right up until the moment his body insisted -- which just might lead to a fine example of Exam Crystals, or at least as fine as the back alleys of Canterlot's oldest district could offer. The Tangle generally provided, although it took some courage to ask about what.

But it hadn't reached that stage just yet. For now, she simply trotted out of the recently-emptied room which the physicians had set aside for the sisters' arrivals, and followed the smell of wake-up juice.

Chocolate's field, no longer so thin at the edges, was carrying a cage, and the squeaks within told everypony how frustrated the occupants were about being confined away from the food. Vanilla's hues were once again coating the glass through which they had once watched a dying stallion. Both glanced back at the sound of hoofsteps.

"Princess." Vanilla forced a smile. "You're just in time for the first test, if you want to stick around for it. But we'll understand if you don't. This could..." He reluctantly looked at the cage. "...well, it may not be something anypony would want to watch."

"The first test is at this hour?" Luna inquired, coming forward. "Even for myself, that would be something of an interesting schedule. What delayed you?"

"We had to set things up," Chocolate said. "Safely." And nodded at the flowers.

Luna stared through the glass.

The floor of the room had been covered in soil, and the potted specimens had been replanted, at least as well as unicorns were generally capable of the act. The blooms rested quietly in their new home. Innocently. Completely free of awareness. And with that lack came a total absence of caring.

"It was tricky," Vanilla said. "We had to close off every single way air could get out of that room. Chocolate installed a double gateway going in, which we can control from levers out here. Like what the minotaurs had, including the ability to wash anything coming out. And after this test... we're going to wind up cleaning the whole thing out at some point, making it safe -- or just assigning a room we haven't used yet. Something we can cut a hole in the roof for, install a clear panel so Sun can get through. We'll need more flowers as the tests proceed, Princess, and we have to keep them alive. But just closing off the air vents... they're small and it'll take a long time, but eventually, they'll suffocate in their own oxygen. We need to get some properly-sized charcoal filters set up, but -- right now, this gives us enough for the first major test."

Trial and Error squeaked with the outrage of creatures who hadn't been fed. Deliberately.

"A live test," Chocolate quietly said. "You may not want to watch, Princess."

She looked at the grabbers. Then at the flowers. Back to the twitching purple noses.

"What is your intent, Doctors?" Neutral. Steady. After all, it wasn't as if she'd fed them. Or let them race across her. More than a few times.

"Joyous remembers them being among the flowers," Vanilla reminded her. "The Ambassador pointed out that their magic seems to be for consumption. We were watching them on the road, and we read some of what the local biologists had written. The theory is that they store energy. Something like hibernation, but to a degree we've never seen in Equestria before. They eat as much as they can just in case there's nothing to eat later. And their metabolism is incredibly efficient at breaking down everything they consume, so they don't excrete anywhere near the amount they should for what they're taking in."

"But we know it's the pollen now," Chocolate said. "Their stomach acids might be special, but they're not breaking things down before any effect can take place, because it's not caused by consumption. They breathe that pollen in, when they're among the flowers. We checked their nostrils and lungs with the best spells and magnifiers we had: we couldn't spot any filtration system, and even that would need some way of getting the stuff out of the body. I may have to do surgery later to check more closely --"

Luna watched him. There had been no special emphasis on 'surgery', nor had any glint appeared in brown eyes. Not yet.

"-- but for now... we're hoping they're immune," the surgeon continued. "And that the immunity is something we can study, find a way to pass on to ponies and minotaurs. I'm really hoping it's not something exclusive to omnivores. But we don't know. They just might be affected in a way we haven't seen before. And the only way to start finding out -- is to put them among the flowers and see what happens."

"We haven't fed them for a while," Vanilla quietly finished. "Two whole hours. They're ready."

Luna looked at the little grabbers again. The bright eyes. The gazes which didn't understand.

"I recognize," she said, "that the time may come when you need to dissect them, in the name of saving the lives of sapients. Please understand that when you reach that stage, I will not care to watch." They nodded. "Let them go in."

Chocolate quietly trotted out of sight, field carrying the trailing cage.

"We have extra flowers," Vanilla said. "We didn't use everything we have for this test: we've seen how they eat, and... well, we all saw how they eat. But we may wind up needing to grow the flowers deliberately, Princess. In Equestria. We can't rely on going back to the farm: you and Princess Celestia are the only ponies who could get us there, and shipping the blooms across so much distance, even with protective and preservative spells... one slip..." He swallowed. "But it leaves us growing them in Equestria, and..."

She could see it, nearly every last potential for disaster, and knew the first new nightmare would come from the possibility she had missed. "We will hope to avoid it. But if it is necessary, Doctor, we will do what we can."

"It just leaves us open to..." His eyes closed. "...it's bad enough already, Princess."

Hoofsteps, coming back.

"And," Vanilla quietly finished, "I know he's watching me." A tiny snort, which accidentally matched the timing of Luna's blink. "I'm not stupid, Princess. I know what I said during that meeting, and I know everypony remembers it."

"And your intent?" She hadn't meant for her words to be that soft.

"Chocolate," the stallion who was a little bit married said, "isn't the only one who gets to make decisions."

"It will hurt him." The only four words she had in the face of horror.

The statement was both steady and soft, which almost left it drowned out by his partner's approach. "No, it won't."

Quickly "You cannot --"

"-- I've decided not to use them," Vanilla said. "Because that will hurt him. And -- it's bad enough already."

There was just enough time for one last sentence. "Are you lying to me, Doctor?"

He opened his eyes, looked up at her, said nothing -- and Chocolate came back.

"They're in the..." The surgeon frowned. "It needs a name."

"The door system?" Vanilla quickly asked. "Yeah, it kind of does! The minotaurs didn't put anything in those notebooks! Typical: so busy looking for new drugs that they completely overlooked the one real innovation they created just to deal with the risks! You know, if that had been me..."

His head tilted up, and slightly to the right.

Chocolate sighed, rolled his eyes, and finished it off with a smile. They waited.

Forty seconds later, "...you're never going to let me use 'shizzle station,' are you?"

"Not if it means having to hear you say it," Chocolate grinned. "Got anything else?"

"Fine," Vanilla snorted. "Airlock. That's just boring enough for journal work. Doctor Bear, please open the airlock on the flower side and let T and E in."

The surgeon's horn ignited, and green surrounded a newly-installed lever in the wall.

"The flowers," Luna considered, trying not to look towards where the animals would be coming in just yet. "Have you granted those a name as well?"

"No," Chocolate immediately told her.

The directness surprised Luna. "Why? If nothing else, they require classification, and should warning notices be sent out, something will need to be written on them."

"Oh, I know they'll need naming eventually," Chocolate replied. "But right now? They don't deserve it." And his field pulled the lever down.

The inner door opened. Two twitching purple noses immediately scented the offered bounty.

Three ponies watched the curved backs as the little animals ventured forth. There seemed to be an odd hesitation in those movements, especially for creatures which could close in on a fallen crumb in well under ten seconds.

"They appear -- reluctant," Luna observed, wondering how much of the worry she'd kept out of her tones. "Joyous' memories suggest somewhat more enthusiasm. We certainly never saw this degree of trepidation when they were attempting to consume the leftovers from our own meals."

Vanilla winced. "We... may have made a mistake, Princess. They came from a pet store, and they were bred to be pets. We don't have wild grabbers. This is their first experience with the flowers. All they have are their instincts, and right now, their instincts are telling them they're somewhere new, with something they haven't seen before..."

"If it's just the wild ones who wound up with immunity in their blood, we can go back," Chocolate pointed out. "There's got to be live grabber traps for the minotaurs who just want them out of the garden. Give them time, Vanilla."

Trial and Error made their way across the dirt-covered floor, glancing at each other several times as they advanced. Squeaking. Error reared up on her hind legs, sniffed the air --

-- the little eyes widened. The squeaking became louder, more urgent. And the female grabber dropped, ran for the flowers, reared up again and began chewing on the seafoam petals.

Trial immediately decided that anything his companion was eating needed to be something he was eating. That advancement picked up its pace -- right up until they saw his nostrils flare, and then it became a dash.

They were both eating now. Quickly. As rapidly as Luna had ever seen them eat anything, and that was with creatures who had been able to make most of a road lunch's leavings vanish with the efficiency of a teleport.

And then they accelerated.

Luna swallowed, partially just to be the only one doing so at a normal rate.

"Doctors," she forced herself to say, "I have watched them make short work of everypony's refuse. They do not eat that fast."

"They're affected!" Vanilla's voice was starting to rise, tones escalating into the sounds of panic. "Joyous said they ate so quickly, it was funny -- they're being affected immediately, faster than anything we've seen, they're not immune --"

Half the blooms were gone now, and it seemed most of those had vanished in the time required for the sentence.

"But they didn't eat Mazein!" Chocolate desperately protested. "We're seeing what their amplification does! They would have --"

The grabbers stopped.

They turned away from the blooms, for only a few shreds of petals were left. They stared at each other, eyes wide and bright. Thin lips pulled back from sharp teeth.

"-- they are omnivores," Luna breathed, and it felt far too close to a scream. "Doctors, they are going to --"

-- claws scrabbled at the soil. Squeaks became something all too close to growls. And Luna was starting to delve within herself, but Star Swirl's trick had only ever allowed the projection of a field past some horn-covering barriers, it had never gone through an object after the corona had been ignited, she could not reach through the glass to separate them --

The doctors were frozen. None of them could move, for movement would not help. Only one could enter the room, and he would not be able to clear the airlock in time. All the physicians could do was watch, and Luna...

...she couldn't do anything.

Anything at all.

Nothing real.

The little claws scrabbled at the soil, claws which only tickled when they ran across fur, claws which suddenly looked so sharp. Scrabbled harder, faster...

Teeth flashed. Bit.

And then there was silence. The silence that existed in the gap between the final breath and the shadowlands.

"...what are they doing?" Vanilla softly asked the world.

The answer was there before them. It simply required Chocolate to voice it. "They're... eating the root..."

Growling slowed. Squeaking took over. The little grabbers glanced at each other, then mutually, briefly regarded the remains of the blooms before deciding there was nothing left worth their attention. Purple noses twitched.

Trial and Error wandered around the testing room, looking for food, because they were grabbers and there always had to be more food somewhere. And three ponies stared through the enchanted glass.

"Princess," Chocolate finally said, "we're going to need about fourteen hours. Five of those will be for sleeping, I swear. And then... we may need you back here. Possibly with Joyous. I don't want to get her hopes up too much, but you said that the two of you could only make a pair of trips each per day, and if I tell you what we've got and then one of you has to go back for her..."

His eyes were bright now. Bright with something as far removed from madness as it was possible to be.

"Fourteen hours," Vanilla confirmed through slow-flowing tears. "If she asks, if she looks like she needs... tell her we're checking something. That there's something to check. But... give us that time. Please."

Luna nodded, and her corona flared as she went into the between -- but she did not emerge in Mazein. Instead, she arrived in the castle gardens and simply trotted for a while, staring up at Moon, taking a moment for herself.

She would go back. She would tell her sister about what had happened. But she would not allow anypony to see the agony of her hope.

There was a large clump of thin brown strands on the table. The dirt had been cleaned away -- mostly. There was a chance that the dirt helped, and so a little had been left clinging to the roots.

"We used up most of our flowers in the repeat tests," Chocolate quietly told the sisters. "Even waiting a couple of hours between them and putting out less blooms each time... well, grabbers eat what they can. And getting them in and out, cleaning any pollen out of their fur, checking their vitals... we needed those hours, Princesses. But this is what we know. They breathe the pollen. Their appetite increases. And then they eat the root, and... as far as we can tell, they're normal."

"The dealers found one effect," Vanilla said, and they could hear the fury lurking under the syllables. "And then stopped, every time. Once they knew what the pollen did, that was enough. Their leader didn't care about learning more. He didn't have the patience for more, and he had bodies to toss on the compost heap. One effect. One. And if this works as we're hoping it does -- then it would be a binary drug. The pollen sets it off. The root neutralizes the pollen."

"We think it's a magical defense mechanism," Chocolate added. "To keep the species from being eaten into extinction. Grabbers eat everything. So instead of creating a stink they won't approach, or effects they can't get through, thorns they won't try to push past -- the flowers sacrifice a few of themselves, so the rest will survive. The grabbers reach the root -- and then they're just Trial and Error again."

"But," Vanilla finished, "there's a reason we asked you not to put too much faith in this. It's possible that the root just makes grabbers lose interest for a while, and only grabbers. But... if their magic was being intensified, and then returned to normal -- that might also affect them and nothing else. We don't know. There's only one way of finding out if it would affect a pony."

"And that's why we asked you," Chocolate concluded, "to bring Joyous here."

Brilliant yellow eyes stared at the brown strands on the table, the little white nodules dotting their length. The regard of Sun in the first moments of dawn.

"We have four known pony cases," Vanilla reminded them. "One is... new. Too new. I ran the full group of tests on Chocolate, and I couldn't find any biological signs that he'd been affected, the same way I never found anything in the blood for Joyous and her parents. He's not showing any magical signs yet, and might not do so for moons."

"I'm willing to be the test subject," Chocolate told the three mares. "To take the risk -- because just eating something nopony's ever consumed before comes with a lot of risks. But for me -- it means stalling, and not because of those risks. Remember, I'd be proof that unicorns can be affected. We wouldn't be sure of that until it happened. If I tried eating that right now, even if it cured me, there wouldn't be any signs. The changes aren't strong enough to pick up on a reversion."

Celestia slowly nodded. "Which leaves three pony cases. And even if the families of the affected minotaurs give us permission to take the chance, it doesn't tell us whether it'll help the Releases."

"Right," Vanilla said. "We'll need minotaur testing soon, but... Joyous?"

She looked at him, through the panel of the Hoovmat suit. Quiet. Waiting.

"We could try other animals," Vanilla said. "We could spend moons, years in seeing how the blooms affect different creatures, and if the root returns them all to normal. Of looking for long-term after-effects. But it's years of running risks. That somepony could mismanage the flowers, of having some pollen get out. Of having somepony or someone deliberately bring this into Equestria, or Protocera, or Pundamilia Makazi, and I don't want to think about what this would do with a zebra any more than I want to consider dragons. And none of it will ever tell us what it would do to a pony until the moment a pony tries it."

"Normally, we... wouldn't move this fast," Chocolate told them. "It's not good medical practice. But the rules are a little different when a patient is..." And couldn't finish.

"Dying," Joyous softly said. "The rules are a little different when somepony's dying."

"You're not," Vanilla reminded them. "Not if we keep things controlled. We think it's possible for this to -- be fatal: that crowd scenario. We can keep you away from that --"

"-- it's a risk," the young adult told the group. "Everything is a risk, isn't it? My talent could reach the point where it's strong enough to overwhelm the filters in seconds. And then if the wind is blowing the wrong way, the crowd could come to me."

Nopony could say anything.

"There's another factor," Chocolate told her. "Trial and Error ate the root within a minute of breathing the pollen. You've had this in your body for years, you and your parents both. That bundle on the table... we took our best estimate for the amount of root they were consuming in each test, then multiplied for the weight of an adult pegasus. But in the end, it's all a guess. The root may only be good within one minute -- or one moon -- or any amount of time which stops short of what you've been through. It may not be enough to do anything. It may be an overdose, because body weight might not be a factor." Long years of professional experience kept his words steady, at least for now. "It could kill whoever takes it."

"What we do know," Vanilla carefully added, "is that everypony and everyone with this is getting worse over time. And the longer we wait, the more of a chance there is that this might become something which can't be cured at all."

Celestia caught Luna looking at the bundle of roots. Back to Joyous. The roots.

"What are you asking me, Doctors?" Joyous softly inquired. "You keep going around it. Just -- say it. Please..."

The partners took a deep, mutual breath.

"We could wait," Chocolate said. "I told you that. It's your decision as to whether you want to wait for me to show signs, and then I'll be the test subject. But you know what the risks are in waiting."

"Or..." The smaller stallion visibly gathered strength, and most of it came from the unicorn standing next to him. "Your parents can't give consent. Not with the pollen thinking for them. You're their only family. Legally, with them unable to truly think for themselves -- you can give us permission to try this on one of them. Knowing we could... lose her."

"Or I take it," Joyous finished. "That's been it all along, isn't it? You might die, Doctor Bear -- or they might -- or I could."

Neither stallion could look at her, and so she looked to the sisters --

-- no. She looked to Luna.

The younger slowly, carefully knelt down. It left her looking up at Joyous, if only slightly.

"I have," Luna quietly began, "sent ponies to their deaths. It is a consequence of war, knowing that when one directs forces into battle, that force is composed of living beings -- and that some of them will not be coming back. But those ponies knew why they were fighting, Joyous. They were willing to risk death so that others might live, and thus they followed my orders. You understand what you would be fighting for. But you are a citizen of Equestria. You are not a Guard, nor are you part of our military. There are orders I cannot give you. I would never force this choice upon you: the world has done that. And I..." The dark eyes closed, the head dipped. "...cannot make it for you."

"What would you do?" The question had been soft. Sincere. Patient.

"I have," Luna said, and nothing could have kept the tinge of irony out of the words, much less the taint of self-hatred, "a certain obligation to live. Everypony recently seems to have felt the need to remind me of that. Repeatedly. And to that degree, my life is -- not my own."

Somehow, the lack of volume made the insistence all the more powerful. "If you were me? Exactly like me?"

A long moment of thought, for the younger owed her no less.

"My parents are dead," Luna said. "My father... died from what could be called disease, the incurable infection of madness. My mother from sorrow and neglect, that last coming partially from others thinking her mad in the last days of her life, when she only knew a truth that nopony else would believe. And I... went into chaos with my sister, to try and make a world where such pointless deaths could no longer occur. In the name of a dream, I risked myself. I would eat the root."

The fabric-covered head tilted down. Front knees bent forward.

Luna's eyes shot open. Stared at the snout nuzzling against her face.

"I'm sorry," Joyous softly said. "I know... it doesn't mean anything real, not after this much time. But I'm sorry. And I think I understand."

Luna -- scooted backwards without getting up, barrel sliding across the floor as she moved on one kind of instinct, getting out of range before a second instinct could fully react. And Joyous giggled.

"Sorry..." the pegasus said, and they watched the fabric around her mouth crinkle from the underlying smile. "But maybe I do understand. It's not your life, is it? Not completely. It's everypony's lives -- no, everyone's. You both risked so much, trying to help me. You risked... everything. I'm not worth that. I never was." And before anypony could say anything. "But with me, it's my life. I can't say if Doctor Bear gets to live or die. I can't say that for my parents. I don't have that right. But it is my life. The flower tried to take that from me, from everyone who's been near it. And it's still my life --"

Her head tossed: left, right, left, with a little half-rotation on each. The suit locks slid free, and invisible mists filled the air as the helmet slammed into the wall.

They all gasped. They all breathed.

"Joyous!"

For some, there were words beyond that. Vanilla was starting to say something about staged doses, trying a tiny amount of root now and then increasing the consumption later. Chocolate got caught in the middle of talking about additional testing. Celestia, however, simply ignited her horn -- and then looked down to see Luna's foreleg stretched out, pressing the weakest of barriers against her. A barrier which still lasted for just long enough.

Joyous scooped up the roots, chewed twice, and swallowed.

The metallic fur bounced sterile-seeming light into their eyes as her face screwed up into a grimace.

"This tastes horrible," she said.

And then the convulsions began.

She was on the floor in an instant, her legs kicking out in random directions, back arced to the point where it seemed as if her spine had to break, wings desperately pushing against the fabric of the suit with enough force to break bones. Doctors, sisters, everypony dropped down and Chocolate's horn ignited with his field quickly, precisely cutting at the yellow, freeing those limbs just before the first wingtip could fracture, but she was writhing, eyes rolling wildly, the convulsions forced one of the rips to move down her flanks and Celestia saw the mark, the froth which was beginning to coat it as the pegasus body broke out in a full-body coat of something so much more dangerous than sweat.

None of it was enough to hide the sudden flare of light.

Two metallic pegasus mares rested in their beds.

They usually slept together, or at least their bodies did. What had been left of them no longer remembered any reason why sharing a bed had started in the first place, and nothing was ever done in the beds which temporarily hosted them in various places across the world, nothing other than sleep, as doing anything else was no part of resting so that more surveying could be done. But on this day... separate beds, and the sleep was not a natural one. In some ways, it was barely sleep at all.

A single pony quietly entered the room, looked from red to green. Waited.

In time, when Sun had fully stretched across the room to drape the entirety of her bed in warmth, the eyes of the green slowly opened. Then they shut again, almost immediately, and the wince spread from face to body.

"I have," Rapture told whatever part of the world might care to listen, "the worst headache. Of my life. And my joints ache. All of them. I don't even think some of these aches are joints."

A soft groan answered her from the other bed. "Oh, Sun and Moon, keep it down... Rapture, what did we do last night...?"

"Drunk," Rapture told her spouse. "Drunk off our hooves. So drunk that I don't even remember drinking."

Pleasant frowned, eyes still squeezed shut. "I don't remember much of anything... but we don't drink like that any more. We had our last end-of-survey party on the night before we decided to file the application for the Most Special Spell. We couldn't drink like that any more..."

She sighed.

"I'm thirsty," Pleasant said, fighting to get her head up as the last of the sedatives slowly wore off. "Is there any water?"

"I have water," the pegasus standing between the beds said. "Mom... Dam... I brought you water..."

They opened their eyes, both mares, looked towards a voice both familiar and not. And it could be said that the first thing they saw were the years, every day they had missed gathered together and rammed into them with a force that nearly knocked both out of their hospital beds. Saw puberty and the start of adulthood and the pain that came from not having been there for any of it. The shock tried to set in then, and became all the worse when they truly spotted each other, saw each other and the toll forgotten years had taken.

There would be shock, later. There would be talking, and some of it would turn into screams of rage at everything which had happened, the things they had been unable to prevent combined with all which had been lost. There would be blame, all of it directed inward, and it would take long hours to bring them even partially away from it, with frequent efforts required to temporarily stave off relapse. But in that moment, there was no time for any of it. There was only their daughter in the center of the room, standing between the beds, crying.

So they went to her.

And the sisters watched through the new room's one-way glass for only a moment before each tapped a physician with a forehoof and gently led them away. For some pain needed to be private...

...and the same could be said for joy.

Afterglow

If you knew something about minotaurs, you would know how much they hated chains. They would only use them in machinery, for those arrangements of gears where nothing else could possibly work and even then, they would resist to the last. They despised tying any of their own down and loathed confinement, for true freedom included the right to move where one wished.

But if you knew something about minotaurs, you would also know they weren't stupid. And so of the two bulls waiting in the cold room of reinforced stone and metal, with police officers watching every movement through an enchanted, reinforced panel of quartz (but unable to hear the words, for prisoners speaking in conference had the right to privacy for their words alone), one had been attached to his chair. One arm had been left free, so he could accept the glasses of water which the police were increasingly reluctant to provide. It also gave him the ability to pretend he was about to sign documents, right up until the moment he laughed and refused yet again, generally with that special smirk which made the officers consider whether water should be coming at all. His ankles had also been lashed to the chair's front legs, and that seat had been bolted to the floor. For minotaurs cherished their freedoms, and so had a hard time dealing with the ones who took those rights away.

This one had traded the right of others to life for a few scant bits. Minotaur law dictated that he be given food and water. Minotaur instincts urged them to take away air. But they could not, at least for this stage, not while the current part of the law ruled them. The dealer knew that, and smirked.

He turned to his lawyer, at least in the movement of his head. That had been left free, and everyone had already learned to stay well back from deliberately-sharpened horns.

"She's late," he said. "Maybe she decided she's got better things to do."

The attorney said nothing, for there were times when silence was legally advisable.

The dealer snorted. "Her funeral." And a snicker. "Lots of funerals."

She heard all that, for she was in the approach hallway, and only the observation post was blocked from sound. She heard the true amusement in it. And then she stepped forward, deliberately planting her hooves with extra weight, so they would know she was coming.

"Huh," the dealer noted as the sounds reached him. "So that's either the world's fattest pony, or..."

They had given her a key. She used it, and stepped inside.

"So what do I call you?" the dealer asked with a completely false camaraderie. "Her Royal Whiteness? Lady Highhooves? No, wait, I've got it -- how about I call you what you are?" And he grinned. "Trespasser."

"You asked to speak with me," Celestia calmly said as her field closed the door behind her. "I'm here. What do you want, Choke Hold?"

The dealer's grin became wider. He leaned forward slightly, as much as the binding would allow, and rested his right elbow on the table. "We'll talk in a few minutes. After he talks." A nod to the attorney. "Mr. Heenan?"

The lawyer took a precise step forward. Celestia didn't move.

"You were trespassing on the property," he began.

"Your client," Celestia calmly replied, "has no deed to that property. When you don't own something, it's rather hard to claim trespass. However, if you're admitting it's his property, then you're also opening yourself to having the things on that property as potentially, and legally, belonging to him. So let's just clear up whose property it is right now, shall we?"

Mr. Heenan stared at her. She stared right back.

"The property," the lawyer tried, just a little less sure of himself than before, "when it comes to ownership, does not matter. The land is in a wild zone. It has no owner, and so it has no one it can be purchased from. It belongs to the one who is willing to take the risk of settling it. Which someone clearly did, as there are buildings there. However, that individual is not necessarily my client. There is an argument to be made that he simply found the abandoned results of the last settlement attempt, in the company of his friends, and tried to move in. Just in time for you to attack."

There was a table between them, and numerous metal chairs around it for interviewing officers to fume in. Two sturdy benches were present for the use of the ponies on the force. Nothing was suitable for Celestia to rest on other than the table itself, and she would have preferred for it not to be there at all. It prevented her from approaching directly, stopping right in front of them and looming. Instead, she simply stood at the far end, near the door.

"Oh," she said. "I see where this is going. Speaking to the officers on my way in gave me a few hints, but being told about the painting that's in progress never lets you appreciate the true artistry. Not like a direct viewing." She bemusedly shrugged. "Do you mind if I cut this a little short? Here's your arguments as I see them. Mr. Hold and his friend are innocent victims. They had just claimed the property when a group of ponies, who have yet to truly account for why they were in the area at all, especially as none of them are currently obligated to do so, raided them with intent to hurt, and so your poor client -- clients? How many are you representing? Well, at any rate, he defended himself, along with all his friends. And the drugs? Grown instantly by earth pony magic: certainly a Princess should be able to prove she can do that or rather, on the stand, won't be able to prove she can't. It's a frame job, a horrible frame by those hateful Equestrians who just -- let me try this one out -- wanted the land for themselves? And the notebooks were planted, the bodies were created by us, and all you need is a jury stupid enough to buy all of it, which in Mazein is going to be a challenge, especially since your trials still work by supermajority. One idiot isn't enough to derail: you'd need at least three. But you can threaten three -- oh, did I say threaten? Discuss the trial with. In private. Possibly in a room where the walls are covered in whips."

The dealer snorted, and some of it seemed to be in amusement. The lawyer took a precise step back.

"Have I shoveled enough of the περιττώματα ταύρος you were planning to throw in my face?" Celestia politely asked. "Mazein criminal law isn't my specialty. But I can read, and I can listen when someone is trying to brief me. Illegal trespassing, so all of the evidence must have somehow been gathered illegally as well. Framing of the innocent. The wrong place at the wrong time. Some sort of Vast Pony Conspiracy and if you need a little help imagining the details on that, I know a few individuals who can create false connections with the best of them. I'm aware that the way the events occurred might lead to some of the charges being dismissed, if only to keep the judge from throwing them out of court. But others are going to be harder. Especially once the testimony begins."

"Your presence at the site is not explained," Mr. Heenan began. "Your testimony --"

"-- oh, I'll testify, when it comes to that," Celestia smiled. "About how Referee Moonsault taught me about red-tinge after a victim of it charged into her office and tried to kill her. How I was told about the plant and thought that as Mazein's ally, it would be nice of me to help find a cure. There can be more details later, if the circumstances warrant them. But for now, that's enough to build on. And it's not my testimony that counts anyway, really. It's that of your employees, Mr. Hold."

It only made him grin. "There won't be any."

"You seem rather sure."

"They won't talk." The arm spreading would have been more visually effective if both arms had been capable of movement. "Because there's nothing to talk about."

She nodded. "Likely they won't. Because they're just that scared, and they have so much to be scared of. Unless, of course, someone were to offer them immunity in exchange for their testimony."

"Lying about their best friend because the police scared them with false charges and they decided to save their own skins," Choke Hold smiled. "It's not that hard, getting a jury to hate a traitor."

"They wouldn't be the ones testifying."

The subtle emphasis got through, and the dealer tilted his head, waiting.

"Two members of your so-called test squad survived," Celestia quietly offered. "The ones who weren't healthy enough to be let out of their cells and join the reinforcements for the promise of bonus pay. The ones you just left to shiver on their pallets without medical attention. Once they received it... well, they're stable now. And quite willing to talk."

Choke Hold just kept grinning. Mr. Heenan blinked.

"I want their names," the lawyer said. "I am allowed to know who the witnesses will be."

"We're not approaching the trial phase yet," Celestia shrugged. "And I'm not an officer of this court. So I don't have to tell you anything. Names or locations -- which, by the way, is currently not in Mazein. It's a big world, and there are a lot of rather attractive places to recuperate in. Would you like to start taking guesses? Oh, and Mr. Heenan, how many years of legal experience do you have? Do you think it's more or less than all the time I've spent sitting as a judge? I'm no expert on your laws, at least when the subject turns away from trade -- but I know my own, and I'm willing to learn. Let's compare our schooling. Degrees. Time."

Another step back, limbs moving as if the joints were operated by clockwork. But still, the dealer's grin would not fade.

"Mr. Heenan," Celestia stated, "you are overmatched."

Choke Hold snorted.

"Get out of here," he told his lawyer.

The older bull stared at his client.

"I --"

"-- I wanted her here. I've got her. So let me talk to her. She's not gonna try anything, right? She's the good girl. I don't get to talk with good girls much and usually after I do, they're not so good any more. So get out."

"I wish to register," the lawyer stiffly said, "my official protest."

"I wish to register my horns up your -- look, why are you even still here? Get."

The attorney left, with the gears in his arms slowly grinding down to a near-halt as the door closed. They both waited until the last of the hoofsteps had faded.

"So there we go," Choke said. "Just you and me. Like I wanted." A nod towards the quartz. "They don't count. As long as they can't hear."

Celestia shrugged. "You and me, Choke. So... what did you want to say?"

"It's pretty simple," he said. "Now, Mr. Heenan there, you shook him up a little. Enough that I'm gonna think about getting a new lawyer. Don't ask what happens to the old one. But he still had some points. You didn't exactly follow a lot of procedures there, when you came in. Any. So there's a lot of charges I could get dropped, if I pushed hard enough. And it's not that hard to find three idiots for a jury. Or, just an expression here, scare them up... Still, you know, trials take time. And honestly, you've got me worried about those two on whatever this test squad thing is. Sounds like they were pretty sick. When you're sick like that, you could imagine all sorts of things and think they were real. Hard to believe anything they'd say. Days of sitting, listening to them remember dreams... boring, right? So let's talk, you and me. About deals."

She sat, slowly and deliberately, staying at the far end of the table.

"Again, Choke, I'm not an officer of the court," she said. "I really can't make deals in Mazein."

"You head up Equestria," he shrugged. "You've got influence. People wanna keep you happy. If you asked for something -- something little, like for me -- you'd get it. So I'm gonna offer you something. You'll take it. And then you'll tell them to call the whole thing off, let me go, and we'll both be happy. Everyone benefits -- and... everypony? That's the word? Sorry: only got a second-tier grade when they were forcing me to study Equestrian, and it's kind of been a while since I tried to use it."

The grin became wider and, for those who had no experience of him, for those who would have just been meeting a bull for the first time, perhaps in hopes of a high-paying job gifted to them when they were truly desperate, it might have even seemed friendly.

"What are you offering, Choke?" she asked.

"I like that," he said. "That you're calling me Choke already. Can I call you Celly?"

No. She waited.

He spoke, eventually. And if it was not for the words, it would have been a small victory.

"You don't like red-tinge," he said. "I guess I can understand that. Nasty stuff! I've heard the official warnings. And what with your friend getting a dose of it -- he's your friend, right? Sorry about your friend."

She said nothing.

"Yeah, you've got some reasons not to like it," he finally continued. "So here's how it works. You tell them to let me go. No charges. No time. I just head off wherever I want to. After speaking to a few people first, who'll talk to other people, because I don't know anyone at the end of the chain personally or whatnot. Really, I don't know much of anything, just ask my teacher for Equestrian. But let's say, purely on the hypothetical, that it works like this. Completely hypothetical, and it's your word against mine for anything I said here. No witnesses for the words, balancing testimony... you get me, right?"

She nodded.

"So, here's your hypothetical," he told her, and again leaned forward, as much as he was able. "You let me go -- or red-tinge comes into Equestria. Because I'm not the guy who can do it, but I bet there's a few out there who could. If they knew the market was there. They might just start opening up a whole new country. And, you know, unless someone talks them out of it..."

Her head went down. She stared at the cold floor for a while. She could feel the heat of his smirk.

"'And'," Celestia said.

That was when she laughed.

It was soft. More of a chuckle than anything else, a single, subdued "Heh." But it made Choke Hold sit a little straighter in his metal chair.

"...what's so funny?"

"Oh, it's all right," Celestia smiled, and chuckled again. "I understand. Second-tier grade, after all. I wouldn't expect you to be completely fluent. A little conjunction trouble..." More of a titter this time.

She'd known he would hate laughter: any joke which seemed to be on him. "I said, what's so --"

"-- 'You let me go,'" Celestia corrected him, "'and red-tinge comes into Equestria.' Because that's the real deal, isn't it?"

She raised her head, just in time to see him fighting to control his eyes. To keep them from widening, phasing into the first stages of orange. "I think I know what I --"

Celestia stomped her right forehoof, just once. He stopped.

"You asked for the good girl," she smiled, and began to stand up. "I understand that. I really do. Shortly after the Return, some people started to ask if they could deal with Luna instead of me. Because she's smaller, and so she has to be weaker, plus she'd missed so much, she had to be the easy target for a con. That stopped, and rather quickly. Because I let a few of them deal with her, and they found out that Luna doesn't make threats. A threat implies you might not follow through. It was... sort of nice, going back to the old system, at least here and there. I smiled, and I was polite, and just behind me was a tail lashing with flaring stars, and no one really wanted to upset that tail. But you asked for me, Choke. Luna showed you a little of herself, and a little bit more while she was slamming you into your buildings. So you went for me -- because you thought you were getting the pushover."

He looked as if he wanted to say something. He also looked as if he couldn't. Confusion warred with rage on his face, and the conflict quickly resolved in favor of alliance, slowly shifting the chroma of his eyes.

"I'm the good one," Celestia said as she slowly began to trot forward. "Aren't I? Isn't that what everypony and everyone believes? I follow the rules. I made most of them. And when someone like you comes along, whose only rule is to make sure he survives, they look at me and see somepony they can beat without even trying. Because I have to follow the rules. I read your notebooks, Choke. You believe yourself to be something of a scientist. You made up a theory, didn't you? Survival of the fittest. Which means anyone who doesn't survive didn't deserve to. I know you a little through your writing, and it was a refreshing read, really. A reminder. That some monsters walk under Sun, and a few of them wear minotaur skins. It's my duty to stand against the daywalkers. That's a rule I follow. But I'm bound, aren't I? By laws and traditions and customs and just having to be good. So if I made that deal with you, it would show you I was weak. There's no need to honor a bargain with the weak. You'd bring red-tinge into Equestria no matter what I did. Because I deserved it for being weak. Because you wanted revenge for being in prison, even for a little while. Because you might get some bits out of it. Because you're a monster, Choke, and you're not even one who's very creative about his excuses for it. And when it comes to a monster against a good girl... the monster wins."

Halfway down the table now, watching his jaw madly clenching with a fury which had nowhere else to go. Nowhere except those reddening eyes.

"You're right," she told him. "About the witnesses, I mean. Three minotaurs in the adjoining room. They can't hear anything I say, and the distortion of this particular piece of quartz means that if they have anyone who could normally try to lip-read, that would fail. They don't know what we're talking about, any of it, and in the end, it would come down to your word against mine. They only know what they see. So since we have privacy... I want to tell you some things."

She paused, just a quarter-body length away. Titled her head slightly, smiled.

"I know," she said, "that you're afraid of the other dealers. That they were after you because you didn't care how many customers you killed, or test squad members, or -- well, that you didn't care, let's leave it at that. It's how I know you're a monster, by the way. You're only a monster if you could potentially care and don't. But the point is, Choke, that I read your notebooks, so I know what your defenses were really for. And if you go to prison... that's where a few of their own caught ones live, right? I bet they'd do anything for a few favors from the outside. Such as taking out the trash. You have so many reasons to be afraid of prison, Choke... but why would you be afraid of me? I'm the good girl, and being good is what the weak do."

She couldn't repress the little sigh. But to be fair, she barely tried.

"Being good," she said, "is hard. There are times when simple politeness is the most excruciating thing you could ever do. I'm good by choice, Choke, and part of that is because I know what all the other options look like. But it's just you and me here, right? And you offered me a deal. I'm not taking it. But I almost have to respect the sheer level of monstrosity it took for you to try it, especially knowing you intended to watch ponies die the whole time. So I'm giving you something back. A few secrets to cherish wherever you're going, for as long as you last there before your Ancients gore you out of their house."

She took a tiny step forward.

"We have a cure for red-tinge. It's being spread around your hospitals as we speak. So it really doesn't matter what you do, not that you'll ever get a chance to try. Well, that's not much of a secret, is it? Everyone will know in a day or two. Let me offer something better."

His eyes were almost completely scarlet now. Muscles strained against the bindings, and the one free fist was clenched so tightly that it seemed as if it was collapsing in on itself.

Another step.

"Oh, here's one!" she smiled, and arced her neck forward. "Did you know that you can't keep control of a country for as long as I have without being just a little bit of a pragmatist?" The last step, and she checked her position before the last words were sent out to do their damage. "And it doesn't matter if your new lawyer somehow gets all the charges associated with the raid dropped. If every witness vanishes, if you terrify jurors and abuse loopholes and just try killing your way to freedom. Because there's one charge which won't be dropped. One individual you can't intimidate. You're going to prison, Choke, for visibly committing a crime in front of very reliable witnesses. And there's just one more thing you might want to know. It's not much of a secret, really... a few minotaurs know it, I'm sure. But it'll explain so much to you, especially about what you're going through right now."

She stared into the red of his eyes. The bulging muscles of arms and neck and chest.

"Unicorn magic," she said, "especially for simple physical manipulation of monsters -- can be hidden."

The bindings around legs and wrist broke, because she had told them to. The bull shot out of his chair and took a tremendous swing at her, because she would not allow his invisibly-constrained limbs to do anything else, any more than she'd allowed him to talk. She moved just enough to make the blow a glancing one, just something which would visibly bruise the flesh under her fur rather than shatter her jaw. And then Celestia seized his body in her surging, suddenly very visible field, because his body needed a reason for having her signature on it. She flung him into the wall and then, strictly in the name of that same reason, she hit him with the chair a few times. That was followed by wrapping him with the retied bindings, although that last part was mostly a formality, given that he was unconscious and the police were just about in the room.

She turned to them in open relief as the reinforcements stormed the area.

"He must have gotten a dose of red-tinge!" Celestia gasped. "I brought some of the cure with me just in case we found new cases in the area... breaking those bindings..."

"We'll give it to him," the oldest officer assured her. "Are you okay?"

She rubbed her right forehoof against her jaw. The bruise was coming up fast, but the tenderness seemed to have a good head start. "More or less."

"Assault on a Princess," the youngest snorted, reaching down to check the renewed bindings. "In front of witnesses. I'm guessing you'll be pressing charges? Please say yes..."

"Yes," Celestia said, and forced a pained smile.

In some ways, that was the end of it, at least for Choke. But there were other endings to deal with, and not all of them proceeded so smoothly.

"The suits?" Rounding Moonsault not-quite-asked them at the moment they got through the office's new door.

"Hoovmat manufacture," Luna said. "They have recently improved their product, although they are oddly reluctant to continue manufacture at such high standards. Still, it provided us with a supply which allows the wearers some true degree of safety when working with hazardous materials."

"Hoovmat," the Referee slowly said. "That was the pony in the article. The one it said you were using the tax system against."

Luna spotted her sister fighting back the wince. "You have seen the quality of our press, Referee Moonsault. He simply had a certain disagreement with us over money. He believed he should never spend any of it on his customer's desires. What of the suits worn by the growers? Have you located the manufacturer?"

"Not yet," the minotaur tensely replied. "We're looking."

"Well," Celestia noted, "there's certainly a market waiting if they want to come into the open. I expect Equestria to open up in about four years."

The Referee looked at them for a while, one to the other and back again.

"So you searched for the plants," she said, "because of what I told you. Because you were worried about us."

They nodded.

"How did you find them?"

"Magic," Luna said in the off-hoofed way of somepony who knew the plant-finder lie had galloped itself into the ground.

"What kind of magic?"

"I'm sorry if this sounds a little... well, pony," Celestia stated, "but it's hard to explain every last detail of a working to someone who can't cast. 'Magic' will have to suffice."

Rounding Moonsault stood up. Stared at them. Loomed.

"And that's pure coincidence," she said. "Your coming to Mazein on tour for the first time in nearly two centuries. Finding out about the flower. Finding them for us. Finding a cure. Just pure dumb luck, you both being here, right then."

"I am uncertain as to what else you would call it," Luna shrugged. "Incidentally, we still have two days of our tour remaining and we interrupted them to visit you once the request arrived. There is a rather fine wrestling match scheduled for this evening, and I would rather not miss it. Referee Moonsault, we are allies, Mazein and Equestria, the oldest allies still standing together in this world. Allies offer aid to one another when it is needed, regardless of whether anyone formally requested such. We helped you and should it ever be necessary, I hope that we can help you once again -- or that, as our allies, you will still come to our aid when the need arises. Would you attend the wrestling match with us? It has been quite some time, and I would benefit from the company of someone who could tell me the names of the newest moves."

The Referee didn't say anything for a full minute. Bandaged hands slowly unclenched.

"I went to see Rake this morning," she said.

They nodded.

"I yelled at him. For about an hour. And then I kicked him to the back of the debate queue. For starters."

Again.

"There's this rumor that you have a time travel spell," she said. "Something that allows you to spend about half a minute in the past, but you can't change anything. I'm guessing you're not going to confirm that."

Neither sibling risked the slightest degree of movement.

"So if I went back and screamed at myself for being stupid enough to date him, it wouldn't do anything."

Total, well-practiced silence.

"Just coincidence," she said, and slowly began to sit down.

That seemed to be worth a nod.

"I am," Rounding Moonsault steadily said, "completely certain you're both lying to me. Thank you for the cure, Sisters Invictus. Thank you for the lives of all those you saved, and accept my thanks on the behalf of all the Ancients who weren't expecting anyone to move in just yet. Please enjoy the rest of your tour. And get the bucking Tartarus out of my office."

They stood among the flowers, minotaur and pony, looking out over the blooms.

Torque sighed. The sound was odd, coming from inside his suit. "Sorry, Celestia. I know things are going to be strained for a while. Just know I'll keep things friendly on my end, okay? For as long as I can stay voted into the post."

"She's a good ageláda," Celestia observed, forcing her own breath through the filters. "And a very strong Referee. The first part... is actually what makes it harder. But we can't tell her everything. Not yet." Not when everything still involved a potentially huge problem.

"I'm not sure you've told me everything," Torque snorted, and Celestia had the grace to blush. "But in my case, I know better than to ask..."

The breeze rustled across seafoam. Neither could feel it against covered fur.

"The disease," Torque finally said, "comes with the cure. Which means we can't destroy the flowers. Both nations need to have a supply set aside, because even if we wipe everything out here, someone could come across a patch in another wild zone, and we have to be ready to treat the victims. That means deliberately growing them. Every nation might wind up needing them eventually."

"I know." The wince had mostly been hidden by the suit. "And we don't know how it manifests in the other species, so we can't send anyone out to look for specific cases. We just have to hope someone notices deep magic gone wrong -- and correctly diagnoses the cause."

"I'm not asking for volunteers to test the effects," Torque said. "We'd probably just find the one species where the pollen works and the root doesn't."

Celestia sighed. "Luna asked me to apologize for the intrusion, by the way. She usually doesn't go to minotaur nightmares, but she said your call was --"

"-- loud," Torque finished. "I know."

They stood under Sun, on a calm day where none of the warmth touched them.

"It's not much of a weapon," Torque said. "Use it on minotaurs and it'll make for the strongest army -- physically -- anyone's ever seen. Along with turning them into single-minded soldiers who might not be able to listen to any new orders. Like 'stop'."

"Use it on ponies," Celestia added, "and it'll provide stronger magic -- over several years, while potentially distorting the mind of everypony who took it until they're nothing more than trotting extensions of their talents. And in both cases, the people will effectively stop existing. It's not a weapon, Torque, although I think we're going to both be waiting for the person who's stupid enough to try using it as one. It's a horror. And it's a horror we'll have to live with, because without it, we can't stop it."

The big bull slowly knelt down, picked up the curved shovel. "I trust you," he simply stated. "I trust you more than some of mine think I should. None of this changes that."

She smiled, and hoped he'd seen the crinkling of the suit. "I trust my friends, Torque. I trust that you won't use them. You'll trust that I won't. And because we know we both could, neither of us ever will. Shall we?"

He nodded, scooped dirt into the first of two hundred waiting pots.

"One for you," he counted off. "And one for me. One for you..."

"So we've... finished with the last of the tests," Vanilla awkwardly began, forcing his eyes away from that one chart. "The minotaurs are all back to normal. A lot of them have muscle strains, and the ones who were in the end stages have hairline fractures of various bones: their skeletons weren't meant to deal with that much strength. But they'll heal."

Luna frowned. "You are stalling," she openly noted. "I suspected the news was not altogether positive when you asked us to come to your offices one last time. Although we were planning on -- well, we will discuss that shortly." That led to a glance towards Celestia, whose nod reaffirmed the agreement they'd spent most of the previous day arguing over. Luna suspected they were both hoping for that one argument which would talk them out of it. "So tell us what is wrong, Doctors. The minotaurs will be well. That implies..." and it was an effort not to close her eyes, with a somewhat more automatic one keeping voice steady and legs straight "...that the ponies will not."

Celestia sighed. "If there's bad news, I think we need to have it now. After all of that, after everything..."

"It's not bad," Chocolate hastily said. "It's just... weird."

Both siblings stared at him.

"Weird," Luna repeated.

"Very," Vanilla confirmed.

"What kind of 'weird'?"

The physicians risked a mutual breath.

"Pleasant and Rapture are normal," Vanilla said. "Physically and magically. They have a lot of missing memories from when the pollen was in effect. They've basically skipped several years of their lives, and... that's going to have an effect. It's not something we can treat." He sighed. "It'll be somepony else's job there, and it won't be an easy one. But as far as their bodies are concerned, they're where they should be. They're thinking clearly, or as clearly as somepony who's still dealing with the consequences of everything that happened could be expected to think. Rapture's -- been blaming herself a lot. She's the one who first spotted the flowers. But Pleasant and Joyous are keeping an eye on her."

"Magically," Chocolate went on, "is harder to measure. Especially for something as subtle as a normal talent. And it's not like they want to do any weather surveying right now, or maybe... for a long time. But I managed to talk Pleasant into a little of it, and sent the results to the Bureau. They were -- disappointed. They said it's expert work, but they want to know when we're getting their geniuses back."

"Which," Luna slowly said, "leaves Joyous. What is wrong, Doctors? Now."

They all waited for the last echoes of thunder to fade.

Vanilla's words did not emerge with indecent haste. Indecency had been pushed out of the way. "She's not normal."

"How?" a visibly pained Celestia immediately asked. "We were there, Doctors: her mark shone, as if she was going through manifest all over again, and when she woke up, she was able to turn her pheromone production off! We all saw it through the filter spell! How is she not normal?"

"Her magic..." Chocolate swallowed. "...it's under her control now. We talked her -- barely -- into experimenting a little. She really wants to just leave it turned off. And when she did use it on her own, she was trying to produce neutralizing pheromones. Canceling out what she'd already done. She also wants to figure out if she can deliberately exclude affecting somepony. We think both things might be within her capabilities, once she gets some practice. But..."

"...her strength," Vanilla gulped, "never dropped."

The mares stared at the stallions.

"We don't know why," Chocolate said. "We can only guess. Maybe it's because the pollen was in her body during manifest. Her parents had a normal level they could return to, the amount of power they'd operated with for years. But for strength of magic, Joyous' body doesn't know what a typical pony normal is. We're sure the intensification has ended, although we asked them all to come back for follow-ups regularly. She has the most basic form of control: stopping. And she's learning more. But her talent, when she deliberately uses it... she doesn't have to use it at full strength, even if she's still learning how to finely control that. But when it comes to the most she can do -- nothing's changed."

They all took a few seconds to think about it.

"She will live?" Luna asked.

The Doctors Bear nodded.

"I believe," Luna decided, "we can deal with the rest. Thank you, Doctors. For everything. And with that said..."

Celestia stepped forward. "You have been entrusted," she said, "with some of Equestria's greatest secrets. You know what we once were, and the same for Princess Cadance." The visit to the North had been on the previous day, a personal follow-up to all the scrolls Celestia had been sending. All was well, and some portions of Shining Armor's mane had begun to (unevenly) grow back. "That isn't something we tell ponies casually, Doctors." (Luna noticed that the trembling started with Vanilla's right front knee, and then watched the rest of the migration with some fascination, especially when it jumped bodies.) "Furthermore, you've been studying us. Samples of our blood, fur, feathers --"

"-- mane..." Luna automatically chimed in.

It got her a glare, and then the elder refocused her attention. "You know a lot. When you include the medical data, it's more than we've trusted anypony with in a very long time." (Chocolate's eyes were now actively beginning to search for extra exits, none of which actually existed.) "And so, in a mutual decision, we are asking you..." She looked at Luna --

-- who directed her glare just about straight up. "So it is for me to say."

"It was your idea."

Reluctantly. "You agreed with it!" Eventually.

The tones were starting to become cautionary. "Princess Luna..."

She just barely resisted the urge to stomp a hoof. "Oh, very well. Doctor Bear --" and a glance at the shaking other "-- and Doctor Bear -- we are reviving the post of Royal Physician. We wish for the two of you to fill it."

Luna watched them, and marveled at how two swaying stallions so different in build could physically balance each other off when their forms were leaning what had to be their full weight against each other. By all rights, Chocolate should have been driving Vanilla into the floor.

The diagnostician got the word out first. "...why?"

"Recent events," Luna told them, "have taught us that we need to know more about how our bodies work. We had reasons for avoiding investigations after the first nights, Doctors, and some of those still hold true in the modern ones. There is information which cannot be allowed to spread. But now, it is information we need to discover. We may be immune to many things. We might be susceptible to others. And we need ponies with us who can learn. It might avert the next crisis. It could simply teach us things we should have found out long ago. Either way, we wish for you to be the ones who conduct those investigations -- carefully. Under supervision. Doing no more than we allow, unless that crisis should come."

"Without sneaking into our bedrooms with extra needles," Celestia quickly added.

Luna had no issues with the additional requirement. "So. Will you accept?"

Vanilla fainted. Chocolate managed to rebalance himself just in time to keep from falling on top of his partner.

"That... usually means yes," he said. "We'll just double-check when he wakes up."

It was twenty minutes before the sisters trotted out of the office.

"So they will maintain their practice for a time," Luna said, "but slowly shift the bulk of their duties to the palace. I can accept a transition period. As long as we truly have their services available within a few moons."

Celestia nodded. "It wasn't a bad idea, Luna. I know neither of us is exactly looking forward to the tests, but as long as we're both going through them..."

Luna sighed. "He plucked my feathers."

"Chocolate got me too."

"Did he get the right feathers?"

"On the second try. You?"

"It required more than two. Let us leave it at that."

They kept trotting for a while.

"They are talented, though," Celestia noted.

"Oh, yes."

"And they try crazy things."

"Completely insane. Bottling air..."

A long pause.

"We need them where we can keep an eye on them."

"Yes. That was the general idea."

They met Joyous in the Lunar throne room, shortly after Moon-raising. There were no Guards present, and no duties were calling for either of them.

"The doctors want to see me in two moons," the beautiful pegasus quietly said. Freshly-preened wings stretched a little, and her feathers rustled. "And my parents. To check on us. But they think everything's going to be okay. And... I went shopping yesterday. I had... I had my mane done, and... I just talked to the manestylist. About nothing. For an hour."

"They're used to it," Celestia smiled. "Joyous -- before you go, there's something I wanted to say." Yellow eyes stared up at her. "I said -- back at that inn, I tried..."

"...it wasn't your fault," Joyous softly replied. "You weren't thinking right. You weren't... thinking much at all. So you just said things, hoping they would -- work, and... for what you said... they were just -- things. I haven't told anypony else about what happened. What you said. Not my parents, not the doctors, and... I don't think I have to tell anypony. Ever."

Celestia continued to smile, and wondered if any of the pain was showing through. "Thank you."

"There is something else," Luna said, and her horn ignited. Stars surrounded the small piece of paper resting on the cushions of her throne, then opened the lid of Joyous' new left saddlebag and deposited it inside. "Physically, you are well. The changes to your magic are something which -- I have confidence in your ability to deal with. But in the mind... both you and your parents have been through much. Lost much. That is the name and address of the best therapist we know of, one who can be trusted. I understand that you wish some time with your family, but -- please. I am asking you, Joyous: see her. All three of you. Minds also need healing. Will you do that for me? I cannot order you -- but I am asking."

The pegasus slowly nodded, managed a small smile. "I will. We will. I'll tell them when I get outside." A glance at the closed doors of the Moonrise Gate, which had two metallic pegasi mares waiting on the other side. "I know it's... not quite over. I've been trying to think of what I can even do."

It made Luna tilt her head. "Do?"

"Well..." Awkwardly, "I never finished school. I've been talking about that with my mom and dam. I have to take makeup classes, and I will, when we get back. But once that's over, I have to find a job. And... what does somepony whose talent is for being sexy even do?"

Elder looked to younger, found the other looking back, and both barely managed to stifle their first reaction.

"There are... occupations," Luna finally said. Much more quickly, "Yes. Occupations. Let us leave it at that for now. But I do not wish you investigating them just yet, and certainly not before you speak with the therapist for a rather extended period of time. And you always have the option of doing things outside your talent, Joyous. Things you enjoy. You are more than your mark. It can guide you -- but it should never think for you. I believe you of all ponies understand that in full."

She nodded, and the obsidian mane did beautiful things to the light.

"So what are you going to do now?" Celestia asked. "You said you'd take the classes when you got back. That makes it sound like you're planning on going somewhere, with your family. And with what you said about traveling..."

"They're -- going to take time off," Joyous replied. "A lot of it. The disease didn't take vacations or spend on anything that wasn't related to work, so they have money put aside. We'll just stay somewhere for a while, and -- Princess Luna suggested a settled zone we could try. Maybe we'll try living there, after I pass my classes and the therapist thinks we're okay. But before we do that... we were talking a lot over the last few days, and..."

The smile was truly beautiful.

"...we're going to Horaceland."

The sisters smiled, and the three simply stood there for a time.

"I know I have to go," Joyous finally said. "And..." Looking up again, awkwardness returned, "you did so much. For me at first, and then for the minotaurs and Doctor Bear. I thought... you were my last hope. My last chance for a life. But it's hard to believe in hope sometimes, after so much had already failed. But you... you helped me, you saved me, and I want to say thank you, I do. But it feels like -- words aren't enough. Like just saying 'thank you' could never be enough. So..." Hesitant, visibly summoning strength. "I was thinking about it, and..."

Her wings spread, flapped. She hovered in front of Celestia's snout, looking directly into purple eyes.

And then there was a kiss.

It was not a particularly skilled kiss. It wasn't quite a first kiss, but it wasn't all that far off either. There was a little too much bumping of nostrils, along with some rather awkward exhaling directly into the elder's snout. It was also rather brief, and might have been even quicker if not for the shock which had frozen the elder's hooves to the marble.

But there was a kiss and at the moment of that contact, a delicate scent reached Celestia. There was a little trill of excitement, and a moment of fantasy. But that was all.

Joyous flew backwards, smiled shyly, then turned towards Luna.

There was another kiss.

It was... not brief.

They were trotting down one of the longer hallways, heading towards the split point between Solar and Lunar wings. Celestia had taken the lead, mostly in the name of putting any amount of distance between herself and the smirking.

Unfortunately, it didn't do anything for the words.

"But you must not take it personally, sister."

She had been kicking back every possible reply for the last ten minutes. A few more wouldn't hurt, at least if she didn't count any possible damage from the inevitable slow grinding of her teeth.

"After all, there are simply some who are not particularly attracted to large mares."

Or the muscle tension.

"Very large mares."

Lots and lots of muscle tension.

"And I suppose there are those who do not enjoy shielding their eyes from the glare every time light touches their paramour's coat. Really, it is simply a matter of personal taste, combined with the natural desire to retain one's sight. I am certain you can understand that."

She thought about the minotaurs who had suffered hairline fractures. She was starting to understand how they must have felt.

"So simply because she spent at least three times the duration in kissing me than you... that is no reason to fret at all, Tia. Or be jealous in any way." Merrily, "Nothing to be concerned about. Just like the nothing which, rounding down somewhat, was the approximate time in which she stayed with you..."

Celestia maintained her silence all the way to the division point, then finally glanced back at her sister. "So what are you doing tonight?"

It produced a sigh. "I am still catching up. Our nation, to a large degree, went on without us. The paperwork did not. Yourself?"

"I'm just going to bed. It's been a long day." Her own piles could wait for sunrise, and would undoubtedly grow a few hoof-heights under encouraging Moon. "So just paperwork?"

"Yes," Luna nodded. "I am -- not exactly in a rush to seek out something real."

Celestia understood completely. "All right. I'll see you in the morning, then." And turned towards the Solar Wing, took the first hoofstep --

"Very well," Luna said. "Good night --"

The pause was deliberate. The pause was expertly crafted. An argument could be made for evil.

"-- Sunbutt."

And in the last moments before the chase began, Celestia considered the consequences of her upcoming actions. Thought about hooves pounding down the hallways, knocked-over artwork, the guaranteed panic of those staffers who could not see any degree of sibling squabble as anything less than a prelude to Nightmare. There would be shouts and screams and very likely several dunkings, accompanied by desperate attempts to keep Luna from getting at that one spot and winning what would inevitably turn into a full-fledged tickle war. It was possible that there would be damages and repairs costs added to gossip, oh, there was almost guaranteed to be gossip, but...

Celestia took a few careful, casual hoofsteps down the hallway. Getting a head start. And she rotated her ears back, all the better to listen for the gasp of outrage which would signal the start of the race. Because yes, there would be consequences, there always were, and it was impossible to predict what all of them might be. But there were many tasks which came with the thrones and not the least among them, certainly when practiced by Luna, was that which said the younger had the duty to take the elder down a few pegs every now and again. To remind her that no matter how much had happened over moons and years and centuries, she was simply a pony.

A duty which, as Luna oddly kept forgetting, went both ways.

She could feel the heat of her sister's smirk on her half-tangible tail. Risked one more step, and then one more...

"Good night, Crater-Ass."

That Certain Something

Her sister referred to it as 'non-binding arbitration'. Luna preferred to see it as 'being asked to think for ponies incapable of doing it for themselves' -- and after nearly eight hours of having to do just that, wished never to think about it again. But there were still ten minutes left in her session, ten minutes remaining in a night which seemed to have been caught within the solitary (and lost) unicorn spell ever known to slow the passage of time. Ten minutes before she could find a solitary, reinforced place to scream and if the resulting lightning woke up half of Canterlot a few minutes early, then it would give those citizens incentive to restrain the other half from ever trotting into her throne room again.

The process sounded so simple. At least once per moon during peacetime over the course of several centuries, Celestia threw open the doors to the heart of the Solar wing and welcomed ponies to directly approach her -- no matter what their reason for coming might be. Problems of the law were sometimes discussed. Spectacular new feats of magic had been revealed during those sessions, innovations unveiled for the first time in the hopes that the palace would somehow be able to fund further production and distribution. Celestia, in trying to talk Luna into starting her own sessions, had been (in retrospect) extremely careful about playing up the wonders to be found in those meetings with the public, the miracles which Luna would get to see first, the occasional bouts of silliness as comedians used the chance to premiere their acts, or simply citizens who had heard a joke which they felt the Diarchy had to hear and were for some reason willing to stand in a slowly-shifting line for up to eight hours just to tell it in person. Or there were ponies who made a mad dash for the throne itself in order to declare their undying love for the older Princess, a statement they generally finished from the bottom of a ponypile made up of extremely reactive Guards...

Yes, her sister certainly had stressed the entertainment value of the meet-and-greets, along with the need to gently talk ponies down while kindly advising them to seek romance in other places. That last was an art form in itself, and it still ended with too many ponies scraping their hooves against Solar marble all the way out of the castle wing, heads dipped and tails drooping as they contemplated a future in which their ruler simply didn't love them that way -- a despondency which generally lasted all the way to the nearest bar, where attentive, attractive, and attracted Guards just going off-shift would escort them in apologies for the flying tackle, with an offer to buy the first two rounds. Marriages had been started at the bottom of such ponypiles. Celestia had even warned Luna about the need to turn down any and all invitations to serve as bridesmaid, in part due to the hideous cost of any Princess-fitting dress and mostly because nopony should ever have to suffer through fifteen servings of overpriced crabgrass per year. Luna, appropriately bemused, had finally agreed to begin hosting her own sessions while resolving to attend at least the first crush-inspired nuptials.

Two minutes before Luna's first meet-and-greet had begun, Celestia casually mentioned the arbitrations. And fled.

As it turned out, most of the ponies in line approached in pairs. Duos which were barely speaking to each other. They mostly had Issues, although there were a few generational conflicts which had reached the point where the same old problems were dropped off every moon under the guise of recycled covers, thus creating Subscriptions. And none of those ponies had thought to truly talk things over with the other, or seek the neutral judgment of a small-claims court. No, the one thing those ponies could agree on was that only a Princess could help them now. And so they would stand in line (barely) together as the shuffle of ponies moved forward hoofstep by hoofstep until they finally won their chance to step behind closed doors and tell a Princess just what was so important that a trip to Canterlot had been the only possible way to resolve it.

Luna had seen no need to reschedule her own waking times in order to host a session, and so those ponies had waited their turn under Moon. Hours of being awake during the time they generally spent in the nightscape, a requirement which theoretically should have cut down on the number of ponies willing to go through the process and left the majority too exhausted to fight when they reached the end of it.

Both of the assumptions which Luna would have made had her sister seen fit to give her more than one hundred and twenty seconds worth of warning had been proven false. Ponies were often prone to a degree of groupthink -- Celestia called it one of the perils of being a herd species -- and where one had assumed I'll just go to the Lunar session: nopony else will stay up that late and it'll be a much shorter wait, not to mention giving me the chance for an extended time with the Princess with nopony behind me demanding that I clear out already, hundreds more had come to the same brilliant deduction. And as for running out of strength before running out of line --

"It's my tree, Princess!"

"Then if it's your tree, you should be able to control where it grows, shouldn't you? And keep it out of my yard!"

"I'm a unicorn! My magic doesn't work that way!"

"So? Then just use your field to break off any branches which go over the border! Or better yet, find somepony stronger to rip it out by the roots!"

"You want to knock my whole tree down to keep it from happening again! What's so important about the air on your side of the fence that it can't have a single leaf poke into it? Is your precious atmosphere sensitive? Does it bruise?"

"Your leaves go all over my grass every time the Running races by! I cultivate that grass! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get Saddle Arabian grass growing in our area, especially when you're a pegasus? If it wasn't for having Stonebender living on the other side of my house..."

"My tree drops leaves -- once a year -- on one day -- and your entire snack factory is ruined?"

"It's delicate!"

"It's like eating phosphorous."

"If you had any taste --"

"-- if you had any sense..."

-- no, running out of strength didn't seem to be happening at all, unless Luna counted herself. Not to mention the slow fraying of her patience, which had reached parchment-thinness after the first hour, rice paper during the fourth, and was now the only solid in the world freely permeable to air, which had the side effect of letting every last bit of irritating sound through.

"If you would both care to listen for a moment." Luna patiently began, feeling the white trying to crowd in at the edge of her eyes and forcing it back with the last act of will she still had strength for, "I believe I can --"

"You want me to use my field to take care of plants? Then I'll pull your entire garden up by the roots!"

"We'll see how well your precious tree does when it rains on your property every single day! And that's if the completely coincidental lightning doesn't get it first!"

"Jerk!"

"Bitch!"

-- actually, there were times when patience was distinctly overrated.

"ENOUGH!"

Both unicorn and pegasus froze. The Guards, who were used to it, quietly waited for the echoes of thunder to die away.

"And now that you are at least pretending I have your attention," Luna just barely managed not to grind out, "I believe the reason for spending nearly eight hours in line was so that you could hear my opinion on the matter?" An opinion at least one of them was guaranteed to resent. "This session of the Night Open Palace is nearly concluded. I would prefer to deliver my thoughts before the Moon is lowered." And before the oddly pleasing vision of having those two under it --

-- yes, things had definitely been going on for too long.

"Princess," the unicorn tree-owner shakily said, "I thought that if you just heard what he was threatening to do --"

"-- and if you could see how unreasonable she's being!" the pegasus grass-gourmand cut in. "You can see what she's like! Everypony can!"

Luna stamped her left front hoof against the silver at the base of her throne, exactly once.

The silver conducted the sound. The onyx magnified it. Black opals flashed internal sparks.

Both ponies sat down. It was that or let all four legs go out from under them.

"My opinion," Luna began, "is this."

In my opinion, when I get out of here, I'm going to find Celestia and strangle her. Using her own mane. Only somepony might take that the wrong way, so I should simply wait until she's in the middle of her bath and then dunk her. Repeatedly. While going after that one spot just behind her right shoulder. She hates it when somepony tickles her in that spot. She's been working on an anti-tickling spell for more than a thousand years and hasn't gotten one right yet. So I'm going to dunk and tickle her until she screams for mercy. Only somepony might take that the wrong way, so I'll have to soundproof the area first. Also, since I get up before she goes to bed, I will use the opportunity to short-sheet her. Every night for the rest of her life. And after that, I'm going to get serious.

Luna looked at the unicorn mare. "You," she said. "Trim the tree." Turned to the pegasus stallion. "You. Move the grass patch to another part of your yard and on the single day of the Running, place a temporary tarpaulin roof over it, since your neighbor has no more ability to control where the leaves from the branches over her own property might blow than she has to initially determine where those branches grow in the first place." Both at once. "This is my suggestion, and as we are not in a formal court session, it is in no way binding. Neither of you has to do anything I have suggested. And the fact that I may be visiting your homes next moon in order to see whether that suggestion was taken to heart should in no way influence your personal and individual decisions."

They stared at her. Splayed tails vibrated.

"Leave," Luna non-bindingly opinionated, and the neighbors fled. Their exiting expressions stated she'd matched her high for the night: they both resented her opinion. And they would likely go along with it anyway -- mentally taking out all their petty frustrations on her instead of each other.

Nightwatch, one of the first hires among her Guards, looked up at her with open pity. "Princess," she wearily said, "you look like you've just been in the center of a bunny stampede. Thousands of little kicks which don't do much of anything individually, but when you put them all together..."

Luna sighed. "The observation is -- accurate. How many minutes more?"

"Eight," Nightwatch told her. "Unless -- actually, now that I'm thinking about it, that clock does seem a little slow -- yes, Princess, I'm completely certain that it's actually eight minutes later than we thought it was and everypony in line who feels we're still open just happens to be mistaken. I'll go inform them immediately."

Luna managed a tiny smile. "Nightwatch, I appreciate your willingness to fabricate on my behalf, but I can stand one more. Or two. Or perhaps even having an entire one of the desert settlements crowd in so they can argue about how having the sand blow across their homes is doing horrible things to the paint and demand the pegasi ensure wind never comes from that direction again..."

"Look down." It wasn't an order. Guards didn't give orders to their Princesses. But as suggestions went, it was about as strong as they came.

Luna looked. The onyx around her left front hoof was cracked. Wisps of vapor drifted up from the ice which coated the floor in a full body length's worth of radius.

"...it is eight minutes later than we had believed," Luna concluded. "Give those at the front of the line access chits and tell them I will see them tomorrow at moonrise. Should they require a place to stay in the city until then, grant them one along with Royal Vouchers for their food and lost wages. And give me a few minutes to myself, all of you? I simply need to -- reflect for a moment."

Nightwatch smiled and headed for the closed doors which granted relative privacy for each personal session so she could tell however many ponies still awaited the attention of the Lunar Throne that said attention was closed for what little remained of the night. The other three Guards followed her, and the time it took for them to pass through the briefly-open doors was more than enough for Luna to gauge the length of the line. Another forty ponies, all of whom seemed to either completely believe in her ability to get through everypony ahead of them in that suddenly-extinct eight minutes or who simply had even less of a true idea regarding the time than Nightwatch did.

The doors shut. The first sound of protest made it through just in time.

Luna sighed and curled up on her throne, plush dark cushions offering support without comfort.

...and after the short-sheeting, I'm going to speak to Anise. She was my head chef first: she'll listen to me. I suspect the Solar kitchen is about to have a run of traditional rock farmer dishes. The less flavor, the better. Does the kitchen have sufficient stock of grated shale? Then I'll have to do something about the perfuming of Tia's bath. It's more than past time for a change from sumac. Something she hasn't had before. Say, corpse flower.

There were times when Equestria's citizens truly needed their Diarchy, when the words from both thrones inspired and solved. Over the last call-it-eight-hours, none of those times had occurred. Ponies had approached her with problems which were petty and stupid and could have been resolved with their own efforts within mere seconds if any of them had cared to actually speak with the other. A nearly full night of being reminded just how self-blinding ordinary citizens could be, and that wasn't even figuring for the four she'd temporarily wrapped in shadow just to shut them up long enough for her to get a word in.

Luna knew Celestia hadn't foisted the worst cases off to the night shift: her sister undoubtedly dealt with just as many idiots during most of her sessions, and some of the problems were likely even more petty than what Luna had just repeatedly encountered. But a little warning would have been welcome: surely Luna wouldn't have postponed the first of the open sessions, not for more than a moon or six. And...

...I didn't hear or solve one actual problem all night. Just petty grievances which anypony with common sense could have dealt with themselves. And nearly half of them left feeling so good that I'd agreed with them, most of the rest resented my not taking their side and with those where I forged a third path, everypony wished they'd waited for the day...

I don't feel like I did anything real.

The doors opened.

"Princess?"

The doors closed.

The voice was that of a mare. It was shy, gentle, had a wonderful tone to it, one which completely captured Luna's attention in a split-second and made her want to hear more of it. It was also unfamiliar. And the sounds of hoofsteps inching forward into the Lunar throne room numbered a mere four: no Guard had come in with her...

Luna sat up straight, her horn's corona surging to a full primary as she got ready to defend herself --

-- from a mass of sackcloth.

Literal sackcloth draped the mare's body: faded black ink suggested the dirty brown near-shapeless non-garment had once held oranges, although the scent stated it had later found a second career in hauling manure. Two bulges at what was probably the sides indicated either wings or a pair of oddly-worn saddlebags. There was just barely enough form within the bulges of stinking fabric to indicate that there was a single pony within, that wonderful voice had told Luna said pony was a mare -- but not a single detail of the stranger's body was visible.

Still, Luna was sure she'd never seen sackcloth worn so well in her life. And the smell could be ignored, anything could be ignored if it meant hearing more of --

-- I have a complete stranger in my throne room and the Guards are absent.

The sackcloth had pulled back slightly, with what was probably hindquarters pressed against the closed doors. Retreating from the flaring of Luna's horn.

"Your name," Luna tensely stated, and hoped to hear the answer in the most drawn-out of ways.

Unfortunately, once she allowed for the single stammer, it didn't happen. "Joy -- Joyous..."

"How did you get in here?" More words would have to come from that.

"I -- asked the Guards if I could -- have the last few minutes of the open session. They said it was okay if I just -- met them later at the bar..."

She meets them later? But she's here for me!

Luna blinked. Focused. "They allowed you in alone?" Words would have to be said, at least after all the possible ones had been wrung out of this meeting.

"...I asked nicely..." A long, sad sigh. It was a waft of a sigh, a sound which made Luna want to fly down from the throne and find out just what was wrong, fix it quickly in a way which would last forever and then get to the bar. "And I -- needed to be alone with you."

Her heart seemed to be beating faster than usual. Luna's wings were quivering at her sides. "Alone... because?" A thousand possibilities crowded into her mind, too many for casual examination and all sharing a single definition.

"I -- can't discuss my problem with other ponies around. I thought if we were alone -- it would be my best chance..."

How many ponies have thrown themselves at the base of the Solar throne and professed their love to Tia? How many truly meant it? How many sounded like this?

But...

...Luna regarded the mass of sackcloth, quite unable to pick up the manure scent any more. What was under there? Surely no pony would be so hideous as to find need for total concealment. And if there were weapons beneath, if this was somehow an assassin who had tricked the Guards into giving her private access, with the most dulcet of voices as her primary armament...

...but what a way to...

...focus! She spoke! Told me she was here! What assassin would be stupid enough to give themselves away? No, this is simply a pony. One who wishes my help. Mine. A pony with the most wonderful voice, one I want to...

"Remove the sackcloth."

"I'd rather --"

"-- this is an order, citizen." Because I have to see... "Remove it -- or yourself." Which was a bluff, she would never allow Joyous to --

-- the sack came off the front half of the pony's body, and the surrounding onyx took on highlights of blue.

A pegasus -- and a metallic. With the crystal ponies recently returned, metallic-hued coats were the rarest type known to exist. Less than one in every five thousand ponies was a metallic: the trait ran in families, but didn't always surface. Some ponies found themselves more attracted to that scarcity than anything else and spent their dating years seeking a pony who would fit their tastes -- a quest which generally either came up empty or into direct conflict with the hundreds of other ponies who'd had the exact same thought. Magazines existed which featured metallics and nothing else, although most of the pictures were faked. Luna had never really seen the appeal herself, but...

This one was a dark blue, a near-match for Luna's eyes, but reflective in that way which only metallics achieved: not sparkling, but simply bright and beautiful. An obsidian mane, the most common shade for a metallic to possess -- as common as anything associated with such a rarity could be. Eyes of brilliant yellow, as if Sun had found an early way into the last moments of night.

...she'd never seen the appeal until now.

Fine features. Wonderfully proportioned forelegs. A snout she suddenly realized was perfect and no other snout in the world would ever come close. The mane had been pressed down by the sackcloth, but what was wrong with that just-tumbled-out-of-bed look? Very large wings, pressed tightly against her sides. Slightly full in the shoulders, with a wide rib cage: an endurance flier. Lots of endurance...

Luna swallowed.

"Thank you," she said. "And now -- your problem?"

Joyous took a deep breath. Luna watched that rib cage flex. "It's my mark," she sadly said. "Or -- my talent."

Which (very) temporarily brought Luna into full focus. "You are adult," she noted. At most four years removed from the completion of school. "Your mark has yet to appear?" For the back half of that beautiful form was still covered in sackcloth, and for any pony to still not have gone through manifest at Joyous' age... yes, that was a problem, and potentially a real one, a problem which Luna would strive for hours to solve, days, weeks, moons, all done in privacy with Joyous so that they could work on the problem together...

Miserably, "No -- it's present." There was an unspoken 'still' within the last word.

An ugly mark? Surely not... "Are you hiding it? Joyous --" should she have used a 'miss' there? Was she being too informal? No, she was a Princess and certain benefits had to come with the title, or at least they had better starting right now. "-- show me."

"I..."

Luna had never heard her own voice so soft, was surprised she had been able to hear it at all. "Please?"

Reluctantly, the pegasus wriggled her hindquarters, a process which had Luna's total attention and kept her from seeing the expression which suggested Joyous was trying to remove her own skin. The sack slid off.

And there was the mark, distinct, fully visible, and not at all ugly. But it was -- unusual. Luna had never seen one like it. Joyous' flank was bearing an icon of a pony's rump. A full rump sporting a simply gorgeous tail to match Joyous' own wide spread (a tail nearly as full as Fluttershy's, but higher off the floor), both also metallic, but red and white so as to be better set off against the blue coat. A rump which didn't move in any way, as no mark was ever animated -- but seemed to suggest that if the viewer watched long enough, the impossible just might come true, and the theoretical wriggle of that backside...

...when did I fly down from the throne?

But she had. Luna was within a mere two body lengths of Joyous, an endless two body lengths which would still be so easy to cross. She wanted to inspect the mark. In private. By touch. Long, careful nuzzles with her muzzle. Which would be followed in time by questions about the talent. About the problem, the problem Luna would spend the rest of her existence working to solve just as soon as she smiled at Joyous and told her just how very special she was to Luna as a citizen of Equestria and a pony who needed her help, a pegasus who looked like nopony she'd ever seen and there was a scent, something which the sackcloth had tried to hide, something Luna couldn't identify and didn't want to because as long as she didn't know what it was, she could spend her life in breathing the delicate aroma in and pretending she was still working on figuring it out --

She took a step forward. Her eyes were half-closed. Nostrils slightly flared so as to catch more of that wonderful scent. Heart pounding...

"STOP!"

Luna jumped. A full body length straight back, her wings spreading to steady her landing. And then she found herself stepping forward again, slowly, shyly, needing to know what she'd done wrong...

...and she realized Joyous was shaking. That the metallic coat had the first signs of sweat appearing within it. Of froth. The beautiful body had shrunken in on itself, curled up in a way not even Fluttershy could achieve, retreated in something which could only be seen as terror.

She was afraid. Of Luna. Or of...

"Please," the pegasus whimpered. "Please, think..."

It seemed to be very cold in the Lunar throne room. Too cold. There was vapor everywhere --

-- she'd iced most of the floor, and didn't remember having done it. Nearly all of it, going up to her throne -- but with the cushions free of it, and the floor around herself and Joyous still clear. But it was cold and getting colder, Luna had done it without meaning to because

if it's cold, she'll be looking for warmth and that sackcloth won't be it, I'll destroy the thing and she'll have to cuddle up against me to get warm, I'll spread a wing over her and tuck her in close, I'll

The dark blue corona around Luna's horn, that full primary threatening to go double, shot through with stars, flared again --

-- and her own wings were coated in ice.

She was resistant to cold -- almost immune, in the same way her sister could casually operate in most extremes of heat: one of the minor gifts granted by their respective marks and the ties they showed. But that was with normal cold. This was ice created by the same magic which allowed her to ignore the ordinary levels -- magic which got around that resistance and sent bolts of chill directly into her bones.

Luna yelped. Jumped backwards again. Slipped on the ice.

Went down.

When the twisting, spiraling skid finally came to a stop, her own rump was pressed against the base of her throne. She was shivering, the ice coating her feathers refusing to break. She would not let it break. She'd just barely managed to find herself long enough to pull off the magic once...

She could have felt humiliated, sprawled out on the ice like a filly who'd just failed her first attempt at ice-skating. Stupid for looking so idiotic in front of Joyous. And later on, she probably would. But as long as the coating was intact... unless her own body heat started steaming it off...

"Your talent," she forced herself to begin, and was glad for the tremble of cold in her voice, for it was no longer a tremor of something else, "is sex appeal."

Joyous trembled, and Luna fought the urge to warm her.

"Yes," breathed the most beautiful pegasus Luna had ever seen. "And I want it gone. I want you -- to destroy my mark. To take my talent away forever. To kill my magic. Please...."

Luna blinked.

And for a long time, as she listened to the pegasus' story, she could do almost nothing else.

Equine Sexual Response

"...well -- no," Vanilla Bear just barely managed to say: the thin body was trembling somewhat, although any vibration which managed to reach the mane was instantly negated. "I -- Princesses, I -- don't think that's entirely right..."

Chocolate Bear pressed his own lightly-sweating, fast-retreating body into a far corner of the office, ignoring the scale model of a pegasus skeleton which had already been taking up most of it. Ivory-molded false wingbones rattled against the walls and made one of the three nearby anatomical charts shudder.

The siblings stared at them.

They had just finished telling the doctors -- well, not quite everything. Everything they feared, but not the ultimate consequences of it. But what they felt might be happening, to them and everypony Joyous and the Releases had come into contact with... that had been cited, at length. And now the diagnostician was directly telling them that they had something wrong, with the surgeon shakily nodding in the background as the last bit of mane stubble on that head threatened to fall out.

It would have been welcome news, if it had been coming from just about any other source. But from these two, who had provided nothing but failed test after failed test, with the occasional break for total disbelief in their diplomas...

"Explain," Luna tightly ordered them, and Celestia did nothing more than nod.

Vanilla swayed slightly. That didn't reach the mane either.

"In the blood," he shakily went on. "That's still possible. Especially with their being metallics. It's always just been seen as a fur trait, one which barely ever emerges. Metallic ponies are so rare... When Joyous told me that both her parents had the trait, we started researching as much as possible, trying to find out if two metallics had ever produced a foal before this, with or without The Most Special Spell. We -- haven't gotten very far. The census data doesn't exactly ask ponies to check off a box for it and neither do marriage certificate applications, so we got stuck with less reliable sources, like... um..."

"You know most of the stories in those magazines are made up," a perspiring Chocolate Bear interjected.

"I do now." The skinny stallion forced a breath. "But that still begs the question of why we haven't seen it in the rest of the population. It's a tiny sample size, but... there are metallics out there. I dated one for a while."

"You dated one of everything for a while," Chocolate pointed out.

"It's coming in handy now, isn't it? And her mark was for learning. She could memorize facts faster than anypony else. It didn't help her when it came to learning about patient interaction, but she knew all the wrong words to bombard them with. But her fur didn't mean she spent every non-reading moment of her life trying to find more books. So it's not universal, and..." This breath was a little deeper. "Princess, it's still possible that it's something which would turn up in the blood of metallics only, without being universal within them. We've been thinking that way for some time now, trying to come up with palliatives that might help her. There can be more testing there --"

Luna snorted, and made no effort to keep the derisiveness out of it. Eight knees bent.

"-- but... as for it being contagious... Princess, there are diseases which can spread just from being in the same room with an affected pony. We think things are -- carried on the air. That when somepony sneezes, more than just mucus flies out. But -- think about all the places Joyous and her family have been. How many years it's been since the first signs of illness, and all the myriad talents they would have sent out of control. The early stages... yes, some of that would look like falling. But if you assume that Joyous' parents infected both her and other ponies, somepony would have reached the stage she's at by now. There are talents where that could still appear to be an extreme case of falling into the mark -- but everypony? We would have noticed, and somepony like her parents..."

He looked to his partner, and the nature of the glance was familiar to both siblings.

"It comes down to this, Princesses," Chocolate Bear gamely took over. "The early stages would be able to hide in the population, masked under that false diagnosis. The latter ones can't, especially once the magic starts to go out of control. If this could be transmitted from pony to pony simply by sharing a room, there would have been cases all over the continent. Hundreds of ponies, possibly thousands or more, would have reached that stage where they couldn't pass as the fallen any longer. Every doctor in Equestria would be searching for a cure. And we heard about this -- on the day your staffs came to us. Unless it has an extremely limited range of ponies it can infect -- say, caught only by metallics -- it can't be airborne."

Celestia looked at Luna. An identical gaze came back the other way. Neither was willing to let themselves feel the hope.

"But -- there are other ways diseases can spread," Vanilla rushed on, the words coming faster than the sweat, which was starting to take some real work.

"Yes," Chocolate agreed, as the rich brown coat showed the first signs of froth.

"Ways we... would have to ask about..." Vanilla started to stammer. "We don't... we d-don't have any c-choice..."

Luna's eyes narrowed. Vanilla's trembling began to blur his garment around the edges.

"You need to ask us something."

A bare nod.

"And what would that be?"

The doctors looked at each other again. Last wills and testaments traveled across the gap, along with a final farewell and mutual apology for having gotten the other dragged into this.

"Have..." and it was all Vanilla could manage.

"...either of you..." Chocolate got out, and then stopped.

"What?" Celestia tightly encouraged, although the not-even-remotely hidden expression told Luna that her sibling at least had a rather good idea of the question. "What do you need to know about either of us potentially having done?"

Chocolate forced himself out of the corner, trotted slowly to his partner's side. Both took what they saw as their final breath, and let the chorused words driven into the mutual exhalation carry their lives away.

"Have either of you had sex with her?"

Several things happened at once.

There were twin rumbles of thunder, both coming from just outside the office. A spike of heat rose from Celestia's skin, while a plummet of chill emanated from Luna's. The two combined with the increased moisture in the air, and fog began to swirl outwards from the siblings. Four thermometers rather passively exploded.

"Do you know," Luna softly said, "how many ponies have dared to inquire about the status or presence of others in my bed? How many felt they had a right? A duty to know? Not even those of Murdocks' will inquire so openly, for they fear what might follow, no matter how desperately they wish to have the truth of the matter in the hopes that it will be interesting enough to save them the effort of recycling rumors for a day. What number would you guess at, Doctors?"

They pressed tightly against each other, vibrating at the exact same rate.

"Luna --" the elder tried.

"You are thinking it as well, sister," Luna continued, with the fog at knee-level (hers, not theirs) and rising. "They seek the same information about you, and have for a much longer time. I am simply the one expressing the thought, while your reaction remains somewhat more -- thermal. It is a question virtually none would dare to ask, Doctors, no matter what the circumstances, in spite of all true need, so many would choose to keep their silence --"

She sighed.

They stared at her. It was the only response they had remaining.

"-- and so I thank you for asking it now, when it is truly necessary to know." And another, deeper sigh. "We have not been with each other. I have been in brief physical contact: I escorted her through the between more than once, and teleporting with another is easier when both parties are touching. But as for sex... we have not."

The stare continued. But the vibration began to slow, even as the fog started to dissipate.

"Has there been -- any exchange of fluids?" Vanilla asked, and his own eyes widened in shock at having lived long enough for new words.

"Your definition?"

"Both of you with cuts, blood to blood contact," Chocolate provided. "Her tears falling into such a cut, or just into your eyes. A -- kiss, with saliva interaction..."

"No," Luna said. "None of that."

Celestia nodded. "The same, Doctors. And I haven't even teleported with her."

Slowly, the stallions moved away from each other. One full hoofwidth.

"Then... it's not impossible that you could have contracted any possible disease, Princesses," Vanilla said. "Because... even if other ponies..." He swallowed. "...but for right now, let's just say the odds are very long."

"We appreciate what you've told us," Chocolate continued. "It's something we'll have to -- watch for, and --" A deeper gulp, which mostly brought down the remaining mist in the air. "-- we can talk about it in a little while. But that's not why we called you in, and... maybe we'd better get to that. Because you should know what we did find."

"It's not a cause," Vanilla went on. "And I wish it was a cure. But... it might be a step, at least if we can't find any other way..."

The siblings looked from one stallion to the other, brown to white and back.

"One of your tests," Luna risked, "has borne results?"

The Doctors Bear nodded.

"Which?"

The stallions glanced at each other again, and this too was familiar.

"We know," they said together, "how her talent works."

They were all standing in front of what was, for them, glass: two medical practitioners, two sisters. From the other side -- it would be a mirror, and the old stallion confined to the sickbed on the other side would see nothing more than his reflection, if he ever could have raised his head that high. He breathed. He blinked. He looked as if both activities required all the strength he had left to give.

"Who is he?" Celestia gently asked.

"A friend," Chocolate sadly stated. With regret, "Although... we didn't figure that out for a while."

"And why is he here?" Luna more directly inquired.

"Because it's easiest to show this to you, and with a fresh subject for the test," Vanilla half-whispered.

"There are already enough ponies involved in this," Luna insisted. "More than sufficient. Unless you feel your own background investigations are somehow up to the level conducted by our staffs, I am not particularly enamored of expanding the conspiracy yet again --"

"-- he's dying."

Celestia looked at Vanilla. His eyes were closed, and the white head had dipped under the weight of something much heavier than the ridiculous mane.

"Two days," Chocolate quietly said. "Everything we can do, every drug, every spell... two days."

Luna's eyes slowly shut, opened again.

"That's one of the things about being a doctor," Vanilla went on, his voice forced into neutrality. "You get exposed to a lot of horse apples. When you're young, you have a better chance to fight them off. At his age... even after he retired, he kept dropping in at the hospital, just to see what was going on. To find out if there was anything else he could do. And in time... two days, Princesses. More likely one, now, after he asked us to move him here and make it easier for you. And... he loved the mares, all his life, especially younger ones, and this thing that's killing him took that from him along with everything else, and..."

"When we figured out what was happening, and that we needed a fresh test subject, we went to him," Chocolate told them. "And he said he would give up the last insensate hours he had left if it meant feeling something again."

Celestia forced her own eyes open.

"I'm sorry," she told them. Luna silently nodded.

"You didn't know," Vanilla passively replied, still watching the glass.

"And -- the restraint?" Celestia asked, nodding to the cone of thick metal which had been secured over the dying stallion's horn. "Is the disease something which affects his own magic?"

"Oh, his field's fine," Chocolate said. "He's our friend, Princess, or was at the end. And that's why we know not to trust him too far. Are you ready?"

The sisters looked through the glass, at the airtight door on the left. The one with a recently-teleported Joyous waiting behind it. Both eventually nodded, and the reluctance in each movement was perfectly visible to the other.

Vanilla's field exerted, and light blue coated the window, shimmered, faded out. "Filter," he said. "So you can see it. It'll last long enough. Chocolate, go let her in?" The bulkier stallion nodded, trotted out of the observation room. "He'll tell her to enter on the count of twenty -- long enough for him to get back here. And then... you'll see it happen."

"We will see her talent," Luna said.

"Yes."

"We've checked ourselves for magic," Celestia told the physician. "If that working is supposed to show us --"

"It will and it won't," the doctor said. "Because it is magic -- and it isn't."

They both blinked at him.

"Explain," Luna ordered, and not for the first time.

And just as with all the others, Vanilla Bear ignored her. "You have to see it, Princess. You might not even believe it if you didn't see it in action. Just -- wait..."

Luna's right forehoof scraped at the overly-clean floor. He ignored that too. And they waited until the surgeon returned, and then --

-- the door opened. Joyous entered. The old stallion forced his head up, just a little.

"Now," Chocolate whispered.

And it took a moment for Celestia to see it, for she was looking in the wrong place. At the old stallion. And even then, she thought it was a distortion created by the spell, or more likely a flaw in the glass itself, that dim waft of copper mist which seemed to be rising from the stallion's skin...

Luna gasped.

"What -- what is happening?"

Celestia wrenched her head to the left --

-- Joyous was just beginning her approach of the sickbed, one trembling hoofstep at a time. The cloud was beating her to it.

Color swirled about Joyous' coat, pink and purple and fuchsia and shades which approached those only perceived through pegasus sight. Those swirls were quickly filling the room, and the forward-reaching tendrils were already at the sickbed. And one curl of vapor surrounded the faint copper, encased it, began to carry it back...

"I wonder," Vanilla said, "if either of you has ever heard of pheromones?"

A pair of mare jaws very nearly dropped open.

The enclosed copper reached Joyous' coat. And a single heartbeat after it touched, the swirls coming off her began to change, all the new emanations shifting into bright silver, rapidly flowing back to the stallion. Those new mists touched him -- and the copper strengthened, became bright and beautiful as his head came all the way up, as he began to talk...

"Everything that lives," Chocolate softly lectured, "gives off scent. And those scents... can trigger responses. Many ponies will instinctively tense at the smell of fresh blood. Some flee. But it's more than that. We give off scents when we're afraid. There's a subtle one for sorrow, barely detectable through anything we have to use."

"And for everything that lives," Vanilla gently taught, "there is a scent which triggers sexual interest. Arousal. Which lets us know there is somepony interested in us, and that interest can be returned..."

Silver and copper, swirling, never quite melding, painting the air in transparent metal as the stallion's eyes grew bright...

"You... you said you took a sample of her smell..." Luna forced out. "I believed... you had been talking about horse apples, I did not see what purpose capturing a portion of air could possibly serve..."

"We try things," Vanilla quietly responded.

"Even crazy things," Chocolate carefully expanded.

"Because sometimes..."

"...crazy is all that's left."

Behind the glass, mare and stallion talked. He said something which almost made her giggle.

"We also tied his hind legs to the bed frame," Vanilla told the sisters. "Joyous is safe."

They all watched the mists. The color interactions were... almost beautiful.

"You said it was magic," Celestia breathed, "and not magic... Doctors, how is that possible?"

"The process by which her body -- samples the other pheromones, determines the appropriate scent to send back, and generates it -- at least some of that is magic, especially in the gathering process," Chocolate answered. "I can't say for certain without more detailed spells plus some possible exploratory surgery which I don't want to do, but I'm guessing there's some very interesting things going on within her skin, and one of the tests suggested an unusual level of activity in her liver. But once the scent is created -- it's just a normal chemical. The exact chemical it takes to trigger arousal in the receiving party -- with nothing magic about it at all."

"We should explain -- it's only partially triggered by smell," Vanilla said. "There's a skin contact element present as well. But once the chemical is in the receiving body... it stays there for a while. And keeps the triggers active. But... it does break down. It took longer than we ever would have believed, but eventually, that mist will fade. The air becomes a little -- stale. And once that happens... the effect on the receiving body should start to wear off."

Both sisters turned away from the freeform painting in progress, stared at the doctors.

"It's not permanent," Celestia not-quite-asked.

"We think... at her current strength, approximately two weeks after an exposure, presuming no new encounters," Chocolate said. "But it's guesswork. We need to pin down more of the variables. Time spent in her presence, body mass, air circulation... Somepony around her all the time would be continually affected, so in that sense... well, it would never have the chance to fade. But without that... affected ponies, and everyone else, should return to normal."

"Charcoal filters absorb it," Vanilla continued, "or at least do for what she's produced so far." He nodded to a little disc hung on the far right wall of that inner room, which was glowing with a soft silver, then turned to look at the sisters. "I'm sorry to say we can't get an air purification spell to remove or block it yet, because they're all natural substances. But if somepony who was more -- skilled at that... kind of research... worked on it..."

He stopped talking. His head did not tilt up and to the right, for the shock had left no room for fantasies of any kind, let alone words. He was silent and still as he and his partner both tried to reconcile the sight in front of them, something which could not be happening...

Luna. Forelegs bent. Head and wings dipped.

Curtsying.

"You are... competent," she said, and each word pinned itself to a stallion chest. "I apologize, Doctors Bear. I had thought... something lesser of you. And -- I was wrong. So I apologize, and..." Her head came up. "...I will trust you somewhat more in the future."

"You asked the next question," Celestia breathed, letting the wonder openly flow forth as she dropped into a matching pose. "You asked how her talent worked, on that very first day..."

The stallions had no words. They simply stood there, and let each support the other in the face of the impossible.

For the sisters, that too was familiar.

They were back in the main office. Joyous had been sent to a private room, with the old stallion lapsed into a smiling dream which Luna had no intention of intruding on, for last moments should be private, and there were far worse things to carry as last thoughts before the final journey.

"What's your next step?" Celestia asked the Doctors Bear.

"We have a stopgap measure we want to try," Vanilla replied. "Something physical. It's not a cure of any kind for her, and it won't help her parents in any way. But it may give her a little more freedom of movement."

"We do need to see her parents," Chocolate added. "Immediately. Because now that we know they have the same condition... whether it's in the blood or a disease, we have two more ponies we can test, looking for common factors."

"But if it was something from outside," Vanilla said, "a disease or infection... we need to track everywhere they've been. Every last wild zone, and possibly every location within it. Starting from the first time Joyous can remember them being neglectful, then working backwards."

"Your reasoning?" Luna asked, with just the faintest touch of deference.

Vanilla took a slow breath. "Because... if it's a disease, then it's a disease of marks," he said. "If it infected somepony too young to have gone through manifest... it might just lie dormant in the body, waiting for their magic to become active. So it's possible that her parents were infected first and then gave it to her: there are conditions where just kissing a cut to make it better could do it. Or all three could have been exposed at the same time -- but Joyous couldn't be visibly affected yet..." His gaze slowly tilted up to Celestia's face -- then down and across to Luna's. "...Princesses?"

"So we have another option," Celestia smiled.

"Yes." It was more true (if dark) mirth than Luna had felt in days. "So. Discord -- or the Crusaders?"

"Stick with Discord," the elder solemnly suggested.

"Agreed. Not only might the trio manifest in time despite their own best efforts, but better the chaos we know..."

The doctors, who had not been provided with that part of the discussion, were staring at them.

"It's a private joke," Celestia smiled. "And should probably remain so. Go on, Doctors."

Chocolate forced a nod. "Our idea is that the first bits of neglect would have come when the disease started to take hold. Backtrack that... and it narrows down the places they could have contracted this. If we're very lucky, it could potentially give us an exact time and location... but that's more luck than most doctors ever receive."

"And once we know where they were," Vanilla continued, "we'll have a better idea of what they could have been exposed to."

"Proceed, Doctors," Luna said. "We can bring you her parents. We will simply tell them that as part of the terms for their hiring, we will require a complete list of their previous employers, along with a full medical history, should that be of any assistance. That should still fall within the purview of things they are willing to hear, at least short-term."

Vanilla nodded -- then took several slow breaths. "Princesses... how much of this does she know?"

Celestia blinked. "Joyous?" Both stallions nodded. "Know -- about what?"

"At the absolute minimum, that her parents have been found," Chocolate answered. "That it... wasn't their fault. I would understand if you hadn't told her about your -- other concerns. Emotionally, she's still very fragile, and... it's not a shock I want her subjected to yet. But for her parents... she has to know."

"They were just brought in," Celestia replied. "And after that, there were -- other concerns..."

"She does not know they are in Canterlot," Luna stated.

"She has to," Vanilla told them.

They had no answer.

"But first... there's..." The diagnostician was starting to sweat again. "...something else. Something... necessary. And..."

Luna sighed. "Doctors... I would hope that our time spent together has shown you that we will understand when somepony has to do the needful. There is a question you are uncomfortable with asking -- still. Let the words emerge."

"We're all trying to do our best to help her," Celestia reminded them. "If there's a question we can answer which might help... please, let us hear it. You can't do much more damage to any egos we might have left."

Chocolate looked to Vanilla, and the same came back the other way.

"We were... talking," the surgeon said. "While the testing room was being cleared."

"About your concerns. If it's a disease. And communicable," Vanilla managed.

"We have reason to believe... it doesn't transmit easily to a normal pony body. Not through the air, at least, and that proof is in the lack of other cases, but..."

"...that's a normal pony body..."

They felt it coming, elder and younger. They could see the first hooves stepping onto the road, and once the path had been set, there was seldom any means of leaving it. Not until the final conclusion had been reached. For they had, in essence, sought out ponies who could think a different way, and then given those ponies permission to think of anything they could...

"...and you two..." Chocolate forced out.

"...aren't... normal ponies," Vanilla just barely finished.

They waited. There was nothing they could do but wait.

"You might be immune to things earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns suffer from," Chocolate shakily said. "You also might be -- susceptible to things all three races would ignore. We don't know. We have no way of knowing, and..." He turned to his partner.

"...we need your medical history," Vanilla told them, "All of it... and -- more than that. We need to start testing you immediately, to see if it's possible that you've been infected when nopony else has. But... that's still not everything..."

And now they took over for each other in turn, for neither had the strength for the full request.

"We need..."

"....every bit of data..."

"...on the medical history..."

"...of your species."

Halfway down the trail now. And they had to answer. For the sake of the world, the words had to come out...

"There is... no medical data," Celestia whispered. "Not for us."

"There were... some tests, early on," Luna softly added. "Basic ones, and a very few which were more -- advanced, at least for their time. But the results of those tests were... destroyed. If any portion of the information gathered survives in the modern age, it is because we missed a place where it was hidden. We could search now... but the chances of our finding anything in time, let alone there being anything to find at all..."

The doctors were staring at them again, and forms both thin and muscular had begun to assume the posture of trembling question marks.

"But... your race," Vanilla said. "I... know it's just the three of you... in the present, but somepony in the past must have done something, the doctors among your own species..."

Three-quarters of the way there, and four eyes closed, but only for a moment. Elder and younger looked to each other, and found the strength.

Together, each syllable weighted with centuries, "There is no alicorn race."

And the stallions didn't understand.

"Well... no..." Chocolate fearfully ventured. "Not any more. Not with just three left, and two related..."

"But in the Discordian Era..." Vanilla tried. "Didn't anything survive? Even a single scroll?"

"There never was an alicorn race," Luna quietly offered. "At least to our knowledge. We searched. For a very long time. Perhaps... before Discord. That might have been possible. But if so, all evidence was lost."

The finish was in sight now. The cliff.

The former roommates took two mutual hoofsteps back. Necks twisted. They whispered to each other for nearly a minute, then came forward again.

"We heard once," Chocolate said, "that on the first Hearth's Warning Eve... two of the windigos in the cave... didn't get hurt by the Surge of love, but absorbed it. And when they had the light of all that love inside them, with a little from all three major races, it transformed them, and..."

They shook their heads.

"Um..." Vanilla started -- then glared at his partner. "You're really going to make me be the one who says this, aren't you?"

"You're the one who guessed the wrong number!"

"Who would have ever guessed a negative?"

"You lost! Just like you lose every rounders game we ever play! Deal with it!"

"Fine!" And back to the sisters. "It's said..." the froth all seemed to come at once "... that if... three ponies, a pegasus, an earth pony, and a unicorn are all... having sex together, and if they sort of... all reach the... the... at the exact same split second..."

Luna blinked. "That is a new one."

"I've heard it twice," Celestia sighed. "From a great distance, obviously."

"Did you laugh?"

"Not at the time." She faced the doctors. "No."

The last hoofsteps were always the hardest.

"The zebras claim there's a seashell..." Chocolate tried.

"No," Luna said. "And they are still going on about that seashell? I suppose that when your nation is landlocked..."

"The head of the First Dragon split open..." Vanilla risked.

"Even Luna doesn't kick that hard," Celestia said, because it kept them from saying the rest for a few more seconds.

The doctors dropped back again, and the volume of their whispers had increased just enough.

"Do we ask them about the solar egg?"

"I am not going to ask about the egg! You ask!"

"I'm pretty sure if I ask about the egg, we are both going to die!"

Luna silently mouthed the word 'egg?' Celestia, exquisitely and equally confused, shrugged.

The stallions stepped forward again, and in doing so, crossed the finish line.

Together, flanks pressed tightly against each other, the words only brought out by the joined strength found in decades of friendship, "Princesses... where do alicorns come from?"

And they were there. For the first time since Luna's Return, they were both there...

There were excuses. Falsehoods, some of which had been allowed to lapse into the fiction emeritus status of mythology. At certain times in history, something close to orders. And in the end... dismissal to the status of foal questions, relegation into something only the youngest would ask about because everypony else would know better. Those foals grew up without ever being given the answers. They only learned to stop asking.

Sister sought out sister. Each thought of the burden, and the duty, and the world. Each nodded to the other, and for both, the movement was heavy with the weight of need.

Luna took a single hoofstep forward. The doctors instinctively pulled back.

Her wings flared, just enough to show all the unfurled joints. The lightest possible touch of corona glowed at the absolute tip of her horn.

"After," she said.

There were three anatomical charts on the far wall, near the false pegasus skeleton. Slowly, Luna trotted forward, past the shaking doctors, waited until she was sure they were watching her... and came to a stop in front of one.

"Before."

The silence stretched out, reached backwards, masked out the sounds from more than a thousand years of lies.

"...no," Chocolate breathed. "No... that's impossible... shapechange on that level would kill... the skeleton, the muscles, a pony body would just tear itself apart..."

"We are in front of you now, as the still-breathing proof of what took place," Celestia softly told them. "Changing to that degree would kill... except then. Except for that. Accept it, doctors -- please. You have to accept it, or there's nowhere else we can go."

"But..." Vanilla, weakly protesting. "...it..." A glance at Luna, next to that one chart. Back to Celestia. "...you?"

"The same." Mixed families had been something less than common in their youth. Something much closer to impossible.

"...Princess Cadance?" Chocolate seemed to be on the verge of a faint. "Somepony said that... once every seven centuries, or eight, or nine, when the stars were exactly right, it was possible for a normal pony to give birth to --"

"-- yes," Luna sighed. "From what I was told, that one was rather handy at the time, along with some ponies spontaneously deciding to believe that my sister had simply found a long-lost relative in a distant part of the world where nopony had previously thought to look, mostly because they would have had to know it existed first."

Celestia nodded. "Having her grow up in near-total isolation did most of the work all by itself."

"It must have helped you considerably," Luna decided, beginning to trot away from the chart.

"It didn't hurt."

The stallions were still reeling, swaying in unison. "But..." Vanilla tried, "she's... she's really a..."

Celestia's horn ignited, and her field surrounded the pegasus chart with soft glow.

"...who knows?" Chocolate just barely breathed. "Does anypony...?"

Luna paused in her trot, facing the doctors.

"Apart from the Princesses," she stated, "there are two living ponies who have been given this information -- and. They. Are. Standing. Before. Me."

And from behind her, a slightly embarrassed "...three."

Luna turned, and so missed the increase in the mutual sway rate.

"Three?"

"...yes."

"Truly?"

"...yes."

"...who?"

"Fancypants."

"Oh." And Luna smiled. "Oh. Of course!"

"You're not angry?"

"Sister, I have met him. If any should... then yes, let it be him. I am slightly frustrated that neither of you saw fit to tell me until now, but I can think of no better choice for your current seneschal. How long has he known?"

They also missed Vanilla's head tilting up and slightly to the never-before-witnessed left.

These words, just like the earlier ones, hurt. And yet... not entirely. Each one carried away a little weight, a mass which would return soon enough... but to let any bit of it out was to free a portion of the pain behind it, and such would require time to build again. For now, the sheer relief took over. "Nearly thirty years. I had... a bad night, we'd known each other for a while, and he was there, and... he doesn't know all of it, Luna. But he knows more than any pony alive. It was... the anniversary of the day we used the time travel spell, and... everything just kicked me at once, he was there, and I didn't want to tell you about it because I didn't know how you would feel about me having spoken for both of us..."

Gently. "Sister... once again, I have met him. Your taste in confidants is excellent. And if it was that date... then he knows her name?"

Not without a little touch of pride in a secret-carrier who had long-kept the knowledge private, "Yes."

The eyes rolling back were even missed by the stallion next to him.

"Well. Then should this problem ever be solved, I believe he and I will have to speak."

"But..." It was the last question Chocolate had strength left for. "...why? Why do you keep it secret at all?"

Celestia's weary gaze went past him, over both heads, looked into a possible future which neither sibling would no longer do anything to stop.

"Because," and her words only magnified the agony of memory, "when ponies know it's possible to become an alicorn... some of them try. And that can have a price, Doctors, a price we've seen paid in pony lives --"

But they all heard the skinny body hit the floor.