A Song of Storms: The Summer Lands

Chapters

Chapter 1: Turmoil
Chapter 2: Whispers
Chapter 3: Red Knives
Chapter 4: Sun and Stars
Chapter 5: Sisters
Chapter 7: The Knife that Cuts Deepest
Chapter 8: Turn Not Thy Face from Me
Chapter 9: The Rising Sun
Chapter 10: Mortality
Chapter 11: Ponies of Glass
Chapter 12: A Feast for Ponies
Chapter 13: The Brink
Chapter 14: The Breaking of the Storm
Chapter 15: Ice Cage
Chapter 16: Si Vis Pacem...
Chapter 17: ...Para Bellum
Interlude I
Interlude II
Interlude III
Interlude IV
Chapter 18: Crimson Fangs
Chapter 19: Fear and Loathing in Everfree
Chapter 20: Cherish the Thought
Prologue: The Journal
Chapter 6: Bring Them Home

Chapter 1: Turmoil

“Where are they going?”

“‘Where are they going?’ Where do you think?!”

“Gods, not again. Hearth’s Warming was bad enough, but now? We’re stretched thin as it is! We can’t deal with more of them!”

The two legionaries huddled against a barricade in the city’s largest street. In front of them, several cohorts of Cirra’s Legion tried to hold swirling and churning masses of unicorns and earth ponies at bay. The soldiers had entrenched their broad red shields in the ground and were leaning against them, struggling to brace themselves against a rioting crowd of angry Equestrian citizens. The tension in the air was high, but it was drowned out by the chorus of angry screaming from the crowd. Demands filled the air like sparks from the fires in the streets.

“Down with Cirran oppression!”

“Equal rights for earth ponies!”

“Remember River Rock!”

The two soldiers behind the barricade nervously tugged at their weapons as they watched the demonstration flare up, fueled by the poison of mob mentality. “They’re getting close...” one of them nervously muttered to his companion.

“We’re under orders to not attack the crowd, no matter what,” the other hissed back. “You know that if we so much as scratch one of them, the whole nation’s in revolt. Do you really want to be the pony that kills Equestria?”

The first legionary tightened his grip on his sword and flexed his wingblades, letting the armored scales glint in the sunlight. “Buck this nation, and buck the other races, I say. Cirra did fine on its own. We don’t need to tie ourselves down like this. We’ve got Cloudsdale after all, right? What are they going to do against that?”

“They’ll cut off our food and we’ll starve, that’s what,” a mare’s voice said from behind them. Jumping upright, the two legionaries swiftly turned and delivered her two salutes.

“Commander Typhoon,” the one began, nearly tripping over the simple address, “we weren’t expecting you... that is, we didn’t mean anything when—”

“Easy, soldier,” Typhoon said as she walked between the two towards the front of the barricade. Squinting through magenta eyes from underneath her brow, colored by a blond coat inherited from her mother, Typhoon surveyed the growing riot with the trained precision and discipline common of the Praetorian Guard. Her wings rustled against her sides, flexing their bladed crests in anticipation. She was wise beyond her years, and at twenty-two, she had already seen more combat than half the elder legionaries. The angry red scar over the right half of her face and the smaller discolorations of skysteel shrapnel embedded in her chest were a testament to that.

The other legionary nervously shifted his weight, and the skysteel plates of his armor rattled against one another. “They’ve been like this all morning, ma’am. An hour ago, another group of citizens joined up with this mess and only began to make things worse.” Gesturing towards a tower in the east, the soldier singled out a stallion in centurion’s armor who seemed to be commanding the situation from above. “Centurio Prior Steel Gait pulled several cohorts from the south side of the castle to try and reinforce the main roads, but we don’t have enough bodies to completely close off all the bridges. The west side is nothing more than a skeleton crew; a hundred and sixty-odd legionaries to try and hold that whole thing.”

The blond pegasus nodded. “I see.”

“Where the hell’s the rest of the Legion?!” the first legionary exclaimed. Raising his shield, he quickly blocked a sizable brick that some unicorn had flung at his head from the crowd. “Don’t we have more soldiers than this?”

“They’re out in the countryside, scattered between here and Platinum’s Landing,” Typhoon answered. “Pacifying the wilderness takes time and effort, and the last thing we need is to let Grabacr’s demons take hold of this land too. We know skysteel hurts them; it’s simply a matter of finding any who dare show their faces and slaying them before they do to this nation what they did to the Compact Lands.”

“Pacifying the wilderness?” the second soldier asked. “My brother was out in the field, and he says there’s a lot more going on in the north than just pacifying the wilderness. He mentioned something about the Crystals and how they—”

“Aren’t sticking their noses where they don’t belong, soldier,” the mare growled at him. Giving one last look over the streets as if it were a battlefield to be conquered, she turned back to the soldiers. Pulling a feather from a wing, she passed it to the taller of the two. “Tell your officer to pull the cohorts away from the north and lead the crowds around that way. When they get near the river, form a wedge and deflect them from the castle. Divide the crowds as best you can and disperse them; we’re only letting them get stronger by letting them stay in one spot.”

The two soldiers saluted the Praetorian and quickly abandoned their post to find the Optio. Tapping her hoof, Typhoon lingered for a few moments before she too retreated back towards the castle. After a few steps to distance herself from any unicorns in the crowd, she spread her wings and took flight, letting the warm air of summer ripple around her wings. She took a few quick circles to expertly increase her altitude before she flew up to a nearby steeple and perched squarely on its top. From there, she could see the entire town stretched out before her.

“Everfree City,” Typhoon muttered to herself as she watched the swirling masses of ponies trying to force their way to the castle. “So much for a city of peace and love. ‘Home of the ever-free’. Right.”

Taking wing, Typhoon flew back to the castle in the center of town. It was a small castle with a wide moat, but there was plenty of room to expand on the island which it dominated. For now, however, it suited its purpose, being crafted by the finest granite and stone that could be brought up from the quarries to the north. Strong ramparts and battlements with deep foundations formed the exterior walls, and on the tallest of these walls, Typhoon landed with a quiet groan.

“The crowd is moving,” spoke a stallion’s voice from the edge of the battlement. It was tired and weary, yet it conveyed its message stronger with a hoofful of words than any opulent speeches ever could.

Typhoon nodded in his direction. “Yeah, dad, I sent the word out to the centurions. Honestly, why they let the riots get this bad is anypony’s guess. Things are only going to get worse and worse the more this keeps up.”

Commander Hurricane, the legendary pegasus warrior, stretched his aching back and aging limbs as he turned to face his daughter. His nearly-black coat was beginning to show its age as the scattering of salt and pepper coloration spread along his shoulders and flanks, and the white scars against his body only stood out more as his body thinned. That wasn’t a problem most of the time, however, because the pegasus almost never removed his armor. The skysteel plates fortified in onyx stone and golden trim were polished as ever, and even the void dust infused into the stone had most of its grit smoothened down into something friendly to the touch—unless a unicorn touched it. Even in such small quantities, it still was potent enough to disorient anypony with Arcana who attempted to hold it.

“Queen Platinum and Chancellor Puddinghead have been trying to see if holding the Legion to let the crowds disperse on their own will be better for the public order in the long run.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but words never left his lips. Typhoon, however, caught it immediately, and raised an eyebrow in response.

“And you?”

Hurricane grumbled. “You know what I wanted to do. Break up the crowds before they even become a problem and double the city patrols. Perhaps pull one of our legions back from the north and add them to the city’s garrison. But whenever I even suggest this to them, I get outvoted two to one.” Sighing, the black stallion removed his helmet and fussed with the slowly tattering plume on its crest. “I’m forty-six, Typhoon. I’m past the prime of my life and my fighting days are numbered. I’ve got another twenty years in me at the most, unless Garuda claims me sooner.”

Typhoon stood next to her father and removed her helmet, letting her mane of reds, yellows, and browns fall loose over her face. With a practiced flick of her head, she shook the hair out of her eyes and patted it down with a hoof. “Live for what’s left to live for,” she said, looking towards Hurricane.

The aged stallion sighed. “As you get older, Ty, you find that there’s a lot less to live for,” he said, his eyes looking far, far to the east. Turning away from the city and the noise below, he looked toward the calmer, quieter north. “Summer was always her favorite time of the year...”

Typhoon felt the familiar pain in her heart whenever somepony mentioned her mother. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

An almost disappointed look came over Hurricane’s face as he reached out a wing to hug his daughter. “It wasn’t your fault, Typhoon. It’s been five years; we’d be better if we learn to let go.”

“Have you let go?” Typhoon asked, almost accusingly.

Hurricane exhaled, his neck drooping slightly. “No. I haven’t.” Then his eyes softened, and he looked back towards the distant eastern horizon. “But I have forgiven Cyclone. He’s still out there, Typhoon. He’s paid for what he’s done... I just wish I could bring him here and tell him how much he’s loved.”

Typhoon felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise at the mention of her brother’s name. “If he’s even still alive out there. I wouldn’t be surprised if the ponies who stayed in River Rock put his head on a pike already.”

The black pegasus sighed and shook his head. “There’s mail from River Rock once every blue moon,” he said. “He’s still alive, but its hard. You know the blizzard never ended, despite what I did.”

“How do they feed themselves out there?” Typhoon asked. “I’d figure it’s kind of hard to grow food for so many ponies in the dead of winter.”

“They make do,” Hurricane answered. “Cyclone’s last letter didn’t really touch upon it. He did mention that they’ve had problems with cannibalism that he’s had to address...”

Typhoon shuddered. “Good for them,” she muttered.

Hurricane looked at Typhoon from the corner of his eye. “I understand there’s still bad blood between you two after everything that happened in River Rock. Still, he’s family. Even if we might never see him again... the least you can do is be supportive and write to him. He’d love to hear about little Tempest. He’s lonely out there.”

The mare looked away and said nothing. Biting his lip, Hurricane let go of Typhoon and wandered towards the other end of the tower. “I have a meeting with Platinum and Puddinghead I’ve got to deal with. When I finish, I want the day’s mess over with.”

Typhoon saluted her father. “It’ll be done, sir.”

Hurricane nodded and began to walk away. Placing his hoof on the door to the castle interior, he decided to stop. Without looking over his shoulder, he added, “One day you’ll be in charge, Typhoon. You keep working like you are now, and you’ll never have to call another pony sir again.”

Then he left, leaving Typhoon to mull over his words as she assumed her father’s post on the tower.

Taking his time descending the staircase, it took Hurricane a few minutes before he found himself on the ground floor of the castle. The halls were spacious and high, lined with art and suits of armor at regular intervals to break up the monotony of gray and white stone. Tall, stout doors of oak and iron were held open with marble wedges, able to be kicked aside so that the halls could be closed at a moment’s notice. Large iron bars backed the doors, paired with equally large iron slats. There would be no repeat of Castle Burning Hearth’s ignominious fall.

Hurricane’s hooves took him along the all-too-familiar path to the meeting room, leading him by numerous murals and stained glass windows depicting events from the histories of all three races. One cluster of windows was dominated by the various visages of the unicorn kings of old, including the legendary Wise Five, who founded the Diamond Kingdom millennia ago. Next to that was a series of depictions of the Low Valleys over the years, from their fight against the domination of the Diamond Kingdom to the founding of the Low Valleys itself and a portrait of Chancellor Muffintop, Puddinghead’s renowned father and the much more popular politician of the two. Following those, at the very end of the line, were the three murals that Hurricane and his sister, Twister, had drawn up.

Hurricane paused to look at these. At the beginning, with the window furthest on the right, a proud homage to Roamulus watched over the hall. The legendary pegasus stood on a hill with the banners of all the tribes displayed behind him and underneath the proud flag of the Cirran Empire. Hurricane remembered the First Emperor’s struggles to unite the pegasi under one flag; after all, it was a story that the youth of Cirra were always reminded of. Now that Cirra was all but gone, however, he and Twister simply hoped that they’d save some piece of Roamulus’ legacy in that window above.

The next window held a much more recent and harrowing event in the memories of the Cirran pegasi. It was a simple window; the glass was predominantly varying shades of blue, filling in for the ocean. On the shore, a small town stood, while in the background a mass of white cloud choked on black smoke. In the sky, however, were thousands of tiny, colored flecks. They had no shape or distinction, but they charted their way across the blue ocean and the fiery skies to some unknown far, far away. A simple gold plaque under the window had the words ‘EXODVS OF DIODA, XI SHIVERING RAINS, CDI A.E.’

Hurricane couldn’t look at the last window, although he knew very well what was on it. In the center of the window was a massive city of white cloudstone, with spiralling towers and massive hills of cumulus. The backdrop was a gray sky filled with flecks of snow. All around the city, black shards of glass fought with each other and orange fires rose from behind it all. At the bottom of the window was an inscription that Hurricane had made himself: ‘The journey has its time, then ends. Thank you for the ride, Swift.’

“Hurricane! Commander, wait up!”

A slight smile drew across Hurricane’s lips, and he turned to face the newcomer. “Centurion Pan Sea, good to see you again. How have you been?”

Pan Sea smiled brightly and trotted down the hall as fast as his limp could carry him. The butter yellow stallion’s right leg was twisted almost completely around so that the front of its hoof pointed towards his opposite leg. He had suffered that wound during the siege of River Rock five years ago when a legionary's corpse fell out of the sky and crushed it under its helm. It had never set properly, and because of its positioning, Pan Sea was no longer deemed fit for active service. Hurricane, however, out of friendship for the stallion, kept him on as his secretary and aide de camp whenever the Legion was campaigning in the field—what little of those days remained.

“It’s been good, Commander,” Pan Sea said as he took his place by Hurricane’s side. “Cleared out all the paperwork for you so you don’t have to worry about that after your meeting with the others, and,” he paused, his eyes shining with a bright and pure happiness, “I proposed to Soft Feather the other day, and she said yes!”

A wide grin spread across the older stallion’s face. “Good job, Pansy! I knew you had it in you!” Reaching out a wing, Hurricane rubbed Pan Sea on the back. “Have you thought about the wedding at all?”

Pan Sea chuckled and ran a hoof through his amber mane. “We’re thinking on the anniversary of when we started dating, right at the beginning of summer.”

“So a little less than a year from now,” Hurricane observed. He smiled again at Pan Sea and bumped shoulders with the smaller pegasus. “Good for you! Good for you.”

The yellow pegasus nodded and chuckled happily for a few moments. “So, how about yourself, Commander? Any mares catch your eye?” Ribbing the praetorian through his armor, he added, “Maybe Platinum?” with a wink.

Hurricane scowled and shook his head. “I don’t want anything to do with her outside of my job. She may be a better and nicer pony after everything we did in Equestria, but she’s still a king’s daughter at heart.” When Pan Sea tilted his head, confused, Hurricane rolled his eyes. “She may be a queen now, Pansy, but she’s still spoiled.”

Pan Sea mouthed an ‘oh’ and tried to play it off. “I was mostly kidding, Commander. I was hoping that you’d maybe found somepony new, but...”

The aged stallion sighed. “I understand, Pan Sea. I’ve got senators’ daughters lined up outside my bedroom half the time waiting to have their chance with me. I’ve got all the fair and beautiful of Cirra to choose from, but...” he stopped and shook his head. “They don’t have that spark like Swift did. They don’t understand what its like to fight or to struggle or sacrifice, and the mares that do—the mares in the Legion—respect me too much as a commanding officer to even think about approaching me.” Shrugging, Hurricane walked onward. “Perhaps it’s for the best. I’d only be disappointing myself if I tried somepony new.”

When Pan Sea failed to come up with a response, Hurricane shrugged and continued walking. Making a left down an intersection of hallways, he led the two of them to a large and impressive chamber in the center of the castle. Tall, narrow windows that stretched nearly a hundred feet from floor to ceiling were opened to air out the stone room, and three colored tapestries, blue for Cirra, purple for the Diamond Kingdom, and white for the Low Valleys, trembled in the breeze they let in. Running the length of the hall was a large banquet table, although the wood was bare at the moment. Despite the simplicity of the table, the columns of marble and detailed etchings into the stone were all edged in the finest of gold leaf and the clearest of diamonds. The work of River Rock’s masons and architects hadn’t dulled with the inclusion of Cirran and Low Valley architecture in the castle; instead, they had welcomed it into their style, making the result something that could only be called Equestrian.

Something else that was truly Equestrian was already gathering at the end of the banquet table. Seated at two of the three high-backed chairs were a pair of ponies, talking with each other as quietly as the two ponies in question could manage. The one was a unicorn mare with a silver-white coat and a rolling purple mane curled into luxurious twists underneath a large crown. The silver of the crown was inset with amethysts and plated with white gold, and a robe of royal purple and white fur was draped over the mare’s shoulders. Next to her, a large, brown earth pony stallion gaily sat at the table, clothed in an unsettling mix of yellow and brown and wearing what essentially was a large bowl of pudding on a hat. They finished their conversations as Hurricane took his seat at the table across from the earth pony.

“Commander, we were wondering when you would show up,” the mare spoke, to which the earth pony nodded.

Hurricane sighed and rubbed a hoof against his brow. “I was busy making sure that they didn’t storm the castle on us, in case you weren’t aware.” Then, removing his helmet, Hurricane set it down on the table and leaned back. “So, Platinum, Puddinghead, are we ready to begin?”

Queen Platinum nodded and set her crown aside, while Puddinghead mirrored the action with his hat. “Yes, quite.”

The Commander nodded and turned to Pan Sea, who was still standing by the table. “You are dismissed, centurion.”

Pan Sea saluted and hobbled out of the hall. When the door shut behind him, Hurricane redirected his attention back towards the other two Equestrians in the room. “I left Commander Typhoon in charge of the situation outside. We will not be disturbed.”

“Good,” Platinum said as she leaned over the table, “because the situation has been getting rather largely out of hoof as of late. If I recall, this is the seventh major riot in as many months, and looking out of the window, it looks like it was the largest one to date.”

“The largest was in White Fields... sorry, January,” Hurricane added when Puddinghead gave him his signature clueless look, before continuing. “You remember why.”

A haunted look paled Platinum’s face even underneath her white coat. She looked down at her hooves and muttered “beloved...” softly to herself. She began to shudder, and her hooves clawed at a heart-shaped silver locket around her neck. “I’d rather not reopen old wounds, Hurricane, if you would be so kind,” she breathed, her eyes focused on some distant event far away.

Hurricane nodded respectfully. “I understand. But the fallout over what happened still put the nation on edge. Combined with the rising tensions between the different racial districts in Everfree over jobs and property, all we need is a spark before these riots become a rebellion or a revolution.”

“I’ve done my bestest to find out why the ponies are so angry,” Puddinghead piped up in his usual excited voice. “The unicorns and earth ponies don’t like the pegasuses being in charge of the army, the earth ponies and pegasees don’t like having a unicorn queen, and the peggasses and unicorns don’t like us earth ponies taking up all the jobs!”

Hurricane sighed. “I’ve opened up the Legion to allow earth ponies and unicorns to serve, but I can’t do anything to draft them in times of peace. Your races don’t have the same drive to serve their nation that the pegasi do, which is why the Legion is still ninety percent Cirran. We’ve got one legion of earth ponies and unicorns. One. The rest are auxiliaries in other legions, but there are next to none in any of the campaigning armies. They simply can’t keep up if they don’t have wings.”

“I’ve made it clear time and time again to the ponies of Equestria that I’m not really their queen,” Platinum stated. Holding her crown with her Arcana, she slowly rotated it back and forth, looking at her reflection in the metal. “We are a democracy, and I hold as much power as either of you two. Our parliament consists of equal numbers of senators, nobles, and members of the Board of Representatives. I am simply the face of the nation, by your own consent, since I take a keener interest in politicking than either of you.”

Chancellor Puddinghead frowned. “I like politics!”

Platinum thought for a moment before changing her answer. “Or because I’m a more apt politician than you two.”

Hurricane shrugged his wings. “I could care less. I never enjoyed politics; Swift was better at it than I ever was. Just put me with my Legion, and I’m fine.”

“I’ve been trying for years now to get everypony to share the jobs!” Puddinghead suddenly exclaimed. “But it’s nearly impossible when all the jobs are farming or stabbing things, and us earths are really good at growing things and you non-earths aren’t, and nopony other than the air-types want to stab things and die!”

“Our options as to the employment of Equestria’s workforce are rather limited,” Platinum said. “We have no real trading partners to exchange goods with, now that our three races are united, so commerce has plummeted sharply. The Crystal Union has hardly been helping, either, despite the promised ‘trade agreements’ representative Smart Cookie has set up with them.”

“I think he’s more interested in hearing that crystal plot ring,” Puddinghead whispered to Hurricane from across the table.

Hurricane only rolled his eyes, but Platinum apparently didn’t hear the Chancellor. “Only pegasi want to go into the military, the skilled jobs are taken by unicorns, and agriculture, our primary employment, is populated with earth ponies,” she continued. Sighing, the mare tapped her hoof against the table. “Anypony who wants to do something other than their race’s usual profession can’t find jobs. The only thing where the races really mix is in industry, but our industry is tiny and incapable of employing more than a few thousand ponies. It doesn’t help that the skysteel business is exclusively pegasus, as pegasus skysteel smiths and harvesters make up a sizeable chunk of the population.”

“Hey, if you find a way to get earth ponies and unicorns up to Cloudsdale to work skysteel, be my guest,” Hurricane replied. “But you don’t have Empatha, and so your steel will be flat, assuming you could even work it into anything other than cloud.”

“I’m sure Clover would enjoy another research project,” Platinum answered. “Star Swirl too. Why, the old stallion’s always finding something to pick up around here, I don’t think he’d mind helping out.”

“And what else would the earth ponies and unicorns do if they could stand in Cloudsdale?” Hurricane asked. “There isn’t anything up there for them.”

The unicorn sighed. “I’m sure there’ll be some sort of jobs they can take on up there.”

“But what about all them rioters outside?” Puddinghead questioned. “They don’t want to go to Cloudsdale. Hay, they seem like they want our heads more than anything else! What are we going to do about them?”

“Garrison more legions.”

“Make concessions.”

Commander Hurricane and Queen Platinum turned irate glares towards each other. “The only thing that is going to keep them out of this castle is more soldiers than angry citizens, your highness.”

“You’ve obviously heard the cries out there, Commander. ‘Down with Cirran oppression! Disband the Legion!’” Platinum shook her head, disappointed. “What do you think is going to happen if we only give them more to worry about?”

“And what can we concede to them that we haven’t already?!” Hurricane bellowed. “I’m tired of having this argument with you. We’ve done all we can to try to appease them, but what we can give them isn’t what they want!” Sighing, Hurricane slumped in his chair and tapped his hooves together in frustration. “We shouldn’t have tried to do this, to make three nations one. We would have been better off going our separate ways and maintaining the Compact system. We’re not three races united under one banner. We’re three races tied together by the same noose around our necks.”

Both Platinum and Puddinghead had no response to that. Instead, the three leaders sat around the table with their heads in their hooves, sighing and mumbling half thought-out plans that quickly fell apart under further scrutiny. By the time the full hour that they had dedicated for their meeting had passed, they had drawn nothing up except for the crumpled pages of a few abandoned measures.

“Business as usual,” Hurricane muttered as he placed his helmet squarely back over his graying head. “No wonder the ponies of Equestria want our heads. We can’t even come to an agreement ourselves about how we can save them.”

Platinum gripped a quill in her Arcana and angrily snapped it in two. “Woe is this nation without a monarchical system! Things were so much easier to do when you could just write it off as the Word of the King and the will of Celestis and Lunis!”

“Celestis and Lunis talk to you guys too?” Puddinghead asked, eyes crossed. “I thought they only talked to me after I finished my daily smoke before dinner! Man, whatever that weed growing behind my house is, I gotta franchise that stuff!”

Hurricane gave Puddinghead a quick, disdainful, yet completely unsurprised look. “That explains a lot.” Turning back to Platinum, his eyes narrowed. “We can’t rely on those cheap tactics anymore, Platinum. We’ve only got our thr—two brains to find a solution to our problems.”

Puddinghead’s ear flopped. “Hey! I know when somepony’s being made fun of, and somepony’s being made fun of!” His face immediately shifted into one of concern, and he gently held Platinum’s hoof between his own. “I’m so sorry, I can’t believe he just said that.”

Platinum scowled at Puddinghead, and her face turned so red Hurricane thought it would burst into flames. Hurricane himself found it hard to hold onto his expressionless façade, although he managed to pull it off with a great deal of effort. Puddinghead, all the while, was dead serious.

“Let go of me!” Platinum growled as she yanked her hoof free of Puddinghead’s grasp. Standing up, she faced the flag of the Diamond Kingdom and held a hoof to her chest. “In, two, three, hold… Out, two, three, hold.”

Her breathing exercises complete, she turned around and walked back to the table. Her horn lit up, its blue aura wrapping around her crown and bringing it back to her head.

“Feel better?” Hurricane asked, the tiniest fraction of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“One moment,” Platinum said, closing her eyes and looking away. Her horn remained lit, and only when Hurricane saw the candlestick flying over from across the room did he see why.

CLANG

Puddinghead’s head slammed into the table while Platinum returned the bent candlestick to its place. The Chancellor began moaning after a few seconds and clutched at the back of his head, although he was much too disoriented to do anything else.

“Better,” Platinum said, smiling to herself. Turning back to Hurricane, she nodded to him with a slight tilt of her head. “You were saying, Commander?”

Hurricane couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly. “Nice shot.”

“Thank you.”

After a few more chuckles, Hurricane cleared his throat. “Right. Parliament doesn’t like our power over them, so we can’t rely on them to help us unless they’re feeling the heat as well. I wouldn’t be surprised if the senators and the nobles are helping to stir up trouble for us with the crowds outside.”

Platinum raised an eyebrow. “You really think so?”

Hurricane nodded. “You may never have seen it because your father was a popular king, but nobles and other politicians will always plot to gain the most for themselves. Hell, I was throttled by the Senate when I first took power twenty-five years ago.” Hurricane looked out the window for a second, remembering. “If you don’t prove yourself as a strong leader, Platinum, there will always be ponies looking to cut your legs out from underneath you and steal everything they can from your saddlebags while you’re down. That’s the situation we’re in right now. If we lose our footing, we’re going down hard, and it’ll be the end of us.”

The unicorn queen solemnly nodded. “I see. I see.” Sighing, she stood up and began to walk around the table, patting Puddinghead on the shoulder to get him up. Hurricane followed, with Puddinghead taking up the rear. When the three of them reached the doorway, Platinum paused by the massive oak and steel doors. “I thank you both for the time, what little we did with it. ‘Any progress is better than none,’ my father used to say.”

Hurricane saluted her with his wing. “True enough words, but we’re going to need more than a little progress to save this nation. Sooner or later, a little won’t be enough.” Pulling open the door, he fidgeted with his helmet one more time to make sure it was secure. “I should go and make sure that the riot has calmed down before the sun sets. Maybe we’ll get a good night’s sleep for once.”

Platinum and Puddinghead watched Hurricane go down the hall and disappear around the corner. Sighing, Equestria’s queen shook her head. “I don’t know what to do, Chancellor. I just don’t know.” Looking toward a portrait of a regal blue unicorn stallion, her eyes saddened. “I wish my father was around. He would’ve known what to do.”

Puddinghead shrugged and touched the lump forming on the back of his head once more. “I don’t know, sister, but I’d say beating each other over the head ain’t gonna help our problems out that much!” Trotting away with an awfully cheery attitude, he called back over his shoulder. “Equestria needs to see some symbol of unity for once!”

Platinum paused by the door as Puddinghead too left her behind. Silently, she closed the door behind her, thinking. “Unity… how can we show unity if these councils, they only thing we have to represent it, is what the ponies hate?”

A pitch black room sparked to life with a green glow from its center. In the dull light, the pale outlines of worn tables and scattered papers upon cluttered desks became visible. They only became clearer as a second green glow materialized around something else, a straight, black razor with a ring at one end. It appeared to be chiseled out of stone, and green sparks angrily flew off of the aura surrounding it before being quickly devoured at the tip.

“Good, good. Do you feel it yet?” a stallion’s voice asked from the darkness. It was old and soft, but measured with a precise fascination and interest.

“I think I’m feeling something. It’s hard to tell through the leyline feedback, but I think I’m getting some sort of charge.”

This one was a mare’s voice. Confident, young, fresh, wise. The pony behind it was obviously well-learned, and lacking no amount of respect either. She seemed comfortable in the presence of the older stallion.

The stallion coughed in the darkness, and a slight jingling accompanied it. “If the crystals take mana as I hypothesized, then we might be able to get a positive-negative field with which we can store mana. Of course, there’s always the risk of—”

The black razor in the room suddenly took up a brilliant white glow before fracturing into pieces, releasing a bright flash of light that outlined the two unicorns standing in the back of the room. The flash was accompanied by a sizeable boom, and somewhere in the room an inkwell shattered. For a few seconds, only the tinkle of stone shards on a stone floor could be heard.

“…that?” the mare spoke in the darkness.

A sigh. “We should have triple-layered the crystals, and made the middle layer perpendicular to the other two for strength. That way we could—”

A door abruptly opened, letting torchlight pour into the room and light everything up. The torch was held in an aura of aqua Arcana, and another unicorn mare, this one still a filly, wandered into the room. Seeing the shattered remains of black crystal on the ground before her, the filly pouted and stuck the torch in a sconce on the wall. “Are you guys doing advanced arcane studies without me again? Clover, Star Swirl, you promised you’d let me help next time!”

The mare known as Clover, a pistachio green unicorn with a darker green mane and purple eyes, glanced to Star Swirl and took a few steps towards the filly. “I’m sorry, Diadem, but we only had one of our prototypes to work with, and we needed a gentle touch for it. Your Arcana is still a bit too untempered and volatile for the work we’re doing.”

Diadem, an aqua unicorn with a teal mane and eyes, huffed disappointedly. “Come on, Clover! You were fifteen too when you started working with Star Swirl! I want you to mentor me and help me become an archmage too!”

Clover laughed. “Well now, Diadem, I was actually seventeen when I started working with void crystals, so you’ve got another two years ahead of you. And I already told you I’d take you on as my apprentice next year when you’re sixteen and old Star Swirl’s an impressive eighty.”

Star Swirl the Bearded laughed, and fiddled with his flowing white beard with an olive drab hoof. “Eighty is only a number, Clover dear. I’ve got plenty left to live for; like great-grandchildren.”

The green mare’s cheeks turned a healthy shade of rose. “I’ve been looking! As a project… on the side,” Clover stammered, her cheeks only becoming redder. “I’m thirty! I’ve got plenty of time to find the perfect stallion!”

Diadem rolled her eyes. “One that would let you experiment with him?”

Clover raised an eyebrow. “Well, not really, I wouldn’t want to perform possibly dangerous magical experiments on another pony that I love, or any other pony at all, but I would consider it if it came down to… why are you looking at me like that?”

Diadem had the purest representation of a face that could only be described as ‘really?’ So simple and so complete was its depiction of that rhetorical question that all Clover would ever picture years from now when it came up would be Diadem’s current expression. Even if the mare was confused at the time for the reasoning behind such a face, Star Swirl certainly wasn’t. In fact, the elder stallion felt the need to point out exactly what Clover was missing by burying a hoof within the folds of his beard and chuckling.

“I don’t think she means that sort of experimentation, Clover dear,” Star Swirl said when he pulled his hoof away from his face. His eyes wandered off to some distant place, and the bells on his hat and robe jingled at his reminiscent sigh. “I remember those days. Why, your grandmother was a sight to behold once the sun went down. Her mother was an acrobat back in her day, and boy, did she inherit something special…”

If Diadem had previously won the award for best face, Clover’s visual expression of shock, terror, disgust, and intrigue certainly dethroned her. “Grandpa, please!! You’re making me uncomfortable!”

The elder stallion only laughed and gave Clover a wry smile. “One day, Clover, you’ll understand. One day.” Then, turning his golden eyes towards, Diadem, he levitated over several loose leaves of notepaper. “This is what Clover and I have been working on, Diadem.”

Diadem’s own horn lit up as she took the notes from Star Swirl. Her teal eyes darted back and forth across the paper as she took in the complicated notes and scrawled diagrams written up and down the parchment. Rotating the papers to get a better look at them, she eventually shifted focus to the shattered stone razor on the ground. “...what is it?”

“An arcane energy amplification support made out of void crystals,” Clover explained as she lifted the now inert void crystal fragments from the ground with her magic. “Star Swirl and I hypothesized that if the void crystals devour whatever mana they can get a hold of, they must store that energy somewhere. We were seeing if it was possible to reverse-engineer the crystals into some sort of device that gives off mana rather than taking it, which could be used to give arcane strength back to unicorns with failing horns, and maybe even counteract the Scourge that Queen Platinum carries in her blood.”

Diadem trotted over to the shattered crystals and picked one up. It was the base of the assembly, a wide ring paired with a vertical blade that had broken off in the experiment. It was obviously designed to fit around a unicorn’s horn. “So you mean some unicorn could stick this on her head and her power would be doubled or something?”

“In practice, yes” Star Swirl clarified as he picked up the pieces and laid them out on the table. “An apparatus such as this could be charged with an copious amounts of magical effluence, which a unicorn could access at will by connecting it to the leylines in their horn. Thus, casting a spell would draw on the mana inside the apparatus more so than the unicorn’s own Arcana, and it could serve as a mana reserve to keep a pony without access to their own supply alive. You saw how the Scourge sapped poor Platinum II dry until there was nothing left.”

Both Clover and Diadem shuddered at the thought. Queen Platinum’s only child, Platinum II, had been born two years ago with a deformed horn. Early last autumn, it had become twisted and gnarled with the Scourge. The tiny unicorn didn’t last much longer after that; by the time she died in February, what little was left of her was a shriveled husk, devoid of any sort of mana. The Queen had been heartbroken and suicidal when Star Swirl tested her afterwards and told her that she carried the disease in her blood and, although she’d never get it, would always pass it on to her children.

Clover in particular shivered at the memory. There had been some long nights where she had to stay by Platinum’s side to make sure that she didn’t hurt herself. She remembered how panicked she was when the queen was late to breakfast one morning and showed up with purple bruises around her neck. It hadn’t helped at all that Platinum’s husband, a unicorn noble from the Opal family, died of mysterious circumstances barely a week earlier.

Nothing had ever come to light about that in the months since, come to think of it. All Clover knew was that was when the first riots began.

Diadem was already pleading with Star Swirl by the time Clover brought her attention back to the present. “…saying I know a lot about how void crystal works, too! Don’t you remember that I was able to overpower the ring they had on my horn at Onyx Ridge? Not even you or Clover could do that!”

“You have the strength to overpower one of the most dangerous elements in the world, yes,” Star Swirl noted. Pulling his pipe out of a pocket on his robe, he immediately settled it between his lips and filled it with tobacco. “But what you have in power, you lack in control, young filly. It takes more than just the raw expenditure of mana to be a skilled mage, and even more so to be an archmage like Clover or myself.”

The ‘young filly’ in question grumbled in frustration and picked up a live piece of void crystal with her bare hooves—something which outright shocked the two archmages in the room. “I still don’t see why you guys won’t let me help you with this, though! See? I can handle the crystals on my own without needing some scaffolding to just be able to move it. Sure, it stings, but it’s nothing that I wasn’t used to after months in Onyx Ridge.” Setting the stone aside on a work bench, Diadem turned to Clover and took a step closer. “Please, Clover? I really want to learn! You’ve said it yourself that I’ll probably be the greatest archmage to ever live someday! Give me this one chance, this one project, to let me prove it!”

Sighing, Clover’s concerned frown turned into careful smile. “Alright, Diadem. I trust you enough to handle yourself. Though I will say, that’s a tough project for my first student to take on.”

Diadem immediately began bouncing up and down. “Oh, thank you thank you thank you! Clover, you’re the best. You too, Star Swirl!” she added as she twirled towards the bearded stallion with a hop. Star Swirl only released a puff of smoke from his pipe alongside a nod as his only acknowledgment.

Clover settled her unofficial student with a pat on the shoulder. “Easy, easy. We wouldn’t want to break something, now would we?”

The filly stopped, yet she nudged a shattered piece of Clover’s prototype with a hoof. “Like this?”

“That was in the name of the arcane,” Clover quickly defended. Then, gathering up the last of the fragments in a dustpan, she, dumped the rest of the destroyed prototype in the garbage. “Of course, now we need more void crystal. Do we have any left?”

Star Swirl took his pipe out of his mouth and began to peruse through the various cabinets in the room. After a few minutes, however, he shook his head. “That was the last of it, unfortunately. We used what little we had left from the Diamond Kingdom already. We’ll have to get more.”

Diadem cocked her head. “Can’t we just have Smart Cookie send some more down from the north? I mean, he’s been settling our trade agreements with the Crystal Union for three years now. All he has to do is ask Queen Jade and I’m sure she’ll send some down.”

The elder stallion hummed and drew on his pipe some more. “Smart Cookie has gotten quite close to the fair Jade in recent years, although I doubt he’ll simply be able to sign off on a shipment for a hundred or so pounds of void crystal. Jade is very careful with her nation’s supplies of the crystals; besides, little trade ever gets through between the Union and Equestria these days.”

“What do you mean?” Diadem asked. “I thought we’ve been trading with them for the past few years.”

Clover shook her head. “We were, Diadem, but the borders are all but closed to the north. It’s not safe to send anything along those roads anymore.”

Diadem frowned as she tried to imagine why. “But why not? I mean, even if the roads weren’t safe, we’ve got the shipping lanes open from Platinum’s Landing to the Crystal Shores port. There aren’t any other naval powers than us and them.”

“Jade no longer owns Crystal Shores,” Star Swirl mumbled from the corner of the room.

The aqua unicorn turned towards him, confused. “What? Yes she does! It’s one of the Union’s towns, after all.” Looking between the two older unicorns in the room, she raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on in the north?”

“Nopony knows, Diadem,” Clover said, shrugging her shoulders. “The excuse I’ve heard is that the Legion is ‘pacifying the wilderness’, but I’ve never gotten a clearer answer than that.”

Diadem paused, a worried tone creeping into her voice. “Do you think the warlords are back?”

Clover emphatically shook her head ‘no’. “Of course not. From what Smart Cookie told me way back when, Onyx Ridge was the last barbarian stronghold ever, and the Union annihilated it. They’re long dead and gone.”

“Well you can never be too certain!” Diadem insisted. “You remember what those guys were like when we were prisoners! Any one of them could have been strong enough to gather their own following and start pillaging again.”

This time, Clover sighed and put on her ‘business’ face. Walking over to Diadem, she clasped her hooves on the filly’s shoulders. “The warlords are gone, Diadem. End of story. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Diadem knew better than to argue with Clover whenever the green mare put on one of her ‘mom faces’. Grumbling, she pushed Clover’s hooves away and muttered “Fine.”

Satisfied, Clover returned to her work. “Good. Now, before we all pack in for the night, we should just take a quick inventory of what we have left.” Grabbing a clipboard from the nearby counter, she passed it to Diadem with her magic. “Go to the storeroom and take inventory of our supplies. We’ve got a busy day of experimentation tomorrow.” Flinching at a recent memory, Clover turned her eyes to her grandfather in a new light and frowned. “And not that kind of experimentation, grandpa.”

Star Swirl only chuckled and drew the last of the tobacco smoke from his pipe.

Once it was clear that Clover had already directed her attention elsewhere, Diadem sighed and left the archmages’ study. The study was at the height of one of the castle’s towers, and the only way up and down was a spiraling staircase that let into a long, stone hallway that ran the length of the upper floors. On the left was the library; home to vaulted ceilings, sharp ceiling arches, and large windows, it was filled to the brim with thousands of books amassed from Star Swirl’s collection back in River Rock. How the wizard got so many books out of Compact Lands and into Equestria was anypony’s guess, but like all things involving the archmage, it obviously involved magic. Diadem was at least thankful for it; it was one of her favorite places to relax and get lost in a good book or look up some of the more obscure of the arcane spells.

Of course, that had its own risks as well. The book about the fisherpony’s wife had been a terrifying and confusing experience to read.

Just past the library and around the corner was a heavy skysteel door that kept the magic supplies safely contained. The door was magically sealed and could only be opened with Arcana, where the unicorn used their horn as a sort of key. Inside there were more doors and more locks to restrict access to the more sensitive and valuable materials, and only Star Swirl, Clover and Diadem herself knew the combinations to these. Even still, there was one door in the very back of the storeroom that opened only to Star Swirl. Diadem had never seen what was inside, and the thought always tickled her curiosity whenever she wandered near it.

Placing her horn in the first lock, Diadem, entered the combination of mana pulses required to open it. After a few seconds, the steel rumbled and slid open, granting her access to the storeroom within. Glancing again at the clipboard and seeing the list of everything to inventory, the filly grumbled and walked towards the nearest shelves. There she began the drudgery of counting and placing checkmarks in boxes that ran up and down the sheet of parchment for the next hour.

Diadem didn’t know when she dozed off; all she knew was that she woke to the sound of something moving nearby. Fluttering her eyes open, she sat up from where she had her face pressed against the table and looked around. Nothing moved, and not a whisper of air could be heard in the stone room. Yet she knew that she had heard something. Getting up, the filly’s horn lit in an aqua glow, and she wearily wandered around the storeroom.

The tall shelves and shady corners suddenly took on a whole new appearance for her. Before, they were boring and annoying. Now, each corner housed the threat of potential danger. Gulping, Diadem blinked as a solid wall of aqua Arcana filled the doorway, sealing off the room.

Step 1: Containment. Diadem wearily looked over her shoulders as she walked up and down the aisles in the storeroom. Clover was no battlemage, but the mare had taught Diadem a few basic skills to make sure she could handle herself in a situation such as this. The rest the filly had picked up on her own time, either in the streets of Everfree or from her time back in Onyx Ridge. Making her way back to the center of the room, Diadem took a deep breath and expanded her Arcana, letting her horn grow brighter as a result.

Step 2: Sweep. A solid wall of arcane energy formed behind Diadem, and, at her urging, began to move forward. As it touched the shelves, the wall naturally broke and reformed around each individual object, never once letting more than an inch of open space form in its barrier. When it reached Diadem, the filly’s Arcana passed around her without harm. Slowly, surely, she ran the wall further and further into the room.

When the wall reached halfway, Diadem stood up straighter and teased a few stray hairs from her mane away from her glowing horn. “Hello? If there’s anypony in here, you better tell me right now. You don’t want to touch the glowing wall of death over here. Seriously, it’d hurt pretty bad.” Receiving no reply, Diadem shrugged her shoulders and continued pushing the wall, ignoring the small bead of sweat that formed on her brow. Maintaining an arcane wall was taxing for most unicorns, but the filly already had such a large mana reserve that it had barely consumed a fraction of it thus far.

Cautiously walking farther into the room, Diadem followed the wall of her Arcana at a safe distance. She had already swept out most of the storeroom and hadn’t encountered the slightest bit of resistance. If there was somepony in there, she would have heard them by now, either from them choosing to reveal themselves or their pained shrieks as the wall fried their limbs. Yet there was nothing. Regardless, Diadem wasn’t about to turn around and leave until she knew for sure whether or not there was somepony actually in the room with her.

The end of the storeroom bent around a corner before ultimately coming to a stop with Star Swirl’s special door. Diadem was only ten feet away from the corner at this point and, siding with caution, swept her wall in an arc around the corner to clear it before pressing onwards. Just as she was sure it was clear, she felt the slightest tug of resistance on her Arcana.

The unicorn immediately stopped dead in her tracks. Funneling more power into the horn, she pushed on the wall. Something pushed back. With a nervous gulp, Diadem walked wide of the corner so she stood in the center of the bend. “I know you’re there!” she shouted. “Just tell me what you’re doing here and you won’t get hurt!”

The mysterious entity’s only response was to push harder on the wall. Diadem knew that it must have been a unicorn of some sort; it was the only way somepony could resist the wall and not burn themselves. Releasing a breath, Diadem widened her stance and anchored her hooves to the ground. Closing her eyes, she breathed as she opened the floodgates to her mana reserves. She met the opposing push with one of her own and waited.

There are three fundamental concepts in dueling with Arcana. These are speed, power, and reserves. Even though Diadem was still a mage in training, she was already better than most of the unicorn court mages in Everfree, and she knew it. She had access to powerful mana and could transform it into Arcana as fast as most of the wizards, but her real strength was her reserves. She could hold a taxing spell, one that Star Swirl the Bearded could only maintain for several minutes, for half an hour. In a game of magical tug-of-war, the young filly was guaranteed to win nine times out of ten. As she matched the opposing unicorn’s Arcana step for step, Diadem only maintained control over her breathing and let her enormous mana pool flow through her horn.

But then the other pony pushed back. Harder. Diadem gritted her teeth as she opened up her leylines to dump as much mana as she could into her spell. She was emptying her reserves at an amazing rate; she knew she’d only be able to keep the wall up for about five more minutes. But as she struggled, she realized it still wouldn’t be enough. Opening her eyes, she could see a distorted purple and blue shimmer rippling over the left side of her wall. As she watched, it only grew in intensity until the wall slowly began to turn despite Diadem’s best efforts.

Eventually, the mysterious force had pushed Diadem’s wall back enough to break her lock on the remaining section of the storeroom. Sweating profusely and with sparks flying off of her horn, Diadem desperately swung the wall around in tandem with the other pony’s push, causing it to violently revolve in place. She hoped that the burn would at least be enough to incapacitate the pony in question without outright killing him… her… it.

Instead, there was no screech of pain as the wall made a complete revolution. All Diadem saw was a flitting black shadow dart into the clear before her wall could touch it. It immediately sprinted away from her and to the door, which still had Diadem’s arcane shield on it. Instead of stopping to try and dismantle the spell, the figure simply lit up a sharp and curved horn with its magic and sliced the shield to ribbons. Diadem felt a spike of pain in her horn as the severed connection to her mana made itself known in her leylines. Dissipating her wall, she immediately switched her Arcana over to grabbing onto the intruder’s tail.

An aqua glow lit up around the fleeing figure, and as Diadem tugged, he lurched to a stop in the doorway. After a quick struggle to physically break free, the pony snapped around to face Diadem directly. The filly gasped as she tried to take in exactly what she was seeing.

Her live Arcana lit up a dark blue-gray coat that heavily favored the blue coloration. It was definitely a unicorn of some sort, judging by the large curved horn, but no unicorns Diadem knew had slitted yellow eyes. Or fangs. Or wore cuirasses as dark as the midnight sky. In fact, the filly was starting to doubt that this was a pony at all.

The pony-thing bared its fangs at her, and his—for Diadem was pretty sure it was a he—horn lit up in its distorted glow. Diadem tried to squash out his Arcana by wrapping her own around his horn, but he simply punched through it with brute force and retaliated with his own magic suppression hex. Try as she might, Diadem couldn’t resist the pure strength of the pony’s magic, and she soon felt her leylines close up and spark with pain as her mana suddenly found nowhere to go. Blackness tickled the edge of her vision, and she fell down to her knees, panting.

It didn’t keep her down long. After a few breaths, Diadem flew to her hooves, only to see the pony escape out of the storeroom. “H-Hey! Get back here!” she cried out in a futile attempt to get him to slow down. The unicorn didn’t even spare her a look as he ran down the long hallway away from the room. Feeling the adrenaline rushing through her body, Diadem galloped after him, her hooves hammering across the flagstones in an eerily settling rhythm.

Coming to a corner, the other unicorn leapt into the air in a fluid motion and ran along the wall for several feet before touching back onto the ground again. Instead of trying to maneuver, however, Diadem’s horn flashed twice. Two aqua circles appeared in the corner, one directly in front of her and one against the perpendicular wall. Lowering her head, she sprinted clean through the first circle and came out the second, having changed her course to sprint down the hall without having to lose speed from turning.

In the torchlight outside the storeroom, Diadem could clearly see that the pony she was chasing wasn’t a pony like any other. His dark coat seemed only darker in the light, and his well-muscled and lean body moved at an unnaturally fast speed. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Diadem hounding after him, closing the gap inch by inch through sheer will and determination. Frowning, his horn sparked to life, and several crisscrossing barriers of Arcana erected themselves before the filly. Furrowing her brow, Diadem’s horn flashed twice again, this time creating a hole on the floor in front of her and a hole on the roof farther down the hallway. With a gasp, she dove straight through the first hole…

…and landed heavily on the stallion’s back. It was cold as ice, and Diadem gasped as she felt his broad shoulders begin to teeter under the sudden impact. Surprised, the muscular stallion collapsed beneath the filly’s weight, and the two of them tumbled to the ground. Rolling out of the fall and bruising her shoulder in the process, Diadem managed to scramble to her hooves at the same time that the stallion did. Wasting no time, she immediately materialized an arcane cage around the other unicorn’s body and squeezed, tightening it down to try and immobilize him. After a second to gain his footing, the stallion’s horn came to life and shattered the bars of Diadem’s cage, blasting them back with such violence that it knocked the filly off her hooves. Diadem grunted as she slammed her back into the wall and cracked her head against the stone. Stars danced before her eyes, and all she could do was moan as her skull throbbed.

When she could finally see straight, she could see the stallion smiling at her from halfway down the hall. His fangs extended a good inch over his lower lip, and when he laughed, it was a surprisingly deep and smooth sound. “Not bad for a filly. Not bad at all.” He examined a drop of scarlet decorating his hoof, and simply wiped it off against his coat. “It’s been years since I last bled. It’s but a scratch, but impressive all the same.”

Turning around, he galloped away from Diadem, leaving the filly in his wake once again. Groaning, all Diadem could do was stand and clumsily stumble after him. Yet inwardly she smiled. She knew that the hallway came to an abrupt end right around the corner. Although she couldn’t take on the mysterious fanged unicorn by herself, she did hear the drumming hoofsteps of legionaries rushing down the hallway towards her. He wouldn’t be a match for Cirra’s finest.

“Might as well… give it up,” she said, pausing in the middle for a shallow cough. “You’ve got the Legion’s attention now. You don’t want to be on their bad side.”

Rounding the corner, she came to where the unicorn was quickly scanning the walls for the door. The only escape was a window, but that would be a deadly fall from a hundred feet in the air. Besides, the castle was warded to prevent teleportation spells being used from within, which was why Diadem preferred to use portals.

The unicorn turned to crack one last cocky smile at her. “Believe me, filly, I’ve been through that once before. And while I’d really like to stay and dance again, I really should be going.”

His horn quickly filled with an alarming amount of blue, purple, and gray Arcana, and with a loud bang! he disappeared in a flash. Gasping, Diadem ran to the window and peered through the dusty and grimy glass to see a corresponding flash on the northern hills. Even from this distance, she could see the mysterious unicorn wave to her, as if mocking her efforts, before turning tail and disappearing to the north.

Just then, a trio of Cirran legionaries rounded the corner behind her. One of them, a tall stallion wearing the lorica segmentata of the Cirran Eagle cohorts, rushed over to Diadem’s side. “Miss Diadem! Are you alright? What was that?”

Diadem refused to take her eyes off of the northern hills. “I… I have no idea.” Turning around, she remembered the storeroom she had abandoned, and that the stallion had been hiding near the back—near Star Swirl’s door. “But I think Star Swirl and Commander Hurricane and I should talk.”

Chapter 2: Whispers

Commander Hurricane walked through the open doors of the castle’s arcane storeroom. His eyes slid underneath his helmet from one side to the other, noting every irregularity in mind-boggling detail. At his flanks were the three legionaries who had found Diadem, Star Swirl the Bearded, and Diadem herself. Clover had already retired for the night, and Hurricane didn’t think it necessary to wake her.

“You say that nothing was taken?” Hurricane asked as he picked up a jar full of orange liquid in a hoof. Who the question was meant for was clear enough, and Diadem coughed nervously before shuffling to the front of the group.

“I double-checked everything while I was waiting for you and Star Swirl to show up, Commander,” Diadem answered. Taking a few light and nervous steps, she made her way to Hurricane’s side. “Nothing’s missing from the open shelves, and I checked all the locked doors. They weren’t opened recently.”

“All of them?” Hurricane asked, looking over his shoulder to the aqua filly.

Diadem fidgeted on her hooves. “Yeah… well, all the ones that a pony could really break into.”

“So you didn’t check my door,” Star Swirl observed.

“No, I mean—yeah,” Diadem admitted.

Humming to himself, Star Swirl pulled his usual pipe from his robes and settled it between his lips, immediately lighting it with a shower of sparks from his horn. One of the legionaries in the party shifted uncomfortably.

“Uh, Archmage? Are you sure that’s such a good idea in here?”

Star Swirl glanced at him over his shoulder, and an impish smile pulled at his lips. “Relax, soldier. I know what I’m doing, and I assure you, the most harm anything volatile in this room could do is violently detach your limbs.” Taking the pipe out of his mouth with his magic, he pointed with it towards a few jars of a powdery substance. “Now these here, the tiniest spark will set them off, and the bang is quite climactic.”

The three legionaries shuffled a few feet farther away and glanced nervously among themselves.

Diadem rolled her eyes. “Star Swirl…”

The old stallion chuckled and reinserted the pipe between his lips. “Don’t worry, lads. I’m a professional.”

Hurricane looked over his shoulder, entirely unfazed by what had transpired behind him. “Star Swirl, give me a hoof with this door.”

Tilting his hat to the recovering legionaries, Star Swirl cheerily trotted over to Hurricane. “Pardon me, Commander, you’re standing in front of the lock.”

Hurricane took a few steps to the side and gave Star Swirl room to work. With a sigh, the archmage snuffed his pipe and deposited it back in his robes before taking up position at the door. Widening his stance, the old mage bent his neck down until his long and scraggly white beard was nearly touching the floor. After a few seconds of focus, his horn sparked to life.

As if sensing his presence, a stone panel in the center of the door corkscrewed outwards. Excited, Diadem squeezed past the three soldiers in front of her to get a better look at the door. The stone offshoot was decorated in detailed carvings, etchings, and numbers that fluctuated in color between gold, silver, and white. It looked almost like some sort of fluid was swirling around within the stone canister.

“What is that?” Diadem asked, cocking her head to the side. “You guys’ve never shown me anything like that before.”

“That,” Star Swirl began as his horn began to summon mana, “is pure Arcana. Or, to be more specific, my own Arcana.”

Hurricane noted the swirling and shifting lights with a restrained interest. “I won’t pretend to know much about unicorn magic, Archmage. Why do you have your own Arcana in there?”

Nudging his horn against the edge of the stone cylinder, a small hole opened up, just wide enough to fit a unicorn’s horn. Without a second thought, Star Swirl inserted his and immediately began to concentrate. As he did so, the color of the Arcana flickered and pulsed.

“The Arcana more or less serves as a lock,” the archmage explained. “It is my own, derived from my mana, and as such only my horn functions as the key. The funny thing about Arcana is that it only responds to its creator; that is to say, another unicorn could not manipulate what is in this lock as I can. In fact, it would be quite painful for them to do so.”

Hurricane raised an eyebrow. “It would burn them?”

Star Swirl grunted instead of shaking his head, as his horn was still held in place. “Not quite. If another unicorn were to try and open this door, for example, they would first somehow have to get the keyhole to expose itself. Assuming they could do that, and they placed their horn within, they would immediately suffer acute mana-entanglement leyline feedback.”

The commander blinked.

“What he means is that you’d get a massive headache and you’d probably pass out,” Diadem explained. Rubbing her horn, she added, “I had a run-in with that when I was chasing the guy that was in here. He pressed down a huge amount of Arcana on my horn and completely choked out my leylines. With nowhere for my mana to go, it really kind of hurt, and I blacked out for like a second.” Pressing her hoof to her lips, she thought for a few moments. “Ooh! I know an easy way to explain it! Imagine that you’re constipated—”

“That’s enough,” Hurricane interrupted, holding a hoof up as emphasis. “Thank you, Diadem, I get the picture now.” To Star Swirl, he asked, “So you’re saying that these are impossible to break?”

“Well… not exactly,” Star Swirl admitted. Again the Arcana flickered and shifted in color, this time settling heavily on golden hues. “They can be brute forced, if the unicorn is strong enough to push through the leyline entanglement and create enough of a buffer of their own Arcana to partially fill the chamber and give them something to work with.”

“But this looks like it’s filled with your own,” Hurricane said.

“Yes, this is true. But Arcana is massless and, despite its outward appearance, incorporeal. It can take many forms, but it is most commonly found as pure energy, and energy can be condensed and stored. A theoretically infinite sum of Arcana can be crammed into a specialized vessel designed to hold it. This is what makes the weapon the old Diamond Guard used, Diamond Fyre, so terrifying.”

Hurricane recalled the old and abandoned armory underneath Castle Burning Hearth, where he had discovered a crate of seemingly harmless diamond cubes after Cyclone’s invasion of River Rock. “King Lapis told me twenty years ago that he had outlawed them. I’ve only ever heard rumors of what they can do.”

With a thud, something heavy inside the door clicked, and the Arcana in the stone canister turned white. Relaxing, Star Swirl pulled his horn free of the keyhole and stretched out his neck before responding to Hurricane. “A single three-inch cube of fortified diamond could hold enough Arcana to level a building. Thankfully, finding a perfect fortified diamond that you can cut to such a size is amazingly rare, and they don’t hold all their Arcana for more than a week. It’s a one-use thing, too, as the energy stored inside completely decimates the gem when it’s released. Couple that with the fact that a fortified diamond holds the most Arcana when it’s a virgin to charging, and you’ve got the basis for a weapon too inefficient to mass-produce.”

Pushing in on the extended stone canister, Star Swirl nodded to Hurricane. “What’s beyond this door is private, Commander. I trust you and Diadem enough to take a look, but send your soldiers elsewhere. We won’t be needing them there.”

Nodding, Hurricane glanced towards the three legionaries and pointed with a wing. The three of them saluted and turned around, careful not to bump into anything potentially dangerous lining the shelves on their way out.

When he was sure that they were gone, Star Swirl twisted his hoof to rotate the center of the door. With a series of heavy clacks and thuds, the door began to spiral in wider and wider rings until the entire circular doorframe seemed to be spinning. Then, with a volley of staccato clicks, each ring came to a stop, shedding dust from their cracks. Something heavy jolted out of place behind the door, and following the screeching of metal on metal, the entire room became silent again.

“Do mind yourselves while we are inside, my fellow ponies,” Star Swirl said, his Arcana spreading across the door’s surface. “There’s something inside that would agitate me to great extent were it to be broken.”

“I understand, Star Swirl,” Hurricane replied. “I’m more than a little interested myself as to what you’ve been hiding here these past five years that I’ve never heard about until now.”

Though his voice was calm, Diadem noticed Hurricane carefully unlatch the hilt of his legendary sword, the Gladius Procellarum, from its scabbard. His weight shifted to the tips of his hooves and his muscles tensed, ready to leap into combat if something were to attack him. If Star Swirl saw, he didn’t express any concern. Diadem, for the most part, was practically bouncing on the tips of her hooves to see what was past the door.

With a heavy groan, the thick stone door parted at the middle, revealing a dark and circular room. As Star Swirl crossed the threshold, several mana torches flickered to life along the walls, illuminating the simple stonework that defined the room’s circular boundaries. There were a few shelves on one side, built into an alcove in the walls, and a simple workstation near them. In the center of the room was a large, round table, trimmed with gold and holding an empty support on top of it.

Diadem forgot that she was a sensible filly of fifteen and squeezed between the two stallions like her ten year old self again. When inside, it was all she could do to not run laps around the ring in her excitement. Instead, she bounded over towards the nearest shelf and began looking over its contents with intense scrutiny.

“What sort of things are we looking for?” Hurricane asked. “What do you even keep here that’s so special?”

Star Swirl floated his hat onto a peg near the door, the bells on its brim making a slight ringing sound as they settled into place. “Rare magical components, dangerous elixirs, and other sorts of trinkets that I’ve taken a fondness to in my later years.” Glancing over to Diadem, his horn lit as he grabbed onto the filly’s tail with his magic and dragged her backwards. “Look, but do not touch.”

Diadem stuck out her lower lip and pouted. “I’m just trying to see the sorts of things you have here! Like this container of alicorn or these pickled dragon hearts…” Her face paled, and she worriedly turned to Star Swirl. “How did you get these?”

“An old colleague of mine gave them to me… what was it, fifty years ago?” He shook his head, struggling to remember. “His name was Wintershimmer the Complacent, although Wintershimmer the Ruthless or Wintershimmer the Morally Questionable would have suited him for titles just fine.”

“How bad?” Hurricane asked, taking his turn to investigate the otherwise outlawed magical ingredients.

Star Swirl tapped his chin to his hoof. “There was the one time around fifty-nine years ago when Wintershimmer tried to graft a horn onto some homeless earth pony who ‘just happened to be wandering the dungeons of the castle by his lonesome’. I won’t say that I don’t wake up in the middle of the night every now and then to the screaming. I was quite relieved when King Lapis stripped his titles and exiled him from the Diamond Kingdom.” Sighing, he walked over to the shelves and levitated the canister of alicorn closer to his face, inspecting it. “Still, there are some things that one doesn’t just throw away. Alicorn and wyrmling hearts are two of the most powerful spell ingredients in the world, if you’re looking to do a little necromancy.”

“Why would you ever want to do that?” Diadem asked from where she still sat on the ground. “Isn’t it illegal anyway?”

Star Swirl shook his head. “The raising of the dead is illegal, but not communing with them. The problem is that most ponies aren’t worth the cost of doing so.” He tapped the crushed alicorn with a hoof for emphasis before placing it back on the shelf.

Hurricane stepped away from the shelf and began to sift through the objects on Star Swirl’s workstation. “So what exactly is it that we’re looking for? You don’t have any of that Diamond Fyre in here that I should be concerned about?”

“No, no, they’re all accounted for,” he said, rattling a wooden crate with several clear diamonds in it. “All twelve of them.”

The commander stared at Star Swirl with as flat an expression as flat could be.

The unicorn for his part simply ignored Hurricane and moved to the table in the center. He rested a hoof on one of the legs of the support in the middle, which was obviously designed to cradle something. His horn lit up and danced over the support, twisting and turning it within the table until a compartment popped open underneath.

Diadem craned her neck towards the noise, but she couldn’t see what it was that Star Swirl had opened. Instead, all she saw was a greater and greater expression of worry settle across his face. Setting down a calcified bone that had probably belonged to a Crystal warlord at some point (and was probably another remnant of Wintershimmer’s days in River Rock), she trotted over to the elder mage. “What’s wrong? Is something missing?”

Star Swirl pursed his lips and nodded. “Yes, something is indeed missing, and what’s missing is what concerns me the most.”

Hurricane abandoned his search of the workstation and hurried over to Star Swirl. “What did he take?”

Sighing, the archmage levitated out a large wooden box with felt lining the cut out of what would have housed a large sphere. “He took Electrum’s Orb.”

Diadem took a step back, but Hurricane cocked his head. “Electrum was a king, wasn’t he? I don’t know anything else about him.”

Star Swirl nervously took his pipe out of his robes and began to draw on it. “Electrum was one of the great kings of the Diamond Kingdom, the last of the Wise Five. Not only was he a wise ruler and powerful mage, but he was cunning. He reigned during one of the most tumultuous times in unicorn history and thwarted a dozen different assassination attempts with nothing but his own skill.” Pacing, Star Swirl released a large plume of smoke into the air before facing Hurricane again. “Skill and magical trickery, that’s what. You know what the Scourge of Kings is? Lapis IV had it and Platinum II died from it not too long ago.”

Hurricane nodded. “It rots a unicorn’s horn until it’s completely destroyed and toxic. You’re saying this has something to do with Electrum?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Star Swirl affirmed. “The legend goes that Electrum brought the Scourge down on the noble family when he tried to look into the future to protect himself from these assassinations. His horn grew black and gnarled and he became so weak that in the end, it wasn’t an assassin’s dagger that killed him, but the common cold.”

Diadem rested an elbow on Star Swirl’s workstation and in turn placed her head in her hoof. “I bet that was a shock when Electrum saw his own death when he looked to the future.”

“And the Orb?” Hurricane prompted, examining the table. “What does that have to do with this?”

Star Swirl thought for a few moments, sucking on his pipe all the while. “Electrum fashioned his Orb years before he attempted to see into the future. It’s a crystal ball, made from the finest of diamonds. You need only look into it and whisper a name, and you will see that pony, wherever they may be, no matter what they’re doing. It’s how Electrum rooted out traitors in his own circle before they could have the chance to end him.”

“I see,” Hurricane muttered. The implications of so powerful an artifact being stolen were beyond measure. If his hunch was correct, and there were more to these riots than just simple anger… “How did you manage to get your hooves on it?”

“It was given to the Archmage of River Rock two hundred years ago by the royal family and simply forgotten about,” Star Swirl answered. “My predecessors passed it down to their apprentices when they became the new archmage, and by this method it eventually found its way into my hooves. I would have passed it on to Clover when she takes on the full duties of being Everfree’s chief archmage, but now I’m not sure if I can.”

“And Platinum doesn’t know about this?”

The mage shook his head. “My predecessors realized that keeping such power away from the hooves of the royal family would benefit the Diamond Kingdom in the long run. As such, it is imperative that Platinum never find out about this.” Realizing that he had burnt out the last of his tobacco, Star Swirl grumbled and tucked the pipe back in his robes. “And it is likewise important that we recover it from our thief, no matter the cost.”

Hurricane looked at the empty stand on the table for a few seconds longer. “Diadem,” he suddenly began, causing the filly to jerk away from Star Swirl’s shelves. “Do we have an idea where this thief could be heading?”

Diadem bit her lip. “Well, not really. I mean, when he escaped, he ran to the north, but I don’t have any idea where he could’ve gone in the meantime.”

The commander sighed and mulled it over for a few seconds. “I’ll have to track him myself then.”

The aqua filly cocked her head. “Yourself? Why not have some of your soldiers go track him down? I mean, you’ve got a ton of them.”

Hurricane shook his head. “An army moves too slowly and is too noticeable. This is a job for a hoofful of ponies, but if this unicorn could somehow break into Star Swirl’s locked room and brute force his way through the teleportation wards on the castle, then he’s way out of the league of ordinary legionaries.”

“But you’re just one pony!” Diadem protested.

A smirk pulled at the corners of Hurricane’s lips. “I’m still the single best soldier in the Legion, Diadem. That isn’t a generalization, that’s a fact. Plus,” he added, tapping his onyx armor, “no other legionary has magic resistant armor such as myself.”

“Very well,” Star Swirl said. “Take the box with you so nothing happens to the orb when it’s recovered. I’ll get some things together for you before you go.”

Hurricane raised a hoof. “You needn’t worry about that, Archmage. I’m more than capable of taking care of my own preparations.”

Star Swirl shook his head. “I insist. Besides, the sooner you’re off, the sooner the orb will be recovered. I find it hard to rest knowing that every second it’s getting further away from here. I’d rather not be remembered in the history books as the archmage that lost Electrum’s Orb.” He paused. “Or let it bring about our young nation’s destruction. That’s important too.”

Nodding, Hurricane took the box and tucked it under his wing. “I need to inform Typhoon and Twister about this. I’ll leave tomorrow morning and be back within the week. Orb or not, I can’t be away from Equestria for long if these riots keep up.”

“I wish you the best of luck, Hurricane,” Star Swirl said, clasping his hooves together. “May Celestis watch over your journeys and Lunis keep you safe at night. With their divine favor, perhaps you will be able to find our thief.”

Hurricane tilted his head. “If Celeste and Lūn are willing, then I’ll be home in three days,” he responded. “Then I can keep this place from falling apart.”

Taking one last look at Star Swirl’s storeroom and all the oddities it contained, Hurricane skirted around the archmage and disappeared down the hall. Star Swirl waited for him to leave before walking to Diadem and sitting down next to her, aged limbs popping and squeaking with arthritis.

“Ooof!” the mage grunted as he came to a rough stop on the hard floor. “It’s tough being old, Diadem, dear. Sun and Stars be damned if I have to use a walker to get around.”

Diadem giggled a little and looked at the table. Her eyes traced the contours of the empty stand for Electrum’s Orb, and she frowned. “Star Swirl?”

The stallion raised an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

Diadem rubbed a hoof behind her mane. “Did you ever use the Orb to spy on anypony?”

Star Swirl thought long and hard before answering. “There were times, yes, when I fed the Orb names and saw what it conjured. It never failed me, not once.”

The filly’s eyes widened. “Really? Who did you look up?”

Star Swirl chuckled and shook his head. “Platinum, her father, politicians, rivals, the list went on.” He stopped and sighed. “Those were my younger days. But I stopped when I became wiser. I had no right to intrude on the personal lives of other ponies; whatever their business was, it was not of my concern. I put the Orb aside before it could change who I was. I would rather live life as a happy, blind old stallion than a paranoid and shifty figure who watches everypony from the shadows.”

Standing up, Star Swirl nudged Diadem with a foreleg. “Come on, now. We should be going; I need to close this storeroom before we have any more thieves running amok through here. The Orb may have been the most important thing here, but there are plenty of other things I’d be rather worried about were they to leave these walls.”

Scrambling to her hooves, Diadem bounded along at Star Swirl’s side as they made towards the exit. “Will you ever let me back in here, Star Swirl? You’ve got so many neat things I’d love to take a look at sometime.”

The archmage chuckled. “Maybe one day, Diadem. When I die, this room will be Clover’s, and then someday I’m sure she will pass it on to you.” Turning around at the doorframe, his horn came to life and pulled the two halves back together. The stone cylinders ringing it all twisted and spiraled. Several heavy booms meant the locks had slid back into place, and Star Swirl sealed it with a final charge. Then, turning back to Diadem, he smiled and continued onwards. “In the meantime, we should get some rest. It is getting fairly late, after all, and I’ve got something fun for you to work on in the morning.”

Diadem’s eyes lit up. “Really? What is it?”

Star Swirl smiled. “Clover and I decided we’d transfer our void battery project to you. You’re right when you say that you’re capable of handling it better than we can. Now, this is a huge undertaking for an apprentice, but we’re both confident that you can learn something valuable from it.”

The filly was practically launching herself through the air. “Oooooh thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!” She blurted to Star Swirl. “Thank you so much! I promise I won’t let you guys down! Just you wait and see!” Hopping along with excitement, she left the storeroom and bounded down the halls towards her bedroom.

The old stallion watched her go, a smile on his face. “There’s greatness in you yet, little filly,” he murmured after her as her teal tail disappeared around the corner.

The lone legionary stalked his target in the dying light of the evening. He had been following him for days now, looking for the perfect opportunity to strike. It had been hard; he’d almost been caught a few times, and only the careful dodge behind nearby cover had hid him from his foe. Now, however, his target was tired, distracted, and tantalizingly within reach.

Checking his armor, the legionaries unlatched his gladius and began to prowl through the tall grass, careful not to make a sound. His centurion had told him that the griffons had senses sharp as knives, and they could pick up the smallest rustle of foliage or the tiniest squeak of skysteel from a mile away. The legionaries had fought griffons before, but that was when he had his entire centuria with him. Now, it was just the soldier and the griffon, alone in a field just south of Stratopolis.

When he was within ten feet of the griffon, he stopped. The griffon perked its head up as if it had just heard something, and the legionary felt his heart freeze as it glanced in his direction. He was almost sure that the beast had seen him, but his fears were soon assuaged when it grumbled incoherently and turned back to the scroll it held in its talons. There its attention stayed, and the soldier breathed a little easier.

Reaching for the handle of his sword, the legionary smoothly and silently drew the weapon. His bladed wings flexed with anticipation, and he took a hesitant step forward. When the griffon didn’t notice him, he took another. And another. And another.

He was barely five feet away now, and the griffon was well within his reach. Taking a deep breath, the legionary prepared himself for the grisly business to come next. As thunderheads rolled in from the west and began to rumble in the distance, he released his coiled muscles and leapt at the griffon with a fearsome war cry.

The impact was square and solid, and the beast let loose a cry of surprise as it fell over. Together the two of them tumbled across the ground, fighting to gain the upper hand. After rolling a few feet away, the legionary finally came out on top, and he pressed his sword against the griffon’s neck.

“Any last words, evil beast?” the legionary roared, his voice mighty and heroic. “Speak them before I cut off your head!”

The griffon’s eyes flared with anger before quickly turning to amusement. “Oh no, little pony,” it responded in surprisingly clear Cirran. “You’re the one who should be praying to your gods.”

With a sudden burst of strength, the griffon forced the legionary off of it and stood up. Growling, the soldier turned and swung his gladius at the griffon with all his might. Instead of it connecting, however, the blade passed within inches of the griffon’s exposed neck as it took a deft step backwards. Lunging forward, the griffon flipped the Cirran onto his back and stepped down on his chest. Try as he might, the soldier couldn’t escape, and his vain struggles only seemed to amuse the griffon.

Eyes wide and bloodshot from strangulation, the soldier could only watch in fear as the griffon drew its talons across his throat.

“That’s another dead legionary to the pile,” Twister commented as she stepped away from the colt she had pinned to the floor. Cracking her neck, the Cirran legatus returned to her chair and sorted through the scrolls on her desk.

Scrambling to his hooves, the colt, a light blue pegasus with a mane of brown, black, and white streaks, stuck his tongue out at her. “I almost had you! I wanted to give you a fair fight is all!”

Twister smiled and turned towards the colt. “A good legionary doesn’t waste time to gloat over their victories, Tempest. And you don’t try to take a griffon prisoner when you’re by yourself. They’ll overpower you every time.”

Frowning, Tempest scurried over to his wooden sword on stubby legs and picked it up. Feeling the handle of the toy weapon in his mouth, he gave it a few quick swings, nearly falling over in the process. Growling at a stuffed legionary in the corner of the room, he swung at it a few times, easily besting the soldier in combat. Turning back to Twister, he dropped the sword at his hooves and sat down on his haunches.

“I’m gonna be the best soldier in the Legion, Aunt Twister! Just wait! And I’m gonna protect everypony from the griffons and the barbarians and keep the Empire safe!” Smiling, Tempest flopped onto his back and let his short wings flitter against the carpet.

Twister, a middle-aged mare with a brown coat and fading black mane, watched Tempest with her sharp, gold eyes. “I’m sure you will, honey. I can’t wait to see what a fine soldier you’ll turn out to be.”

There was a knock on the door, and Twister set aside her scrolls and adjusted the legatus cloak she wore over her shoulder. “Come in,” she commanded in a crisp voice, one that she had learned from many years as Cirra’s primary diplomat. Pressing her forehooves together, she laid them bare on the desk in an acceptably professional fashion.

The door opened with a low squeak as Typhoon entered, her expression weary and her face covered with dust and grime. The gold trim on her armor was hidden under a layer of dirt, and her wings drooped with exhaustion. Closing the door behind her, she took off her helmet and hung it on a peg right inside of Twister’s door.

Twister smiled and quickly trotted over to hug her niece. “Good to see you, Typhoon. Gods, you look like a mess.”

Typhoon nodded and separated from Twister’s embrace. “Another day, another riot is what I say. I finally managed to sort out today’s mess and get everypony off the streets. Hopefully it’ll be another few weeks before we have to do this again.”

At the sound of Typhoon’s voice, Tempest’s head shot up, and he clambered to his hooves. “Mommy!” he shouted, completely abandoning his toys as he bounded over to his mother.

A brilliant, happy smile spread across Typhoon’s face, and she immediately bent down to wrap her son in her wings. “Oh it’s so good to see you, my little soldier!” she cooed, rubbing her cheek against his. As Tempest melted against her chest, she only hugged him tighter and nuzzled him closely. “Did you kill any griffons today?”

“Almost,” Tempest answered in a little squeak. Frowning at Twister, he added, “But the griffon got me, though.”

Typhoon tousled Tempest’s mane. “I’m sure you’ll get ‘em next time. After all, a Cirran is never defeated, only delayed.” Rubbing his back with a wing, Typhoon pointed with a hoof towards the toy sword. “Is that how a true legionary treats their weapon?”

Pushing away from his mother, Tempest shook his head. “No, ma’am!” Scampering away on his little legs, the colt picked up his sword and slid it into a loop of rope around his shoulders that served as a scabbard. “Me and Virga are unstoppable together!”

The Praetorian nodded and gave Tempest a salute. “Ante Legionem nihil erat.”

Tempest immediately outstretched his forehoof and spread his wings in the Cirran salute. “Et nihil erit post Legionem!” he proudly exclaimed, reciting the words his family had taught him relentlessly since he could speak.

Typhoon smiled and stood up, stretching her armored back as she did so. “Thanks for watching him for me, Twister,” she said. “Dad dumped his share of command onto me for the day so he could take care of his meeting with the others.”

Twister waved her hoof. “It’s not a problem, Typhoon. I’m always more than happy to watch after little Tempest for you when you’re out, as long as he doesn’t get into my paperwork.” Sighing, she ran a hoof through her frazzled mane and stared down the pile of scrolls covering every inch of her desk.

“And for that I’m really thankful,” Typhoon said, placing a hoof on Twister’s shoulder. “The nannies only keep after him until I’m supposed to be off-duty. He’s still young enough that he needs somepony to watch over him while I’m not there.”

Twister dipped her head. “I understand, Typhoon, but really now.” Turning to face the mare directly, Twister hardened her expression. “Shouldn’t you at least consider finding a stallion to help raise him with you? He needs a father figure.”

Typhoon shuddered and forced down unpleasant memories of a dark cell underneath a castle in River Rock. “I’m sorry Twister, I—I just can’t. Not after what I’ve been through. I don’t think I could ever share a bed with a stallion and not sleep with one eye open after that.” She shuddered again. “Mobius, I was only seventeen. I don’t think I could have ever known something like this would happen to me.”

She took a few steps away from Twister to watch Tempest play with his toys in the corner of the legatus’ office. Typhoon couldn’t ever be sure which stallion had fathered him—there hadn’t been much of a break between them in those days—but in her heart she knew who it was. Him, the one with the sapphire coat and silvery mane who had been so cruel and the source of all of Typhoon’s agony. Instinctually she felt for the scar across the right half of her face that Jewel had branded her with. That unicorn and his golden eyes haunted her dreams every night. At the very least, Tempest had been born a pegasus and had inherited his mother’s magenta eyes, although Jewel’s blue coat and whitish mane were still very much present.

If he had been born a unicorn with those golden eyes…

Typhoon shook her head, and a smile slowly crept across her lips as she watched Tempest play. Jewel had given her something she never wanted, but she made Tempest her own and loved him with all her heart. Whenever Tempest asked why all the other foals had fathers and he didn’t, Typhoon only hugged him close and told him that his father had died long before he was born. It wasn’t exactly the answer Tempest wanted, but it was the only one Typhoon could give him. Maybe one day when he was older, she’d tell him the truth, but for now, it was best to give him the half-truth and distract him with stories about Grandpa Hurricane and his accomplishments during the Red Cloud War.

Turning around, Typhoon cleared her head of such thoughts. “So, Twister, what’s new lately? I don’t even know what you do half the time now that you don’t have to deal with the other two tribes.”

Twister sighed and shrugged her wings. “Don’t worry, Typhoon, there’s always something to keep me busy. And don’t think that it’s gotten easier since Equestria was founded. I still have to bounce back and forth between all the other diplomats in Parliament. It’s hard being minority leader and balancing the issues of the pegasi against that of the earth ponies and unicorns.” Grumbling, she reclaimed her seat and fidgeted with the placard on her desk proclaiming her as Equestria’s parliamentary minority leader. “Representative Carrot Cake only got majority leader because there’re more earth ponies in the electorate. It’s hard to have a representational system that covers everypony’s needs when everypony only votes for the members of their own race.”

Typhoon grunted as if she understood what Twister was griping about. “I don’t envy you, Twister. Politics is just a cloak and dagger way of killing a pony rather than the sword and shield. I don’t know how you ponies put up with each other and do what you do; I’d be as lost as a recruit in the middle of the battlefield if I ever tried my hoof at it.”

Twister raised an eyebrow at Typhoon. “Your father isn’t going to live forever, Typhoon. When he’s gone, it’s your job to take over all of Cirra’s politicking with the other race leaders. Believe me, it’ll be just as bad as serving in parliament.”

The manila mare groaned and rolled her eyes. “Looking forward to it.”

Twister smiled and placed a hoof on Typhoon’s cuirass. “I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it quickly, Ty. Can you BS?”

Typhoon raised an eyebrow. “BS? You’re asking the wrong mare, Aunt. I’m not a good liar.”

The legatus took a deep breath and settled back down in her chair. “Oh Mobius, have mercy on this poor mare.”

“Right,” Typhoon sarcastically replied. Shaking her head, she fussed with a few strands of her mane and separated them back into their like colors. Finding a seat near Twister’s mahogany desk, Typhoon quickly pulled it over and flopped down in it, happily sighing as she decompressed from the day’s stress. She opened her wings and let them hang limply by her sides, the leading blades on the wingblade assemblies scraping against the floor.

She got about five seconds of rest before a ball of fur and feathers slammed into her chest, causing her to jolt back and cough. Looking down, she saw Tempest standing squarely on her chest, his toy sword inches from her neck.

“I got you!” he squeaked, trying to sound tough and hold back his giggles. “Prepare to die!”

Typhoon feigned fear and held her hooves in front of her face. “No, please, sir! I’m too young to die!”

“Cirra’s enemies deserve no mercy!” Tempest declared. Biting down on his sword, he drew the flat wooden blade across Typhoon’s neck with a grim finality. The Praetorian gasped and dropped her head back, pretending to be dead for a few seconds, before she sat upright and hugged her son close against her body. She kissed the top of his head several times and angled his chin so he would look right at her.

“You’re gonna be a fine soldier one day, Tempest,” she declared, rubbing the little colt’s head. “And mommy’s going to be so proud of you.”

Tempest giggled and nuzzled his mother. Then, Typhoon set the colt on the floor and patted his head. “Get your things and say goodbye to Aunt Twister. It’s time to get you to bed.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwww,” Tempest pouted. He promptly plopped onto the floor and gave his mom the most indignantly disappointed look he could muster. “But I’m not tiiiiiiirrrreeeeeed.”

“You will be by the time we get back home,” Typhoon responded. Standing up, she ushered Tempest over to his toys. “Come on now, you’ve got a big day ahead of you. Mommy’s going to take you to the barracks so you can see the legionaries train.”

His ears perked up, and Tempest hopped into the air, his tiny wings buzzing in vain to keep him aloft. “Yay! Are you going to be training any of the soldiers, Mommy?”

Typhoon shrugged her shoulders. “We’ll see, little guy. Depends on what needs to be done tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Tempest answered, sounding unsure of whether he should be excited or disappointed. He waddled over to his toys in the corner of Twister’s office and began to scoop them up, balancing the larger ones across his outstretched and stubby wings.

Typhoon watched her little one gather his things for a moment before turning back to Twister and giving the mare a hug. “Thanks again for everything, Twister. I promise, the next time you and Echo need me to look after Gust and Squall, I’ll be happy to repay the favor.”

Twister put a hoof up to Typhoon’s lips. “Don’t worry about it, Ty. The kids are getting old enough that we don’t have to look after them all the time. Squall turned thirteen while you were out in the field last month, remember?”

The Praetorian nodded. “I remember. Did she enjoy the emerald necklace I got for her when I was in the Union?”

“Oh, she loves the thing,” Twister said. “She wears it every day. I know she’s not turning out to be the military cousin that you wanted when you were younger, but she’ll make a fine wife to some lucky stallion someday.”

“Heh,” Typhoon breathed. “I suppose it’ll be nice to have some civilians in the family for once.”

Twister nodded. “And it means that I don’t have to worry about her dying someplace far from home. You don’t know how much I worry about you and your father.”

Typhoon didn’t have anything to add to that. Twister understood her life far better than most civilians, especially the earth ponies and unicorns, but nopony outside of the Legion would truly know it like she did. Being the next-highest Praetorian behind Hurricane, Typhoon didn’t have many other ponies she could call real friends in the Legion. The only pony she could really talk to about her feelings was her father, but he wasn’t around all that often as the leader of the pegasus faction. Twister was the closest pony she had to an outlet, but even then, sometimes it wasn’t enough.

Sighing, Typhoon imperceptibly shook her head. It was times like those that she really missed Cyclone.

Just then, there was a cough at the door, accompanied by a brisk knock. Both mares turned to see Hurricane standing in the door, his expression business. As he entered, Typhoon immediately saluted, while Twister bowed her head.

“Hurricane?” Twister asked as she stood back to full height. “I didn’t expect to see you here this late. How are you?”

Hurricane shrugged, the skysteel along his wings rattling gently. “I’ve been better. You know what I’ve been having to deal with lately.” Coughing, he shrugged again. “Anyways, I came to tell you—!”

The tall, graying pegasus grunted as Tempest latched onto his leg and squeezed. “Grandpa! You missed me being a super-awesome legionary!”

Hurricane’s rigid demeanor gently melted as he bent down to scoop up his grandson. “Did I, now?” he asked, placing his hooves on Tempest’s sides. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to see it. You’ll show me again later, right?”

The foal nodded and picked up his sword. “Mmhmm! Mommy said she was going to take me to the barracks tomorrow! I get to see the soldiers train!” Folding his ears back, he let out a long, tired yawn, and his eyelids fluttered with exhaustion.

Hurricane patted Tempest on the head. “Exciting! I’m sure they’ll love to see you there.” Rubbing his hoof through the foal’s mane one last time, he gently backed away and approached Twister and Typhoon.

It didn’t take her father’s sigh for Typhoon to see he was deeply agitated. Brushing a wing against his, she sidled up beside him. “What’s wrong?” she whispered in a voice too soft for Tempest to hear.

“Something’s come up,” Hurricane muttered. “I need to discuss plans with you and Twister.”

Typhoon’s face turned grave, and she stepped back, nodding in understanding. “I see. Can it wait until I’ve put Tempest to bed?”

Hurricane waved his hoof. “Of course, of course. I’ll meet you in the courtyard when you’re finished.”

Saluting, Typhoon walked past Hurricane and knelt down next to Tempest. Extending a wing, she let the little colt wearily climb onto her armored back, deflecting her wingblades downwards so he wouldn’t accidentally cut himself. When Tempest sprawled across her shoulders and neck, Typhoon gave him a little kiss and whispered, “Say goodbye to Grandpa and Aunt Twister.”

“G’bye, Gran’pa,” Tempest muttered as his eyes threatened to close on him. “G’bye, Aunt Twister.”

Twister kissed his forehead and Hurricane tousled his mane. “Get some sleep, kiddo,” the mare said. “You’ve got some big adventures ahead of you tomorrow.” Hurricane merely nodded to him, and mouthing a last goodbye, Typhoon grabbed her helmet and placed it on her head before disappearing down the stone halls, her son already dozing off on her back.

The two siblings stood in Twister’s office for several silent seconds before the legatus sighed and began to file away her papers. Hurricane turned to her and raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly. “I’m glad I’ve got a secretary to take care of that for me.”

“You think that’s what I’m missing?” Twister grumbled, standing straight. She shook her wings a few times to try and get her primaries back in line, but all she did was knock out a few secondaries around the gap she had made in her wings from pulling quills. “I have three, for all the good they do me.”

Hurricane scoffed and shook his head. “You’re definitely efficient at what you do, though.”

Slamming a drawer closed and slapping a heavy lock on it, Twister leaned on her hips. “I weighed everything, once. Five pounds of parchment moves through my hooves every day. The keratin on my hooves has literally bled before. That shouldn’t even be possible!”

Hurricane chuckled at his sister’s signature hyperbole. “You might want to get that checked out sometime.”

“What time?” the legatus grumbled. “If I leave my office for five minutes to take a leak, there’s twenty new scrolls on my desk. Gods only know what’ll happen if I leave for a whole day.”

Grunting, Twister angrily stuffed the last of the scrolls in a bin under her desk and locked it shut as well. Turning to Hurricane, the brown mare sighed, letting her long, black mane spill down her shoulders. “Things were simpler when other ponies didn’t try to steal from you.”

Hurricane raised his eyebrow while Twister gathered her things from a pile in the corner of the office. “Steal from you? You’ve had a problem with that?”

“No,” Twister flatly answered. “Not since I caught two earth pony lackeys snooping around my office a few months ago.” Tapping the scabbard with the golden hilt sticking out of it, she smiled. “I don’t know how to use a sword, and I don’t think this thing could cut, either, but seeing a pegasus dressed in full armor with a red robe and a sword coming at you… you tend to freak out if you’re an earth pony.”

The Cirran commander casually laughed, a deep and reverberating sound that filled the small office with its easiness. “At least you can pull the look of a legionary.” Seeing that his sister had gathered her things, Hurricane gestured towards the door with a wing. “Come, we’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

“You’re telling me,” Twister said, glancing over her shoulder as she led the way down the hall. “I hardly ever see your handsome face anymore. You’re too busy tangling with the Crystals in the northeast nowadays.” A concerned look spread over her face, and she stopped to look Hurricane squarely in the eye. “What’s going on with that, anyway? All I see is the requisition orders, yet I know when a legion’s getting stocked.”

Hurricane sighed. “Equestria is expanding faster than we anticipated. We’ve got land between here and Platinum’s Landing, but with the forest in the west and the badlands to the south, there aren’t that many other options for the steady stream of settlers we seem to be producing.” Flexing his wingblades, Hurricane let one drag along the stone walls, showering the ground in sparks. “Ponies are moving north, right into Jade’s lands, and claiming them for Equestria. What do we do if she responds? Abandon them, or defend them?”

Twister pursed her lips in thought. “And have you three tried curtailing the expansion of the settlers?”

“Believe me, we’ve tried,” Hurricane muttered. “The legions that are up there now were originally there to turn back the stubborn ponies who still tried to move north. Of course, that didn’t make things better at all.” Using his wings for balance, Hurricane made air-quotes with his forehooves. “Free expansion! Land for Equestria, land for me!” He shook his head. “We don’t need to make this another problem trying to split the nation at the seams.”

“Have Smart Cookie negotiate with Queen Jade, then!” Twister exclaimed. “He and her are pretty… well, erm, close, if the diplomats are to be believed. I’m sure you can work something out!”

“Believe me, Twist, I’m trying every day.” He shook his head. “But I’ll be damned if it comes to war. We’re too fragile to sustain a lengthy conflict, and we need them, whether or not the ponies of Equestria realize it.”

The legatus shook her head. “And what can you do, Hurricane? You have to be able to do something!”

“I have been doing what I can,” Hurricane said, raising his hooves to defend himself. “I’ve slowed deployments and rerouted supplies, but sooner or later the earth pony-led parliament is going to vote for war.” Cursing under his breath, Hurricane crushed a small pebble under his hoof. “I don’t like the Legion being taken out of my control, Twister. It’s not a tool for the politicians to use; it’s the heart and soul of Cirra.”

Twister nodded, bumping into her brother’s shoulder as a show of support. “I hear you, Cane. I’m doing my best to help you out, but it’s hard to get anything done when you’re in the minority.”

Hurricane sighed and angrily shook his head. His wings extended, flexed, and then settled against his sides, trembling and smoldering as they bled off his excess anger. “Thanks. But that’s not important right now. There’s something more important I need to talk to you and Typhoon about.”

“As I’m no doubt aware,” Twister responded. Rounding a corner, the two pegasi cut across an open stone foyer before making their way into the courtyard enclosed within the castle walls. The colonnades were impressively tall and immaculately textured, chiseled and polished so fine that their edges were crisper than razors and their faces smoother than silk. A covered walkway surrounded the edges of the courtyard, leading back into the castle, but over the grass of the courtyard itself there was nothing but the grand indigo of the early night sky. Wandering over to a bench of birch wood erected between two tall trees and a flower bed, the pegasi sat down and waited for Typhoon to join them.

Twister sighed with relief and spread her soft, brown wings across the back of the bench, letting the cool night air seep through her feathers. Somewhere nearby, crickets chirped, and an owl hooted from one of the trees. Despite the riot earlier in the day, the night was calm, and the last of the fires had finally been put out. The mare smiled to herself; Typhoon had done a great job saving a perfect night such as this.

Beside her, Hurricane seemed to be enjoying the brief respite as well. He had placed his onyx helmet in the grass next to him and had laid his sword at his rear hooves. With a few quick snaps he stripped the wingblades from his crests and laid them down beside his sword, letting his faded black feathers flex and shake off the day’s sweat. As they brushed by her side, Twister noticed that the silver gradient towards their tips was starting to become a duller gray with age.

“I love nights like this,” Twister murmured, leaning back over the bench. Pointing a hoof to the sky, she began to trace constellations. “Mobius’ Shield… Grabacr’s Storm… Strigon’s Wings…” She pointed her hoof towards another cluster of stars. “Galm’s Chariot, or as the earth ponies call it, the Big Dipper.”

“Big Dipper,” Hurricane mused to himself. “That’s a name for a constellation, alright.”

“It’s supposed to look like a ladle or something from what I’ve heard.”

“Yeah, maybe if you squint.” Hurricane chuckled, and he drew his hooves across his chest and sighed. “I remember nights like this back home.”

A sad smile pulled at Twister’s lips. “I do too, Cane. We had such a clear view of the sky from our backyard.” She blinked away a wistful tear and instead smiled wider. “The night was so clear and so beautiful. There wasn’t any light pollution from the cities, Mom would be baking raisin bread in the stove, and there’d be nopony out there but us. No responsibilities, no papers, no nothing.” A sad waver accompanied her last sentence. “Just two kids enjoying the night sky.”

Hurricane draped his wing around his sister’s back. “I miss those nights, too. Gods, things were so much simpler back then.” He laughed, shaking his head. “There was no greater empire or Legion then. We were Cirran, but that just meant we were pegasi. Stratopolis was so far away.”

“Every Sunday we’d go down to the lake and swim,” Twister said, bringing back old memories. “We’d bring a picnic, and Mom and Dad would come too, and we’d just spend an entire day there.”

“And Silver Sword lived on the next hill over,” Hurricane said, continuing. “I’d spar with him from time to time, and he’d beat my flank into the ground. Oh, the trouble we used to get into…”

Twister giggled. “Like that one time you two ‘accidentally’ left a thunderhead in the schoolhouse so that you could get off school for a day?” She shook her head. “Thank the gods that thing wasn’t live or you seriously would have killed somepony.”

Hurricane shrugged, smiling. “We were ten and hardly knew better. Still,” he said, letting out an easy breath, “those were the days. What I wouldn’t give to relive them again.”

The legatus bobbed her head in agreement. “Mmhmm.” Then, sighing, she shook her head. “Life has a nasty way of taking things from you.”

“So I’ve learned, Twister,” Hurricane grimly commented. “So I’ve learned.”

The flattening of crisp grass underhoof alerted both siblings to an approaching pony. Looking up, they saw Typhoon approaching them, devoid of armor and letting her short, multicolored mane hang loose. Her wings twitched with a conscious effort to keep them up and by her sides, but even then, the primaries threatened to droop from her exhaustion.

“There you are,” Hurricane said. Standing up, he met his daughter halfway out and gave her a warm embrace. “You look like hell, Typhoon.”

“Thanks, Dad, I’m—” she barely managed to catch a yawn and stifle it with a hoof. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Hurricane smiled and patted her back, leading her to the bench and offering her his seat. “I would imagine. Between your duties and that little scamp running around all day, you’ve certainly got your hooves full.”

Twister made space for Typhoon on the bench as the weary praetorian collapsed onto it. “You got Tempest put to bed?”

Typhoon nodded. “He’s out like a rock. Which is good, considering I’ll be out like one too when we’re done here.” Stifling another yawn, she looked to her father. “So what have I missed?”

“You missed your Aunt and I reminiscing about the old days,” Hurricane said. Stretching his legs one by one, he settled down in the grass. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

“I gathered that,” Typhoon said, closing her eyes for a few brief moments. “Who do you need taken down?”

Twister raised her eyebrow at Typhoon’s question, and she opened a wing in disappointment. “Really, Typhoon, what makes you jump to that conclusion?” Reclining, she shook her head. “Seriously, he would have already taken care of the problem if that’s really what it was.”

Hurricane rolled his eyes. “Right. But that’s not the problem.” Reaching into the saddlebag strapped to his armor, he pulled out the little wooden box he had taken from Star Swirl’s storeroom. “Somepony broke into Star Swirl’s personal storeroom and stole something of incredible importance. I need to get it back before it’s lost forever.”

Typhoon cocked her head. “Somepony got past Star Swirl the Bearded’s lock?” She scratched her chin with a hoof. “Are you sure he isn’t playing games with us?”

Twister laughed. “No, when Star Swirl’s playing a game with you, something in the back of your mind knows even if he’s good at diverting your attention from it.” She stuck her tongue out at a particularly sour memory. “Senile bastard’s gotten me several times. It amuses him.”

“Star Swirl wouldn’t joke about something this important and dangerous,” Hurricane said, forcefully dragging the conversation back on topic. “He lost Electrum’s Orb.”

Twister sat up straighter at that, while Typhoon quickly took on a puzzled look. “Electrum’s Orb? Can’t say I’ve heard of it, and if it’s so powerful and so dangerous, why didn’t Star Swirl tell us about it before?”

Hurricane shrugged. “I can’t say for certain. All I know is what he told me. Electrum’s Orb—”

“Is a powerful magical artifact capable of seeing anypony anywhere in the world at any time,” Twister interrupted. Turning to Hurricane, she nodded at his apparent surprise that she knew about it. “There are things you learn when you spend all day talking to unicorn nobles who try to gain some feeling of self-worth by being some unicorn king’s cousin’s roommate’s brother’s nth grandchild.” She rolled her eyes and turned away slightly. “If these nobles put as much effort into Equestria’s problems as they do with their own genealogy we’d get a heck of a lot more done.”

“Don’t expect that to change anytime soon,” Hurricane muttered. “Regardless, somepony—or something—broke through Star Swirl’s lock and practically waltzed out of the castle with the Orb. Diadem tried to chase it down, but despite her best efforts it eluded her.”

Typhoon angled her head, and her short, colorful mane tumbled to one side. “Hold on a second. Something? What do you mean?”

“From what Diadem told us, our thief was mostly equine, but he had yellow, slitted eyes, a curved horn, and fangs, of all things.” Shaking his head, Hurricane shrugged. “To me, it sounds like some monster out of a foal’s story, or a demon of some kind, but the fact of the matter is that it still managed to break through some powerful magic, including the castle’s teleportation ward, and escape with something incredibly dangerous.”

“So what are we going to do about it?” Twister asked. Her brown hooves clopped together idly, filling the courtyard with a distinctive clicking. “I can make a presentation to the Parliament and maybe get something moving after it—”

Hurricane silenced her by holding out a graying wing. “Star Swirl kept the Orb a secret for a reason. The last thing we need is the politicians finding out about it. If you think our political nightmares are bad enough, that’ll only make things worse.”

Typhoon straightened herself and faced Hurricane squarely. “I can find it for you, sir. I’ll lead a company of Praetorians after him and bring him back to Everfree, piece by piece if we have to.”

“I admire your enthusiasm, Typhoon, but no.” When Typhoon’s wings drooped a fraction of an inch in a crestfallen manner, Hurricane cleared his throat and took a step forward over the springy summer grass. “I trust your abilities, but I cannot let you go on a wild goose chase such as this. You’re the second in command of the entire Cirran Legion. With the way Equestria has been lately, it needs you to help settle these riots peacefully.” Reaching out with a wing, he rested it across his daughter’s shoulders, almost feeling her exhaustion. “Besides, Tempest needs you. You’re his mother, and you can’t dump him off on Twister all the time.”

Twister smiled. “Oh, don’t listen to the old fool, Ty, I’d be more than happy to watch him for you. He’s always welcome at my place; my daughters love him.”

Typhoon laughed. “I know they do. But still, Dad’s right. Much as I hate to admit it, I’ve got too many responsibilities in Everfree to take care of.” Then, turning to Hurricane, she narrowed her magenta eyes at him. “Then what are we going to do? Are you going to go after him?”

She didn’t know whether to be surprised or not that he actually nodded.

“I’m going after him, and I’ll take him down by myself,” he said. His voice was so casual and flat that he might as well have been ordering breakfast. When Typhoon opened her mouth to protest, he simply held up his hoof. “I can travel faster and quieter by myself. My best bet lies in catching this thief and taking him down when he’s not expecting it. Maybe I’ll find who he’s working for in the process.” Stepping back, he bent down and picked up his scabbard, strapping it to the side of his armor. “Then I’ll take a cohort with me and clean the place out.”

Typhoon still looked unconvinced. “You remember what happened the last time you went on some wayward quest by yourself into the wilderness. Cloudsdale burned, Cyclone and I nearly killed each other, and you got an unexpected grandchild. Is this really such a good idea?”

“To be fair,” Twister began, holding out her hooves, “Cyclone isn’t around this time.”

Hurricane winced at both of their statements. “I understand your concerns, Typhoon, but the decision’s already been made. Star Swirl is gathering supplies and preparing for my journey; I leave at first light.” Picking up his wingblades, he reaffixed them to his crests and stretched his wings until they fit comfortably along the arms.

“But Dad,” Typhoon began, still uncertain.

“This discussion is over, Typhoon.”

The mare sighed and weakly saluted. “Sir.”

Twister stood up. “And what about us? You wouldn’t have brought us all the way out here if there wasn’t something you wanted us to do.”

Hurricane nodded. “You’re right. Well, as these riots have been getting worse and worse, I’ve been seeing reports from centurions saying that they believe there’s another force instigating them. Given how things have been spiraling out of control, followed by Gilded Line’s assassination back in White Fields, I don’t think that’s too absurd an assumption.”

“I still don’t understand why anypony wanted to assassinate Platinum’s husband,” Typhoon muttered. “He was from a noble family, sure, but I didn’t see him as much of a power politician.”

Twister shook her head. “He wasn’t, but he was from the Line of Aurum. Their line has had more great kings than any other line in the Diamond Kingdom, including Malachite the Titan, the second of the kings known as the Wise Five.”

Typhoon raised her eyebrow. “Sounds like a brute of a pony.”

“Eh, that’s one way to look at it. He always wore armor and carried a greathammer into battle with him.” Twister shook her head. “It’s back in Burning Hearth; it was physically too heavy and too large to move when the unicorns were gathering up their essentials for the move west.”

The Praetorian nodded out of respect for the lethality of the weapon. “How large are we talking about?”

“The thing was seven foot from base to head,” Hurricane said. “It must have been made out of lead or lodestone, because the damn thing weighed nearly seventy-five pounds.”

“Gods,” Typhoon muttered. “And Gilded Line’s related to him? I can’t imagine a unicorn wielding a weapon like that.”

“Malachite wasn’t your average unicorn,” Twister said. “The stallion was about four foot and as dense as a mountain. There’s a reason he was the one to crush the neighboring Emeraldine Confederacy and bring those unicorns into the Diamond Kingdom.”

“I see. So you’re saying that Gilded Line was assassinated because he was related to this King?”

“No,” Twister said, shaking her head. “Less so that than the fact that the Line of Aurum held most of the Diamond Kingdom’s gold, and as such Gilded Line was a very influential and powerful pony.” Shrugging, she sat back down. “My best guess is that whoever it is that’s agitating things behind the scenes didn’t want the two most powerful noble lines acting as one from the seat of Equestria. You remember how the unicorns feuded with each other the moment Gilded’s pulse faded.”

“I remember alright,” Hurricane added. “The different lines all went back to their keeps and began to rally banners. Most put down their arms when I threatened the Legion’s intervention. A few, though, resisted…”

His voice trailed off, but Twister was quick to pick up on it. “Lord Jet. I remember.”

“Jet was the fiercest of the warmongers,” Typhoon said. “He was calling for war with Equestria itself. It’s a good thing we put him down when we did.”

“Yeah, with a legion’s worth of soldiers,” Twister added. She shook her head. “Is there even anything left of his hold?”

“Nothing but rubble,” Typhoon simply stated. “He fought to the last pony, and the unicorn clan that accompanied our legion tore the place to the ground afterwards.”

“They made a song about it,” Hurricane simply stated. “I’m sure you heard it somewhere. But that isn’t important. What I was getting at was that I need somepony to investigate what’s going on behind the scenes here. These riots have only gotten worse and worse, despite what we concede to them, and I’m starting to think that somepony else is to blame.”

Twister rested her forehead in a hoof. “And you think that this pony or group of ponies might also be the same ones responsible for Gilded Line’s assassination and the theft of Electrum’s Orb.” It wasn’t a question, it was a fact.

Hurricane nodded. “It only makes sense. If somepony isn’t trying to destabilize the government, incite civilian unrest, and steal powerful magical artifacts, then I don’t know what’s going on. No, all this happened by somepony’s design, and if we don’t stop them, there’ll be only one outcome.”

“Civil war,” Typhoon darkly stated. She trembled as she breathed, and all three present knew that she was right.

“Exactly.” Stepping closer, Hurricane looked between the two mares. “Equestria will not survive a civil war. Our three races will splinter again, and we’ll end up returning to the Tri-pony Compact—and that’s the best case scenario.”

“And worse case…” Typhoon mused, shuddering at the thought.

“It was Grabacr who sent the demons to the tribes to punish us for our infighting,” Twister said. Sighing, she scratched the base of a wing. “Who’s to say that he won’t destroy this land as well once we turn the rivers red with blood?”

Hurricane ground his hoof into the ground. “Cirra will not move again. Or, if we do move, it will be east and not west.”

“At least Cyclone will get what he wanted all along,” Typhoon muttered, shaking her head.

“So this is what it comes down to,” Hurricane said. “I am going to recover Electrum’s Orb. While I’m gone, try to find out who’s been working behind the scenes, trying to push us to a civil war. With luck, this riot might be Equestria’s last.”

Twister leaned back, looking out over the walls of the castle courtyard and to the starry night skies above. Each one was a Cirran legionary who had perished in battle, and as a result had been granted immortality in the peaceful solace of the night sky. Swift Spear was up there, somewhere, looking down on them as they tried to save what she had died for. If they were successful, Equestria might just live. If they were not…

She shook her head. She didn’t want to have to think of how many more constellations she’d be able to name when all was said and done.

“I’ll see if I can get anything out of Parliament and Puddinghead,” she said. “There’re always plenty of rumors going around in the political world, and with luck, a few might be more than just rumors.”

“And I’ll gather up a few of my most trusted soldiers and see if we can’t find anything in the slums,” Typhoon added. “If there really is some faction behind this all, they’ll have a footing there. It’s all about finding the signs and talking to the right ponies.”

Hurricane nodded. “Be careful, both of you. We’re playing with fire here; today’s riot was just another example of what’s at stake. We can’t afford mistakes.”

“We’ll do our best and see where that brings us,” Typhoon said. Standing up, she quickly brought her hoof to her face to hide a yawn. “Sorry. If we’re done here, I’m going to get some sleep—what sleep I can with a four-year-old running amok around the house.” Raising her wing, she saluted her father. “Good luck, Dad. Come back in one piece.”

Hurricane saluted, then wrapped his wings around his daughter. “I’ll be gone before you wake up in the morning. Stay safe; you’ll be in much more danger than I will.”

Typhoon scoffed. “I find that hard to believe. I’m not venturing into the wilderness by myself.”

“The natural wilderness is a lot safer than the urban wilderness,” Hurricane countered, rubbing Typhoon’s back. “Fewer snakes.”

The mare rolled her eyes and separated. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” Turning around, she waved a wing at Hurricane and Twister. “Goodnight, both of you.”

With the quiet tapping of hooves over grass, Typhoon soon disappeared, leaving Hurricane and Twister in the courtyard. Standing up, Twister also walked over to Hurricane and embraced him, shaking her head wearily. “Nothing good can come from this, Hurricane.”

Hurricane likewise shook his head. “You’re right. But in the end, it’s better than doing nothing.”

“Perhaps,” Twister mused. “Perhaps. Just come back in one piece. That’s all I ask of you.”

The commander nodded. “You have my word.”

Taking a few steps back, Twister smiled faintly. “‘Your word’. So help me, I’ll kill you again if you come back in two.”

Then, spreading her wings, the mare took flight, disappearing into the night sky above the city. Hurricane watched her go while a heavy stone sank into his gut. He hadn’t been joking with Typhoon when he said the city was more dangerous than the wild. Nothing was conspiring against you and doing everything it could to cover its tracks in the wild.

“Please be safe,” he whispered to himself, moving to the bench. With a tired and weary sigh, he sat down on it, placing his helmet next to him and relaxing his wings. He let the coolness of the night air brush past his muzzle, and he closed his eyes, leaning back.

Morning came all too soon, but when the sun’s light touched the bench in the courtyard, the Cirran was nowhere to be found.

Chapter 3: Red Knives

It was late afternoon in Canterlot. The sun had slowly and inexorably traced its way across the horizon until it was just touching the mountains in the west. Its orange glow bathed the city in a radiant, dying light, and long shadows marched from one side of the street to the other. In the throne room, the sun’s rays were distorted by the stained glass, and their colored splotches repatterned the tiling, carpet, walls, and ponies within. Twilight Sparkle wouldn’t have noticed, so engrossed in the story was she, until a blinding bolt of red light struck her square in the eyes.

Flinching, Twilight leaned back and twisted her face, trying to rub out the sunspot imprinted on the back of her retina with a clumsy hoof. Only then, separated from the journal’s tale, did she realize how late it was.

From her throne, Celestia smiled and gently shut the journal, setting it down at her side. “I suppose now is as good a time as any for a break,” she said, her voice gentle and tender. Looking out the window, her horn lit up, tugging the golden orb floating in the sky further towards the western horizon. “It is almost time for Luna to raise the moon, and if my memory serves me right, she may want to hear these next bits when she’s done with that.”

Twilight nodded and stood up, stretching each of her limbs in turn until she cracked the stiffness out of her joints. Walking in a small circle to get the blood flowing back to her hooves, she glanced over to see how the Commander was faring after sitting (or standing) for so long.

The blue-gray pony was no longer standing by the door. Out of instinct, Twilight glanced up, searching the stunted platform ringing the ceiling. It was home to many statues of ponies, some wearing armor, some not; some pegasi, others earth ponies and unicorns; some mares, and others stallions. But Twilight knew better than to look at the edges. Instead, she looked toward the very center of the platform directly above Celestia’s throne. There, she recognized the statue of a pegasus soldier even before it began to move and its stone turned back to flesh.

It was a simple enough trick afforded by wearing Hurricane’s armor. As Twilight had learned before by asking the stallion, the armor supposedly was able to amplify the effects of pegasus Empatha, and in this particular instance, summoning earth Empatha allowed the wearer to turn to stone. As the pegasus spread his wings and glided down to the throne room floor at Celestia’s hooves, another question came to Twilight’s mind, one she hadn’t considered before starting her research into the armor’s original owner.

“Commander,” she began, taking two steps forward. The blue-gray pony turned from Celestia to her, slightly raising his eyebrow as the only other indication that he had heard her. “When did Hurricane’s armor get that enchantment? I haven’t seen any record of him using it in all my research so far.”

The Commander glanced at his armor and shrugged. “It was long after his time. Somepony modified it during the Twilight War to help give its new wearer a leg up on Luna’s thestrals.”

Celestia winced. “Nightmare Moon’s thestrals,” she corrected.

The Commander’s wing twitched, as if taking the effort to shrug off Celestia’s comment was asking too much. Turning back to Celestia, he courteously nodded. “Of course,” he said, but Twilight could still hear the bile dripping from his teeth. Straightening back up again, he looked between the two mares in the room. “I have business I need to attend to. Lt. Star needs to be debriefed about the Saraneighvo incident.” He cast Twilight a knowing glance, causing the mare to blush and duck her head. “Enjoy your story. Let me know if anything interesting comes up.” He moved to leave the room.

“Hold on one second,” Celestia said, her horn coming to life. The Commander obeyed, looking over his shoulder at the white alicorn seated behind him. Celestia’s Arcana wrapped around the two feathers she had rested by her throne, and she levitated them over to the pegasus. “Take these with you. They still have Typhoon’s and Cyclone’s Empatha in them. They might be useful in the future.”

With a small dip of his head, the Commander reached out a hoof and caught the two red and blond feathers as Celestia’ let go of them. Then, whistling four notes to a tune Twilight didn’t recognize, the Commander pulled on the suddenly unlatched lightning bolt in the center of his armor to reveal a hidden compartment. Twilight couldn’t see exactly what was inside; it was too obscured by the stallion’s hoof safely depositing the feathers inside. With a click the compartment shut again, and the guardspony extended his wing in an archaic salute before leaving the throne room behind.

The door shut with a heavy thud. It was just Celestia and Twilight alone in the throne room now, and the last rays of the late winter light faded behind the mountains, to be wholly replaced by the sudden raising of the half-moon in the east. Walking around the room, Twilight noticed the scroll at Celestia’s hooves, mentioning something about King Sombra’s Tomb. A thought came to her, one she had when going through the journal with Celestia earlier.

“Celestia?” she asked.

“What is it, my little pony?” Celestia replied, a smile plucking at her lips.

“That unicorn… thief. That wasn’t Sombra, was it?”

Celestia thought for a moment before shaking her head. “No, that was not Sombra. Luna knew that pony more than I did. Suffice it to say, however, that I did know Sombra in his time. He was… well, a different sort of pony altogether.”

Twilight’s eyes widened just a tick. “Really?”

Celestia nodded. “We might just come across him yet.” Checking a large grandfather clock against the side of the throne room, she shifted position. “It is still early in the evening, perhaps too early to eat, unless you favor yourself an early dinner.”

The lavender unicorn glanced at her stomach as if to see what its opinion was. Receiving no immediate answer, she shrugged. “I’m not all that hungry yet, but I imagine I will be later.”

“If you say so,” Celestia gently said. Picking back up the journal again, she flipped to where she had left off. “In that case, would you be interested in reading another chapter before dinner? We can dine with Princess Luna before going any further. She most certainly would like to hear this story with us.”

Twilight eagerly nodded. “Sounds like a plan, Princess.”

Celestia gave Twilight a smile and shifted positions to sit more comfortably in her throne. “Very well then.”

“Well, good luck, sir. Are you sure you’ve got everything you need? It’s the last outpost between civilization and madness.”

Hurricane nodded and placed his helmet back on his head. “Thank you, legionary, but I have everything I need. I need to travel fast and light.” He reached a hoof towards his flank and patted the small saddlebag strapped to the armor. “I can’t have anything besides the essentials slowing my flight.”

“If you say so, sir,” the legionary replied. “I doubt I need to warn you about what’s beyond these walls, but I’ll pray to Mobius for your safe return.”

Hurricane saluted his subordinate. “Keep up the good work, soldier.”

The legionary returned the salute. “Of course, Commander.”

Turning away, Hurricane left the wide canvas requisitions tent and trotted into the open. He was in the center of an Equestrian outpost far past the northern borders of the nation itself, almost at the foot of the Mountain of Dawn, the solitary and lonely towering behemoth of stone in the central highlands. The mountain had some sort of religious significance attached to it by the unicorns and earth ponies, and while Hurricane personally disregarded these rumors, he had nonetheless authorized a legion of soldiers to aid in the establishment of a colonia there. If he flew up high enough, he could see some of the quaint cottages some of the settlers had already constructed in the surrounding countryside.

A group of training milites trotted past Hurricane, a centurion hot on their hooves as he forced them to march from one end of the camp and back again. Looking around, Hurricane saw even more pegasi training with their gladii, or getting repairs made to their armor. Despite the colonia being a device of Equestria, everypony, especially Hurricane, knew that it was a Cirran institution through and through. The soldiers were all Cirran legionaries, all pegasi, with not a unicorn or earth pony to be seen. Hell, it was a colonia and not a colony, and this particular colonia was named Tempestatem, not something more Equiish in nature. Despite the general melting of the three cultures into one Equestrian society back in Everfree, the practices of the old Cirran nation were still very much alive far from the capital.

It had taken Hurricane half a day’s flight to reach Tempestatem from Everfree, and he had spent the rest of that day gathering information from the locals and the soldiers in the colonia. When he had heard an account of a demon flitting through the shadows the night before from not one but two farmers, he knew he was on the right track. With that knowledge to confirm his suspicions, Hurricane then met with the centurio prior in charge of Tempestatem to plan his search for the next day.

“If there’s any place the bastard’s going to, it’ll be the Mountain,” the centurion had said, pointing to the aforementioned mountain on a large map. “Unfortunately, the land’s so hilly and forested that finding him in that mess will be damn near impossible.”

Hurricane had thought on that for a while before pointing to a shield of rock against the mountain where the forest melted into stone. “If he and whomever else he’s working for are smart, they’d hole up right here. It’s fairly defensible, difficult to notice from afar, and it’s likely got numerous hidden escape routes. That’s where I’ll start looking tomorrow.”

They had shared a few more ideas, but Hurricane ultimately left with a copy of the map and retired for the night. The centurion had offered to accompany Hurricane, but the black stallion had declined, holding to his original reasons that he moved faster on his own and was, quite frankly, skilled enough to handle whatever the thief could throw at him by his lonesome. The centurion reluctantly acquiesced, but with understandable apprehension; no Cirran wanted to be known as the soldier who let the Commander Maximus wander to his own death alone.

The following day, Hurricane had woken after a good night’s sleep and drilled with some of the colonia’s soldiers as a warm up. The stallions had no idea that their Commander would be training with them, but Hurricane could tell that his presence was uplifting to the generally younger and inexperienced soldiers that he assigned to outposts like Tempestatem to learn how to fight like true legionaries. Apprehensive at first, the soldiers nonetheless came to him for advice or a few friendly words by the end of their drilling, and their morale seemed mostly unharmed by the fact that the stallion who ought to have been retired had beaten the entire team of eight, single-hoofedly. It was a remarkable experience to the aging legionary; he resolved to tour the Legion more often upon his return, assuming he could get out of most of his political obligations.

When that was concluded, all Hurricane had left was to quickly stop by the requisitions tent and gather a few supplies for his search, namely some fresh water, a few bandages for any odd injuries, and a new skysteel guard scale for his left wingblade, which had begun to jam on him and impair his flight on the way up. He had also procured a flagon of strong ale which he then tucked deep in his saddlebags. Hurricane hadn’t been much of a drinker five years ago, and even now he still wasn’t, but some nights he needed a little help to keep himself from waking and realizing that the other half of his bed was empty and cold.

That brought him to where he was now, walking through the center of the colonia and towards the north. Fully equipped and armed with sharpened blades and oiled armor, Hurricane flapped his wings once, twice, three times, and rose above the tents below. He hovered in place for a moment, gaining his bearings, and then caught an updraft, spiraling in slow, lazy circles as he gained altitude from the warm air. Even at forty-six, the summer air made Hurricane feel alive, and he doubt it would ever fail to impart that feeling. So many things may have changed, but flying was still something that the graying pegasus owned, wholly and completely.

Once he was half a mile above the ground below, Hurricane gently straightened out of his spirals and zeroed in on the mountain to the north. The rectangular colonia walls below him faded to the south, and so too did the few scattered cottages near it, heavy plumes of gray smoke leaving chimneys that protruded through thatched roofs as the ponies inside prepared the midday meal. In a few moments, forest and highlands dominated the landscape, and it was then that Hurricane noted he had truly left Equestria for the first time in five years.

It brought a smile to his lips.

If there was one thing that Pan Sea regretted in his life, it was not getting to know Twister sooner. The mare was amazing at her work; everything was neat and organized, nothing was late, and she still found the time to be a good wife, mother, and friend. When she stepped into Pan Sea’s office just across the bridge from the castle, she was still tidying up her appearance after giving her husband, Echo Wing, a kiss and a hug goodbye.

“Twister!” Pan Sea greeted, standing up from behind his desk and moving around to meet her. “Good to see you! My, you look like you’ve been busy.”

Twister nodded. “I just finished up a particularly heated session in Parliament. The unicorn nobles are calling for another tax hike, while the earth ponies are demanding the opposite. Trying to work out a deal that’s suitable for the pegasi and the other two sides has been anything but easy.”

Pan Sea nodded, only marginally familiar with the latest news out of Parliament by virtue of the papers he had to sort for Commander Hurricane. “I heard about that,” he lied, trying to make friendly conversation. “You’re closer to the action than I am; what does that mean for the rest of us?”

Twister brushed around Pan Sea and found a chair. “Well, it’s no secret that Equestria’s barely scraping enough money to support the Legion, our social care programs, administrative duties, and the nobles’ pockets,” she said as she began stripping off the annoying and nonessential pieces of her Legatus garb. “While the nobles are saying that they need the tax hikes for the first three, we all know that about half of that revenue is going to go to the last one. The earth ponies are staunchly opposed to it and instead want to reduce taxes, but they aren’t going anywhere with that one without help.”

Pan Sea cocked his head. “Really? I thought the earth ponies controlled the majority of the house.”

“No,” Twister said, shaking her head. “The earth ponies control around two hundred of Parliament’s five hundred seats. The pegasi own one hundred and seventy-five of the remaining three hundred, and the unicorns have the rest. They need more support to get the simple majority that they need to push the bill through, but that isn’t going to happen unless they gain pegasus support.”

“Oh,” Pan Sea said, suddenly understanding the dilemma. “The patrician families from the Senate aren’t going to support the earth ponies because their policy means cuts to the Legion’s budget, right?”

“Right,” Twister said. “Meanwhile, I’m trying to organize a rewrite of the bill, but about half of our patrician senators are siding with the unicorns because they want to line their pockets too. That leaves me with about a hundred honest senators willing to put out the right bill for the nation, but since few of them are patricians, they don’t have any influence in Parliament.” Moaning, Twister slouched back in her chair and held her hooves to her heart. “This is why our government is going to fail, sooner or later. We don’t have a selection of Equestria’s population to represent it; we have the nobles, which are all unicorn, we have the plebs, which are all earth pony, and we have the Legion, which is all pegasus. This isn’t a representational system; this is a system that functions on influence, intrigue, and brute-force voting!” Her forelegs flopped down against her sides, and she released an exasperated breath. “Mobius have mercy on my soul.”

Pan Sea smiled sympathetically and took his seat across from the mare. “Couldn’t you mine more gems and bring them in to keep the government afloat? I mean, Queen Platinum found dozens of gems just inches below the surface back at Platinum’s Landing. They’re not that hard to find.”

Twister shook her head. “That was the nobles’ other solution, but I can’t allow it. Bringing in all these gems is only going to cause massive inflation to Equestria’s economy, and the poor who are already finding it difficult to buy food and basic supplies won’t be able to at all. Sure, it’ll create some jobs in the short term, but not enough to give the economy a nice boost.”

The yellow stallion thought on that for a while. “But what about—”

Twister held up a hoof. “As much as I enjoy talking politics and domestic policy, I already do too much of that. It’s called my job.”

The secretary faltered a bit. “Oh. Then, well, what did you need to see me for?”

The legatus leaned forward and tapped her hooves together. “Two days ago, a thief broke into Star Swirl the Bearded’s special storeroom and stole something incredibly important and dangerous.”

Pan Sea’s eyes widened. “What?! Really?” When Twister nodded, he looked around him, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to figure out what to say next. “That’s just… wow. I didn’t think such a thing was possible.”

“I didn’t think so either,” Twister countered, opening her posture. “But it happened.”

Pan Sea shook his head again. “How come I haven’t heard of this until now? Is that why the Commander is gone?”

The mare bobbed her head. “That’s right. And you haven’t heard about this because Star Swirl and Hurricane didn’t want others to hear about it. Too many nobles would want to get their hooves on Electrum’s Orb, or try to seize some power while we’re all scrambling to recover it.”

Pan Sea’s head tilted to the side. “Electrum’s Orb?”

“Electrum’s Orb,” Twister restated. “It’s an incredibly powerful artifact that’s the equivalent of a scrying sphere. Only, this one never fails.” Leaning back from the desk, her cheek puffed out as she released a tense breath. “But that’s not important to us. Hurricane’s going to recover the Orb, and I don’t doubt that he’ll succeed. What he asked me to do, and what I’m asking you to do, is to try and gather some information on the ones responsible for this.”

Pan Sea appeared confused. “You mean there’re more ponies than just the thief?”

“That’s what Hurricane believes, and I’m inclined to agree with him,” Twister said. “Think about it; the riots have gotten out of hand lately. We’re seeing sections of the population threatening to take arms against us that have no business being angry in the first place.”

“You can’t really know that for certain,” Pan Sea said, resting his forelegs on his desk.

“Uh huh,” Twister said, deadpanning Pan Sea with a stare. “It’s only my duty to understand what makes this nation tick.”

Pan Sea resisted the edge to squirm in his seat, despite being several years Twister’s elder.

The mare continued, waving her hooves for emphasis. “There’ve been assassinations, murders, muggings, and disappearances of notable figures over the past several months. Several unicorn families have kept their banners unreasonably close around them, ready to fight at a moment’s notice. If there isn’t something going on behind the scenes, I’d be damned surprised.”

The yellow stallion sighed and put his hooves together. “Alright. So if we suppose you’re right, and there is somepony else behind this all, how are we going to stop them?”

Twister sighed. “First things first, we need to figure out who these conspirators are. I seriously doubt that it’s just one pony, and in that case, we need to trace somepony back to the group.” She tapped her hoof against the desk, and Pan Sea noted that she was wearing steel shoes underneath her hooves. He didn’t get the chance to ask about it before she pulled her hoof away again. “Following a grunt, tracing somepony’s mail, hell, if we capture a boss that’d pretty much put this group away. The fact of the matter is, we need to catch somepony.”

An uncomfortable feeling settled in Pan Sea’s gut. “So what’s our plan for that, then? Do you have any leads?”

Twister reached into a concealed compartment on the ornamental cuirass that she wore as part of her legatus garb and pulled out a tightly bound scroll. Without any ceremony, she simply tossed the paper to Pan Sea, who awkwardly caught it in his hooves. “Here’s how I’m thinking we should handle this. I’ve got much more pull in Parliament than you do, since you’re only a secretary. I can gather rumors on ponies, places, and events with a few favors, a little money, and a touch of mare’s charm.”

Pan Sea blushed as an image crossed his mind. “Your… husband’s okay with that?”

Twister rolled her eyes. “Not like that. Although making stallions think it is like that is important. Anyways, I’ll spend my time in Parliament gathering names and other rumors that we might want to take a look at.”

Pan Sea paused, knowing what was coming next but dreading it all the more. “And…?”

Twister pointed to the scroll in his hooves. “You’re going to investigate them for me, then.”

“What?!”

“Come on, Pansy,” Twister said, allowing a pointed lapse into her brother’s pronunciation of the stallion’s name. “You used to be a soldier in the Legion, and you still are, if rank and oath mean anything to you. Besides, I guarantee that you’ve faced worse in the call of duty than what I’m asking you to deal with.”

Pan Sea felt his guilt getting the better of him. He hated when ponies played to his guilt. “I know, I just… I don’t know.”

“Ugh… Look, with Hurricane out of town, you don’t have much of anything to do for him other than making sure the papers he has to go through when he gets back are stacked nice and square.”

Pan Sea deflated alongside his resolve. “Alright, alright. I’ll take a look at what’s going on.” Placing the scroll on the table, he began to work at the ribbon tying it together. “Before I get into this, just who or what am I investigating first?”

Twister stood up and gathered her things about her. “The first place to start is close to home with the obvious targets, so I picked the most obvious one.”

“Who? The earth pony representative, Speaker Carrot Cake?”

“No, you won’t be taking a look at many of the ponies in Parliament,” Twister said with a dismissive wave of her hoof. “I keep an eye on them enough during my job.”

With the obvious choices (to Pan Sea at least) ruled out, the stallion looked at the half-opened scroll in front of him with a quizzical look. That expression soon turned to one of disbelief as he read the name and saw the picture. “Wait a minute, you want me to look after—?!”

“That’s right,” Twister said as she moved towards the door. “I want you to investigate Mayor Greenleaf.”

“Eyes about you, soldiers. This isn’t a walk in the park.”

Typhoon’s eyes slid underneath the shadow of her helmet as she crossed the threshold into Everfree’s slums. She could tell simply by the feeling in her hooves as they left mildly clean cobblestone and gravel and immediately began picking up mud and other sticky substances. Behind her, four other centurions, three stallions and a mare, followed closely.

Everfree itself wasn’t exactly a grand city to begin with. Most of it was raised in barely a few months after the populations of the Compact Lands crossed the Narrow Strait. As such, the majority of the buildings were rough-cut around the edges and lacking in the polished refinement common to unicorn architecture. Still, it at least had the framework of a proper town, and even if it was a pale light in comparison to the cities of old, it still had the foundations to become a mighty city in its time.

The slums were notably different. There was a distinct and definitive line where the relative prosperity of Everfree ended and the poverty of the less fortunate began. This line was a street running almost the entire length of the city, partitioning the slums and Everfree proper with a fifteen foot wide dirt road stained with blood. The road was manned on one side by a complement of legionaries and a hoofful of various malcontent and angry ponies on the other. The separation looked like a heavily patrolled checkpoint between two nations, and for that reason it had become known as the Choke.

Ponies were technically free to enter and leave the slums as they pleased; it was a part of the city after all. With the riots, however, security had tightened down enough that the phrase “papers, please” was akin to an insult in slum life. Typhoon and her company of trusted centurions had to process their names and military papers through a legate watching over the whole area before they were allowed to enter.

The legate smirked as he looked over Typhoon’s papers. “So, you’re going in to do a little cleanup, ma’am? Well, you’ll find no shortage of a mess, that’s for sure. Just try not to get lost in there.”

Typhoon raised an eyebrow. “I don’t normally patrol the slums. Anything I should be leery of?”

The legate, a tall, blue stallion with streaks of electric yellow in his mane, shook his head. “Not for a pony as capable as yourself, ma’am. Just be wary of the seedier parts of the slums. Soldiers go in, and sometimes they don’t always come back out.”

The Praetorian frowned and snatched her papers back, stuffing them into her armor. “Thank you, Legate. Keep up the good work here.” Turning around, she pointedly left before the older stallion could reply. Typhoon may have been one of the highest ranking Praetorian Guards, but the fact that she was still twenty-two and barely considered more than a filly still gave some of the other soldiers purchase to jab at her from time to time. Typhoon had learned to ignore it; her breath was more valuable for other things than to be wasted in dealing with legionaries poking harmless fun at her.

A few seconds later, her soldiers had assembled in a wedge formation at her sides, with Typhoon taking point. With a few flaps from their wings, they hopped over the barricade in the Choke and touched down in the center of the street. Once there, Typhoon turned around, halting them with a wing.

“I just want you all to be clear about one thing,” she said, looking each soldier in the eyes individually. “This is not Everfree. The slums are akin to a warzone. See those ponies?” she asked, pointing over her shoulder to a group of stallions wearing dirty rags near the shell of a decrepit house. Noticing that they had received the soldiers’ attention, the stallions bared their teeth and withdrew into the shadows, one of them flinging insults as he retreated. “Those are the kind of ponies we’ll be dealing with,” Typhoon continued once they were gone. “We’re Cirran, and we’re military. They hate us on principle.”

Walking up to each of her soldiers, Typhoon inspected their gear. Stopping at the mare, Typhoon drew the centurion’s sword and hoofed it to her, earning a surprised look from the soldier. “Rule number one: don’t get separated. If you get split, you’re good as dead. Rule number two: nopony approaches you. You give them warnings and make sure they approach slow and don’t have anything concealed in their robes. If they don’t listen to you, you have the right to defend yourself and cut them down.” Tapping the mare’s sword, Typhoon looked her in the eyes. “Don’t forget that.”

The mare nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Typhoon nodded in return before looking back over the rest of the group. “Rule number three: check your corners and walk along the center of the road. A lot of these ponies would love to take a stab at you from the shelter of an alley and escape into the shadows. Don’t become a casualty. And the last rule,” she said, opening her wings for emphasis, “is no flying. You fly, you’re a target for any unicorn who wants to do you harm. If you have to get out of a bad spot in a hurry, stay low and move fast. But don’t go straight up. Am I understood?”

The four centurions nodded as one. “Ma’am.”

“Good,” Typhoon said. “I’m on point. Starbreaker, Balefire, you two are with me. Hailstorm, Tau, you two keep an eye on our six. Make sure nopony sneaks up on us.” Receiving a series of affirmative salutes, Typhoon turned around and crossed the street into the slums. Her centurions followed hard on her hooves, watching their quarters diligently and not without a little trepidation.

Typhoon drew her own sword as she began to walk down the main road in the slums. Her wings angled out at her sides, the blades lining their crests meaning danger and death to those who thought about rushing her. She received more than a few cold stares, and several ponies spit on the ground as she passed. To her left, she saw a withered mare shepherding dirty foals away from the streets. On her right, she caught a quick glimpse of a stallion’s scowl before he turned away and disappeared inside his house. The hairs on the back of her neck bristled, and she quickly rolled her shoulders, letting her armor rattle as she worked out her tension.

The slums themselves were little more than districts of rotting wood and mud held together by dirt and excrement. The little wooden shanties were packed close together, so close in fact that Typhoon felt they only had one thin plank wall to separate them—at best. Several hastily thrown together shelters were piled literally one atop the other, and boards too irregular or too rotten to be used in construction were driven into the ground as fences. Everywhere, murky puddles of brown water collected in the divots of the muddy and uneven road, and the smell was enough to suffocate a pony. Grimacing, Typhoon skirted around a pile of refuse in the middle of the street. No wonder the nation was in turmoil, especially Everfree.

A stallion’s voice snapped her back to reality. “What are we looking for, ma’am?” one of her soldiers asked, Balefire by the sound of it. He had accelerated just enough to walk at Typhoon’s side, and his eyes watched the ponies standing by the edges of the street wearily.

“Anything odd,” Typhoon said. “Gang signs, shady figures, tails that we might have picked up…” she shrugged. “Anything that helps us connect a pony to these riots.”

Balefire scratched his forehead. “A tough task on a good day, if you don’t mind, ma’am.”

Typhoon nodded. “I know. I used to do lots of this work back in Amber Field. I know how to pick out shifty ponies…” Her voice trailed off as she spotted a figure turn around and slip into the crowds, drawing up its hood as it went. “Shifty ponies like that.”

She quickened her pace, leaving Balefire to whistle to his fellow centurions to hurry up. Once the new pace was set, he returned to Typhoon’s side. “Well, doesn’t look like you needed our help with that one, ma’am.”

“I didn’t bring you for your help,” Typhoon coldly replied. “Just your protection.”

It quieted the stallion for a few minutes, at the least.

Approaching the crowd of bustling ponies, Typhoon spread her wings and began moving for them to step aside, having to shake her bladed appendages every once in a while to get a particularly jaded resident to back off. Behind her, her centurions maintained the wedge, forcing the crowd further away. Their foreheads dripped with sweat as the crowd closed back up after them, shaking angry hooves and flinging rotten fruit and other harder things at them.

“Easy, easy,” Typhoon commanded her shaken guards. “Remember, don’t strike unless your life depends on it.”

She could just barely see the hood of the figure moving through the crowd. The pony glanced back on occasion as if he was checking to see where Typhoon and her soldiers were. Typhoon swore to herself as she realized with all the commotion it wouldn’t be very hard to guess. Looking away, she watched her target out of the corner of her eye as he caught sight of her to make it look like she had lost him. In that instant, however, she took note of what she could see of his appearance.

He was a black stallion by the looks of it. Not very tall and quite lanky, but he had a thick and protruding black horn set above hauntingly blue eyes. He didn’t seem to have a mane, as far as Typhoon could tell, but then again with the hood covering his head and shoulders it was difficult to tell. Before she could see more, however, he turned around, satisfied that nopony was following him. Frowning, Typhoon quickly nickered to her companions and immediately began to close the distance on him.

Shaking off a few last indignant ponies from her wings, and the splatterings of a rotten tomato from her cuirass, Typhoon finally broke through the crowd and emerged on the other side. She immediately took her eyes off of her target to make sure that the rest of her soldiers got through safe and sound. With a little bit of scuffling and ducking, they made it out mostly unscathed, and the five pegasi quickly trotted away to get away from the ire of the impoverished.

The only problem was now Typhoon had lost her target. She looked high and low for him, but the hooded figure was nowhere to be seen. Cursing, she regrouped with her companions and redoubled her pace. At the very least, there was only one street, curving to the left and into the center of the slums. If her target had fled, he had to have gone that way.

“Balefire, Starbreaker, break wide as we enter the square,” Typhoon commanded to the two stallions at her sides. “I want the place locked down. There’ll be a crowd there, but only a few exits. But make sure you keep the rest of us in sight.”

“Ma’am!” both ponies affirmed, quickly saluting with their wings before moving to break off. They didn’t get very far, however, before the mare’s scream cut them off.”

Typhoon, who had been looking down an alley, suddenly spun around. “Tau! What’s wrong?!” She darted over to the mare’s side, noting in transit that she didn’t appear harmed.

Tau was unable to speak. Instead, she just pointed with a hoof towards something in the center of the square.

Typhoon turned to look, just as the rest of her soldiers uttered curses and shouts. At first she didn’t see anything; just a wooden beam in the center of the square. Then she stopped looking past the beam and her gaze traveled up. She too cursed and opened her wings in alarm.

Hanging from the pole was what appeared at first like a collection of rusted metal. Upon further inspection, however, Typhoon could see it was anything but. It was the corpse of a pony, hanging by its tail, still wearing its armor. What Typhoon had mistaken for rust was actually its browned blood, dry and clinging to the skysteel and the brutalized coat of the pony inside.

“Mobius!” Typhoon cursed. Tightening her grip on her sword, she trotted into the square, her fellow soldiers not too far behind. “There’s no way they would… gods!”

She could barely—just barely—recognize the hanging pony as a pegasus stallion. His face had been beaten, cut, and burnt, and two charred and twisted masses of muscle along his back marked where his wings used to be. As the body slowly twisted around, the air pushing on it, Typhoon could see that his ribs had been caved in and scorched. His left foreleg was shattered in several places, and one of his eyes was missing. Hatred flared through the Praetorian, and she took an angry step forward. This pony’s death had not been quick. She had no intention of making the deaths of those responsible anything else.

Balefire cautiously approached the lynched legionary. His sword quivered in his mouth, and his wings twitched nervously. Typhoon followed him at a distance, with the rest of her soldiers taking up points around the square.

“I think I know what happened to some of those soldiers the legate said went missing,” Balefire commented, stopping at the foot of the pole. A drop of blood fell on his nose, and he jumped back, quickly rubbing it off. “Shit… and this was recent, too.”

“Recent,” Typhoon echoed. Suddenly, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Whirling around, she looked over the square. Aside from her soldiers and herself, there was nopony there. The windows of the taller buildings surrounding the plaza were dark and empty. Even the noise from the crowd they had just pushed their way through had died off.

She gulped. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

“Balefire, get his tags,” Typhoon ordered, walking away from the corpse. “Tau, Hailstorm, Starbreaker, keep your eyes peeled and get ready to pull out. I don’t want to be in this place any longer than I have to.”

Nodding, the soldiers set about their tasks. Typhoon took her position at the rear of the diamond formation her three centurions on the ground had set up, while Balefire opened his wings and fluttered up to the mutilated corpse. Finally reaching it, he choked back some bile and hesitated before gingerly reaching for the stallion’s neck.

“Hurry it up, centurion!” Typhoon called out, her eyes scanning the neighboring buildings. So far, she hadn’t seen anything; perhaps whomever had done this just wanted to leave a message. She turned around, looking past a series of low-lying wooden shacks, where she caught a glimpse of some shadows moving.

Balefire struggled with the corpse. “I’m trying, ma’am! He’s a little stiff; the tag won’t…” his voice trailed off as he caught sight of perfectly cubic diamond attached to the soldier’s tags. It was barely an inch across, but he could’ve sworn he saw something spark inside of it as he knocked it off one of the tags. “Uh… ma’am, what’s this?”

He never got the chance to know. With a tremendous explosion, the corpse was vaporized and Balefire was ripped to gory pieces. His shattered and twisted armor flew off at random, the pieces of skysteel skipping across the dirt in the square or flying straight through the wooden planks of nearby buildings. Typhoon felt a heavy shard of his cuirass slam into the back of her armor, little more than three inches below her neck, and deflect off the onyx plating. The shower of gore and blood didn’t, however, coating her blond coat and feathers a sticky red and black.

“Holy fucking shit!” Starbreaker screamed, stumbling back as he tried to wipe Balefire off of his armor. “Gods, what the fuck was—?!”

“Contacts!” Hailstorm shouted, taking two steps back as several figures materialized from the nearby shacks and shadows. “There’s a lot of them!”

Typhoon pivoted in place, her breathing frantic and ragged as the ambush closed on them. Dirty ponies all wearing heavy black robes surrounded them. As far as she could tell, they were earth ponies and unicorns; then again, if there were any pegasi in their group, their wings were hidden by their cloaks. The earth ponies wore bladed horseshoes, some rusted, some new, or clutched daggers and knives in their teeth. The unicorns behind them held straight longswords or curved Cirran gladii that they had scavenged from dead soldiers. Altogether, Typhoon figured there were about forty ponies to her four.

“Stand your ground!” she called, backing towards her companions. “Square formation and push forward! They aren’t trained; we can take them if we stick together!”

If her guards had anything else to say, they weren’t given the chance. With a maddening cry, the ponies closed in on them. In seconds they were entirely surrounded, and blood began to spray into the air.

The first pony to reach Typhoon, an earth pony holding a twisted dagger, shouted through the handle of his weapon as he lunged at her. Taking a deep breath, Typhoon sidestepped out of the way and angled her left wing into the air. Gritting her teeth around her sword, she pivoted down and to the right, bringing her bladed wing down on the earth pony’s neck. The whistling of skysteel through the air was suddenly replaced with a squelch and a brief cry of pain that soon turned to red gurgling as she cut through the pony’s neck.

She barely had time to kick that stallion away before three more ponies pounced on her. Time slowed in midair as Typhoon’s ice Empatha flowed through her veins, dulling pain and fatigue and calming her senses until there was nothing to focus on but moving her blades to ward off each attack. Her extended wings each caught a pony’s knife between their scales, and her sword scraped a gladius away. Grunting, she pushed forward with both of her wings, knocking the attackers on her sides back, and rotated her neck to get her sword on top of the swordpony’s weapon. With a slight shuffle forward, her sword glided up the scavenged Cirran gladius and sliced clean into the pony’s nose. While the sword didn’t go deep enough to kill, the burst of ice Empatha from the cirrus skysteel blade froze the pony’s nerves, causing him to collapse in a comatose state.

Flicking her wings, Typhoon used the hooked scale on each wingblade to disarm the attackers at her sides of their weapons, casting the daggers back over her head. One of the disarmed ponies tried to tackle her, but she folded her wing so that he leapt onto a series of razor sharp scales which split him open from neck to spleen. The other pony turned tail and fled, only for his spot to be filled with another assailant.

Behind her, Typhoon’s centurions were holding their own. Tau had one corpse at her hooves and was in the process of making a second, her sword skewering the length of a unicorn’s body. Hailstorm ducked under the sword swing of an earth pony and retaliated by slamming his helmet into the pony’s chin, almost assuredly breaking it and forcing the attacker to drop his weapon. With a practiced swing from his wing, Hailstorm was able to decapitate his foe and quickly block a slash aimed for his right foreleg. Next to him, Starbreaker had four dead and dying ponies scattered around him, their bodies tripping up his attackers and they tried to reach him. Fire ran down the length of his skysteel as his Empatha gripped the weapon, and by simply waving it he shied most of the earth ponies away before they could get close.

“Keep it up!” Typhoon screeched around her weapon as she plunged it through another pony’s body. “We’re cutting through them! A little bit more of this and they’ll scatter!”

Just then, several random shots of arcane energy went whizzing by Typhoon’s ears, sending her ducking for cover. Although not actually striking her like the unicorn had hoped, their shots still forced Typhoon to abandon a sword swing against her next opponent. The other pony faltered from the shots for a second, losing his initiative, and Typhoon made him pay for it with a savage uppercut that left her right wing embedded in his ribcage. Seeing a spark in the distance, she pulled the pony close and ducked behind his dying body, letting his flesh take the shots the unicorns fired.

There was a screech behind her, and Typhoon barely spared a moment to see Hailstorm fall and clutch at a magical burn on his neck. A rather hulking earth pony advanced on him, and sparing no time, pivoted on his front hooves to deliver a powerful buck from bladed horseshoes on his hind legs. There was an audible crack and a spray of blood as the front of Hailstorm’s face was broken apart from the kick. The pegasus collapsed, barely conscious and breathing, before the earth pony stomped hard on his skull.

Kicking away from the body she was hiding behind, Typhoon darted across the open space and forced her cirrus sword straight through the earth pony’s neck. The pony gasped and clutched at the weapon, trying vainly in his dying breaths to remove it, but Typhoon pressed her leverage and only wedged it deeper into his neck. Then her hooves slipped on Hailstorm’s splattered brains, and she fell onto her back, the earth pony collapsing on top of her.

“Commander!” Starbreaker screamed, waving his fiery sword in a wide arc to stave off the ponies in front of him before turning to help his pinned superior. With a quick shove he helped Typhoon force the body away, then spun in place to barely catch a unicorn swinging a floating longsword at him on the final scale of his wingblade. Typhoon immediately scrambled upward and ripped her sword out of the earth pony’s neck before she caught a glimpse of a massive buildup of Arcana being released in her direction.

“Down!” she shrieked, lunging forward just before the blast hit. A powerful explosion shook the earth and blasted the air aside, picking Typhoon up and flinging her across the square. She gritted her teeth as her armored body slammed straight through a wooden hut and kept going, knocking over a crude table and shelving before she finally hit something more solid and stopped. The breath was knocked from her lungs, and it took her a few seconds to stand up again.

Blood dripped from her face and down her armor, and her left eye was beginning to swell shut. Diverting a little Empatha to the wound, she managed to chill it enough to stop the swelling and keep her vision clear. She had lost her helmet in the explosion, and a quick search revealed it to be halfway lodged in the remains of the wooden table. One of the cheekpieces was badly mangled, so much so that Typhoon couldn’t fit it back on her head. Cursing, she chucked the thing aside and tripped her way back through the hole in the shack.

The ponies at the center of the blast, including Tau and Starbreaker, were just getting up. Looking skywards, Typhoon could see the unicorns responsible for the explosion standing on the roof of a nearby shack, their horns still smoking from the release of Arcana. Gritting her teeth, Typhoon spat blood around the handle of her sword and ran back towards the square.

“Centurions!” she called out, trying to reach them. “Centurions, here, here! We’re not done yet!”

Starbreaker made to take a step forward and stumbled, suddenly finding that the hoof he was about to put his weight on was no longer attached to the rest of his body. Down he went, blood spilling from his foreleg, and the haze of his pain obviously too much for him to even scream. Behind him, a unicorn approached with a longsword and plunged it deep into his neck.

“No!” Typhoon yelled, starting to run forward but immediately feeling dizzy on her hooves. She probably had a concussion from the blast, and moving fast only hurt her and put red in her vision. She tried to focus her Empatha to clean her mind while she still had the chance.

In the center of the square, Tau hopped up and looked at the ponies gathering around her. Completely surrounded and with no support, her instincts got the better of her and she spread her wings, taking off into the air.

Typhoon stepped forward, desperately waving a hoof to the fleeing centurion. “Tau, no! Get down, get—!”

Her words were cut off as the rooftops, bristling with horns, lit up. Arcane bolts filled the sky around the mare before one of them cut clean through her right wing. With a terrified scream, the centurion fell into a death spiral and slammed into the ground head first. Her body crumpled into a pile in the square and lay still, until it was shot a few more times from the unicorns on the rooftops.

Some of the ponies near Typhoon noticed her and began to advance. Stepping back, Typhoon realized that she was now alone, deep in hostile territory. When the first pony reached her and tried to buck at her with rusty horseshoes, the Praetorian sluggishly moved out of the way, avoiding the attack by a few hairs. With her slipping concentration, she barely managed to hook her wing under the pony’s neck and pull, releasing a fountain of red into the dirt below. Her head reeled and her stomach churned. She was in no condition to fight.

Apparently, she was in no condition to take a hit either. Hooves connected with the back of her skull, and she immediately collapsed onto the body of the pony she had just killed. The world spun in a dizzying array of blurry grays and reds, and she was left gasping for breath. Her whole body ached, and black spots dominated her vision. Her father had been right when he said the city was just as dangerous as the wild, if not more so. She closed her eyes and awaited the end, trying not to imagine the heartbreak her father would have when he returned from his journey to find that another of his family had been killed.

Thoughts of Tempest filled her mind, and she whimpered in despair as she felt hoofsteps approaching.

Instead, a noose of Arcana wrapped around her neck and pulled her up, choking her in the process. Her hooves clutched at the invisible and incorporeal hand squeezing the life out of her, but there wasn’t anything physically there to fight against. She was left to flail as she was brought face to face with a black unicorn with blue eyes, his horn awash in an emerald glow.

“Commander Typhoon,” the unicorn spoke. His voice was calm, smooth, and deep, and his teeth flashed white as a malignant smile spread across his face. “You should not have come here. You were much better off staying in the castle and dealing with the symptoms of our little plans rather than trying to find the cause.”

The grip on her neck loosened just enough for her to breathe, and the rush of oxygen to her brain allowed her to put two and two together. The unicorn holding her captive and threatening to squeeze the life out of her body was the target she had been chasing earlier. She kicked herself over and over in her mind. She should have known this was a trap! But the unicorn had been so convincing in pretending that he thought he had lost Typhoon and her soldiers. Because of that, all her caution had meant nothing in the end.

“Who are you?” she gasped, finding enough air to cough out the word, “Are you the one behind this?”

The unicorn smiled. “Not I, Cirran. Others. Others whom you’ll never meet. After all,” he said, smiling cruelly, “it’s hard to meet them when you’re dead.”

Typhoon tried to swing at his horn with a foreleg, but she was an inch too far. Frowning, the unicorn’s horn flared up again, and he slammed her into the ground while reapplying the pressure to her neck. “Now now, there’s no need for that.” Pulling a knife out of a pocket in his robes, he held it up to Typhoon’s face. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk about our feelings in private.”

“Pr… private?” Typhoon wheezed. Her vision was beginning to fade on her. She needed to breathe, and soon.

The unicorn nodded. “A little someplace quite far from here. After all, I can’t just kill you; I need to know what you know first. And I know just how to get it.” The tip of his dagger ran along Typhoon’s cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.

The Praetorian was too occupied with struggling to breathe to notice. “You won’t get… anything from a… corpse.”

The black unicorn’s smile actually struck fear into Typhoon’s heart. “No. That’s where you’re wrong.”

Standing up, he took the dagger away from Typhoon’s face, but kept her pinned to the ground. “It’s much, much easier to get what you want from a corpse. They don’t fight back.” His horn flared one last time.

The blade sunk deep into Typhoon’s chest, right between her ribs, and quickly turned red as blood bubbled around it with each slowing beat of the mare’s heart.

Chapter 4: Sun and Stars

Tall, dark trees stood proud and silent around Commander Hurricane, their stony bark crawling its way up to the tops of the silent bastions of nature. The monolithic sentinels, some nearly ten feet across at the base, stood as testament to the ever-marching passage of time. Their broad leaves and gnarled branches strangled the setting sun, casting dark and splotchy shadows across the springy and cool soil. Birds twittered to each other in the trees, and Hurricane could see a pair of squirrels watching him from a low-hanging branch, each clutching at acorns held against their breasts.

Hurricane stopped and looked at them for a few moments. “You’d make a good dinner,” he told them, his hoof touching the hunting knife strapped to his breast. “A few herbs and spices and I’ve got myself a nice stew.”

The squirrels looked at each other before darting up and away, climbing higher into the thick canopy of the tree they called home.

The stallion shrugged and continued his walk. “Lucky I’m not hungry, anyway,” he muttered as he weaved his way between a series of massive tree trunks.

If he squinted, Hurricane could see the massive spire of the Mountain of Dawn through the canopy on his right. The forest was incredibly dense, and the pegasus had been forced to drop below the canopy and search for his target on hoof. There was no way he’d be able to pick out a lone pony moving through the shadows from above. Instead, Hurricane was doing his best to reconstruct the thief’s steps through the wilderness and pursue him on the ground.

Whoever the thief was, he was good. If Hurricane didn’t have the map and a general location for where the thief’s potential hideout was, he would never have been able to track him. Still, there was the occasional sign along the way for Hurricane to know he was on the right path: a tuft of blue fur gripped in a piece of bark; a few oddly kicked around stones; a hoofprint in the mud. Hurricane could only smile to himself as he moved deeper and deeper into the forest; by the looks of things, his target was heading exactly where Hurricane thought he would go.

He came across a small river running through the woods, its waters clear and sparkling in the setting sunlight. Fluttering down to the edge of the water, Hurricane sat down on some pebbles and pulled out his half-emptied canteen. Gripping the canteen between the feathers of his wing, he dipped it into the stream, letting the cool water splash its way through the opening and onto his wings. Corking the canteen back up, Hurricane removed his helmet and bent down to take a long, refreshing drink right from the cool, bubbling source. He didn’t realize how much he had been sweating underneath his armor in the humid summer air until he took the time to cool off.

A snap of a twig. Hurricane’s head darted up and he widened his wings on instinct, quickly scanning the trees. Everything was still and silent. Perking his ears up, Hurricane held his breath and blocked out the noise of the stream behind him. He couldn’t hear anything; that was what unsettled him the most. The birds high in the trees had fallen silent, and even the cicadas in the dirt stilled their chirping. The whole forest seemed to be watching, waiting.

Hurricane carefully picked his galea up off the ground and slid it back on his head. Giving the woods one last cautious look, he fluttered over the stream and continued to hunt for signs of his target. If the pony was smart, he’d try to stick along the river to lose anypony else following him. Now, however, the smallest distraction was working its way into Hurricane’s mind.

He knew somepony or something was following him, stalking him. He had heard the twig snap, and although he might have been getting older, he still trusted his senses with his life. He did not imagine the noise; somepony stepped on a twig and then stilled themselves in the hopes that Hurricane wouldn’t notice them. Well, Hurricane hadn’t spotted them, but the raising hairs at the base of his neck told him he was being watched and followed, even if he couldn’t see the pony in the shadows of the forest.

The graying stallion was so concerned with trying to locate his tail that he nearly missed a tiny square of cloth caught in the brush of a bramble bush. Stopping, he backtracked to the plant and pulled it out. It was fresh fabric, hardly worn and recently torn. Frowning, he tossed the miniscule piece of cloth into the wind, where it immediately fluttered away and out of sight. He was still on the right track, but the birds were still silent and he could almost feel eyes burning through his armor.

Taking a deep breath, Hurricane trotted back towards the water’s edge before consulting his map. The ground was open here; he’d have a second’s warning if anything tried to attack him, which was much better than the cover afforded by the undergrowth and trees that a cunning assassin could use to sneak up to him.

Pulling the map case out of his saddlebag with a wing, Hurricane bit the cap off and emptied the scroll into his hooves. His eyes darted around the trees one last time before he turned his attention to the map. By his best judgment, if he followed the river for another quarter of a mile and cut a left through a thicket of trees, he’d make his way to where he could only suppose the thief and any of his comrades would be holding up.

Something moved in the trees above, a blurry, dark shape that effortlessly jumped from one branch to the next and disappeared. Hurricane scowled as he put the map back away. If his tail was smart, they’d attack him in the midst of that thicket where there was poor visibility and a lot of cover. With how dark it was getting outside, Hurricane had no doubt that they’d be able to get the jump on him, possibly with a dagger clutched between their teeth.

He considered flying the rest of the distance, but that wasn’t a reasonable option. If the thief had deviated from the river at all, Hurricane needed to know, else he’d lose him again. Also, with his hunter apparently jumping from tree limb to tree limb, it wasn’t much of a stretch to assume that Hurricane would likely end up getting tackled out of the air before he got his chance to gain any real altitude.

Hurricane double-checked that his sword was unlatched and loosened in its scabbard, ready to be whipped out at a moment’s notice. Walking away from the water, the Praetorian Commander made a show of his angled wings, making sure that his pursuer saw the warning. Pulling back his upper lip in a sneer, Hurricane walked deeper into the forest, keeping one eye open for the pony following him while the other searched for clues to the thief’s position.

It didn’t take the commander long to make his way to the thicket of trees guarding the entrance to what he had every reason to believe was the thief’s hideout. As if he needed further proof, he could see a crude warning nestled in between the tree branches, made of little more than a rusted sword coated in dried blood pierced through the bark of a tree.

Hurricane frowned, and he stepped forward to inspect the weapon, still keeping a careful eye on his surroundings. The warning was simple, effective, but decidedly understated for any of the raider or bandit groups that he knew of. He could always assume that it was simply a new group organizing themselves and staking out their first real hideaway, but even then, the warning was too subtle and plain to be the work of the lawless ponies that lived away from the Legion’s reach. If anything, it was a group much more organized than raiders and with a focus on being unnoticed rather than terrorizing the minds of nearby settlers.

The tree directly in front of him creaked. Looking up, Hurricane was almost positive he could see the very faint edges of a shadowed figure perched in the branches. Glaring at the shadow, Hurricane drew his sword and looked back between the trees, to where he could barely see the piled stone at the foot of the Mountain. From here, it looked to be piled around fifty feet tall, but Hurricane couldn’t tell how far down the ground dipped before it finally met the outcropping.

There was only one way to find out.

Arching his wings, Hurricane began to walk through the thicket of trees with his skysteel blades pointed straight up. If anything were to try and drop onto his back from above, a simple flick of his wings would open the blades to their full, terrifying length and eviscerate a descending body. His ears were perked up, and he held his breath, waiting for a noise. His hooves padded softly over moss and grass until he was about halfway through the thicket.

A tree branch creaked to the left.

Hurricane immediately rose up on his hind legs and flared his wings out, striking upwards with all the might he could muster. He felt a downward ripple of air accompanying a frantic flapping as a pegasus rolled to the side to dodge the suddenly rising wingblades. Pivoting on a hind hoof, Hurricane swung the Gladius Procellarum upwards, towards the suddenly vulnerable body of his assailant. The air hissed as the sword glowed with all four types of Empatha at once, leaving sparks of fire in its wake even as the metal became coated in frost. Electricity sparkled along the infinitely sharp edge of the blade, and the air rippled with sonic force as the sword cut it apart.

Instead of catching a solid blow that left his attacker split in two or more pieces, Hurricane’s eyes widened as the unnaturally dark pegasus contorted in a way he didn’t think physically possible to scrape past the sword. Hurricane felt Procellarum bite a shallow line through the hide of the pegasus, but the discharge of thunder from the length of the steel sent the attacker flying through the trees. Branches and bushes cracked in the shadows as his body plowed through them, and Hurricane could hear a quiet grunt as the pony came to a backbreaking stop against a tree.

Backpedaling, Hurricane worked his way into the clearing on the other side of the thicket of trees. His ambusher had lost his tactical advantage now, for whatever good it had done him in the first place. Now, he would have to fight on more even grounds, and on terms decidedly in the Praetorian Commander’s favor.

As the pegasus emerged from the undergrowth with brambles clinging onto his coat, Hurricane was forced to reevaluate the situation. The pegasus, first of all, was abnormally tall and muscular. Hurricane himself was a tall stallion, but this pegasus probably had an inch on him, and he was much wider. His coat was a midnight blue, and his eyes were yellow and slitted. Fangs revealed themselves alongside a ferocious roar, and the strange pegasus flared its leathery wings in an aggressive stance.

Hurricane clutched tighter to his sword. The only thing he could think of that this pony reminded him of was Diadem’s description of the thief, except that this one was obviously some sort of pegasus bat-pony as opposed to a unicorn. Looking over his shoulder, Hurricane could see the entrance to a dark cave behind him. Refocusing his attention on his opponent, the commander began to advance. Once he had dispatched the bat pony, he’d take a look at that cave.

Hunching over, the bat pony dug its leathery wings into the ground and hunkered down. Hurricane knew what a charging position looked like, and he managed to brace himself the moment the pony tore its wings through the ground, rocketing across the clearing with alarming speed. For such a large pony, the pegasus had gained speed impossibly fast, leaving Hurricane precious few seconds to react.

Rather than stepping back, Hurricane rolled to the side, making sure to throw a wing up as the bat pony passed by. His wing scored a solid hit on the bat pony’s stomach, dripping strangely cold blood onto his feathers, but he hardly got the chance to notice. Despite his evasion, jaws still snapped shut inches from his neck, and a surprisingly strong hoof kicked him in the breast. The onyx armor deflected the physical damage with ease, but the blow still left him winded.

Dipping into his Empatha for a little energy, Hurricane rolled out of his dive just in time to catch the pegasus coming around again. This time, as the pegasus charged, Hurricane raised his sword and slammed it downwards. The bat pony was agile enough to dodge it, but not fast enough to escape Hurricane’s wingblade. The scales on the left blade managed to clip the bat pony’s wing, tearing through a tendon that made the wing suddenly lifeless. With a quiet grunt, the enemy pegasus fell onto his hooves and petered out the momentum from his charge on the ground.

Growling, the strange bat pony advanced again, this time flashing its teeth and transfixing Hurricane with a deeply intimidating stare. The world briefly narrowed down onto just the pegasus’ eyes, but Hurricane quickly shook his head, realizing that the bat pony was trying to Stare him down. Despite being a little shaken, Hurricane was able to raise his defenses just as the other pegasus got within range.

The pegasus immediately began with a lightning fast jab towards Hurricane’s jaw, but Hurricane could already tell from the blow he had taken earlier that it was anything but a simple punch. Leaning back, Hurricane dodged the first attack, then shimmied to the side as a second grazed within inches of his chin. Using his momentum, Hurricane swung his sword towards the pegasus’ exposed midsection, forcing his assailant to take a step back. The commander pressed his advantage, coupling a swing from a bladed wing and a sword jab with a broad slash from Procellarum that left the ground ablaze with fire. With a moment’s breather between him and his assailant, Hurricane allowed himself a chance to regroup and plan his next move.

Fire didn’t faze the bat pony for long, however, and soon the dark pegasus jumped back over the flames and rushed Hurricane again. This time, Hurricane countered with a charge of his own. The unexpected motion allowed him to slam a shoulderpiece directly into the bat pony’s chin, sending him backwards and giving Hurricane enough time to spin in a wide circle, his sword cutting dangerously through the air. The whirl climaxed in a thick, red line of scorched and frostburnt flesh that cut across the pegasus from shoulder to sternum, and Hurricane heard his opponent yelp in pain for the first time in the entire fight. Backpedaling, the strange pegasus tried to get some space to regroup. Hurricane let him have it, but not to cut his opponent any sort of slack.

Sparks crackled between his hind legs as he quickly planted his front hooves in the ground and began to pivot. The blue streaks of electricity began to jump from one limb to the other in higher, longer, brighter arcs, and the snapping of the air between them only intensified in volume. All this took barely a second, and no sooner had Hurricane kicked his rear hooves out did a bolt of pure lightning connect him to his foe. The Cirran was almost certain he heard the piercing screech as the bat pony’s body went rigid and spasmed before collapsing in a charred pile of flesh and bones. Smoke was already beginning to pour off of the fresh corpse by the time Hurricane’s hooves returned to the ground.

The surviving pegasus shook his head. “You were careful, but not careful enough.” Then, turning back towards the cave, Hurricane took a single step forward and immediately was blasted in the chest by an overwhelming surge of raw magical energy. The force behind the Arcana alone was enough to launch him a good sixty-five feet back through the air until he slammed into the thick trunk of a tree and slid to the bottom, where he lay, stunned.

His skin ached; his coat was scorched, and the void crystals in his armor were making that piercing ringing that he hated so much. Still, if it hadn’t have been for them, there was no doubt that the surge of Arcana would have vaporized him immediately. He was simply amazed that there was enough mana behind that blast to overwhelm the void crystals in his armor and actually hurt him.

Through the hazy and bleary corners of his vision, Hurricane saw a slender, black unicorn mare gallop to the body of the bat pony he had just killed. His ears were still ringing from the force of the blast and his own pain, but as his hearing returned to him, Hurricane could make out what the mare was saying.

“…got him, Little Brother. There’s no way that a mere pegasus should have been able to…” she shook her head, and Hurricane could hear the despair and sadness in her voice. “To have killed you.” Standing up, she placed a hoof down on the charred body’s face, presumably to close its eyes. “The Mistress will remember your sacrifice for her.”

Then, turning to Hurricane, the mare began to step forward, angrily at first, then with much more caution and confusion. When she was finally close enough that Hurricane could make out her face through his hazy vision, the unicorn stopped and muttered a few noises of disbelief.

“Wha… how? How did that not kill you?” Taking a step closer, she bent down and pointed to his still-ringing armor. “What sort of armor are you wearing? Are those… void crystals?”

Hurricane was still too badly disoriented and hurt to reply. Instead, he loosely flopped his neck back and looked the unicorn over. He jumped back a bit in shock as he realized that she too shared the other bat pony’s coat coloration, eyes and teeth. Her horn was not a spiraling and straight thing like a normal unicorn’s horn; hers was long, curved, and without any sort of grooves, instead honed to a lethal edge that Hurricane had no doubt could punch through most armors. Despite the imminent danger he was in, all Hurricane could think about was how he must have gone to the right place if he had found two kinds of bat ponies, and the thief he was looking for was supposedly one as well.

The mare angrily drew back her lips, revealing several rows of sharp and fanged teeth clenched together. “You killed him!” she spat, almost wailing through her anger. “You killed Little Brother! I’m going to make you pay for that! Nopony hurts one of our own!” Her horn began to charge with energy again, and Hurricane knew that at this range, his enchanted armor wasn’t going to save him again. The bat pony’s horn brightened until it was a beacon of unholy wrath, ready to vaporize the Cirran at any second.

“Stop!”

The mare’s horn suddenly went dark as the new voice reached the two of them. Stiffening, the unicorn immediately backed away from Hurricane and turned to face the new voice, which Hurricane could hardly see around her body. Taking a step forward, she began in a pleading voice, “Mistress, I—”

“That is enough, Third Sister,” the other voice interrupted. It was a mare’s voice, firm, authoritative, and very regal in its inflection. Hurricane could tell that hers was a voice that was never questioned and gave orders, never taking them. “Now stand aside; let me see what sort of pony could actually manage to kill a thestral.”

“A pegasus,” the bat pony apparently known as Third Sister spat as she stepped aside. “He kicked lightning; I’ve never seen it done before.”

“Hmmm. Then perhaps he can share a few things with us.” The other mare said as she stepped into Hurricane’s field of vision.

She was unlike any pony Hurricane had ever seen before. First of all, she was unreasonably tall. Although it was hard to tell exactly how tall she was from his current position, Hurricane figured she was probably around four and a half feet at the shoulder, and her body was well proportioned to match. The long horn on her forehead only exaggerated her size, and powerful wings were coiled by her sides. Her coat was a deep blue, but her mane and tail somehow shimmered and flowed with an ethereal presence. Tiny pinpricks of light filled them, looking almost exactly like the night sky. As the towering pony moved to stand directly over Hurricane, all the Cirran could do was mouth the name that came to his mind, however impossible it had to have been.

“Lūn…?”

The tall mare looked shocked, and she took a step back. “Wait a minute, how could you possibly know my—?”

But it was too late. Hurricane finally succumbed to the burning agony flowing through his coat and blacked out.

Twister’s eyes stung and her jaw ached. Her teeth were so tightly clenched together that it was a surprise she hadn’t broken one already. Her body shuddered, and she rested her trembling forehooves on the windowsill to try and still herself.

Behind her, a tired, forest green pegasus watched her sadly. He held his helmet pinned under a wing at his side, the feathers beginning to fray and grow silver, despite him being only forty years old. His armor was scratched and worn, and could probably use a good polish, but the wilderness tended to mar it enough anyway that he had long since abandoned the practice when he knew he’d be going out into the field. After all, scout centurions had only themselves for protection when they were far from home, and polished armor would make it that much harder to hide.

Twister swallowed hard and took a moment to catch her breath before she spoke. “And you’re… you’re sure? She couldn’t have just followed an urgent lead without telling us?” She stared out the window as she spoke, worried that she’d break into tears if she saw the expression on the scout centurion’s face.

The stallion standing on the other side of Twister’s desk shook his head. “I’m sorry, Legatus. My wife heard the blast from the Choke when she changed shifts with Legate Run Down. It took her a few minutes to get the numbers together to safely see what was going on, but by then whatever had happened was already over.”

The Cirran Legatus could feel her shoulders collapsing as quickly as her spirit was breaking. Bracing herself, she turned around to face the soldier. Her eyes stung as she held back tears, and she very, very shakily moved herself to her chair. She collapsed, and if she could have sunken into the chair and hidden from the whole mess, she would have. As it stood, she only sagged about two inches into the plush before her elbows found their place on the table. Sighing, she leaned forward until her hooves were cutting into her brow. Her shoulders began to shake, violently.

Biting his lip, the centurion hesitated a moment before walking around the table and placing a hoof on Twister’s shoulder. He didn’t say anything, but the simple contact seemed to be what the mare needed to keep herself from breaking down. Shivering, she eventually looked up and nodded, gratitude in her eyes. “Thank you, Pathfinder.”

Pathfinder managed a light smile. “Please, just Finder is fine.”

Twister managed a shaky nod. “Right… sorry. Finder, what… what did Iron Rain find?”

Finder chewed on his cheek as he walked back around the desk. “Bodies. Lots of them. The majority were earth ponies and unicorns, most of whom looked like they were from the slums. My wife says that every one of the ponies they searched had one of these on them.” Reaching into his saddlebag, he flipped a silver brooch onto the table. Twister reached forward, picking it up with an unsteady hoof.

It was a small silver pendant, finely crafted and very recently made. Its design was fairly ornate, consisting of three elongated points attached to a semicircular base, with the central point considerably longer than the two on its sides. A small pair of filigree wings stuck out at the sides, each tapering out into a jagged edge at the primaries.

“This is… their symbol?” Twister asked. “I’ve seen the work of a lot of gangs or organizations over the years, but I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

Pathfinder shrugged. “I can only imagine.”

Twister set the brooch down on the corner of her desk, intending to investigate it later. Then, taking another shuddering breath, she turned back to Finder. “And… what else did Rain find?”

Finder began to dig through his other, bulging saddlebag with a wing while he talked. “Well, there was a crater where a huge amount of Arcana was detonated. She found two of the centurions Typhoon had taken with her in… several pieces. A third was found a ways down the street with a hole burnt through her wing and several through her breast. We don’t know what happened to the fourth.”

Twister shook her head. “I’ll have to notify the families then, in addition to everything else I have to do…”

Pathfinder coughed awkwardly. “Rain told me that the ponies responsible had taken their documentation. Notifying the families won’t be very easy.”

The mare was stunned. “They what?” she asked with no small amount of rage. She didn’t believe that the ponies responsible were anything short of radicals, but to hear this? This put them on a whole lower level. Stealing papers and preventing the Legion from notifying a soldier’s family of their passing was downright unholy.

Finder took a step back as tongues of fire began to lick at the wings of the untrained pegasus seated across from him.

Twister’s brow furrowed in hatred, but that soon gave way to a simple tiredness. “Unthinkable,” she muttered to herself. Then, she remembered her sorrow and worry that her sudden veil of anger had clouded from her. “And you said that… Typhoon was missing?”

“Rain didn’t find the body,” Finder began carefully, “but she did find something else.” Finally pulling his wing out of the bulging saddlebag, he place a twisted and damaged helmet on Twister’s desk. The Legatus immediately recognized the onyx galea, and her hooves gingerly picked it up.

“Gods… no…” she whispered, holding the thing in front of her. Blood stained the inside of the helmet, and the plume of black horsehair in the crest was charred and altogether in disarray. The right cheekpiece was terribly mangled, rendering the helmet useless, little more than scrap.

“It’s Commander Typhoon’s helmet, alright” Pathfinder said, nodding towards the galea. “But Rain and her soldiers didn’t find the body. It’s hard to know what exactly happened to her; blood splatters on the ground only mean so much if you have the body to go along with them.”

Twister felt her lip tremble. Despair was crushing down on her; for the second time, her brother had lost his daughter while he was away. And unlike five years ago, where they knew where Typhoon was, this time there wasn’t even a trail they could follow. The ponies that had killed her centurions and possibly killed her as well had up and disappeared along with her body.

Then her thoughts turned to a much more sensitive issue. “Tempest… oh, no. This is terrible.” Shivering, she pressed her hooves to her heart. “The poor colt doesn’t have a father, and knowing Typhoon, she was never going to bring a stallion into her house to fill the void. If Typhoon doesn’t come back…” her voice trailed off, the obvious end to her train of thought hanging heavily in the air.

Finder stared at his hooves. He had visited Twister’s office before when the little scamp was playing soldier or otherwise causing a ruckus. The foal was so happy and his childhood was so perfect, even if he questioned the absence of his father from time to time. For a moment, his mind flashed back to the Red Cloud War and how it had torn his childhood to shreds for reasons he had purposefully forced into the deepest, darkest corners of his mind. Those memories haunted him late at night and were the reason he found more solace in the bottom of a tankard than in the company of other ponies.

He saw the happy foal again in his mind. He didn’t want that to be Tempest’s life. He knew better than most that it was not a happy one.

Stepping forward, he straightened his back. “Legatus, if I may.”

Twister didn’t look up from the table. “What?”

Pathfinder cleared his throat. “I will go and find Commander Typhoon. Whatever the cost, however long it takes, I’ll make sure to bring her home to her family… one way or another.”

Twister tapped her hooves together and sniffled. “I… thank you, centurion.”

Pathfinder waved a hoof. “Just Finder’s fine, ma’am.”

A touch of a faint smile pulled at Twister’s lips, and she mirrored Pathfinder. “Just Twister’s fine, sir.”

The stallion chuckled. “So it comes around.” He became serious again. “I’ll gather my things and be on my way as soon as I can. The faster we act, the easier the trail will be to follow. Whoever did this, they’ve already got a day’s start on us. If I leave tonight, I should hopefully be able to pick it up with a little sniffing around.”

The legatus nodded. “Please be careful. I don’t need these bastards claiming any more good legionaries than they already have.”

Pathfinder smiled. “Twister, I’ve been dodging death my entire life. I wouldn’t know what to do if it wasn’t on my tail all the time.” Then, shaking his head, he added, “I’ll try to find her fast so maybe—just maybe—little Tempest doesn’t have to worry about his mommy being gone. If I can get her back in a week…”

“I’ll tell him that she’s on an important mission to keep the bad guys away,” Twister said. “But sooner or later he’ll have to know the truth. Just please, please don’t make me have to tell him that his mommy’s gone and she won’t be coming back.”

Finder looked into Twister’s pleading eyes and bit his lip. “I know. I’ll do everything I can. Just… be strong for him.” Taking a step back, he gathered up his things. “I’ll bring my wife with me. She can take care of anything that these damn rebels pit against us. I don’t intend on leaving any bodies not wearing that brooch behind.”

Twister leaned back in her chair. “Thank you again, Finder. I know that you’ll find her for us. I wouldn’t trust anypony else with this.”

The stallion’s expression became glum. “I’ve buried a daughter of my own. I don’t want your brother to have to do the same. If she’s still alive… I’ll bring her back. Little Tempest isn’t going to grow up an orphan.”

Saluting one last time, Pathfinder turned around and walked through the door, gently closing it behind him. As the sound of his hoofsteps faded down the stone corridor, Twister sat at her desk silently. It took her several seconds before she moved or made a noise.

Turning around in her chair, she pulled it up to the window and rested her hooves against it. Dark clouds were drawing over Everfree, and within minutes, thick, heavy raindrops pattered against the glass. A distant rumble of thunder accompanied a flash of light, and the summer rains fell heavily over the city, flowing in waves as the wind ran down the streets.

While cool and refreshing rain landed outside of the castle, warm and pained rain gently dropped against the windowsill inside.

Typhoon wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted simply to breathe. But she couldn’t. No matter how hard she tried, she felt nothing. The longer she went without breathing, the more frightened she became, especially once she realized that she somehow didn’t need to.

She had nearly died in the hospital following her duel with Cyclone. She knew what the kiss of death felt like. But this wasn’t that. Everything was dark and hollow and cold. If she could shiver, she would have, but she couldn’t feel her body. It was like she was frozen. Her soul felt frozen.

“It’s much, much easier to get what you want from a corpse. They don’t fight back.”

Part of Typhoon worried that the unicorn’s words were more than just a threat.

She’d been stuck, suspended in the empty void for… well, she wasn’t sure how long now. There was no sense of time in this place. What could be days or weeks could easily have passed as minutes or hours, and vice-versa. Sleeping felt no different than being awake, and at the moment, Typhoon couldn’t tell which she was doing. She had nothing but her own thoughts with her in this void.

“Tempest is going to grow into a spiteful stallion with both his parents gone.”

Oh, the voices, too. They had started a few days ago. Or maybe it was just a few minutes ago. Either way, Typhoon was seriously hoping they’d be quiet and leave her alone.

She imagined herself growling at the voice. It had to pass, since she couldn’t feel her throat or draw a breath to make a sound.

“Hello?” she thought as loudly as she could. It was a strange concept—thinking loudly—but it was the only thing she really could do. “Is anypony out there? Please, I—where am I? What is this place? Hello?”

Her thoughts sounded pitifully weak and scared. Typhoon tried to take a breath and regroup her wits about her, but whatever empty realm she was trapped in kept her unnerved and succeeded in dashing back to the far corners of infinity. Somewhere, she was sure that she was shivering, if she even had her body left. She tried to look around the void again, but without a head, neck, or eyes to move, such was impossible.

Garbled ramblings and traces of ideas came to her. It was strange, being stripped of everything physical. The only thing left of herself (if there was anything left) was simply her consciousness, suspended in only Garuda knows what realm. She formed a quick prayer to Garuda, asking him to guide her soul to the Great Skies if she was truly dead. Doubt plucked at the back of her mind, given form by one of those annoying voices that kept talking to her.

“What if this is the Great Skies, Typhoon? What if there’s just nothing but Us for the rest of eternity? Heehee! Think about that! You and me and you, forever and ever and ever until after is before again! Wouldn’t that be so much fun!”

Typhoon imagined herself clenching her teeth together. “No!” her thoughts screamed. “Go away! Go away go away go away! I don’t want to be with you! Get out of my head!”

She thought she could almost hear a gleeful chuckle from another voice. “Your head, Typhoon? Don’t you know? We don’t have a head left!”

Typhoon could feel panic welling where her chest would be, should be. “W-what? What do you mean?!”

“We’re dead! We’re gone! We’re having a deep sleep! It’s game over. Can’t you tell? We’ve passed into the void!”

The panic Typhoon was feeling seemed like it was actually going to scatter her very being into oblivion. “No! This isn’t it! This isn’t the Great Skies! This is… this is nothing!”

“Everything is nothing!” a particularly vile voice hissed from somewhere in the void. “And this nothing is our everything! It is our home! It is our family! It is OUR GRAVE!!”

Typhoon’s thoughts became a whimper. “No! No, no, no! It’s not! It’s not!”

A deep voice from somewhere else took the vile one’s place. “Oh, you scared her! Scared us!” Its words dripped sarcasm and a poisonous lilt that made it seem to be mocking Typhoon. If she knew where it was, she would have shied away from it. But just like everything else, it was everywhere and nowhere.

As if reading her thoughts, the vile voice returned. “This nothing is our everything, Typhoon! Now and forever…”

Typhoon screamed and screamed and screamed. The voices only cackled cruelly, madly, from within every shred of her being.

Light suddenly piercing the world caused Typhoon to stop screaming. Panting, she immediately tried to move, to know that she was real again. Something stopped her. Already short on breath, the panicked mare gasped and struggled. The slightest feeling of resistance told her that she had a body. Her struggles immediately gave way, and all she could do was lie there, weeping, thanking every god she could think of that the voices had stopped.

When the tears finally stopped flowing from her eyes and wetting her cheeks, Typhoon looked around her. The walls of the building were solid stone, set not all that long ago. The room was open and airy, and a number of windows lined the walls. Each one was open, letting in the wonderful summer breeze. It toyed with the drapes and carelessly flipped a few papers lying on a nearby desk. The olive drab stallion sitting at that desk cursed, and his horn lit up in a golden glow, pulling his notes back to him. The bells on the edge of his starry blue hat and robes tinkled gently at the movement.

“Star… Swirl?” Typhoon croaked. Her throat was terribly parched, like she hadn’t drank in days. Although, considering the experience she had just come from, she might very well have been out for days.

The archmage’s ears perked at his name. “Oh, Typhoon!” he said, turning around in his seat. “You’re awake! Sun and Stars, child, I didn’t think you’d ever wake up!” Stretching his arthritic limbs, he stood up and moved towards the Praetorian, hobbling slightly with each step.

“Wh...what happened?” Typhoon whispered. Looking over her body, she felt a huge wash of relief to know that it actually existed and was still part of her. Still, she took note of the straps holding her down to the bed. “Am why… am I tied down?”

Star Swirl chuckled, the sound gentle and grandfatherly. “When I found you, you were thrashing about with a black dagger between your ribs. I had to knock you comatose with a spell and bring you back here before you bled out or did any more harm to yourself. I’m sorry if the side effects of that were… less than pleasant.”

His horn lit up again, and he levitated over a canteen of water, placing it against Typhoon’s lips. “Drink,” he commanded, tipping it back. The mare’s body relaxed, and the corners of her lips pulled into a smile as she finally quenched her thirst. After a few seconds, Star Swirl levitated the canteen away and set it on the table next to Typhoon.

Licking her lips, the Cirran nodded. “Thanks, Star Swirl.”

Star Swirl waved a hoof. “Don’t mention it. I should have taken care of this earlier.” Then, pulling over a stool with his magic, he sat down by Typhoon’s side and held one of her restrained forelegs.

“How long have I been out?” Typhoon asked weakly. She was feeling a little dizzy from her harrowing experience earlier, and she still thought she could feel the whispers plucking at the back of her mind. She shook her head, and thankfully that seemed to scatter them away.

“Two days,” Star Swirl intoned, letting go of Typhoon’s hoof. The mare frowned, already missing the comfort of another pony. “I’ve kept you locked up in the higher chambers of the castle this entire time. For your own safety, of course.”

Typhoon nodded. “Of course.” Furrowing her brow, she looked around the room, noting the absence of any other signs that other ponies had been here. “Did my dad return yet? Does Twister know I’m okay? Does…” she gulped on the name. “Does Tempest know anything?”

“Little Tempest did not know that you were in peril,” Star Swirl said, stroking Typhoon’s cheek. “Your father is… yes, Hurricane did return from… wherever it was he was off to.” He shook his head. “As for Twister, she made a fuss and sent some soldiers to try and find you, when you were in this building the whole time. I did not expect that news of your disappearance would be able to get to her ears faster than I would be able to tell her of your recovery.”

The mare smiled. “Don’t doubt Twister; she has eyes and ears in all the right places.”

“So I’ve learned,” the archmage chuckled, “so I’ve learned.” Something clicked at his desk, and Typhoon looked over to see a little gemstone rhythmically pulsate a few times before dying down again. Standing up, the archmage walked to the desk and checked it. He sighed, shaking his head and tutting.

“What is it?” Typhoon asked, trying to turn and see, but being held down by the straps on her bed. She glowered at them before adding, “and can you unstrap me from this thing?”

“Duty calls,” Star Swirl said, gathering his things and tucking them back into his robes. “Seems that Diadem and Clover are making another breakthrough on void crystal research. I’m needed to verify the results.” Then, turning back to Typhoon, his horn flared to life. “Here, let me help you.”

Typhoon relaxed, waiting for the straps to be released. She was surprised and nearly choked when instead of releasing, they tightened, so much so that she could hardly move, hardly breathe. “Ack! Wh-what? Star…Swirl…!”

Star Swirl looked down on her, smiling cruelly. “I did not know that Hurricane was gone. This is… interesting indeed.”

Typhoon gasped.

The voice that had come out of Star Swirl’s mouth was definitely not the kindly unicorn’s.

“You… what?!” Typhoon exclaimed with what breath she had. “Who are you! What have you done to Star Swirl?!”

The pony wearing Star Swirl’s face sneered at her. “That’s none of your concern, Praetorian.” Then, looking at the canteen on the desk, he picked it up in his magic and pressed it to Typhoon’s lips. “Please, you still look thirsty. Do be a dear and drink up.”

Typhoon gagged as the water came pouring down her throat. She moved her tongue up to the spout, to try and stop the flow, to try and push the canteen out, but she couldn’t reach it, couldn’t get it to move. Her lips were suddenly frozen around the canteen. She squealed and thrashed her head back and forth, but bizarrely it stayed in place.

Water continued to pour down her throat, faster than Typhoon could swallow it.

The pony that wasn’t Star Swirl gave one last evil smile at her and turned away. He began whistling to himself as he walked across the room and out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Typhoon could hear the clicking of tumblers falling into place through her own panicked and desperate attempts to remove the bottle.

Her stomach hurt. Her lungs burned. She couldn’t swallow all this water so quickly. And it wasn’t stopping, despite it being a small canteen.

Typhoon tried to lunge up, but the strap across her chest pushed her down that much harder, forcing her to cough. The coughing forced her to trade precious air for cold water, filling her lungs. It only made her cough and retch harder, and that only made more water fill her lungs.

Searing pain blistered across the back of her eyes as her body involuntarily thrashed and flailed. A white-hot darkness swept across her vision, and soon her writhing and dying body disappeared from her once more.

“Things are falling apart. That’s what I’m seeing. I don’t know about you, your highness, but I know that something needs to be done if we’re going to keep Equestria whole.”

“And what do you think I have been trying to do, Mayor Greenleaf? I’ve been putting all manner of reforms to Parliament. I’ve been spending day and night with Star Swirl writing and drafting decrees. Chancellor Puddinghead and I meet daily to try and talk about what needs to be done. Perhaps the only good thing lately is that Commander Hurricane up and left on some fancy of his, so now we might be able to push through some military reforms to try and give the protesters what they want.”

“Like you’d get much done with the Legatus in your way. Whatever Hurricane wants, Twister pushes, no matter what it might be. She isn’t going to be a pushover and let you do what you want, Platinum.”

“I’m sure there’s something we can do.”

“She may be a smaller mare, but you know how she is. She’s dangerous even on her own. She might not kill you with a sword, but she’ll crucify your political career if you cross her. Besides, making an enemy of her makes you an enemy of Hurricane and the entire Legion. Don’t try it.”

Pan Sea cocked his head. He was seated on one of the rafters in the roof of Mayor Greenleaf’s office. Forty feet below, Queen Platinum and Mayor Greenleaf were discussing politics while having a spot of tea. The shadows in the ceiling were perfect for letting the demure stallion eavesdrop on their conversation while remaining entirely unnoticed.

Platinum was free of her robes for once, the luxurious garments and silver crown hung in the corner of the room next to Mayor Greenleaf’s official robes. The white mare levitated her teacup to her lips for a very ladylike sip before setting it back down on the floating plate. “Humph. Cirrans and their Legion. It’s been twenty-five years since they came to us, haggard, dying, and desperate, and nothing has changed. All they’ve done is rebuild their nation in the image of its past. The coup by Cyclone five years ago is likely the first of many attempts to reconstruct their empire. When Hurricane’s gone, Celestis only knows who will fill the power vacuum that follows.”

Greenleaf settled deeper into his seat. He was an older unicorn stallion with an evergreen coat and a solidly gray mane and tail. His eyes were a deep, iridescent shade of purple, and anypony who looked into them could tell that he was incredibly intelligent. Still, as a unicorn, he was severely lacking in arcane talent, despite being the son of Star Swirl the Bearded, and Clover the Clever’s father. It was through no natural lack of talent; his horn was withered and black, or a very dark, sickly green at its best. He had once been a prisoner at Onyx Ridge, the fortress Warlord Halite and the other barbarians had controlled in the western Compact Lands, and the void rings they used to suffocate his Arcana had given him irreversible void poisoning.

When Queen Jade and the Crystal Union sieged Onyx Ridge, he had escaped along with Clover, Platinum, and Diadem. When the two unicorns from River Rock had continued on with their search for new lands, Greenleaf had led an expedition of his own, taking with him the survivors from Onyx Ridge and planting the roots of Everfree City. Being the founder of Equestria’s capital city, he had run for mayor unopposed during both of the position’s elections. The ponies of Everfree looked up to him and respected him as much as, if not more than, the three ponies who ran the nation.

No wonder Twister had her suspicions about the stallion, even though Pan Sea couldn’t understand them.

“I would imagine it would go to his daughter, Typhoon,” Greenleaf said, seemingly confused by the question. “Unless something’s changed.”

“Typhoon is dead,” Platinum said, flatly.

Greenleaf’s eyes snapped back to Platinum. “…What? When?”

Platinum shifted positions, setting her tea down on the table at her side. “She disappeared yesterday. Apparently she was investigating leads in the slums, and her group of soldiers was ambushed. The ponies who went in later found bits and pieces of them, but nothing more. As far as we know, the mare’s dead.”

Greenleaf scratched his head. “Did they recover her body?”

“No, but if whoever attacked her was able to take out a Cirran praetorian and her companions, she’s good as gone. We might find the body again—nailed to a cross, perhaps.” The mare shuddered. “Typhoon was a good mare. I’m sad to see her gone, and I feel terrible for her little foal. Celestis, I can’t imagine how Hurricane will feel…”

The mayor’s hooves tapped back and forth. “Succession of the Legion would go to Tempest then, after Hurricane finally retires.”

Platinum leaned forward. “But what happens if Hurricane doesn’t return? Or if he dies in the next few years? Sun and Stars know he isn’t going to retire if Typhoon’s dead until his grandson is old enough to take his place. But if Tempest is too young when Hurricane’s no longer there, who takes the mantle?”

“I would imagine somepony in Hurricane’s family.”

“That’s just it though. Legatus Twister doesn’t know how to run an army. She’s a much better politician, and she knows it. Her husband’s a master blacksmith for the Legion, but a blacksmith nonetheless. And her two daughters are anything but military types. There’s no clear line of succession from Hurricane’s blood to fill the gap.”

Pan Sea frowned from where he sat. The more the two unicorns talked, the more he wasn’t liking what he heard. They were talking about the line of succession as if Typhoon was already dead and Hurricane would be shortly after. It didn’t make any sense, unless…

He needed to talk to Twister.

“…chain of command. It is the Legion, after all. They know who holds what power and what happens to that power if something were to happen to the pony holding it,” Greenleaf was saying. He turned in his chair, looking at a framed portrait on his desk, but of what, Pan Sea couldn’t tell. “The pony best qualified would step up.”

“And who would those be?” Platinum asked, the tension in her voice rising. “Somepony in his Praetorian Guard? We’re good as dead if that happens, then. You may not remember what happened five years ago when Hurricane’s son led that little ‘visit’ of his to River Rock. He single-hoofedly swept the Praetorian Guard away from his father and sicced them on my city, and when Hurricane arrived, they went back to him, no questions asked. Do you know what would happen if one of those ponies were to take over?”

The green unicorn scratched a hoof through his mane. “They should still feel some obligation to their nation…”

“They follow who they think is in charge, without question. And we don’t know what the personal views of any of them are; apart from Typhoon and a few other notable commanders, they’re all faceless, all the same. The only differences are age and color and sex. Nopony knows what the pony inside their heads is like.”

Greenleaf was looking very uncomfortable. “Alright, I see what you’re hinting at. But what do you plan to do about it?”

Platinum’s magic reclaimed her tea again, and she held it out in front of her as she spoke. “What I’m saying is put somepony loyal in charge. Somepony who we know how he thinks.”

Greenleaf thought for a minute. “I think I’ve got an idea on somepony you might like.”

The Queen took a sip of her tea. “Please, do tell.”

“Well, I’ve had time to talk to a lot of the old Diamond Guard about what happened in River Rock. I found one unicorn general who was a captain when Cyclone’s legion entered the city.” Leaning to the side, he opened a drawer in his desk and hoofed a scroll towards Platinum. The mare held it in her Arcana and looked it over. “A stallion by the name of Chiseled Gem. From what I’ve gathered, he was fairly buddy-buddy with Hurricane at the time—or, that’s what he claims at least. Still, if he’s right, he’s a friendly enough face that putting him in charge in the absence of any sort of ‘heir’ to Hurricane would seem only natural.”

Pan Sea watched as Platinum furrowed her brow. He couldn’t read anything on the scroll at this distance, and he didn’t risk moving to try and get a better look. The room was so quiet at the moment that even the slightest move would easily be heard. All he could do was wait.

“How did you get this?” Platinum asked as she finally passed the document back to Greenleaf. “There are things on here that are… well, I wouldn’t call them classified, per se, but certainly very hush-hush.”

Greenleaf smiled and put the scroll back into the drawer in the desk and shut it. “Don’t ask me how. Let me just say that a mayor has access to a surprising number of documents that pass within his capitol.”

Platinum nodded and finished the last of her tea. “Hmm. Very well. I won’t pressure. After all, I trust you to do the right thing, Greenleaf. After everything you did for us at Onyx Ridge…” she paused, and her eyes focused on some faraway place.

Then she shook, and she was back in the present. “Regardless, this has been very informative, even if most of it was mere speculation and gossip. But now I have to get on with the other meeting I have to attend.” She shuddered and stuck out her tongue in disgust. “If that stallion hugs me again I might make him a mare. Painfully.”

The mayor chuckled and stood up, walking with Platinum towards the door. “Remember, patience is a virtue, your highness. The Chancellor can be painful to deal with, but he’s useful enough.”

“Right. I suppose I shall try to remember that, but it’s oh so easy to forget.” Stopping by the door, she gave Greenleaf a quick hug before opening it with her magic. “You should see Clover sometime, dear. I can’t remember the last time you were both in one place.”

Greenleaf abashedly scratched his neck. “Well, you know. I’ve been awfully busy lately, so it’s hard to get any free time to make plans.”

Platinum rolled her eyes. “You and her both. I see that working to the point of exhaustion runs in the family. I think the only reason Star Swirl isn’t the same way is because he’s growing senile.”

“Senile, or just not caring,” Greenleaf offered. “His former apprentice is an archmage like him, and she can handle herself on her own. He probably realizes he’s not needed as much as he used to be.”

“Well I’ll make sure that he knows just how much he’s appreciated next time I see him,” Platinum said. “And I’ll make sure you and your daughter get to spend some time together this weekend. If the weather keeps up, it’ll be a beautiful day for a picnic.”

Greenleaf smiled. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll try to clear up some time for Saturday. Tell my daughter I said ‘hi’.”

Platinum shook her head, smiling. “Using the nation’s queen as your own messenger. The things I do for you ponies…” She stepped out the door, and turned to wave one last time at Greenleaf. “Goodbye, Mayor. Until next time.”

Greenleaf bowed. “Of course, your highness.” Then, shuffling forward, he gently shut the door.

Pan Sea fidgeted where he sat. He wanted to get a look at that scroll, but Greenleaf was still in the room. Something told him the stallion wouldn’t take kindly to knowing that one of Hurricane’s closest friends was privy to his conversation with Platinum.

Muttering a few words under his breath, Greenleaf returned to his desk and sat down. He pulled out a few papers on his desk, becoming absorbed in his work. Up above, Pan Sea quietly stood up and began to move down the rafter beam. The pegasus knew he wasn’t going to get a chance to look at the scroll now. He’d have to come back later, when the mayor was gone.

Besides, he had to tell Twister what he had just heard. If her worst fears were confirmed… well, Pan Sea didn’t know what she would do next, but it sounded an awful lot like the protestors outside had infiltrated the government higher than she thought.

With hardly a sound, the small stallion slinked down the rafter beam, towards an open portcullis in the roof, and fluttered out into the open. Soon enough he was gone, leaving Greenleaf to his work, unaware that the fly on the wall was gone.

Hurricane groaned, rolling over on the stone floor. The cold and dampness trickled through his coat and caused him to shiver. That he could even feel it caused him to tense. He shouldn’t have been able to feel anything outside of his armor.

Sitting upright, Hurricane opened his eyes and gasped. The first thing he noticed was that he was in a dark cave. The second thing was that he was completely stripped of his weapons and armor. Third, when he moved his leg, he heard the distinct rattling of chains. Scowling, the aging pegasus scrambled to his hooves and looked out at the set of iron bars stretching from floor to ceiling, separating the small alcove he was trapped in from the rest of the cavern.

His head reeled as his memories came back to him. He had fought a… thestral? That was what the big mare had called them before he passed out. And the mare… he shook his head. She had looked like every depiction of the goddess Lūn, the Goddess of Secrets and Lady of the Night. Her tall figure, midnight blue coat and starry mane and tail were proof enough, and she had the body of a goddess—an alicorn. But… she couldn’t be out here. She was one of the gods. Why would she manifest herself on this world only to stay so far away from the pegasi? From the other ponies?

And why would she chain him up like some damn dog?

Hurricane shook his head and looked at the cuff around his leg. It was nimbus skysteel, the strongest kind there was, but he figured he could break it. Every metal, no matter how strong, warped and cracked with extreme temperature changes. The only question was could he break it and the cell bars and get out before Lūn or one of her thestrals came back?

Was it even a good idea to escape from Lūn? Maybe he should wait for her to come see him again. Or, with any luck, she was here with her sister, Celeste. The temples had always paired the two together, side by side. Hurricane could only hope they were right.

But still, some uncomfortable feeling itched at the back of his mind. Walking up to the bars, he carefully stuck out a hoof, careful of any traps of concealed spells. When his hoof passed right between the bars, he let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps this would be easier than he thought.

Moving back into the recesses of the alcove, Hurricane held his bound leg out to the side and closed his eyes, focusing. He first started with feelings of anger and resentment. His past dealings with Platinum and Puddinghead back in the Compact Lands immediately came to mind. So too did his fury when he was first attacked by Streak Wing outside of Onyx Ridge. He could feel the shackle against his leg heating up, glowing brighter as his Empatha bathed it in fire. If it wasn’t for the fact that his magic was supplying the energy, the metal would have badly scorched him by now.

Gritting his teeth, Hurricane sought for the last push to get the metal as hot as he needed. He found it in a memory he had long ago repressed, and began to tap into its energy, its rage, to fuel his own fires. He knew this memory well, oh too well.

It was the first time he had killed somepony.

Before him were five figures who all jolted their heads upwards at his sudden entrance. The one Hurricane immediately recognized was the mare lying on the ground, manila coat bruised and spattered with blood stains. There was no way for Hurricane to tell at this distance whether or not they were from Swift, but the mare’s labored breathing and huddled figure told him she was hurt.

If Swift’s condition froze Hurricane’s heart in worry, the next thing he saw ignited it in a blaze of anger. Crouched directly above the mare stood a familiar red pegasus, armor stripped away and cast on the ground. A fiery hoof was resting on Swift’s flank. Around him, Fire Star’s companions bore the signs of a scuffle that had taken place not too long ago.

It didn’t take long for Hurricane to put two and two together. Nostrils flaring, the black pegasus slammed his hooves onto the ground and advanced menacingly towards Fire Star. “You…” hissed Hurricane, his feathers flared angrily out on either side of him as he advanced.

The tongues of fire grew taller, brighter. Hurricane’s breathing became ragged, and his teeth clenched in rage

Fire Star took his hoof off of Swift’s flank and stepped back. “Well, if it isn’t Swift’s little pet. You have a habit of showing up at the most inconvenient times, don’t you? I would much rather if you leave me to my own pursuits from now on. We wouldn’t want anypony to get hurt, now would we?”

Hurricane’s piercing glare unnerved the red pegasus across from him. The magenta eyes bore the fury of somepony deeply wronged and incredibly angered. Fire Star’s friends scampered away fearfully as he approached. “Leave. Her. Alone.” Hurricane spat the words out, where they fell to the ground with a roar of thunderous malevolence. Fire Star took several more steps back, trying to take control of the situation.

“Or what? You’ll kill me? You wouldn’t want to do that, friend.” His eyes glanced nervously around the clearing, trying to look for anything to rally his support around. His friends retreated back even farther from the black stallion.

The metal cuff was white hot now. The very air shook and fled from the heat, and the smell of ozone took its place. It was a putrid stink, but Hurricane couldn’t smell it. His mind was absorbed in the past.

With the screech of metal being ripped asunder, the sword connected with Fire Star’s neck. The red pegasus flipped twice in the air, spiraling backwards to where he collapsed on the ground in a messy heap. The immediate area was deathly silent as Fire Star’s wings twitched several times on the ground.

Hurricane let the sword drop out of his mouth, where it clattered on the ground, painting the grass red. Fire Star’s friends gathered around the motionless pony, breathlessly muttering to each other and eyeing Hurricane warily.

Letting loose a final gasp, Hurricane forced his eyes open, breaking free of the memory. He panted, and sweat ran down his neck and beaded on his forehead. Holding out his leg, Hurricane could see the shackle, glowing as bright as the sun and illuminating the cave outside his cell. He couldn’t see any movement, but that didn’t mean somepony wasn’t nearby. He had to move fast.

Closing his eyes again, this time Hurricane focused on his sad memories. Leaving Cyclone behind. Losing his parents in Zephyrus. Holding Swift Spear’s hoof as she lay on the ground in Cloudsdale, her blood pouring from her chest, soaking her coat with crimson and sticking against Hurricane’s armor.

Hurricane shuddered and pressed closer against Swift Spear’s side. “Please, don’t go. Don’t leave me all alone. You’re my wife, the love of my life, the one mare who’s been through everything I have… the one pony to whom I can actually talk about what I saw… what we saw… to remember Silver Sword, to remember Streak Wing, to remember our parents, and our friends, and the way things used to be…”

He choked on tears and shook again. “Our children, our history…. Don’t leave that all to me, Swift… I don’t want to be alone…”

When Hurricane clenched his teeth again, it was to hold back the sob threatening to choke him.

Swift smiled and kissed Hurricane’s cheek. “Hurricane… you won’t be alone… you’ve got Twister… her family, your nieces… our children are both still alive…” She shook her head, an action that took about three seconds but only covered a few inches of weak movement. “You know… you’ll never be alone…. Even when I’m gone… I’ll be there. Just look to the skies… look to your side… feel my presence next to you late at night… you’ll know I’m still there… you’ll know I still love you.”

“Cyclone… I’ll make him pay for this…” Hurricane panted. With every word, his voice grew more rapid and forceful, until he was shouting more with rage than actual thought. “For killing his mother, for tearing Cirra apart, for betraying his sister, for everything! I’ll—!”

“Hurricane!” Swift cut in with surprising forcefulness. “Hurricane, please… Cyclone’s our only son… he’s my baby boy… I still love him… I’ll love him when I draw my last breath, I’ll love him even as I watch you from above. Don’t kill him… spare him his life… our family loses one life today… don’t let it lose another, please... spare our baby boy…” Coughing lightly, she looked into his eyes. “Promise me this… please…”

Spare our baby boy. Spare our baby boy. The words echoed in Hurricane’s head, and he began to shudder. He had spared Cyclone, but for what? To abandon him in a land that hated him? Is that what Swift would have wanted?

Hurricane felt a tear drop from his cheek and patter against the stone floor.

The black pegasus, looking shockingly old and tired, nodded and pressed his forehead against Swift’s. “I promise you, Swift. I’ll spare him. I can never forget this—never—but I’ll try… I’ll try my hardest to forgive him… because like you said…”

Hurricane stopped and bit his lip, trying to force back the tears and sobs that threatened to steal his speech any moment. “Because like you said, he’s my only son. And he’ll be my only son, I can promise you that. I love you, and I’ll always love you. Forever and ever, until the stars shine no more, until the sun shrivels and dies, never to rise again, I’ll remember you, and I’ll love you. Every day, every minute will be a horrible reminder that you’re not there. But I’ll carry on for you. Because I love you. I won’t give up because of you, Swift. I won’t give up, because I know you want me to go on.” Taking a deep breath, Hurricane kissed Swift’s forehead again. “And I won’t disappoint you. Even if I live for another forty years, I’ll make you proud. And then, one day, we’ll be together again. In the Great Skies, we’ll be whole. And I’ll never leave your side, ever again.”

Swift smiled and gently nuzzled Hurricane. “Mmm… I’d like that… very much.” With a sudden, soft gasp, Swift’s neck twitched and her head tilted back. Her eyes stared at the ceiling, and her sadness slowly began to leave her. “Hurricane, I… I see Silver…”

The steel shackle around Hurricane’s leg shattered into dozens of tiny pieces, each one tinkling not across the cavern floor, but across solid ice. The entire cell had been frozen over in a glossy curtain of ice, and the frost clung to the iron, chilling it. His sorrow had fueled his Empatha so much that it had spread wildly out of control, extending several feet into the chamber outside of the cell. Yet the commander didn’t move for the longest time. He was too distraught over what he had just remembered to even think about moving. The tears flowed freely through his fur, and his shoulders heaved, yet he hardly made a sound.

Swift Spear… you would have loved this land...

He shivered in broken, depressing silence for several minutes, five years of bottled emotion gushing over him.

When he finally looked up, he saw a pair of slitted yellow eyes staring at him from the other side of the frozen bars. It was the thestral mare from earlier, and she watched him with a cool neutrality a safe distance away from the cell.

Hurricane looked at her for a second before turning away. “You caught me. Go and tell your mistress. It’s not like trying to escape now will get me anywhere.”

The mare didn’t move. Her yellow eyes remained locked on Hurricane, showing neither anger nor alarm. “I’m sorry.”

Hurricane’s ears perked, and he shot her a sidelong glance. “Sorry? For what?”

She didn’t answer the question. Instead, she moved a step closer. “Was she beautiful?”

The black pegasus paused, weary that this might be some sort of trap. His shoulders sagged, however, and he again faced the frozen cell wall. “The most beautiful mare I’ve ever known. We’d been through so much together… twenty-one years seems like a long time when you’re young, but those were some of the shortest years of my life.” Sniffling away a last tear, Hurricane turned his back towards the thestral. “And now she’s gone.”

The mare said nothing. Hurricane closed his eyes and took a deep breath, fighting down another shudder, when he heard crackle of ice breaking and the squeal of metal against metal. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the unicorn thestral standing in the opened doorway of the cell. She took a few steps back, and pointed to her right with her horn. “The mistress will see you now.”

Hurricane blinked. Slowly, steadily, he rose to his hooves, struggling to shake the weariness off of them. He took a few steps towards the thestral. When she didn’t move, he took a few steps more. Then a few steps more. Soon enough, he had crossed the threshold to his prison. The mare was less than a foot away, but she simply stood still, watching him. Her expression was impossible to guess beneath her wide, yellow eyes and the fangs extending over her lower lips.

“I could kill you right now,” Hurricane said, more as an observation rather than a threat. He pointed with his wing to the cell. “You just saw what my Empatha could do. You saw what my lightning did to your brother.”

Third Sister didn’t even move. Her voice showed not the slightest sign of worry or concern. “Are you going to try to kill me?” she asked, as casually as if she was wondering whether it would rain today.

Hurricane looked away. It certainly wasn’t the response he’d been expecting. “No,” he stated flatly. “You haven’t given me any reason to kill you. Not yet.” Looking at the mare, and seeing her unchanged expression, Hurricane shook his head and took a step forward. “I suppose I should talk to your mistress, then.”

The thestral nodded and walked alongside Hurricane. Nothing more was said between the two as they navigated the long, narrow caverns. Hurricane could tell by the changing pressure in his ears that they were rising, but to where, he couldn’t tell.

The narrow cave they were in suddenly opened up into a wide chasm. A twisted arch of natural stone spanned from one end of the chasm to the other. Beneath the arch were enormous projections of solid black stone, pulsating with a deep lavender light and whispering to one another as they fed off of the ambient mana in the air. Hurricane immediately opened his wings and took flight, putting a few extra feet of distance between him and the gems, yet remaining close by Third Sister’s side.

“Are those void crystals?” Hurricane asked.

Third Sister hardly slowed her pace as she crossed over the arch. “The darkest and blackest. The chasm goes down to the very pits of Tartarus itself. They devour the evil magic that would otherwise escape His realm and pervert the magic of this world.” At Hurricane’s look of incredulity, she continued. “Void crystals devour not only the good magics of the world, but the evil ones to.”

When they made it to the other side, Hurricane paused and looked back down the chasm. Everything was black for as far as the eye could see, but he could tell the chasm was incredibly deep. “His realm… you mean Razgriz?”

The thestral turned and cocked her head. “I do not know a ‘Razgriz’.”

“God of the underworld and Lord of Demons,” Hurricane spoke, his voice filled with nervous reverence. “We Cirrans call him the Demon King. He tried to enslave the world and steal the souls of the pegasi, turning them into horrible, twisted creatures of black magic.” He looked over his shoulder at Third Sister, genuine concern in his eyes. “The fact that an open pit to his realm even exists is a threat to the world.”

Third Sister seemed relatively calm despite the end of the world scenario Hurricane had just described. “Oh. Mistress calls that one ‘Tirek’.” She turned away, continuing further along the path.

Hurricane, however, was deeply troubled. His wings flared out in alarm, and he widened his stance. “Your ‘mistress’ knows of Razgriz? She deals with him?!”

The thestral rolled her eyes. “No. Mistress and her sister do the opposite. They stay here and make sure that nothing comes out of that pit.” She continued walking down the cavern. “And they would very much like to see you.”

Hurricane kept his wings open for a few moments longer, but he ultimately closed them and trotted after Third Sister. He cast a few looks back over his shoulder at the pit all the while, almost certain that something foul and twisted would slither out after him.

The two ponies walked on in silence again for the next few minutes. Soon enough, however, they came to a large chamber well lit by torches and the outside sky. Stepping off to the side, Third Sister pointed with her horn. “You are expected.”

Hurricane looked at her and nodded. “Thank you.”

The mare flashed her fangs at him, and the corners of her lips pulled into a wry smile. “Of course. I do hope we meet again. You’re more interesting to talk to than half of my siblings.”

Nodding one more time, Hurricane wordlessly entered the chamber. Up ahead, he could hear the voices of two mares arguing. Or rather, one of the voices was trying to argue with the other one, but the other remained calm and refused to let her voice escalate.

“…killed one of my thestrals, sister! We have been much too absent from the ponies for far too long. What if they all are like him? What if he is the first of many?!”

Hurricane recognized the voice from earlier as he approached. It was Lūn’s voice, or at least the alicorn who looked like Lūn. And what she was saying made no sense to the commander. Absent from the ponies for too long? What did that mean?

The other voice responded in her calm tranquility. “You know how the ponies look up to us, Luna. You see it in their dreams. They revere us. This pegasus, I’m sure he accidentally found this place and responded to an attack by one of your ‘Night Guards’. He would have no other reason to be this far north.”

The stallion paused in his tracks. Did the other pony call her sister Luna? It wasn’t quite Lūn, but then again, neither was the earth pony and unicorn pronunciation of her name, Lunis. Could he actually be dealing with Lūn and Celeste?

What Lūn—Luna—said next left him without a doubt. “He still should not have been able to kill one of them, Celestia. The thestrals are more than just regular ponies. They wield my magic. That one pegasus was able to best one of my own in a single fight is deeply troubling!”

Hurricane finally rounded the wall he had been following towards the source of the voices. He found himself in a large, well lit chamber, with two large beds placed on opposite sides of the stone room. A few niceties brightened the chamber up, but the only real furnishings of value were the table and the two large chairs—one of which was occupied by an impressively tall and regal white alicorn.

The commander stopped dead in his tracks, even as the white alicorn stayed her rebuttal against the darker, bluer alicorn pacing at the other end of the room. The white alicorn—Celeste, or Celestia, he inferred—was stunningly gorgeous, with a flowing pink mane and tail fringed with touches of orange and yellow like the dawn. Like her sister, the hair moved on its own accord, like it was caught in some continually flowing ethereal breeze. Her eyes were a light pink, a perfect complement to her cream coat. Adorning her flank was the image of a radiant sun.

“Celeste…” Hurricane breathed. “Lūn…”

Celeste, the Goddess of Love and Lady of the Sun, gave him a soft smile. “Welcome, stranger. We were wondering when you were going to show up.”

Chapter 5: Sisters

“Is that so?”

“Indeed it is, sister,” Celestia said from her place at the table. She, Twilight, and Princess Luna were seated in the castle’s banquet hall, enjoying a semi-private dinner. After finishing the previous chapter in Cyclone’s and Typhoon’s journal, Twilight and Princess Celestia had gone there to eat, sending a messenger along the way inviting Luna to join them. The darker alicorn had arrived shortly thereafter, looking rather tired. Twilight fathomed a guess that she either slept during the day, or didn’t sleep, period. Her nightly vigil certainly didn’t afford her the chance to sleep then.

“And this… journal of theirs,” the younger princess was saying, pointing a spoon towards Celestia, “was but recently recovered by Twilight and Rainbow Dash? Sister, We had no idea that thou were sending two of Equestria’s Bearers into hostile terrain on an expedition.”

Celestia opened her mouth to respond, but Twilight was quicker. “Princess Celestia didn’t send me. I… kinda went on her own.” She blushed as the princesses’ attentions turned toward her.

“Twilight had sought my permission to go to Saraneighvo nearly two months ago as part of her research on Commander Hurricane, after she found one of his old journals,” Celestia said. Twilight couldn’t help but notice that the hair on the back of Luna’s neck bristled at the mention of the Cirran’s name. “She, in turn, brought Rainbow Dash along with her. From what she told me earlier today, Rainbow was an integral part in the expedition’s success.”

The hair on Luna’s neck slowly flattened, and she turned to Twilight, attempting to look friendly but somehow only looking sterner beneath her keen interest. “The Bearer of Loyalty interested in a scholarly expedition?” It was only when the corners of the princess’ lips upturned in a slight smile that Twilight caught the jab at her friend. “We would never have imagined. Thou must be rubbing off on her more than thou thinks, Twilight Sparkle.”

Celestia coughed into her hoof. “Language, Luna.” The darker alicorn looked to her sister with a touch of confusion before recognition flashed in her eyes. She turned away, grumbling that ponies had a right to use their tongue however they pleased, regardless of what others thought.

Twilight cocked her head. “Erm… what? Princess Luna didn’t say anything… well, bad.”

“Sister wants Us—I,” she corrected, glaring at Celestia, “to learn the proper tongue for the times. She simply does not appreciate the beauty and poetry of the older ways of speaking, when Equestria was in its golden age.”

Celestia chuckled and levitated her tea to her lips, taking a quick sip. “Ah, but now we are living in Equestria’s second golden age, dear Sister. You have returned, Discord is imprisoned, and King Sombra has been defeated, allowing us to welcome the Crystal Empire into the Principality of Equestria with open forelegs. The world promises to be a new place of peace and prosperity in light of these events.”

Luna scoffed. “The world hath already been conquered, unlike two thousand years ago. The expeditions to settling the Bitalian archipelago… those were the heydays of the Principality.” She happily sighed, looking off someplace into the distance and revisiting old memories.

“Luna loved to explore the west,” Celestia explained to Twilight. “She spent half her time on the other side of the country, captaining a ship and simply sailing the unexplored waters.” At Twilight’s look of incredulity, Celestia smiled. “I had tried to warn her that it would be dangerous, but it is hard to dissuade a dear sister from following her childhood dreams. They occupied the better part of two centuries before she was finally satisfied.”

“And what a marvelous two centuries they were!” Luna exclaimed, returning to the present. “Our only regret is that We did not go sooner. Then again, having the companionship of fellow ponies during the beautiful nights on the calm seas made it all worth it.” She sighed again. “A different breed of equines, they were. They were some of the few who did appreciate my night.”

Twilight picked at her meal, a hearty plate of pasta e fagioli that the Bitalian chef had made for them, and tried forcing the images involving ‘companionship’ and Princess Luna that weren’t appropriate out of her head.

“But I believe we hath allowed ourselves too much digression,” Luna stated, bringing the conversation back on track. “We were discussing thine expedition into Saraneighvo, Twilight. Tell… me, is that where you found this journal?”

Twilight shook her head. “Not yet. At Saraneighvo, Rainbow and I found a Cirran vault containing another of Commander Hurricane’s journals.” She blinked as she noticed Luna quickly suppress a scowl. “Long story short, it gave his account on what happened during the actual Hearth’s Warming Eve. It’s… surprisingly revealing. There’s considerably more detail and truth to it than Clover the Clever’s, for comparison.”

Luna angled her head, and Twilight couldn’t help but notice the broad arc her long horn swept through as she did. “We always found Clover to be a respectable and highly intelligent mare,” the blue alicorn stated.

“I’m not disagreeing with that, and I look up to her greatly myself,” Twilight said, defending herself. “But she tended to romanticize things quite a bit. In addition to being Equestria’s second archmage and pupil of Star Swirl the Bearded himself, she was also an avid writer of fiction and foals’ stories. Her telling of Hearth’s Warming, the official version all of Equestria knows, suffers heavily from influences of both.”

Luna nodded, her spoon gliding through the soup in front of her. “Hmm. But this other journal that thou hast recovered. ‘Twas written by the children of Hurricane?”

This time, Celestia answered. “I was as surprised as you are, sister. Eight thousand years is a long time for something like that to have survived, untouched, in a castle in Stalliongrad. Still, the journal came with their feathers, which I have every reason to believe are legitimate. From skimming through the pages, it seems to go through Hurricane’s death.”

“Humph. We hope their portrayal of us has been… credible.”

Twilight caught the irritation in Luna’s voice again, and this time she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Princess Luna, what happened between you and Hurricane’s family?”

The darker alicorn flinched, and her eyes darted down to her food. “How far art thou in the journal?”

“We just finished the chapter where Hurricane found you and Princess Celestia,” Twilight responded. “He killed one of your Night Guards, and he talked with somepony by the name of Third Sister for a while afterwards.”

Luna looked off into the distance, nodding. “I remember. He was the first living stallion that Sister and I had interacted with in a very long time.” Her focus narrowed on Twilight, causing the mare to cringe a little, and her speech lapsed back into her archaic tongue. “If thou art reading through this journal of theirs, then We shall not fill thine head with any sort of premonition or bias by telling you Our side of the story. We simply beseech you to talk to us once thou hast read more.”

Twilight glanced at the book laying on the table by her foreleg. “Princess Celestia and I were going to read more after dinner. Would you like to join us?”

The Princess of the Night thought for a few moments before giving her a curt nod. “I do not believe that I have any obligations in the Night Court—not that We usually do, mind you,” Luna stated, bouncing back and forth between modern and archaic Equiish. “I can afford to miss Vigil for one night out of many served. I shall ask Eldest Sister to stand in Our place.”

Celestia’s horn lit up, and she carefully handed her empty plates over to one of the castle’s wait staff for cleaning. “Twilight and I just got to the part where we spoke to Hurricane for the first time,” Celestia told her sister. “We were going to continue reading it in my chamber after dinner.”

“Very well,” Luna said. “I shall meet you there, after I inform Eldest Sister of my change in plans.” Standing up, the younger alicorn stood to her regal height and stepped back, letting the wait staff clear her place at the table. Then, angling out a wing, she gave a shorthand approximation of a wave before disappearing into the winding halls of the castle.

A few minutes passed, in which Twilight finished the last of her pasta. Looking at the book again, she grasped it in her magic and opened to the bookmark, reading over the last section. “Do you know what happened between Luna and Commander Hurricane?”

Celestia’s face darkened for the briefest of moments, but she soon restored her impenetrable poker face. “Yes, I do. Luna and Hurricane did not start off on the right hoof, as it were, and I don’t think they really bothered to try again afterwards. If you recall from the journal, Hurricane first met Luna after killing one of her Night Guard. Considering the sort of personal attachments my sister likes to form with those on her Guard, it’s hardly surprising that her and Hurricane’s family hardly got along in their later years.”

It was something, but Twilight was beginning to get frustrated, knowing that both sisters were holding back a crucial part of the story from her. “But that hardly explains what happened between them. Surely, Hurricane accidentally killing one of her Night Guards wasn’t enough for her to really hate him… right?”

The immortal alicorn looked away. “No, not at first. There were other, more personal reasons that Luna and Hurricane soon came at each other’s throats. I’m sure I had something to do with it as well.” She looked away, ashamed.

Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but Celestia stood up and moved towards the nearby hallway before she could. “Luna should be waiting for us by now,” the Princess said over her shoulder. “We should find her and continue reading the journal then.”

Wordlessly, Twilight slid out of her seat, thanking the pony who slid up behind her to clean her place at the table. Her lavender Arcana wrapped around the journal as she left, pulling the book close to her side. Celestia waited for her at the doorway and ushered her forward with a wing before following.

Past the great hall, the hallways and stone corridors split off into numerous branches and small passageways that snaked their way throughout the numerous levels of the castle, leading to all sorts of halls and hidden rooms. The castle itself was more like a civilized version of its hedge maze outside, and a pony could easily get lost if they didn’t have guards to escort them from one place to another. Luckily, Twilight had spent most of her foalhood in the castle, and she knew the majority of the passageways by heart. As such, it was with little difficulty that she wound her way through the branching and diverging hallways, ultimately coming to a large spiral staircase that was easily ten tail-lengths from wall to wall.

Trotting up the stairs, Twilight and Celestia came to the large, gilded door to the Princess’ chambers. Unsurprisingly, the doors were already open, and inside, Twilight could see Luna resting on a large pillow in front of the fireplace. The darker alicorn nodded to them as they entered.

“I will admit, it has been quite some time that we have simply sat down and reminisced about the past, sister,” Luna said as Celestia levitated over two cushions from the side of the room, a large harlequin-colored one for herself and a smaller lavender one for her student. “It is about time that we converse in matters other than politics, for once. Rest and relaxation seem to be shortcoming in Canterlot as of late.”

Celestia smiled, settling down on her cushion and pushing a pile of scrolls into the corner of the room. “I know what you mean,” she said, gently raising an eyebrow. “But somepony has to do it.”

Luna groaned and buried her head in her forelegs. “And now thou realize why We explored the world two millennia ago. Politicians don’t follow you onto the sea; ponies of honest character do.”

Twilight leaned forward a bit, wanting to hear the Moon Princess’ stories, but the golden wash of Celestia’s magic around the journal on the floor reminded her that she was already reading a story, one that had lasting impacts on the history of Equestria as it was written. Sighing, she leaned back, settling into her cushion as Celestia opened the journal.

The white alicorn slid her cushion back a few inches, holding the book out in front of her. Twilight and Luna slid their cushions closer together, hunkering down like a couple of fillies waiting for story time. The thought amused her.

“So,” Celestia said, looking every bit like a school teacher sitting before her students, “Luna, feel free to contribute to anything you feel is recounted… improperly, or if there is something else you would like to clarify.”

“Rest assured that it will be the case,” Luna replied, squirming slightly as she settled into her cushion. Twilight thought the motion looked absolutely ridiculous on the larger mare, and her lips quivered as she fought to keep a straight face.

Celestia nodded and opened the book. Clearing her throat, she immediately picked up where she left off, mentally translating the Cirran characters of Typhoon’s script and reading them aloud. “My father told me all about his talks with Celestia and Luna, including everything they discussed, and everything they told him; and…

“My Ladies, please forgive an old soldier for not paying you proper respects,” Hurricane said, his voice soft and reverent. His wings were held loosely at his sides with the primaries draped across the floor and the crests angled downwards. The aging stallion bowed his head and averted his gaze, staring at the floor and away from the magnificent alicorns at the other end of the room. “Nopony ever expects to meet their goddesses when they still draw breath. Had I known, I… I would have…”

The two sisters exchanged a look. Luna’s lip twitched as she struggled to maintain her stern façade and suppress her amusement. Celestia bit her lip and nickered uncomfortably, seemingly not at ease with the pegasus’ reverence. Clearing her throat, she squarely faced the bowing stallion and took a small step forward. “Rise, my little pony. Let us see your face.”

Hurricane’s shoulders tensed, yet he slowly complied with his goddess’ command. Very, very cautiously, he lifted his head from the ground and barely flicked his eyes across the alicorns’ majestic figures. Almost as soon as he made eye contact with Celestia, however, his eyes darted away, feeling weak, ashamed, and rude, as if his mere sight had molested Her sacred figure.

Celestia smiled comfortingly. “It is okay. We mean you no harm.”

Luna rolled her eyes and leaned over to nudge Celestia in the side. “He thinks we’re gods or the like, in case you had not noticed, sister.” She glanced at the stallion again, and she couldn’t help but let the corner of her mouth tilt up. “Magnus would like him.”

Hurricane froze. His wings twitched ominously, and he slowly turned to glare at Luna through the corner of his eye. “My Lady… did you not see what happened to Cirra? Magnus the Usurper destroyed the Empire. His hordes slaughtered millions and razed thousands of years of pegasus civilization. They tore Stratopolis and Nimbus to the ground. They desecrated your temple in Nyx! And yet you… you…” His speech stumbled as he searched for the correct words. “You even speak his name as if you two were friends!”

The taller, white alicorn turned and leveled a glare at her sister. “Luna! Do not joke about such things! You remember how many souls we sent to the Summer Lands, how many pegasi died because of Magnus!” Looking at Hurricane, she squinted, scrutinizing his visage, before reaffixing her attention on Luna. “He’s old enough to have served then. We both know that there was hardly a stallion his age that didn’t.”

Luna opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it and looked aside. Celestia strode closer to Hurricane and placed a downy wing on his back. The pegasus stiffened at the contact, but when Celestia gently traced his jaw with her other wing, he couldn’t help but look directly at her.

“Forgive my sister, legionary,” Celestia said. “She has always been the more… brazen of the two of us.”

Hurricane breathed once, bottling up all his inner anger and rage and resuming a calm and reverent expression. “I cannot be mad at a Lady of Cirra. It is not my place, and it is not my right.”

Celestia pursed her lips, thinking for a moment. “Who are you, soldier? I believe in all the excitement you’ve been through today, we’ve never had a chance to share our names.”

The black pegasus shuffled a half-step back, confusion on his face. “But you are my goddesses, and the goddesses of every Cirran! I say this not out of pride, but surely you know who I am, as much as I know who you are.”

The two alicorns shared another glance, and this time Luna stepped forward, obviously growing frustrated. “We pay attention to more ponies than just the pegasi, soldier. You may think of us as your gods, but that doesn’t mean that we know who you are.”

“Perhaps some clarification is in order,” Celestia said, speaking before the pegasus could respond. “I take it from earlier that you already know who we are, or as much about us as your culture has taught you.” Holding out a wing, she pointed to her sister. “This is my little sister, Luna.”

The darker alicorn rolled her eyes. “When you’re as old as we are, a difference of a few years in age means absolutely nothing.” Then she pointed her hoof at the white alicorn. “And this is Celestia, my older sister. Call her ‘Celly’ all you want; it irritates her to no end.”

Celestia looked back to Hurricane. “As you can see, close enough to the names I believe you addressed us as when you first saw us… Celeste and Lūn?” At Hurricane’s nod, she continued. “From dealing with the souls of ponies, not just the pegasi, but the earth ponies and unicorns as well, we know that we’re seen as gods for many reasons. We have lived for tens of thousands of years. I, however, do not consider myself to be one. My sister feels much the same way…”

Luna gave a half-hearted nod that left much to be desired in its honesty.

“…and we both know that we have our own limitations. But before we get to that, what is your name?” She smiled gently. “I’d like to avoid having to refer to you indirectly if we can have a civilized conversation.”

Nodding, Hurricane sat straighter. “I am Hurricane, my Ladies, of the line of Stormblade. I am Commander Maximus of Equestria, the Legion, and the pegasus race. I am also the last emperor of the Cirran Empire—the very empire which Magnus the Usurper destroyed.” He cast a spiteful look poorly veiled as neutrality towards Luna. The alicorn didn’t seem to care.

Celestia’s eyes widened just the slightest, and she leaned back from Hurricane not out of shock, but out of respect. “You are Commander Hurricane?”

“It was obvious,” Luna commented from the corner. “You can tell just by looking at him.”

Hurricane wasn’t sure if the younger alicorn was lying, or if she actually was observant enough to piece his identity together. Regardless, he nodded to Celestia. “You’ve heard of me?” He paused, thinking for a brief moment. “That explains how you know of everything the Usurper did to us during the Red Cloud War.”

“Yes, we do,” Celestia answered, sparing the time to shoot Luna another reprimanding look. The mare just shrugged and turned to the side, inspecting a peculiar inch of the cave wall.

“I… don’t understand,” Hurricane said, glancing towards his hooves. “You do not consider yourselves gods, but you know all this? And you… judge souls?” Anger flashed over his face, as the world he’d believed in since his youth crumbled around him at this new ‘truth’. “That isn’t your job,” Hurricane protested, looking Celestia in the eyes. “My Lady… Celeste, where is Garuda?”

Celestia leaned ever so slightly forward. “We’ve heard the same question from nearly every pegasus that we’ve judged,” she began. “In all honesty, we don’t understand where all the extra gods that you Cirrans have filled your pantheon with come from. The earth ponies and unicorns only have us, and the crystal ponies are monotheistic. However, the idea that this god, Garuda, judges the deceased when they pass is wrong. My sister and I are the ones responsible; I take care of the ponies who die in the day, and she takes care of the ones that die at night.”

“And there are no ‘Great Skies’,” Luna interjected. Hurricane turned his head to look at her, watching her stand tall at the other end of the room. She seemed to enjoy picking apart his faith and beliefs, judging by the smirk tugging at her cheeks. “At least, not by the name that the pegasi believe. The souls of not just ponies, but the donkeys and zebras, are rewarded with eternal peace and rest in the Summer Lands, if they have led righteous and moral lives. Otherwise, they are sent to Tartarus, or what you Cirrans simply call ‘Hell’.”

Commander Hurricane furrowed his brow. “I don’t know what a ‘donkey’ is, but you judge the tribals, too?”

“Tribals?” Celestia asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hurricane nodded. “At the very southern tip of Dioda, scattered across a few small island chains, were the striped tribals. They called themselves zebras. They didn’t have anything Cirra wanted, and they knew not to come to the mainland.” He paused. “I don’t know what’s happened to them since Magnus tore Cirra to the ground. If pegasi were below the Usurper, then I can’t imagine how much farther down the tribals are.”

Then, Hurricane narrowed his eyes at Celestia. “But the tribals are not ponies. You aren’t their gods. Why do you judge their souls?” He looked aside, trying to pin down a thought, before angling his head towards the white alicorn again. “Why do you not call yourselves gods when you can judge souls? When you yourselves have said that you are immortal?”

“It simply depends on what your definition of a god is,” Luna said. The younger alicorn moved to the table and took a seat, steepling her hooves together like a tutor lecturing a student from her desk. “Are we immortal? Yes. We’ve lived for a long time. Are we powerful?” She looked at the ceiling, but it was fairly obvious she was looking through the several hundred tons of stone to the sky outside. “My sister moves the sun, and I move the moon and the night sky. Yes, one could say that we are powerful. Are we wise?” Here she leaned forward, fixing Hurricane in a surprisingly indecipherable stare. “We have seen more things than every pony alive put together. We know many things that historians, clerics, and scholars haven’t the faintest ideas of. Yet, for all that, we are hardly the most intelligent ponies in existence. The great unicorn wizards or the earth pony sages from centuries past knew things even we could hardly imagine. Think on that for a moment.” Then she blinked and leaned back in her seat, filling the room with silence.

After a few seconds, Celestia spoke up. “As Luna has been hinting at, trying to fit us to the term ‘god’ is like trying to fit a round peg through a square hole, so to speak. We simply aren’t perfect fits.” Settling back, her eyes focused on some distant past, and a slight haze of nostalgia passed over them. “We did not create the world; we had no part in the forces at play that shaped it out of whatever existed before. We were simply born into it. Civilization and society existed long before we did, and in our youth, we were tended to like all fillies, chased by suitors and lorded over by our parents. Our lives were not so much different from those of average ponies.” Celestia briefly grinned as she remembered some pleasant experience from her distant past. “Luna and I weren’t alicorns then; we weren’t even sisters. I was a unicorn born to two well-to-do nobles; she was a pegasus whose parents were, admittedly, con artists and thieves.”

Luna frowned. “They taught me how to fight, and how to use the shadows to my advantage. Corrupt as they might have been, I still loved them.”

Hurricane’s eyes travelled up and down Celestia’s figure. Shifting where he sat, he asked simply, “What changed you?”

“There was an evil spirit who sowed chaos and disorder into the land,” Luna said. “By his hand, nations toppled and empires fell. Lives were lost to the madness. My sister and I, along with four others, managed to strip him of his power over the world. When we did, we realized that his power over nature had to go somewhere. We couldn’t simply let the land run wild, so we took it upon ourselves to take over in his stead.” She spread her wings. “It was then that I gained my horn and Celestia her wings. After everything we’d been through, in that moment, we felt like sisters. It is a bond that has served us well for countless millennia.”

“And your powers?” Hurricane asked.

“I took dominion over the night, and Celestia, the day,” Luna continued. “The other elements of nature were taken by our friends. An elk by the name of Valdria was given arguably the most powerful element, the gift of life. Her will was, and still is, an incorruptible one, strange as her way of thinking would be. It was only fitting that she be given charge of such an important power.”

“I’ve never met an ‘elk’ before,” Hurricane stated. “Where do they live?”

Celestia pointed in a vague direction with her wing. “Several thousand miles to the southwest of here, in an immensely thick forest. Elk are rather isolationist. They won’t leave their homeland unless forced to; I doubt that you’ll ever meet one in your lifetime unless you purposefully seek them out.”

Luna nodded. “Meanwhile, entropy and decay were given to an old friend of ours. She was our leader, and we felt she was the most trustworthy to hold such a... sensitive power. But she, along with the rest of her kind, are...” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes fell to studying the stone floor. When she raised her head, it was to carry two small words. “...no more.” She stopped and shook her head. “After that, the spark of that element was passed on to another race, the buffalo, but from there it was taken by the boars, who live in the badlands to the south. Currently, it rests with one of their warchiefs, but I can never keep their names straight. A moment” Luna paused and held out her wing, actually counting the primary feathers and mumbling names. About a dozen names that Hurricane could hardly understand later, she finally folded her wing back against her side. “That’s right, a boarish warchief by the name of Güyük currently holds it. For how long, though, not even I can tell.”

“I’d give him two thousand more years,” Celestia commented. “That seems to be the rate at which entropy is going through bearers.”

Hurricane made a quick mental count. “And the two others?”

“Yes, well, our dragon friend claimed earth,” Luna continued. “He goes by Krenn. It only makes sense that he would want it; all dragons are immune to fire and lava, and the ability to manipulate volcanoes and lava to create a blistering haven for his race would be too much for Krenn to pass up.”

Hurricane angled his head to the side. “Volcanoes aren’t natural?” Immediately his mind conjured pictures of Feathertop, the skies filled with fire and raining molten rock. Rivers choked with thick, black soot. A scorched limb sticking through the scalding ash, its flesh seared off of the bone. But that would mean... No, it couldn’t be. “Are you sure they can’t go off on their own?”

Luna laughed, a clear and proud sound. “Of course they aren’t! The world wouldn’t survive if they weren’t regulated by someone. They would simply detonate at random, and soon the earth would be covered in fire and ash. No, volcanoes are controlled by Krenn, and they only go off by his command.”

The revelation put Hurricane back in shock. Feathertop hadn’t been coincidence; no, it was a trap, a trap which killed thousands and thousands and thousands of pegasus lives. Cirran lives. Feathertop had cost Cirra the war; even with the fall of Nimbus, the pegasi were in a prime position to strike back and reclaim lost ground. But when three legions perished at Feathertop, leaving the Empire with nothing but barely-trained recruits to defend it, it was the end. And somehow, Magnus had coerced this dragon, Krenn, into obliterating Cirra that day.

Or, perhaps, something worse. Something far worse, yet something Hurricane knew in his gut was true. Raising his head, he looked Luna square in the eyes. “Magnus controls the winds.” It wasn’t a question, a statement. He had proclaimed himself a god of the winds when they had briefly met in Nimbus. “He’s... he’s one of you, isn’t he?”

The midnight alicorn blinked, then nodded. “Yes. Yes, Magnus is the last of our original circle, as it were.” She smiled faintly and her eyes twinkled with nostalgia. “Magnus, Krenn, and I were all close friends in our youth. It’s a shame that we’ve drifted—”

The commander’s face paled. “He was a close friend?” He sputtered in disbelief, his eyes searching the ground as his mind sorted through his thoughts. “You and this monster, this monster that tried to exterminate my race, are friends?!” His wings snapped open in rage, and the tips began releasing smoke into the small chamber. “You claim that you judge souls. How could you not have known what the Usurper was trying to do? And, more importantly, why didn’t you help?”

Luna frowned, searching for an answer. When it came, it wasn’t from her, but from her older sister. “I judged their souls,” Celestia said, flatly, and with a pained expression on her face. “But so many were lost all at once... I couldn’t judge them one by one. We knew of this ‘Red Cloud War’, and we knew that you were fighting the griffons tooth and nail. But it was, for the most part, so much like the wars Cirra had fought before that we thought nothing of it at first, and we never had the chance to ask the deceased if anything different was going on.” She looked away, and Hurricane felt like she was struggling to hold back tears. “So many of you pegasi were dying in this war of yours that my sister and I simply didn’t have the time to speak to them individually.”

“Yes,” Luna said, taking the burden of explaining from Celestia, “When the Cirran dead started coming in by the dozens, hundreds, thousands, every night and every day, we had to judge them all quickly and all at once. To let a soul linger for too long before it can be judged condemns it to a restless existence. It becomes a ghost, condemned to wander between worlds and craving mana as its boredom and confusion drive it mad. Once it accrues enough, however, it becomes a spirit powerful enough to return and terrorize the living world, twisting it to its warped and unnatural desires.” The blue alicorn sighed and touched a hoof to her lips. Withdrawing it, she added, “Every single Cirran that died for his or her country was sent to the Summer Lands, commander. There was simply nothing else we could do. I hope you can take solace in that.”

The only noise in the room for the next minute was the melancholy dripping of water off of some stalactite deeper within the mountain. When Hurricane finally spoke, it was with a reserved sadness. “Thank you, my Ladies. Thank you. It... means a lot.” After a few seconds, he smiled softly to himself. Looking up through the ceiling to where the skies lay above, he nodded. “You deserved it, Silver.”

Luna and Celestia glanced knowingly at each other, but it was Hurricane that addressed them next. “But about Magnus...” he shifted, daring to stand up in the presence of the two alicorns. “If he was an immortal like he claimed, why didn’t he wipe aside Cirra in the beginning? Why let the pegasi form an empire that lasted for four hundred years? Why let us win for so long, slowly choking the life out of his race through war and conquest?”

“It has been several thousand years since we last spoke directly with him,” Celestia said, stepping forward to stand beside her sister. “We parted on... less than favorable terms.” She waved a wing, as if dismissing the story before Hurricane could ask about it. “But we know that he enjoyed war and conquest. He treated it like a sport, a game. Games of strategy and cunning were his favorite, and when we were young, Luna was the only one of us who could beat him in a game of chess. Even still, her victories came only some of the time, and she suffered defeat more often than not.” Hurricane noticed Luna’s lips purse as she fought down some bitter sentiments of games long lost, before Celestia continued. “As Magnus grew, so too did the scale of his games. I imagine he was simply toying with your people for four centuries, perhaps longer, before he finally decided he was bored of you.”

Hurricane winced in pain, placing a hoof over his heart. “My people... my empire... Silver Sword, Shear Point, my parents? We all died because the Usurper was playing a game?!” He began to pant, and tongues of flame rippled along his wingtips. Tears traced their way down his already matted cheeks, decorating the hairs with frost. “Millions died because an immortal griffon was bored?!”

Celestia backed away, startled by the pegasus’ sudden discharge of Empatha. Luna watched cautiously from the table, not moving, but not blinking either, keeping her keen eyes fixed on the pegasus. “And this Krenn...” Hurricane continued, “he controls volcanoes? And he and Magnus were close?” He looked to Luna, and the alicorn tersely nodded. Hurricane’s conflicting emotions caused his Empatha to spark uncontrollably, scattering flames and ice in the area around him. “I, and the entire Cirran Empire, thought that the gods had spurned us when Feathertop erupted and killed three whole legions’ worth of legionaries. We outnumbered Magnus three to one in that engagement, and we suffered casualties at a similar rate. Feathertop broke the Empire. And now?” He gritted his teeth, seething. “Now I’m convinced that the ‘gods’ were conspiring against us that fateful day. Hell, I know they were now; you’ve basically told me as much. ”

Everypony was quiet as the weary pegasus seethed in sorrowful anger. Eventually, it was the younger alicorn that broke the silence. “The weak perish; the strong prosper. Yet here you are. Your race didn’t die out.” Seeing Hurricane look up at her, Luna shook her head. “I know how Magnus would act when he decided it was time to reset the board. The fact that you are even here, alive, twenty-five years after he tried, says a lot about your race.” She stood up and slowly began to pace around the room. “The fact that he let you flee, that there is even a single pegasus alive in this world, tells me that he respects you. That in his eyes, you are worth fighting again.” She looked firmly at the commander, meeting his gaze and nodding her head. “Knowing not to abuse that respect is going to keep your race alive in the countless generations to come.”

It took Hurricane several minutes to finally calm down, but when he did, his wings hung loose by his sides and he meekly shook his head. Biting down on her lip, Celestia slowly moved forward and draped a comforting wing on the pegasus’ back. “I know this has been tough,” she said, looking concerned. “I can only imagine how you’re feeling, to hear everything you were taught as truth your entire life to be so wantonly torn down around you.” She massaged his back with her wing, although the pegasus didn’t say anything. “I think it’s for the best if we stop now and talk about something else.”

“I want to know one thing,” Hurricane asked, his voice low and sounding defeated. When he looked at Celestia, she couldn’t help but wince at the hurt in his eyes. “My Lady... are the gods real? Is there truly someone, something out there that I can turn to in my hour of need? That Equestria can look towards in these dark days? And when I say gods...” His voice trailed off and he shook his head, casting a quick glance at Luna. “When I say gods, I mean actual gods. Beings that fit the description in ways that you don’t. Something... more that lives out there, watching us. Beings like Garuda or Mobius, beings that shape the world and guide us. Are they real?”

Celestia pursed her lips, silent while she thought how to best answer the commander’s question. Unfortunately, her hesitation didn’t go unnoticed by Hurricane, and the stallion craned his neck to look at her expectantly. “I’m... not sure that I can answer that,” Celestia began, slowly parsing her way through the words. “If there are... they’ve never made themselves apparent to—”

“They exist,” Luna cut in abruptly. Both Hurricane and Celestia turned to face her. She stood with a quiet confidence by the end of the table, and she nodded slowly. “Tia...” she began, searching for the words. “I’ve been to the Between before.”

Celestia’s eyes widened imperceptibly, but Hurricane noticed the stiffening in her posture. “Luna,” Celestia said, her voice held low, “You know that we shouldn’t go there. It’s far too dangerous, even for us.”

Luna twisted her hoof on the ground like a filly caught stealing candy. “Yes... well, we hardly know what happens there after we send the souls of the deceased away. I thought I should... investigate and see how they were doing.”

The white alicorn looked like she wanted to say something, but Hurricane cut her off. “And the Between is like the Great Skies... err, Summer Lands?”

“It is the space between the afterlives of the various races,” Luna answered, looking thankful that Hurricane had spared her from Celestia’s questioning. “The Summer Lands exist in one corner, Valhalla, the griffon afterlife, exists in another, and so on and so forth. Even Tartarus has a place in the Between, although it is strictly defined... and accompanied by a physical rift in the earth.” She gestured to the side with her horn, obviously referencing the chasm filled with void crystals that Third Sister had taken Hurricane across on his way to the chamber.

Then she looked at her sister. “But when I was there, Tia... I felt something. Walking between afterlives, something passed by me, though I could not see it. But it was there all the same. And it was immensely powerful, and incredibly old.” She placed a hoof to her temple. “Its mind brushed mine for the faintest of moments, but I saw enough to know that it existed somewhere far above us. Perhaps the reason why I couldn’t see it was because I couldn’t comprehend it.”

Celestia was quiet for several moments. “Perhaps it was just a powerful spirit lost in the Between. There are several.” One of her wings fidgeted with concern. “Spirits like Discord, perhaps. All these years later, I still find it hard to believe he was one of a kind.”

Luna looked like she wanted to argue, but she simply shrugged her wings. “Spirit or no, it was there. Yet I find it hard to believe more spirits like him could still be out there but haven’t made themselves known.” She paused. “And I have my own beliefs. Regardless, it was something I’ve never encountered before, and without knowing its intentions, I hesitate to dig further in search of the truth.” She looked off to the distance and shrugged. “Perhaps one day I may return and try to understand, but until then, I have no reason to do so.”

Hurricane released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He felt... easy. Calmer. Like a great weight had been taken from his chest. He looked at the younger alicorn and gave her the smallest hint of a smile. “Thank you, Luna.”

“‘Twas nothing,” Luna curtly stated. Then, stepping forward, she moved within a foreleg’s reach of the Cirran. “But, now that we’ve carried on for long enough on the topic of gods and spirits, perhaps we return to the real reason why you are here.”

Celestia stepped back, folding her wing back against her side. “Yes, I’m rather interested in that as well. It’s been thousands of years since we’ve last spoken with anypony.”

Hurricane raised an eyebrow. “But what about ponies like Third Sister?”

“They are thestrals,” Luna answered with a literal wave of her wing. “They are not ponies.” The tone in her voice made it clear that she did not want to elaborate on the distinction.

“Right,” Hurricane said. Then, straightening his back and flexing his uncomfortably naked wings, he sat up straight. “A few days ago, an artifact of incredible importance was stolen from Everfree. Star Swirl the Bearded kept special care of it inside a safe that nopony should ever have been able to break through, yet a unicorn managed to overpower all of the castle’s magical defenses and gain access to it.” He reached for the saddlebags attached to his armor, only for him to remember that he wasn’t wearing it. “I had a case with my armor, the case designed to hold the artifact. It was a small crystal ball known as Electrum’s Orb.”

Celestia nodded, thinking. “And that brought you out here? How?”

“A unicorn who had tried to stop him gave me his description and the general path of his travel.” He smiled a bit. “Frankly, he wasn’t that difficult to track once I got a map of the surrounding area. There was really only one place that he could go to, and that was here.”

Both Celestia and Luna glanced at each other, exchanging worried looks. Celestia, however, quickly refocused herself on Hurricane, although she watched Luna with one eye. “And this unicorn... he looked like a thestral, did he not.” It wasn’t really a question. She knew the obvious answer, and together her and Hurricane both looked towards Luna.

The darker mare appeared genuinely surprised, however. “Seventh Brother? I was unaware that he had left the mountain. I will need to have a word with him.”

“Bring him up,” Celestia not-so-gently encouraged. “Perhaps we should all have a word with him.”

Luna glanced at her sister, her expression uncomfortable, before nodding. Her horn lit up in a shimmering blue aura, then extinguished itself a second later. “It is done. He shall be joining us shortly.”

Hurricane’s hoof tapped little clicks on the stone floor as the three of them waited in silence. Eventually, the pegasus turned to Celestia. “My Lady… Celestia,” he began. The white alicorn turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “How long have you and Luna been here, cut off from the rest of ponykind? Or a better question, why?”

Celestia angled her head, confused. “I thought we had already explained our purpose for remaining here.”

The commander shook his head. “I don’t mean why you’ve stayed here. I mean, why have you never come to us before? When the Compact system was failing and we were starving, dying, why didn’t you come then?” His gaze hardened. “You told me that you speak with the souls of the dead. If that’s true, then you heard about what was happening way out there.”

“Yes, we knew,” Luna said, taking a seat by the commander. “But we do not intervene with ponies. Not anymore. There was a time when we were somewhat present in the affairs of the tribes. It is how we made our way into each of your pantheons, I imagine.” She looked away, and Hurricane saw her wings twitch at a painful memory. “But that time passed, and we withdrew from ponykind after an attempt to unite the races into what you’ve accomplished now. With the pegasi flying east, the crystal ponies fleeing west, and the unicorns attempting to dominate the earth ponies…” she shrugged, and a pained expression flashed across her face. “My sister and I were disheartened. No matter what we tried, we couldn’t achieve any sort of peace for you. We realized it would take something even more powerful than us to accomplish that goal.”

“Time,” Celestia finished for her sister. But Hurricane didn’t hear her. Instead, he was fixated on Luna’s face, unable to blink, trying to comprehend what she had said.

“Lūn,” Hurricane breathed, relapsing into her Cirran name. “What did you say about… about the pegasi?”

Luna cocked her head. “The pegasi? I said they flew to the east, driven from their homes.” She paused, noticing the commander’s expression. “What do you—?”

“West,” Hurricane interjected. “We flew west. Not east. The Usurper destroyed our home, remember?” He realized that his wings were trembling. Part of him wanted to fly back to Everfree and forget everything he had heard and everything he was likely going to hear.

Celestia made such a tiny gasp that Hurricane almost didn’t notice it. “Luna… they don’t—”

A knock on the door interrupted her, and the dark face of a unicorn thestral appeared in the doorframe. “Mistress? You called for me?”

Twister paced back and forth in front of the old church, its ash-blackened face seemingly watching her from hollow windows above. Tiny shards of glass crunched under her horseshoes as she ground them into the dust. Every so often she looked around, making sure that nopony was observing her from any of the abandoned side streets. Under the setting sun to the west, the hustle and bustle of Everfree’s closing markets and vendors still produced a small din which managed to slink its way into her ears. The furry appendages twitched at the noise, and Twister tugged the hood further down over her face.

The flutter of wings caused her to stiffen, and she stood stock still for a few seconds. Forcing her shoulders to relax, the Cirran turned towards the burnt-out face of the church, gazing upon it for a few seconds before lowering her head in feigned reverence. Out of the shadows of her hood, she looked towards the newcomer.

It was Pan Sea, just as she expected him. He took a step forward then stopped, obviously not recognizing Twister and being held from approaching her for his usual fear of strangers. With a deep sigh of relief, Twister lifted her head and flung back the hood of her robe. “Pan Sea.”

Pan Sea’s eyes widened. “Twister! I didn’t think it was you at first.,” he said, quickly cantering the remaining distance towards her. He stopped and looked at her robe. “What’s with the disguise?”

Twister looked around her one more time , then put a hoof on Pan Sea’s back and began to shepherd him towards the church. “I didn’t want to be followed. Come on, come on. It’s safe to talk inside.”

She left little room for Pan Sea to argue, and within a few seconds she had safely shut the heavy iron door behind them. Taking a few last seconds to wind down, the mare gestured to Pan Sea with a wing and began to walk deeper into the church. “What did you find?”

Pan Sea looked around the ashy ruins of the church and the dusty sunlight pouring in from the holes in the roof and shuddered. “Queen Platinum happened to be with him when I stopped by. They were talking about government and politics and the like.” There was a crunch under his hoof. Lifting it up, he saw the blackened skeleton of a rat clinging to it. With a small squeak he shook the bones off and scurried closer to Twister. “Why did we have to meet here of all places? Isn’t your office safe enough?”

“I caught a unicorn snooping around my office the yesterday,” Twister grumbled. “I don’t know how he got in or what he was doing there, but I know it wasn’t anything good.” Skirting a pile of charred debris, she finally came to a stop near the scorched altar. “I’m going to have Star Swirl look at it later, but I’m pretty sure that he was placing listening spells around the room. I don’t need any of this getting into the wrong hooves.”

“Still though,” Pan Sea whined, trying to find someplace modestly clean enough to stand in. “Why here? Why not one of the parks or something by the river? This place gives me the creeps.”

“It’s the only place nopony would think to look,” Twister commented. She wandered over to one of the stained glass windows and poked her head out between the shattered panels, still wary of any followers. “Burnt down churches have that sort of vibe that keeps ponies away, you know?”

Pan Sea swallowed, all too familiar with the feeling. He fought the urge to open his wings as apprehension slowly washed over him, seemingly dripping onto his back along with the fine granules of dusty ash that fell from the vaulted and charred ceiling. The shafts of dusty light that pierced the marred frescoes and tarnished chandeliers fell on piles of crushed and burnt wood, flattened pews, and shattered glass. A magnificent golden dish, the representation of the sun and the holy icon for Celeste and Her followers, lay bent and broken in the corner, its face covered with soot. It was a shame that the church had been razed during the first riot all those months ago; while not a follower himself, Pan Sea still respected Celeste as befitting of a Cirran goddess. Some part of him was pained to see one of Her holy churches reduced to little more than a ruin, an afterthought on the edge of town.

Walking back towards the altar, Twister rested her forehooves on its sooty surface, her shoes making a metallic clink with the marble. “So what did they say?” she asked, leaning forward. “Please tell me I’m mistaken about Greenleaf. I don’t want to have to tell Clover that her father’s behind all of this.”

Pan Sea shifted uncomfortably. “He and Platinum were talking about who would take over the Legion if both Hurricane and Typhoon were dead. Platinum sounded fairly convinced that Typhoon was dead.”

Twister’s wings twitched. “…What?” She shook her head. “No, Platinum can’t be behind this. She wouldn’t topple herself, and she knows that the only thing propping her up is Hurricane and the Legion.”

“Then what do you think is going on?” Pan Sea asked, leaning forward. “If Platinum’s not behind any of this, then what does that mean?”

The Legatus thought for a moment. “Did they say anything else?”

“They talked a lot about trying to reform the Legion and trying to install somepony closer to their interests in Hurricane’s stead. Chiseled Gem?” The stallion thought for a moment, when suddenly his eyes lit up. “Oh! I remember him. He was the unicorn leading River Rock’s scattered resistance when the commander and I arrived in the Diamond Kingdom after cleaning up Cloudsdale. He seemed like a likeable stallion and competent officer.”

Twister frowned. “Chiseled Gem’s always been close to the royal family as one of the Diamond Guard’s captains. He might be a decent pony at heart, but he’ll still bend to the queen’s wishes.” She shudder and looked away. “And we both know how his son turned out.”

“If Typhoon hadn’t have killed him already, I might have put the sword through his neck for her,” Pan Sea stated resolutely. “I never met him, but the stories she’s told me… ugh.” He shuddered, causing his bladed wings to rattle against his armored sides. “At least she loves Tempest. The little colt’s adorable, and he’ll make a great legionary someday.”

Twister nodded. “I’ve been doing what I can to keep him distracted while Pathfinder and Iron Rain try to find Typhoon. I’ve got him thinking that his mom is on a secret mission for the Legion and won’t be back for a week or two. Still,” she shrugged, shaking her head forlornly, “he won’t buy it forever. I’d like to never have to come to the point when he doesn’t.”

“Yeah, that’s… yeah.” Pan Sea finished with a small shake of his head. “But what does this all mean? What are we going to do about it?”

“From what I can tell, it’s a power grab, plain and simple,” Twister said. “Platinum’s always been at odds with Hurricane ever since we moved to the Compact Lands. Even though they mostly resolved their differences five years ago, she still would rather do without him.” The mare sighed and pinched a hoof to her brow. “By putting somepony loyal to her and the unicorns in my brother’s place, she’ll be securing two of Equestria’s three executive seats. With that sort of power, she can veto a sizeable portion of the bills that we pass in Parliament, unless we can put together something greater than a two-thirds majority with almost every resolution—and that’s with Puddinghead’s support, too, but the queen more or less has him whipped.”

Pan Sea paused, trying to reason through Twister’s logic. “So what you’re saying is that Queen Platinum likely isn’t behind this, but she’s taking the opportunity to capitalize on it and accomplish her own goals?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Twister noted with a slight bob of her head. “Platinum didn’t start the riots—she loved her husband, and she was devastated when he died—but she’s a politician, and a politician’s first job is to advance the interests of their constituents.”

“I thought a politician’s first job was to look out for the nation?” Pan Sea asked

Twister’s laugh was absolutely devoid of any mirth, replaced with a sad sarcasm. “Hah, that’s what we tell you, and you believe it. It’s easier to get things done that way—there’s less public interference then.” She shook her head, smiling. “Let me ask you this, Pan Sea. When you voted for me for my Parliament seat—and don’t you tell me that you didn’t—did you actually know what I was campaigning on?”

Pan Sea flustered, his cheeks beginning to drift towards the red end of the spectrum. “Uh… I mean… change and that sort of thing?”

Twister flashed her teeth in an amused smile. “Yes, change, a staple of any politician’s rhetoric. I never really said what I was going to change, just that I was going to do it. But that’s politics for you,” she said, opening her wings in a placating gesture. “Lying is an art, and by the gods, we’re the best at it.”

The yellow stallion suddenly felt the need to double check everything Twister had told him in the past twenty-five years against more reliable sources.

“Now, Platinum,” Twister continued, “she knows that if she takes control of Equestria’s executive branch, she can run it almost like the Diamond Kingdom. And unless the rest of us break off, which we can’t, or if she’s overthrown, which isn’t likely, there isn’t much that could stop her.” Clicking her hooves against the altar one more time, Twister pushed off and began to pace around the dais, flicking loose ash off of the priest’s magnificent chair with a wing. “Now, I have no doubt that Platinum wants to see Equestria survive as it is. If I’m good at reading ponies, and I like to believe that I am, I can tell from looking at her that she has nothing but Equestria’s best interests at heart.”

Pan Sea gave Twister the courtesy of a few seconds before stepping forward. “But…”

“But,” Twister continued, flashing Pan Sea a worried glance, “she wants to do it her way. She’s not used to taking orders from equals or other ponies outside of her family. She’s very much a ‘my way or the high way’ kind of mare. Hurricane’s been able to keep that somewhat in check, but she’s a good deal of years his younger, and unicorns live much longer than us pegasi do.” She chuckled, shrugging her wings as she added as an aside, “What do we normally live to be, sixty at most? And that’s from old age, too. The unicorns live to be around eighty or ninety, and the earth ponies easily post triple digit numbers. But I guess that’s in our nature; live fast, live hard, and don’t regret anything when your time comes. Our lives are too short for that.”

The Legatus then frowned and strode back to the altar. “But like I was saying, Platinum is going to outlive my brother, you, and me by a few decades. Sooner or later, she’ll get the control she wants. She can be a great force for Equestria’s future, or she could lead us astray. I think part of the reason why my brother can even tolerate her is because he knows this as well. Unless somepony helps guide her sense of duty and helps her to shake off her misguided preconceptions, she’ll mistakenly lead this nation to ruin one way or the other.”

Picking up a small rock near the altar, the mare held it out before Pan Sea. “Platinum is like this rock, you see. The perfect size to put in a sling. It has the power to change the world; it can do incredible things if used properly, like kill a pony. But it’s not going to kill anypony without somepony else to aim it and give it the force it needs to break a skull.” She tossed the rock aside, letting it clatter across the ash-stained ground. “Likewise, that same rock can be used against friends instead of enemies, based on who grabs it and who slings it. Unless somepony helps guide Platinum and gives her the push she needs to do what’s right, she could be forced in the wrong direction and end up killing Equestria with no intention of doing so.”

Pan Sea walked over to where Twister had tossed the rock and scooped it up with his wing. “And you’re saying that somepony else already has their hooves on this rock—on Platinum,” he said, turning the stone over in his hoof.

Twister nodded. “It certainly seems that way. I don’t know what’s going on with her or how Greenleaf fits into this whole thing, but I need to know for sure before I make any further plans.” Walking around the altar, she took Pan Sea’s hoof and placed a small silver pendant in it. “I want you to figure out where Greenleaf’s allegiance lies. I want to trust him, but oftentimes we’re not given these luxuries.”

The centurion looked at the brooch. “What is this?”

“The symbol of the rebels,” Twister informed him, tapping it lightly. “Iron Rain found it on a bunch of the bodies that Typhoon’s squad had left behind. Keep an eye out for it; if you see anypony wearing this on their clothes, let me know immediately. But don’t ask about it; this only works if the rebels assume that we haven’t caught on yet.”

Pan Sea blinked and pocketed the brooch. “Of course, Twister. I’ll do my best.” He smiled, and his wings relaxed a hair. “Nopony ever really notices a soldier in a state like this, anyway.”

The mare smiled and patted Pan Sea on the back with a wing. “Good hunting, Pan Sea. Let’s… let’s just hope we can get something good out of this whole affair. We can’t afford another setback. Not now.” She looked wistfully out the eastern window, where the dark hues of dusk were beginning to settle over Equestria. The somber shadows of the passing clouds settled peacefully over sleeping towers of stone, and the first winking lights of torches and candles appeared within their windows. It was such a tranquil feeling, a feeling seemingly too good for Equestria to ever experience.

“Not after we’ve come this far.”

“I hate this.”

“Now, honey, it’s only for a little—”

“I hate you.”

“Dear, that’s just the pride talking. Be a big girl and put it on.”

“No.”

“Honey…”

“Fuck off.”

“Look, it’ll be a whole lot easier if you’d just stop squirming.”

“Fine!” Legate Iron Rain hissed, taking the tattered cloak from Pathfinder. With an angry glare, she dropped the coarse and rotting fabric over her body in place of her usual armor and shifted uncomfortably as her wings sought—and failed—to find openings for them. She shuddered and cast him one last hateful glare. “I loathe you.”

“Not what you said last night,” Finder said with a mischievous smile. The stallion was donning a similarly weathered poncho of his own, although he had given himself the opportunity to cut wing slits in his own attire. His forest green feathers had been splattered with dirt and caked with mud to try and blend in with the ponies of the slums. He had even gone so far as to have Rain cut away his mane with a dagger to make it look like he was fighting lice. Glancing at the mirror in the building on the Legion’s side of the Choke, he was shocked by the pony he saw in the glass. He looked like something life had chewed up and spat out. He only hoped it’d be good enough to pass for a resident of Everfree’s slums.

Well, he’d find out sooner or later based on who tried to kill him.

He glanced to Rain, who was busying herself by rolling in the muck in the street, making sure it was plastered to her body and clothes. After what had happened to Typhoon and her centurions, Finder knew better than to make the same mistake twice. Any soldier higher than a lowly private was marked and attacked in the slums, and it’d be impossible to remain inconspicuous in full armor anyways. The only way he and Rain had a shot at finding what the rebels did to Typhoon was to make sure that they didn’t know to stay quiet around him.

Scrambling to her hooves, Rain trotted over to Finder, growling in disgust. “And you won’t even let me take my sword. You know it was punishable by death in Nimbus to steal another pony’s family weapon?” She shook her head, her eyes burning holes in Finder’s coat. “At least I can keep Mary,” she said, toying with the bucknife she sheathed against her chest, “and Sinistra and Dextra.” Her wings shifted under her cloak, and Finder could hear the small scraping of wingblade scales gliding past each other.

“First off, we’re married, so technically it would be my weapon too. Second off, you stole that sword from a dead griffon,” Finder replied, pointing to the massive weapon laid bare on the table in the checkpoint near them. “Besides, there’s no place for you to hide your sword, and we don’t want the same welcoming party that Typhoon got.”

Rain frowned. “Really? I do, actually. It’ll be nice to kill something, for a change.”

“If you go finding trouble on purpose, I’m just going to leave you to your fate,” Finder said, shaking his head. “Stupidity isn’t worth dying over.”

“Pffft. Like you’d ever leave me in trouble,” the mare said, rubbing her grimy side against Finder’s wing.

“If you’re trying to get yourself killed, then who am I to stop you?” Finder retorted with a smile.

“And that’s why Cirrans aren’t any fun,” Rain drawled with a roll of her eyes. “Live fast and die young; that’s what any true pegasus should hope for.”

Finder sighed and walked away. “I don’t know about you, dear, but I’m more than happy to grow old and live out the rest of my days with a tankard in one hoof and a grandkid in the other.”

Iron Rain shook her head in disappointment. “Careful what you wish for, Finder. The gods love fucking with us however they can. You’re going to regret saying that one day.”

Finder paused, and his eyes darkened. “I’ve had my fair share of regrets. There’s not a day that passes that I don’t see her face. Carver and I talk about what happened some nights, but others…” he gave a weak shrug of his wings. “I’ll never forgive myself for what happened… what it came down to.”

Rain bit her lip, then quietly moved to Finder’s side and nuzzled him. “It was the only way her story could end, Finder. I understand what was going through her head, and I sympathize with her. I’d be lying to say that the same thoughts weren’t going through my own head at the time.”

The scout centurion glanced at his reflection in the mirror. Now he didn’t want to go into the slums and do this. All he wanted to do was curl up in a ball back home and forget about life for a while, but he couldn’t. His happiness wasn’t what mattered here; Typhoon’s life was on the line, and her life was far more important than his. And he made a promise to Twister that he’d do whatever he could to find the missing Praetorian. Not just to Twister; his promise to the Cirran Legatus was also a promise to Tempest that he’d find the little colt’s mommy. He couldn’t live with himself if he was too slow to save her because of his own self-pity.

As Pathfinder began to walk down the street towards a less-trafficked section of the Choke, Rain cast one last forlorn look at her abandoned sword and locked the checkpoint behind her. “Maybe another day,” was all she muttered to the abandoned sword, her voice filled with sadness. Finder simply turned and watched her from a distance, an amused smile on his face.

“Let it go, Rain,” Finder said patting her on the back as she passed by. “Don’t worry about your baby, we’ll be back soon enough.”

Rain sighed. “I love that sword.”

“Yes, I know,” Finder said, shaking his head. “You loved it more than our firstborn. The poor filly was always so jealous of mommy’s weapon.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I didn’t grow up with dolls, Finder,” Rain countered, levelling a glare at him. “That sword was my childhood.”

“Mmm.”

The two disguised soldiers walked side by side until Finder found a suitable point to cross the Choke. Tall, stone buildings covered the narrow streets, and not a pony was to be seen as the light slowly died with the setting sun in the west. Stopping by the corner, Finder leaned around the side of a building and squinted, looking for any signs that they were being watched.

“I still don’t get why you get to have you wings open,” Rain growled. Underneath her coat, her wings struggled to settle flat and naturally against her sides. “I don’t like getting pinned on the ground.”

“You’re too recognizable, legate,” Finder noted, placing extra emphasis on Iron Rain’s rank. “Hiding your wings and disguising you as an earth pony was the only way that you could waltz right into the slums with me. Or would you rather I go alone?” He glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

Rain frowned and took out her frustration on a little pebble, kicking it across the street. “Did I mention that I hate you?”

“Love you too, honey,” Finder replied with a cheery smile. Then he turned his attention back to the Choke, double-checking that it was safe to cross. With a wave of his wing, he signaled to Rain, and the two ponies galloped across the street together. When they were safely on the other side and hidden in the burnt-out storefront of an old tailor’s store, Finder paused and peered through a hole in the wall into the center of Everfree’s slums.

“What now?” Rain asked, sidling up next to him.

“We look for anypony wearing one of these,” Finder said, reaching a hoof into the folds of his robe. He pulled out a silver brooch and passed it to Rain, who took it carefully in her hooves. “Anypony wearing it is from the same group that attacked Typhoon.”

Rain sneered and passed the brooch back to Finder. “I remember these things. They were all over the bodies that Typhoon’s group left behind. What do you think it’s supposed to be?”

“Haven’t the faintest,” Finder said, pocketing the brooch again. “If we manage to catch one of the rebels, maybe we can ask him.”

“Ask him. Right,” Rain grinned. Her hoof traced along her buck knife, Mary, which she kept hidden under her tattered robes near her left wing.

Finder regarded his wife for a few moments before shaking his head, sighing. “Honey, if you get us killed, I’m going to haunt you for the rest of eternity.”

“I’ll be dead too, dumbass,” Rain retorted, a coy glint in her eye.

“Then I’ll kill myself again in the Great Skies so I can haunt you in the afterlife,” Finder countered without missing a beat. Flicking his ear towards the center of town, he began to trudge deeper into the slums, doing his best to look downtrodden and irritable.

Rain quickly scampered up to his side, walking so close that their rags were brushing. “You’re so worried about them noticing me,” she hissed into his ear, watching the gray forms wandering to and fro with a wary eye, “but what about yourself?”

Finder rolled his eyes and pulled out a half-empty bottle of whiskey from the folds of his clothing. “Me? I just look like your average, everyday drunkard.” He capped the statement off with a healthy dose of alcohol. Wiping his lips on his foreleg, he carefully sequestered the bottle back inside his poncho. “Anypony talks to me, they’ll smell alcohol. Legionaries don’t drink.” He walked a few steps more, then paused, glancing at an unconvinced Iron Rain. He sighed, and his wings drooped a few inches. “Fine. How about this?”

The stallion closed his eyes and focused for a few seconds. The effect was subtle, but it did cause Rain to hesitate with her steps for a split second. Before her eyes, Finder’s forest green coat turned a solid slate gray, and his graying mane suddenly darkened to something blacker. The fur of his coat elongated by an inch, helping to rough up his silhouette. When he opened his eyes, the pegasus looked like a whole new pony.

Rain shook her head. “You know it’s creepy when you do that, right?”

“Can’t look as weird as it feels,” Finder grunted, teasing his new appearance with a hoof. “Earth Empatha might be rare in the Legion, but all the best scouts can use it. The camouflage comes in handy.”

“So does a sword,” Rain muttered, still feeling sore over having to leave her weapon behind. “But to each their own, I suppose.”

Finder would have answered her, but ponies passing a few feet in front of him forced him to shut his mouth. Looking around, he and Rain found themselves in the slums’ central market, complete with all sorts of spoiled or stolen goods. Ponies moved around without rhyme or reason, seemingly milling around for the sake of something to do. It would be easy to get lost in the crowd, so Finder reached out with a wing filled with gray feathers and wrapped it around Rain’s shoulders. The two pegasi carefully navigated their way to the center of the market square, stopping by a cracked marble fountain. Whatever water that was left in the thing had turned into a disgusting brown sludge. Finder couldn’t imagine ponies trying to drink from it.

“Keep an eye out for the brooch,” Finder whispered to Rain while his keen eyes searched through the crowd swirling around them, “and don’t make any sudden moves.”

Rain gestured with her head to a guard tower erected near the Choke and the pegasi watching the slums from within. “Think they’ll help out if shit goes south?”

Finder chuckled. “Do we look like legionaries, Rain? You know better than I how the Legion would react if they saw a scuffle going on down here.”

The mare scowled and turned in place, going back to hunting for brooches. “Not after what happened to Commander Typhoon,” she said, answering her own question. “At least, not without a century’s worth of soldiers behind them.”

“Right; like I said, no sudden movements, and let’s see if we can get through this in one p—”

His words were cut off as an enormous earth pony stallion bumped into him. The contact was casual, but the brute carried enough mass to send Finder stumbling backwards. The behemoth paused and looked over his shoulder, regarding Finder with a lazy and annoyed glare. “Watch it,” the pony growled, neglecting the fact that he was the one who had bumped into Finder.

At his side, Finder felt Rain tense and heard the small zipping sound of feathers sliding against each other. He reached out a hoof to stabilize himself against his wife and to hold her back, and he opened his wings in apology. “Soary, sir. ‘Twon’t ‘appen ag’in, Ah promise.”

The stallion snorted and turned around, flicking his mangy and dirty tail across Finder’s nose as he did so. With a short roll of his shoulders, the brute adjusted the heavy gray cloak he wore draped across his shoulders and pushed through the crowd, forcing the ponies in his path to step out of the way or be crushed underhoof.

“…That was close,” Finder mumbled when the behemoth was a safe distance away. Turning to Rain, his smile faded when he saw her begin to follow. “Rain? What is it?”

“He was wearing one of the brooches,” she dully answered, her eyes never leaving the stallion’s massive figure.

Finder faltered. “Uh… you sure? I mean, I didn’t get a good look at him when he was inches away from crushing me to a bloody paste, but—”

“I saw it,” Rain interrupted, not changing her course nor slowing down. “He’s with them.”

“Eh heh… maybe we can find somepony a little scrawnier to follow?”

Rain rolled her eyes and swatted Finder with her tail. “Don’t be such a baby. I’ll keep you safe.”

“He’s huge!” Finder hissed, trotting to stay by Rain’s side.

“Yeah; I want to see how big of a crater he’s gonna leave when he falls.”

“But… but…” Finder’s ears flattened against his head as his wife continued unabated. With a sigh, he swiftly trotted after her. “I’m going to regret this,” he grumbled to himself as he and Rain followed in the stallion’s wake.

Maintaining about a twenty-foot distance behind the earth pony, Finder began studying his target. The pony was big, at least four foot at the shoulder, with a thick and shaggy brown coat that was mottled and matted into a haven for lice. Mud clung to the long hairs trailing at his fetlocks, and every time he lifted a hoof Finder could see the rusty horseshoes filed down to jagged ends. Spikes protruded half an inch from a recess in the bottom of the steel; getting bucked by one of them was going to leave a pony with a lot more than broken bones.

Finder scoffed. Like broken bones weren’t bad enough. He was pretty sure the behemoth could kick down a brick wall with ease. Almost all his weight was muscle, wrapped around a sturdy frame with bones as dense as iron. The centurion had no idea what sort of slop the slums managed to scrape together to feed a pony that big. But for all he knew, the stallion could have been living off of granite. Taking another peek at his target, it certainly looked that way to Finder.

“Where do you think he’s going?” Rain whispered. Before Finder could deign to answer, the stallion abruptly turned and sauntered over to a market stall in heavy, thundering steps. Raising an eyebrow, Finder and Rain exchanged a look before slipping into the crowds after him.

If the mare behind the stall didn’t notice the massive stallion approaching through the crowd, the crack his hoof made when it collided with the wooden counter certainly gained her attention. With a small shriek, the pegasus mare scrambled to attention, her wings quivering with each panting breath. “Oh! Uh, hey, Steel! I didn’t think you’d be back—or I mean, not this soon, or—”

“Shut it, Marigold,” the stallion ordered in his low rumble. The mare immediately snapped her mouth closed and backed away, struggling to keep her wings from shaking. Finder could actually see the sweat pouring off of her brow. Leaning forward, the brute of a pony sneered in the merchant’s face. “Did you scrape together the order yet?”

The mare’s throat bobbed as she stalled for an answer. “Oh, of course, Steel, of course I did! I’m just, uh, waiting for my delivery pony to bring them here!” She nodded emphatically, desperately trying to convince the pony looming across from her. “I’ll let you know when that happens, okay?” She smiled, but the nervous shifting of her eyes betrayed her terror. “Right, St—?”

Finder actually jumped at the speed which Steel’s hoof connected with Marigold’s face. The way the brute moved made it seem like hardly more than a lazy motion, but the crack of hoof meeting skull and Marigold’s cry of pain as she dropped to the ground told Finder it was anything but. Scowling, Steel took a step back from the stall and glared at the sniveling mare. “Get up.”

Rain tensed next to Finder, and the pegasus quickly had to stay his wife with a wing. “Don’t,” he hissed, watching Marigold slowly work her hooves back under her. “We can’t lose our lead.”

“Fuck this guy,” Rain growled, and Finder could feel her bladed wings twitching under her robes. “Let me introduce him to Sinistra and Dextra. We’ll see who’s going to cry like a bitch then.”

“You dragged me along to follow him, now we aren’t going to stop until we’re done,” he hissed. “But if it makes you feel any better, I’ll let you introduce him to Mary when it’s over.”

The idea seemed to placate Rain, and Finder inched the two of them closer to the stall. Marigold’s face was already swelling, and blood ran down her left cheek from where the brute’s hoof had punched it. Shuddering, she tried to blink away her tears, sniffling through her broken nose. The scene had briefly attracted the attention of nearby ponies, but after seeing the size of Steel, most simply turned away and left the unfortunate flower merchant to her fate.

“This isn’t some sort of joke,” Steel growled. He casually examined his hoof and the blood that spattered the rusty shoe clinging to it. “The mistress needs this order by tomorrow at the absolute latest. And you told me you could pull it together, and I promised her I’d have it ready by then.” He snarled, revealing a set of yellowed teeth. “I do not like being made a fool of, especially to her.”

“Please, Steel,” Marigold whimpered, shying away from the stallion’s glare. “I’ve been doing the best that I can! But the Legion… it’s hard to get into their stores even on the best of days! I’ve got a shot lined up for tonight, but I don’t think I’ve got the muscle to get in and out on my own!”

Steel snorted. “The entire reason I came to you, Marigold, was because you promised me you were quick and quiet. That you’d be in and out before anypony knew you were there.” He leaned closer, and Marigold recoiled from his acrid breath. “If that’s not the case, then we’re done with you.”

Marigold’s yellow-orange coat suddenly paled, and she desperately ran a hoof through her brown mane. “Steel Plow, please, be reasonable! Look, I’ll—I’ll have them tonight!” she whimpered. “I’ll get them for you! Just tell me when and where to meet you, and I’ll be there!”

The stallion’s expression didn’t even flicker. “Two o’clock by the Maressissippi. Bring the order, and don’t be late.”

The pegasus nodded. “Of course! Don’t worry, I’ll be there. Six swords, ten daggers, two shields, and diamond gemstones. I know a storehouse that has all of them!”

“Ten swords. Twelve daggers. Three shields.”

“What?!” Marigold exclaimed, stepping back. “That wasn’t part of the deal! Five hundred bits for six swords, ten daggers, two shields, and some diamond gemstones! You can’t just change it like that!”

Steel Plow tapped his hoof against the counter one last time for emphasis. “Ten, twelve, and three. As many gemstones as you can find.” He stepped back, shedding one last dangerous glare in Marigold’s direction. “We’ll kill your oldest and throw her body in the river if you’re not on time. Then your son five minutes later.” He blinked, watching Marigold stiffen like a corpse. “We’ll save the foal for when you finally do arrive. If you have everything, then maybe we’ll give her back to you. Otherwise, we’ll send her back one piece at a time.”

“My children…” Marigold whispered. Her eyes were wide and not seeing anything. “What did you do to my children?!” she wailed, slamming her hooves against her temples. “What did you do?!”

The stallion remained unmoved. “Two o’clock, Marigold.” He turned and walked away, but stopped before he was out of earshot. “And I wouldn’t bother going back home. The Legion’s looking for a pony that matches your name and description who murdered a soldier on patrol there.” Then he turned and forced his way through the crowd, his head bobbing with each heavy step.

The merchant watched him go, trying to remain composed and indignant. Her lip quivered, however, and just a few seconds later she broke down and collapsed against her stall, bawling.

Both Finder and Rain saw the stallion moving away from them, his figure growing smaller and smaller with every lengthy stride, yet neither of them followed. Instead, they stood to the side as Marigold heaved and shook against her stand. Her face buried in her forelegs, the mare trembled and sobbed, trying to hide away from the world. Ponies approaching her stall hoping to do business took one look at her and awkwardly moved someplace else.

“He’s getting away,” Finder muttered, but not taking a step forward.

“Yeah,” Rain growled, watching him go. Then her attention turned to the broken mare behind the stall. Both her and Finder exchanged a quick glance. Nodding, the two ponies abandoned their pursuit of Steel Plow and paced up to the merchant’s stand.

Finder cleared his throat and approached first, with Rain slightly behind him. “Uh… Marigold, was it?” When the mare didn’t respond, he bit his lip and gingerly touched her shoulder with a hoof. “I’m really sorry—”

“Get away!” Marigold shrieked, suddenly jerking away and holding her shoulder like Finder’s touch had burnt it. “Go away! We’re c-closed! Just… just leave me alone!”

Finder quickly recoiled as the mare tried her best to scare him away with a furious stare. Tears stained her coat as they ran from her pink and puffy eyes, and her wings were held open in a desperate and primal fear. Some sort of crude mascara bled from beneath her eyes, yet despite that, Finder realized she was an exceedingly beautiful mare. The idea was kind of shocking to him; he didn’t expect anything beautiful could survive in Everfree’s slums.

Rain stepped forward where her husband faltered. “This Steel guy, you know him?”

Marigold looked between the two of them with hurt and confusion. “What? Why?! Why do y-you want to know!” She stomped a hoof in anger. “What does this even mean to you? Why do you care?!”

The legate stepped forward and caressed Marigold’s cheek in a hoof, careful not to touch the swollen part where Steel had struck her. The merchant flinched from the touch, but didn’t slap it away. “My husband and I are both parents, Marigold,” she said calmly, quietly. “Our first died when she was twelve. Our other three are between eleven and fifteen.” Marigold was quivering, yet she kept her eyes locked with Rain’s as the fellow mother opened to her. “They mean the world to us. And it’s obvious that your children mean the world to you, too.” She took her hoof away from Marigold’s face, and the mare almost sighed with disappointment as she did. “What about your children? Would care to… tell us about them?”

Marigold was silent for the longest time. Finder was almost convinced she wasn’t going to say anything and looked over his shoulder, checking for somepony else to follow, when she finally spoke again. “My oldest is my daughter, Lavender. She’s seven, and such a sweet, sweet filly.” Tears streamed down her face, yet she didn’t heave, didn’t cry. “My son Aspen is four. He’s a unicorn, like his father. Then there’s my foal, Lilac.” She shuddered, and a faint smile tugged on her lips. “Such a tough little girl, she is. I’ve raised her by myself since she was born. My husband… wasn’t there anymore a few months into the pregnancy. Lavender and Aspen remember him, but little Lilac will never know him.”

“Your husband was a unicorn?” Finder asked, curious. “When did you get together?”

Marigold shrugged, although it was clear by the look in her eyes that she was revisiting clear and wistful memories. “Nigh on eight years ago. I was sixteen then. My momma had me almost fresh off of the Exodus. If you go by that logic, I guess I was in Dioda for a brief bit.” She giggled slightly, although she was still too weary to truly smile or laugh.

Rain simply raised an eyebrow. “You had your eldest when you were seventeen?”

“I was old enough to know what love was,” Marigold snapped, frowning. “And I’ve raised my kids to the best of my abilities all my life. I’d do anything in the world for them…” Her voice trailed off, and she shuddered. “I’m really sorry. I just… I need to go and get some things ready. I need to get my kids back, or I’ll die trying.” She quickly began to gather up her things, sorting bouquets of flowers back into buckets, and strapped her saddlebags to her flanks. Pulling out a small metal box, she dumped the meagre amount of bits she had earned that day into it and tucked it under a wing. With the feathers safely wrapping it, Finder couldn’t even tell that she had the strongbox separate from her belongings.

“Let us help you,” Rain said, slamming her hoof against the counter. The noise caused Marigold to jump and stumble back, her left wing fidgeting slightly to hold onto the strongbox. “There’s no way you can rob a Legion armory by yourself and get that many weapons to that bastard. Let the two of us help you, and maybe we can make Steel and his asshole friends pay for foalnapping your children.” Marigold looked at them hesitantly, but Rain leaned forward. “Please, Marigold. I couldn’t live this down if I walked away and something bad happened to you and your children.”

Eventually, the mare sighed and nodded. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice almost impossible to hear, “you can come. Just… who are you?”

“Legate Iron Rain and Scout Centurion Pathfinder,” Finder stated, stepping forward proudly. When the mare took several steps backwards in shock, he shook his head and held out a hoof. “Don’t worry, we overheard everything Steel said. We know you’re innocent, and don’t you think it’ll be easier to get into a Legion armory when somepony has the key?”

Marigold watched him through narrowed eyes, her wing crests angled out and ready to take flight at a moment’s notice. Eventually, she sighed and lowered her guard, ready to either accept their help or resign to her fate. “I suppose so. But… you do realize I have to steal from you guys, right?”

“Not a problem,” Rain commented, a triumphant smirk on her face. “It’s not stealing if somepony brings ‘em back when all’s over with. Then it’s just borrowing.” She reached across the counter and slapped Marigold on the shoulder, eliciting a small yelp from the merchant. “Now, chin up! We’ll see your children safe and sound in no time. I swear on my Nimban honor.”

“And I’ll swear by whatever else you need me to,” Finder said, smiling. “I don’t really need to promise some deity something to do the right thing, anyway.”

This time, Marigold smiled and nodded a few times. “You… you’re serious!” When she saw both of them nod, she laughed, and her shoulders seemed to shed hundreds of pounds of stress. “By the gods, if angels existed, you are definitely two of them!”

Rain waved off the compliment, but Finder simply snorted. “Heh. I don’t know about my wife, but I’d make a lousy angel. I’m too fond of the bottle myself.” With that, he pulled out his whiskey and took another swig.

Marigold laughed a little laugh, then looked between the two soldiers. Already, a fierce determination was beginning to form behind her shining, teary eyes. Something in her heart told her that she could do this. Already she could imagine her children’s embraces as they returned to her.

“So,” she asked, wiping the blood from her face with a grim finality, “when do we get started?”

Chapter 7: The Knife that Cuts Deepest

Twilight shivered as the cool March breeze tugged on her mane and slid through her coat. She and the Princesses had relocated to Luna’s tower as the blue mare took the reins from Celestia to bring forth the moon and the night. They had set aside the journal for now, taking time to reflect on everything and simply relax after the day’s stress. Now, they were resting on Luna’s balcony, watching over the twinkling lights of the Canterlot nightlife and the sleepy Ponyville in the valley below. Overhead, the stars and planets shone brightly through the midnight sky, and the moon glowed like a milky beacon, shedding its gentle light on the world below.

“Truly, tis a beautiful night for stargazing,” Luna said softly, almost to herself. Her teal eyes jumped from constellation to constellation, and she smiled faintly. “Our thanks to the pegasi for keeping it clear; the weather teams that run night shifts are so often underappreciated, as are most things that shine in the dark.” Her horn shimmered, and a trio of meteorites streaked across the sky, leaving colorful and sparkling trails in their wake.

Twilight gasped, watching the warden of the night work her magic. “You can do that?” she asked, incredulous. “I thought you just moved the moon.”

Luna smirked faintly. “A misunderstanding of Our power. We do not simply move the moon; our domain is the night in its entirety, not just its herald.” Faint trails of blue Arcana drifted off of her horn and seemingly melted into thin air, but Twilight could tell the alicorn was concentrating. Soon enough, the stars above increased in their intensity, some even shifting through a spectrum of color. Blue, purple, and golden auroras joined them in the night sky, gently dancing to and fro among the thin, wispy clouds that were so high up not even pegasi dared move them. The night was alive, vibrant, and beautiful. It stole Twilight’s breath.

“Wow… that’s beautiful,” she whispered. The unicorn turned towards the midnight alicorn. “Princess, you’ve been back for a while now. How come you haven’t done anything like this since the Elements restored you?”

Twilight was almost certain she saw a faint blush to the princess’ cheeks, but it disappeared as quickly as it had manifested. “A simple whim, really. We—I was overcome with the caprice to do so.” She waved a wing at the display before them. “And thus, behold.”

Celestia smiled, her demeanor gentle, loving, and encouraging. “You should make these displays more often, sister. The ponies of Equestria would love to see them.”

Unfortunately, that only seemed to damper Luna’s mood. She looked away, her eyes focusing on a distant figure standing in the shadows, its slitted yellow eyes never blinking as it watched over the land below. “We have tried that path before. It was not noticed, nor was it appreciated. Tis merely a waste of Our efforts and time.”

The white alicorn draped a wing over her younger sister’s back. “Times have changed since then, Luna. See that?” She opened her other wing and swept it across the twinkling lights of the city and the countryside. “More ponies stay up into the night than ever before. Manehattan has earned a reputation as ‘the city that never sleeps.’ Trust me, sister, you are appreciated more than you know. Loved even more so.”

Celestia’s assurances seemed to decompress the stress from Luna’s shoulders. “Thank you, sister,” she said, flashing a weak smile. But the topic still seemed to bother her, and Twilight bit her lip, feeling the chill coming off of Luna’s wings. Looking around for a change of topic, her eyes settled on the journal. She grabbed hold of it with her magic and held it in plain view of the two alicorns.

“Do you want to read the next chapter?” Twilight asked, her eyes looking from one to the other.

The sisters exchanged glances, then nodded. “Yes, We would like that very much,” Luna said. Casting a look back over her shoulder, she nodded at the shadowy figure with the yellow eyes. “Our vigil is still held by Eldest Sister, so we may retire to my chambers. Come.” She beckoned with a wing, opening the glass doors to her bedroom with her magic. Celestia and Twilight followed her inside, and Luna pulled several cushions of a dark blue plush fabric seemingly out of thin air for them to sit on.

While Celestia opened the journal to the bookmark, Twilight settled a little deeper into her cushion. Turning to Luna, she leaned forward. “Princess Luna?”

The midnight alicorn raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Twilight?”

“That figure out there... is she one of the thestrals Cyclone and Typhoon were describing?”

Luna nodded. “Yes. Her rank is Eldest Sister. She is the champion of Our Night Guard, and is maintaining Vigil for Us while We share this story. There are others in the Guard, but they are away on duty. I keep Eldest at the castle as my protector, not unlike Celestia’s chosen.”

Celestia’s eyebrow softly arched. “I gave you lieutenant Morning Star to be your bodyguard, as opposed to one of... those things.”

Although her demeanor remained unchanged, Twilight could sense the hesitancy in her voice. Luna responded by giving her sister an expression of dull anger. “Thou hast chosen thine own defender and champion, sister, and I exercise my own right to do the same. While the lieutenant is respectable as a military pony, he has no desire to be Our friend, and We mirror his sentiments. Therefore, I prefer their loyalty with such sensitive matters as the protection of my life. Even then I am frankly much better at protecting it myself than any bodyguard I could be given, and her presence is solely for her company. Unlike some princesses, my magic has not atrophied for a thousand years, and is still very much prepared for battle.”

The white alicorn frowned and started to object, but Twilight interrupted her. “Princess Luna, what exactly are Night Guard?”

But Celestia spoke first, and her voice was filled with a sort of damning anger that Twilight had only heard from her on sparse occasion. “We do not need to discuss this. They are unimportant.”

“Unimportant? Sister, you insult their memory.” Luna shifted on her bed, the satin sheets rippling under her hooves, but her eyes remained fixed on her sister. “I won’t deny what I did, nor will We let thou stop thine student from learning about them.”

“They are unimportant to the journal,” Celestia objected.

Luna raised an eyebrow. “They are exceedingly important to the journal.” Again Celestia opened her mouth to speak, but Luna stomped her hoof with a resounding krack—a truly terrifying feat considering the soft bed she was slamming it against. The shadows in the room flickered in intensity, and Twilight cowed back towards her mentor. “The Night Guard art mine own, sister. They art not thine. I have the right to discuss them as much as I want, and in as great detail as I find necessary. Thou will not deny me this.”

Celestia pursed her lips but said nothing. The shadows around the room faded back to their normal intensity, and Luna nodded, seeming satisfied. “As to your question, Twilight, the Night Guard is populated with the souls of ponies on the cusp of being condemned to Tartarus. They were sinners who sought penance, criminals who sought redemption, but were too short on time to fully atone for their wrongdoings. Rather than damn them, I found a better solution in the Night Guard.”

Twilight blinked, then furrowed her brow. “You mean the Night Guard are dead ponies?” At Luna’s nod, she looked between the two alicorns. “That’s... horrible!”

Luna simply raised a hoof, and Twilight immediately quieted down. “Thestrals are not zombies or skeletons, mindless thralls bound to do the bidding of their creators for all of eternity. Each thestral is a pony, yet not. As such, they act and think like normal ponies would, even though they serve me.”

While not entirely convinced, the scholarly portion of Twilight’s mind made her lean forward and fold her hooves over one another, willing to hear Luna’s explanation. “So how exactly are they different?”

“What you must understand first, Twilight, is that the pony’s soul remains mostly intact throughout the process.” Her horn flared to life, and a grid-like illusion appeared in the air before her. Simple pictures made out of pure Arcana took up the space like the vertices of a triangle. Gesturing to the bottom left picture, the princess continued. “A living pony is the embodiment of all three types of magic, although they may only use one of these, depending on their race. Arcana is the power of their mind, Empatha the power of their soul, and Endura the power of their body.” Here she traced a line from the pony in the bottom corner to a ghostly apparition of one at the top of the triangle. “When a pony dies, the arcane and empathic pieces of their identity separate from their enduric body, and move on to be judged. Celestia and myself catch these pieces, judge them, and then reward them with the Summer Lands or condemn them to Tartarus.”

Twilight frowned, scrunching her muzzle as she tried to visualize what was going on. “Let Us rephrase,” Luna said. “Imagine, if thou wouldst, a bur. At the center of the bur is the soul, the very core of a pony’s being, and attached to the center are spines. These are the thoughts and experiences of the soul. The ‘spines’ are easier for my sister and I to catch hold of when the pony dies, and easier to attach to the Summer Lands or Tartarus once they have passed judgment.” She paused, and raised an eyebrow. “You understand now?”

The purple mare nodded. “I understand all that. But isn’t making a zombie or a skeleton with necromancy the same process?” Twilight paused, organizing her thoughts. “To use your example, pulling a soul away from the afterlife is like trying to tear a bur off when it’s still caught in your fetlocks. You can’t really get the whole thing, because some of it still clings to the hair and breaks off. So how do you make a thestral instead?”

“The same thing still happens in a sense, but using alicorn magic as opposed to Arcana mitigates some of this damage,” Luna explained, crossing her forelegs. “As I mentioned earlier, a pony is made of all three types of magic. A unicorn practicing necromancy only has access to Arcana, which is sufficient enough to grab a soul by its ‘spines’, but, as you said, tears it to pieces in the process, irrevocably changing the very being of the pony they are trying to resurrect by removing their experiences and losing parts of the soul.” The line connected the ghostly pony at the top of the triangle and a thestral at the bottom right corner flashed. “By using only Arcana, a necromancer tears a soul apart as it tries to bring it from the afterlife. Without Empatha to manipulate the soul or Endura to sustain a body, you get zombies and skeletons. Such are little more than vassals that have pieces of a soul trapped with arcane binding, and require the consumption of living flesh to restore their mana and continue to function.

“Now, if you have access to all three types of magic—alicorn magic,” she elaborated, “then you can make a thestral.” Here, the line at the bottom of the triangle connecting the living pony with the thestral flashed. “With Arcana, you can catch hold of a soul before it flees for the afterlife. With Empatha, you can guide that soul to its body. With Endura, you can provide the means to reattach the soul to the body and sustain it in a manner that it is compatible and familiar with. Furthermore, Endura allows the mage to modify the body to her liking—thus, a thestral.”

“Oh,” was Twilight’s response. After thinking it over for a few seconds, she angled her head to the side. “So it’s like Mortal Coil’s spell, then?”

Luna blinked. “Thou knowest of him?” The relapse into archaic speech accompanied the sudden shift of her expression from scholarly to shocked. “How so?”

Celestia waved a hoof. “I told her Mortal Coil’s story years ago when she was much younger.” The corners of her mouth twitched. “I believe it’s the reason she’s taken so keen an interest in Commander Hurricane’s legacy.”

The younger of the two sisters didn’t seem thrilled. “You told her that story when she was but a youth?”

“Not all of it, Luna,” Celestia assured her. “We both know that there were parts of that story she wasn’t ready for at the time.”

“Wait, you mean there’s more to his story?” Twilight suddenly broke in, pointing to the journal. Frowning, she pointed at the book. “Well, is Morty going to be in this? Or Gale?”

Luna recoiled as if she’d been struck. “Thou knowest that name as well?” She looked to her sister, concern plainly written across her face. “We thought thou were reluctant to let anypony know of her story.”

“It came with the story of Mortal Coil,” Celestia said. Then, turning to Twilight, she smirked. “And as for your questions... maybe. We’ll see. After all...” She shook the journal in her magic. “...there’s still plenty more pages to go.”

“Then it would be most prudent to continue,” Luna observed. Twilight nodded in excitement.

With the rustling of pages, Celestia’s magic opened the journal to its book mark. “Let’s see... Ah, yes. We had just arrived in Everfree, hadn’t we?”

The chattering of birds accompanied the rise of the sun the next day, as the golden orb which dawn heralds lifted above the horizon far to the east. Within the Everfree castle, the shadows peeled off of the stone masonry and into the dark niches of its rooms and halls, clinging to shelter where they could. In the topmost tower along the eastern face of the structure, the sunlight slanted through the stained glass to fall upon the face of a sleeping pony in a myriad of different colors and lights.

In but a few moments, the mare stirred from her sleep. Her amethyst hair hung loosely across her neck and shoulders, the strands a pleasing contrast to the ivory of her coat. Hooves shuffled under the thin summer sheets draped across her body, and with the cracking of bones and a ladylike yawn, the mare opened her tired blue eyes. Squinting at the sunlight, Queen Platinum slowly rolled off of her bed to land on the silk carpets with a soft clop from each of her hooves.

The lethargic movements of Equestria’s monarch were the same as they had been for the four years since the castle had been built, and would be the same for many more years to come. After leaving her downy king-sized bed, Platinum wandered over to her dressing table and stared in the mirror. She was thirty-three now, and already the wrinkles of age were beginning to pull at her brow and gaunt her cheeks. Bags hung under her eyes, and without the powder to sharpen her well-defined beauty, even her face was starting to lose the luster of its youth. Every morning, Platinum knew, she’d look in that mirror and lose a little bit more of herself. There was no denying it; Equestria’s queen was growing old.

She knew she still was beautiful; those very, very slight lines and wrinkles under the ivory fur of her face made her appear wise, not wizened. She was thin, slim, and trim, and when she walked her hips still moved with a flowing grace and daring that everypony expected of younger mares. She knew how to talk, how to flirt, and how to seduce, and there was no shortage of suitors at her door. But now the variety was dying, with the same young noble stallions trying to court her month after month. There was no love, no passion, no fire. And the real stallions, the ones she wanted, the ones who were adventurous and smooth and caring gentlemen, were few and far between.

In the reflection of the mirror, Platinum could see her bed. It was much larger than she needed it to be; it was designed to host two ponies in all the luxury and comfort they could need. But Platinum only ever used the one half of it, and she always slept facing the other half, hooves outstretched as if she was trying to find something, somepony to hold onto. Across from her, nestled in the corner of the room, was a small crib, the blankets gently folded and laid out with care, a few toys left exactly as they were all those months ago. A mobile with a trio of pegasi, earth ponies, and unicorns dancing in happy circles overhead creaked with the slight breeze through the window.

And then Equestria’s monarch moved onto the next step of her daily routine, one she’d only started a few months ago. Bowing her head, she buried her face in the soft fur of her forelegs and wept until she simply couldn’t cry anymore.

It took ten minutes to cry herself dry, and then ten minutes more to recompose herself. Sniffling, she grabbed a handkerchief with her magic and blew her nose, then folded it up and dried her eyes. That was why she always washed her powder and makeup off the night before, for otherwise it’d turn to the consistency of clay and cake to the fur on her face. Once she finally got her shaky breathing under control again, she found a comb and began to straighten her hair.

This step was always the most therapeutic for Platinum, which was why she took care of it herself rather than having one of her handmaidens do it for her. With each stroke of the brush, it was as if she pulled one of the previous day’s worries and problems out of her life. Both her mane and tail received the same treatment until they were dead straight with just a little wavy curl at the ends.

A knock on the door followed exactly three minutes later, just as Platinum expected it, and she opened the door to let a filly wearing a pressed and embroidered white gown enter the room. The little unicorn filly set a cup of tea in front of Platinum as she simultaneously levitated a hot curling iron to Platinum’s mane with her pink Arcana. Her rose hooves massaged the queen’s neck while her magic worked the iron and Platinum’s hair back into their usual curls, while her long, yellow mane tickled the queen’s shoulders.

“Are we having a good morning, your highness?” the filly asked as she worked through Platinum’s curls. Platinum caught her eyes watching her face in the mirror, but the filly blushed and looked away as soon as she did. She was still a timid handmaiden, but Platinum liked her because she genuinely cared about how Platinum was doing—and was courteous enough to not press into matters that she had no business in.

“Yes, Dahlia,” Platinum answered. Her voice still bore an edge of weariness, and she only stared into the eyes of her own reflection as she talked. She knew that Dahlia knew she was lying, and Dahlia knew that Platinum was aware of it, but rather than confront one another over the matter, the two unicorns were content to perpetuate the lie.

The handmaiden continued curling Platinum’s mane for a little bit. “I heard one of the guards saying that Commander Hurricane had returned.”

Platinum raised an eyebrow. “Really?” Seeing Dahlia nod in the mirror, she sighed. “Hopefully he’ll have some good news on whatever he was off searching for. It seems like the rest of us can’t get through a single year without him going on some insane solitary mission.”

“He also said the Commander sent word that he was bringing guests, and that they would be staying in the north tower for the time being,” Dahlia added. Her eyes briefly flickered over Platinum’s reflection. “They mentioned your name too.”

“I would imagine. If Hurricane’s bringing guests through the north tower, they’re obviously important, and thus I’m obligated to meet them out of courtesy.” Platinum shook her head, causing Dahlia to bite her lip and carefully twist her grip on the curling iron so it wouldn’t scald her queen. “At least it’ll be better than having another private meeting with the Chancellor. I’ve half a mind to send him off hunting one of these days.”

The filly raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that, milady?”

“Oh, no reason,” she said, waving a hoof. “Hopefully it’ll be a fun time for him; safe and accident-free.”

“Of course, milady,” Dahlia murmured. Platinum winced as the nervous handmaiden accidentally tore out a strand of her mane as she furiously tried to curl it. Closing her eyes, the queen took a deep breath, counted to three, and released it. She didn’t want to give herself any reason to snap at her favorite handmaiden.

“So,” Platinum began after a brief moment of silence, “Who’s this guard I’m always hearing about?”

Dahlia blinked. “Your highness?”

Platinum smiled faintly. “I know you’re blushing under that pink coat of yours, darling. I’m just a curious mare looking out for her handmaidens. Who’s the lucky stallion?”

The pink unicorn looked away, but Platinum could still see the hint of a euphoric smile at the corners of her lips. “Brass Wing, your highness.”

“Ah. A pegasus, then?” Platinum asked.

“Yes, milady.”

“Young?”

Dahlia nodded.

“Handsome?”

The handmaiden nodded again, this time a bit more feverishly.

“Good for you,” Platinum said, nodding once. Shifting on her seat, she twisted her hips so she was resting on one flank so Dahlia could begin curling her tail. “You know, when I was your age, a unicorn and a pegasus loving one another was quite the taboo.”

Dahlia raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Platinum smiled, actually thankful that her handmaiden had forgotten to address her properly for once. “Oh, yes. Why, for the longest time, us unicorns considered the pegasi nothing more than tools, machines of war that we could direct against the Crystal Barbarians. Sure, their militant leader, Hurricane proved difficult to control, but the Court of Nobles believed that we could tame him in time.” She shook her head. “Of course, by the time of the Eternal Blizzard, Hurricane had his pegasus legions deployed across the entire countryside, and we learned then that Cirra was the one with the power and means necessary to run the Diamond Kingdom, not the other way around. But the fact that he didn’t taught us a lot… even if his son and heir burnt half of River Rock to the ground and murdered my father when we were suffocating in snow and ice and at our weakest.”

“I remember…” Dahlia murmured.

The monarch nodded. “Yes, you were old enough then, weren’t you?”

“Yes. I was eleven, milady. I remember mother telling me to hide in the castle kitchen when it happened.” She shook her head. “I’m just glad that Cyclone’s Fallen Legion never made it to that part of the castle.”

Platinum raised an eyebrow. “Oh? They have a name for the Cirrans that fought for him, now?” She chuckled softly. “I wasn’t aware.”

“It’s only been going around recently,” Dahlia said. “With the riots and everything happening every few weeks, Brass Wing and the other guards are talking about how some of the older soldiers are drinking to Cyclone and the Fallen Legion when they think they’re by themselves.” The handmaiden examined the last bit of Platinum’s uncurled tail and bit her lip. “Could you please lean forward a bit, milady?”

Platinum complied, but she wasn’t really paying attention to Dahlia anymore. Again? This was happening again? But why? Everypony who was in the Legion remembered what had happened during Cyclone’s rebellion. So why would they try again? Could it be that Equestria was really failing that badly, and the constant rioting was starting to wear away on the minds of the ponies tasked with defending it?

It made sense to Platinum, at least more than the madness that had driven Cyclone to try and seize River Rock five years ago. She, Hurricane, and Puddinghead had tried to tie their nations together into one large state without the consent of their subjects. Granted, it worked initially because of their subjects’ faith in their authority, but in five years there really wasn’t much to show for it other than two large cities, an expensive castle, and a handful of colonies both inland and overseas. The economy was faltering so terribly that many of Equestria’s smaller towns like Danzig and Lubuck had split off into some economic league of theirs called the Horseatic League. Even though they were technically part of the Equestrian kingdom, they had far more autonomy than Platinum liked. Perhaps it could be that Hansa’s independence was an example spurring the secessionist cries and riots rather than being simply a symptom of them?

Still, she had warning now, and with Hurricane back at the castle, she’d be able to discuss her concerns with him, hopefully before matters got out of hoof. The last thing she needed was to follow in the hoofsteps of her father; or at the very least avoid his tragic end.

“There you are, your highness,” Dahlia said, stepping away with a satisfied smile. “I hope it’s to your liking.”

The comment forced Platinum to shake her head clear of thoughts of Legion conspiracies. She gave her appearance a quick glance in the mirror and nodded. Everything was curled perfectly, and she was already a far cry from the tired mare that had crawled out of bed earlier that morning. “Of course, Dahlia. Excellent as always.”

Smiling, the filly motioned for Platinum to hold still while she applied her makeup, powder, and perfume. It was finished in a few minutes; Dahlia had become an expert in applying the queen’s makeup, and the process didn’t afford Platinum a lot of room to talk or converse while she was being beautified. When it was finished, Platinum nodded again, and with her magic, procured a gold bit from a bag near her bed and pressed it against Dahlia’s chest.

“Don’t spend it all in one place,” Platinum advised her as the filly stared at the shiny coin.

“Oh, thank you, your highness!” Dahlia exclaimed, holding the bit in her hooves. “You’re too kind.”

Platinum shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, darling. Now run along; I won’t be needing your assistance again until later tonight, and it’s a lovely day outside.”

Dahlia barely spared the time to curtsy before trotting out the door, happily singing to herself. Platinum smiled softly as she went. It was only a single gold bit, just good enough to buy a nice meal, but it was probably more than the filly’d had in her possession for quite some time.

Pushing back her chair, Platinum stood up and trotted to the large wardrobe built into the wall of her room. Inside, she pulled her royal dressings off of the mannequin and gently draped them across her body, securing the hidden straps and loops to her neck and shoulders so the garments wouldn’t fall off as she walked. Her magic reached out and took hold of the polished gold and diamond crown she’d grown so accustomed to wearing for the past five years, ever since it’d moved from her father’s head to hers. It was a heavy thing and sometimes irritated her horn to no end, but she bore under its weight as was expected of her, a symbol of Equestria’s strength and the very representation of its face. She was Equestria, and she needed to look strong and regal. After all, if there was anything she’d learned from private talks with Commander Hurricane in the years they’d worked together, it was that appearances can mean so much more than even a legion’s worth of soldiers.

Dressed up and made-up, Platinum looked every bit like the queen of Equestria she was. Still, before she left her room to begin her day, she walked in front of her mirror and reached out with her magic. A small heart-shaped locket made out of gold lifted off of the corner of the mirror, its golden chains twinkling in the light blue aura of Platinum’s Arcana. A squeeze of the latches popped it open, and Platinum sighed as she looked at the small portraits within.

There were two small paintings inside. In the left half of the heart was a portrait of her husband, Gilded Line, his eyes bright and smiling with that careless charm of his that had first drawn Platinum to him. He’d chosen to not have his portrait painted in his royal garments and in a formal setting; instead, the jasmine unicorn stood in the fields to the east of Everfree, dressed in casual attire with a novel tucked against his breast. Behind him were the blurry grays and browns of an Everfree still being built. It’d been four years since Platinum had that portrait made, but to the mare it felt like a lifetime ago.

The other half of the locket contained a simple picture of the queen’s only child, Platinum II. The little filly had inherited her mother’s silvery coat and her father’s white mane, giving her a curious appearance, like a charcoal sketch or a portrait half finished. The only real color to the filly were her eyes, a deep and lustrous blue like the purest of sapphires. She was sitting on Platinum’s bed, eyes wide and staring at the artist as her portrait was taken. Platinum laughed a sad laugh as she remembered how hard it was to get the foal to sit still long enough for her portrait to be finished.

Closing the locket, she held it against her breast and shut her eyes, taking deep, long breaths. Every time she opened the necklace she wanted to cry, but she never wanted to forget, either. Those portraits were the only pictures she had left of her family that she could carry with her wherever she went. While remembering hurt, it also gave her the strength to continue, day in and day out. She would never, never disappoint her husband and daughter by letting the grief consume her as it once nearly had shortly after their deaths.

Her hoof rubbed her neck at the memory, and she shuddered as she opened the door and left her chambers behind.

The castle was eerily quiet this early in the morning. With the break of day outside the window, the legionaries were in the middle of changing guard. Little was spoken between the groups of soldiers as they traded off, and they only paused long enough to bow to Platinum as she passed before moving on to their posts or gaining some much needed sleep. Still, save for the clop of her hooves against the stone floor and the soft hiss of her dress as the train slid after her, there was hardly a noise stirring within.

At least until Platinum reached the north tower, that was. Her ears flickered, and Platinum could catch the sounds of muted conversation behind the heavy oak doors separating the tower from the rest of the castle. Pausing just outside, Platinum picked out Commander Hurricane’s slow and gruff voice giving a brief history of Everfree City. But there were two voices she didn’t recognize. Two mares, both speaking with intelligence and authority, would stop Hurricane every so often to ask a question or leave a comment on the history of the city, the Compact Lands, or the situation in Equestria.

Platinum blinked. Just who could Hurricane have brought back?

Deciding to find out, Platinum rapped thrice on the door before pushing it open. “Commander Hurricane,” she began even before she entered the room, “how wonderful for you to have rejoined us. Not only did you leave without notifying Puddinghead and I, but you left me to have to deal with his nonsense all by my lonesome. And just who did you bring back with… you…”

Her voice trailed off as she rounded the massive door and finally took in the scene before her. Hurricane was seated at the middle of the round table that covered the majority of the north tower’s floor with his helmet resting on the wood in front of him. On either side of the pegasus were two of the largest ponies Platinum had only seen. Not only that, but the two mares owned both wings and horns. Even more astonishing to the queen were the icons each mare bore on her flanks: the sun on one, and the moon on the other.

“Sun and Stars,” Platinum whispered. “Is it…” She looked to Hurricane, her eyes filled with disbelief. “You couldn’t have…”

“Hello, my little pony,” the taller white alicorn greeted. Her voice was soft and motherly, and she fixed Platinum with a gaze of the purest benevolence. “Do not fear, for my sister and I mean you no harm. Please, come closer.”

Platinum walked forward in a daze. Her mind was reeling and her knees felt weak. Once she was fully inside the room, the younger, darker alicorn shut the door behind her with Arcana the color of midnight. Unlike her sister, she said nothing, only fixing Platinum with a deep and scrutinizing stare.

“Are… are you really… them?” Platinum asked. Her voice wavered, and if the room wasn’t perfectly quiet it wouldn’t have been heard.

The white alicorn nodded. “Yes. Hurricane has already told us how we’re revered by your three races of ponies, unicorns and earth ponies especially.”

“Celestis,” Platinum murmured. “Lunis.” Her eyes widened, and she immediately knelt before the two alicorns. “Forgive me, goddesses, for I doubted you.”

Hurricane’s grunt surprised Platinum. “Stand up,” he ordered. “They hate it when you do that.”

“Supposedly,” the darker alicorn muttered.

Blinking, Platinum rose back to her hooves, yet she still maintained an awkward distance from the two alicorns. Hurricane nodded and motioned for her to sit with his wing. As Platinum made her way to a chair, the pegasus commander continued. “Their names are Celestia and Luna,” he said, gesturing to each alicorn in turn, “and I already did the whole ‘praise be upon you’ thing when I met them. I’m sure they’d rather avoid the song-and-dance routine again.”

“And you must be Queen Platinum, First of her Name,” Celestia said. Then, to Platinum’s disbelief, the white alicorn bowed to her. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Luna said from where she sat across the table. “Hurricane has spoken much about you and Equestria. It made for excellent conversation on the flight back.” Squinting, she leaned forward and bored into Platinum’s eyes. “You remind me of your father.”

“My father?” Platinum asked, agape. “How did you know him? If you pardon my asking,” she hastily added.

Luna waved it off with a wing. “Discard the formalities, Platinum, and we’ll both spend less time dancing around the point.” At Platinum’s small nod, she continued. “I visited your father many times in the dreamscape to soothe his pain. He could not sleep well with the Scourge, and would often wake in agony. I never spoke with him, but his dreams were… pleasant.” The alicorn paused, as if double checking that was the correct word, before giving a single nod and continuing. “He was not a stallion that needed comforting like so many others do. If even a sliver of his spark was passed onto you, child, then you are destined for great things.”

Platinum smiled weakly. “Please… Luna, you’re far too kind.” Then she turned to Hurricane. “Why did you bring them here? Their presence is a blessing in itself, but how did you even find them? Or get them to agree to leave their sacred home?”

“I found them because I wasn’t looking for them,” Hurricane said, his voice simple and straightforward. “I was searching for something else that was stolen by one of Luna’s servants, and I happened to track it back to their home. But that isn’t important now. What is important, Platinum, is that they’re here now and that they can help us.”

“Help us?” Platinum echoed. Her eyes widened and realization, and she nearly squealed. “You’re going to help us with the riots? Oh, Sun and Stars, this is a miracle!”

“Hurricane managed to convince us that our intervention was the only thing that could save Equestria,” Celestia said. With a sad sigh, her eyes seemed to fixate on some point far in the past. “My sister and I have been dreaming of a union of ponykind such as this for millennia, but never has it happened before. Your races were always fighting each other and segregating themselves. Now, three out of the four are here in one union, and the fourth has founded their own Union to the north. And to hear now that this unity is threatened…” she shook her head. “We couldn’t stand by and let things fall apart once again. So my sister and I decided to travel with the Commander to Everfree City and hope that our presence is enough to stabilize the nation and put an end to the riots.”

“I believe it will work,” Hurricane added. He spun his helmet in his hooves, staring into the frame. “It’s the only option we have left short of military force and martial law. Even a Cirran such as myself knows that you can’t run a nation with a heavy-hoofed military. And at this point, another show of force is going to break the careful balance we’ve struggled to maintain in the face of these riots and open the floodgates of hatred and revolutionary fervor.”

Celestia nodded. “That is why my sister and I intend on speaking at an assembly in the town square today to let the citizens of Everfree know of our arrival,” she said, turning to Platinum. “That should be a start.”

But the gears in Platinum’s mind were already whirring, and she fervently shook her head, her coiled mane flouncing on either side of her neck. “No no no, that won’t do at all.”

Luna furrowed her brow. “Pardon?”

“A simple public speech? Really?” Platinum shook her head in disbelief. “That’s much too dull and bland. That sounds like something Hurricane would come up with.”

Hurricane frowned at her, but Celestia shared an apologetic look with the pegasus. “Well… you’re not wrong.”

“I thought as much,” Platinum said. Then, looking directly at Hurricane, she nodded once. “Fetch Puddinghead and Star Swirl. We’ll need their help—especially the Chancellor’s.”

Cloudsdale had certainly changed in five years. While it was still the heart of Cirra and garrisoned tens of thousands of soldiers at any given time, something had changed since Commander Hurricane ceased to live in its lofty clouds. The air felt calm, quiet—yet, it felt like it was waiting for something. Waiting for the day when its commander would return to it.

Of course, Pan Sea knew that it would never happen. He flew by the old palace, with ‘old’ being something of a misnomer as the building was hardly twenty years old, even if it was modeled inch for inch off of that legendary building that fell in Stratopolis. The clouds were quiet, much unlike how they’d been what felt like a lifetime ago. Since Cirra’s Commander Maximus had gone to the ground, it’d become the headquarters of the Praetorian Council, the Legion’s governing body, and a tourist attraction for those who wanted to fly through Hurricane’s old residence.

The Council would’ve yielded to Hurricane’s request to retake residency there, if the commander had ever made such a request, but Pan Sea knew the real reason why Hurricane wanted nothing to do with Cloudsdale anymore. Too many ghosts and too many memories haunted him in those halls. At least in Everfree he was safe from those torments, even if the price Hurricane had to pay was living in a city that half despised and half adored him. Riots and rebels the commander could crush and kill; the ghosts of the past, not so much.

Leaving the monument to Cirra’s glory behind, Pan Sea glided into the wealthier portion of the city. Here, cloudstone buildings three or four stories tall lined paved cloud roads, with each building decorated in its own unique arrangement of colors, the colors matching the crest of each family that resided within. Most of these houses belonged to senators and their families; while those pegasi might spend more time in Everfree than in Cloudsdale as a result of their profession, it was still unthinkable for a senator to lack a house in the city. Somewhere in these streets Twister maintained her own large home, designed by the mare herself and paid for with her own wealth.

None of those thoughts were on Pan Sea’s mind as he singled out his destination: a large, spacious house with airy balconies on each side and a flat landing space on the roof traditional of pegasus homes. The ionic columns supporting the upper levels of the residence were all decorated in a white and red motif, with a merchant’s coat of arms emblazoned across the banners. Stained glass windows, again in red, white, and gold, added some flair to the exterior of the building, and a small flower garden on the roof completed the picturesque image.

Fluttering his wings, Pan Sea braked and descended to the front door of the house, landing on three hooves while the fourth sheltered a bouquet of flowers against his side. Approaching the door, he checked his appearance in the reflections in its glass and made sure he looked absolutely proper. His mane was groomed and combed, his wings were freshly preened, and the armor he wore would have passed as a mirror. Clearing his throat, he flicked a bell hanging beside the door with a wing and straightened his posture.

It took all of three seconds before the door opened. There in the frame stood a petite mare, her face filled with elation and brimming with joy. With a happy squeal, she fluttered out of the doorway and flung her forelegs around Pan Sea’s shoulders, nearly crushing the bouquet he held at his side. Pan Sea laughed and wrapped his wings around hers, and the two of them shared a tight and loving embrace.

“Pan Sea!” the mare finally gasped as she separated herself from the centurion’s embrace. Her eyes widened with happiness, and she gently took the bouquet the stallion offered her. Pressing the flowers to her nose, she closed her eyes and inhaled their fragrance, her wings twitching at her sides. “Mmmmm, these are beautiful! Thank you!”

Pan Sea smiled and kissed the mare on the cheek. “Fresh picked from the riverside this morning,” he said. His lips twitched as the snowy mare held the pink and yellow flowers against her chest, her soft and downy wings peaking higher against her sides at the emotion flowing through her. “I know you only deserve the best, Feather.”

“You’re too sweet,” Soft Feather teased, caressing his cheek with a hoof. Breaking the contact, she quickly retreated into her house to put the flowers in a vase before stepping back outside and shutting the door. Her green eyes traced over Pan Sea’s polished armor, and a white hoof teased her pink and lavender mane away as she shielded her eyes. “Gods, your armor’s bright today. How long’d you spend on that?”

The centurion shrugged. “An hour, maybe more.” In reality, he’d spent the better part of the night before polishing it to a perfect sheen. Offering his hoof, he led his fiancée down the steps of her house. “I just wanted to look my best for you.”

“You always look your best for me,” the mare said, taking stride immediately next to Pan Sea so their wings brushed as they walked.

Pan Sea chuckled. “It comes with the career, I suppose. Everypony in the Legion always looks their best, even when we’re fighting in the mud for our loved ones in the skies.”

Soft Feather leaned her neck against Pan Sea’s. “At least your fighting days are over. I’d be heartbroken if somepony took you from me.”

The centurion winced as Feather’s comment reminded him of the limp in his leg he’d grown used to by now. “I’m glad they’re behind me too,” he said, “but I’d be lying if I said they weren’t some of the best years of my life.”

Feather nodded. “Ante Legionem nihil erat…”

“Et nihil erit post Legionem,” Pan Sea finished. “Once in the Legion, always in the Legion. But that doesn’t mean I could never find room for you in my life.” His wing traced Soft Feather’s jawline, making the petite mare blush and smile. “You’re my other half.”

“Oh, save the sappy love talk for the bedroom,” Feather scolded him, giggling. “I haven’t been able to see you lately with everything you’ve been doing on the surface. Let’s just have a nice lunch in the capital and enjoy the day, hmm?”

Pan Sea smiled and nuzzled her cheek. “Sounds good. There’s a nice place down by the river that Twister says is worth checking out.”

Soft Feather laughed. “Any place Twister recommends usually has a steep price tag attached to it. You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Pan Sea assured her. “The food’s great and the view’s worth it.”

“Well, if you’re so eager to blow your centurion’s pay,” his fiancée teased, stretching her wings and taking flight. “Shall we?”

“After you.”

The two pegasi rose above the cloudstone streets of Soft Feather’s neighborhood and flew towards the southwest, where the sparkling blue waters of the Maressissippi passed by Everfree after leaving the Mountain of Dawn. Several trading galleys sailed up and down the waters, the oarsponies working hard to force their way against the current while those heading out to sea simply coasted along and let the winds and current propel them. From up above, Equestria’s capital could easily be split into two parts. On one side was Everfree proper, with the castle built on a small hill and ringed with a moat. Expanding outwards from that central point were the stone houses, shops, and industrial buildings that made up the majority of the city. The town square and its large, commemorative fountain were surrounded by ponies simply enjoying the warmth of a summer’s morning.

Then there was the slums. Just south of the Choke, the stone buildings gave way to wooden shanties, mud, and ash. Unlike the order of the western half of Everfree, the slums were chaotic, disorganized, and unruly—every bit a reflection of the types of ponies that lived there. The Choke itself split the two halves of the city like a clean cut from a gladius, a stretch of empty no-mare’s land kept clean by ranks of legionaries on patrol. A small plume of black smoke rose from a cluster of buildings on the edge of the slums. Pan Sea knew it’d burn itself out in time; small fires like that were common enough.

Soft Feather sighed at Pan Sea’s side, bringing his attention back to his love. Her eyes were closed and her wings were outstretched, simply catching the air currents and gliding down at a steady pace. Pan Sea smiled and mirrored her, making small adjustments to his wings and watching her feathers ripple with the air. Catching a thermal, the two pegasi ascended slightly and readjusted their heading towards the river.

“Enjoying yourself?” Pan Sea asked, touching wingtips with Soft Feather.

The mare smiled and opened her eyes. “Oh, it’s been too long since I last took a leisurely fly like this. I’ve spent too much time inside taking care of father. The doctors claim it’s just a bad case of hay fever, but I’m beginning to wonder.” She shook her head and twisted her wings to catch another rising thermal, which Pan Sea followed. “The medicine we’ve been giving him seems to be working. Thank the gods we can afford it. I just wish that the rest of the family would help out sometimes.”

Pan Sea raised an eyebrow. “You mean they don’t?”

Feather shook her head. “I mean, mom does, but she’s gotten all wrapped up in that Horseatic League stuff in the east. She’s hardly around anymore because of her job. Grandpa raised her to be an investor and a merchant, and by the gods is she cleaning house at there. If it weren’t for her, we’d have run out of money ages ago.”

“What about your cousin?” Pan Sea asked. “I thought you and Winter Storm were real close.”

“Winterspell,” Soft Feather corrected. “And we were until he got that captaining job he always wanted. Ever since then he’s been sailing the east coast between all the little towns there. The last time he was in Everfree or Cloudsdale was almost a year ago.”

Pan Sea shrugged. “Sorry to hear that.”

Soft Feather waved it off. “It’s okay. I know his job’s important to him. I just wish that he’d come and visit every once in a while.”

The yellow stallion nodded sympathetically, but no more words were spoken. The two pegasi were content to glide the last few miles to the riverside in comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s company and companionship. At last, flaring their wings, the Cirrans touched down outside a small, rustic diner that hugged the pebbly banks of the river.

“Here we are,” Pan Sea said, gesturing to the building and holding his right wing open. Smiling, Soft Feather slid over to his side, letting Pan Sea drape his wing across her back. The golden clasp around the base of his right wing flashed in the late morning sun, glinting just as brightly as the clasp Feather wore around her own right wing. Together, the two pegasi made their way to the front door of the restaurant, proudly displaying their engagement rings as they entered.

There was just the perfect crowd in the restaurant, an eatery by the name of The Zephyr that mixed Cirran and Low Valley cuisine into its own style. There were a half dozen tables inside the restaurant itself, but none of those were occupied. Everypony there was on the pier behind the restaurant, dining at the numerous tables outside in the sun. The pier was a repurposed loading dock for the cargo ships that sailed between Everfree and Platinum’s Landing that had been bought out by the restaurant’s owners when the owning merchant’s trade business floundered. Now, trade galleys passed at a distance, giving the patrons something to watch while they ate their meals.

Pan Sea and Soft Feather went straight for the pier, where they found a nice two pony table right against the pier’s railing. Sliding into their seats, the two pegasi turned their attention to the river, where the ships drifted downstream and several colts were attempting to fish off the riverbank. It wasn’t long before a waiter arrived to take their order, but soon he was gone too, leaving the Cirrans alone to their conversations.

Their words wandered from Pan Sea’s career to Soft Feather’s home life and everything in between. They talked about the past, their memories in the old Empire, how the war changed them both. Pan Sea’s journey with Commander Hurricane during the Eternal Blizzard five years ago. What Soft Feather was doing in Cloudsdale as the temperatures plummeted and plummeted and pegasi were dying of starvation and the cold by the dozens. How they first met three years ago during the second annual celebration of Hearth’s Warming and the founding of Equestria. The plans for their upcoming marriage in little less than a year. Life after that, into the quiet sunset of old age, and the eternity awaiting beyond.

Food arrived before them in short order, a mix of seasonal greens grown by the earth pony farmers mixed with a few cutlets of pork and rabbit, a dish that only really entreated the Cirran palette. As they worked their way through the meal, with the slight tugging of the breeze on their manes and the gentle murmurs of the other patrons around them, Soft Feather suddenly frowned. Pan Sea’s eye caught it, and he set aside his fork.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, reaching across the table to touch his fiancée’s hoof. “It’s not to your liking?”

Soft Feather shook her head. “No, the food’s good. I was just thinking, that’s all.” A pause. “What’s the matter with you?”

Pan Sea blinked. “Me? What do you mean?”

“It’s probably nothing, or I’m just paranoid because this is the first time I’ve seen you in a week and I’m worried that it’s going to be over all too quickly.” She sighed, looking towards the water. Her wings twitched uncomfortably at her sides. “You just seem… nervous. Tense.”

The centurion shrugged and stroked her hoof. “I’ve just been busy with a stressful job is all,” he admitted. He too turned to look out across the water, his eyes following a galleass struggling to row its way upstream and into one of the nearby docks. “It’s been tiring and nerve-wracking to say the least.”

That made the worry in Soft Feather’s eyes darken. “What do you mean? It’s not dangerous is it?”

Pan Sea shook his head. “No, no. Not at all. It’s perfectly fine. Twister wanted me to look into some things for her, and they’ve been a little hard to get a look at, so to speak. A lot of searching and sniffing around. That’s it.”

“My father was a senator for thirteen years,” Soft Feather reminded Pan Sea. The corners of her lips upturned the slightest. “I know that anything involving Hurricane’s sister is anything but easy and straightforward.” At Pan Sea’s wary expression, she leaned forward and took the hoof that had been rubbing hers in her own. “Maybe I can help? You know you can trust me with a secret.”

The butter yellow stallion seemed to deliberate on it for a moment. “I really wouldn’t want to put the burden on you. It has to do with Equestria’s future as we know it.”

Soft Feather bent her wing around the table and gently stroked Pan Sea’s side with the tip. “Equestria’s future? My, don’t you have a hefty weight on your shoulders.”

“Tell me about it. It’s hard for a pony to carry it all on three legs.”

“Darling, you could do it on one if you really had to.” She smiled, and Pan Sea smiled with her. “That’s the kind of stallion you are. You’ll do anything for anypony.”

Pan Sea shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it that way. I just try to be helpful.”

“So I want to help you,” Soft Feather said. “I’m sure you’ll love having somepony you could talk to this about and get it off your shoulders. Right now you just seem agitated, and I just want to help you relax.”

“There are other ways of accomplishing that goal,” Pan Sea quipped. He barely ducked under the playful swipe directed at his muzzle.

“Stallions,” Soft Feather muttered, although her face carried a bemused look on it. “Come on, you can tell me.”

“I don’t know. Twister said I couldn’t tell anypony.”

“Do you want me to use The Face?” Soft Feather asked. Already her lips were curling into a pathetic expression, and her ears flattened against her head. “Don’t make me use The Face.”

“Fine!” Pan Sea exclaimed, holding a hoof out to block the mare’s face. “You know I can’t handle that!”

Soft Feather chuckled. “Believe me, I know.”

“Mobius have mercy on my soul,” Pan Sea muttered. Then, reaching into the pocket of his armor, he extracted a small silver brooch. “I’m looking for anypony wearing one of these.”

Feather took it in her hooves. “Oh? Why, what’s important about it?”

“Well, if what Twister told me is correct, the higher-ups in the rebels and rioters like to wear them,” he said. “It’s a variation on a popular design, so it’s hard to really pick out unless you take a long look at it on somepony.” Taking the brooch back, he laid it on the table so he could point out the parts with his hoof. “It’s got the wings, horn, and crown like the Equestria brooch that the senators and lots of the unicorn nobles like to wear, but they’re… distorted.” His hoof traced the jagged and pointy contours of the wings and horn. “Not really something you’d notice at a distance, and something that’d be overlooked when you’re talking with somepony in close quarters, but if you knew to look for it, it’s as clear as day.”

Soft Feather blinked and thought it over. “So you’re trying to find if anypony important is wearing one of these?”

Pan Sea nodded. “Twister thinks that somepony in the government is working with the rebels. Probably some of the younger blood, or the ones with more influence. Hell, it might be some of the senators from that Horseatic League thing in the east that your cousin’s involved in. They certainly seem like they’d profit if the current government collapses and they get some changes in there.”

“Any leads yet?” Soft Feather asked. Taking the brooch in her hooves, she spun it around a few times to get a closer look at it.

“Not yet,” he admitted. “I thought I might have found something with Mayor Greenleaf, but Twister figured it was nothing short of usual unicorn power politics.” He shook his head and chuckled. “I swear, unicorns are born campaigning for office with how they can act.”

Soft Feather shared in his chuckle. “And our senators aren’t?”

“At least in Cirra you usually have to command a legion or something before the rest of us will actually elect you.” He leaned back, and the metal plates of his armor clinked against each other. “You actually have to prove your worth, not just be born into the right family. Although that still helps immensely.”

The mare nodded and passed the brooch back to her fiancé. “As any pegasus who’s sat on the Senate before will tell you,” she added. “I’ll see what I can find around Cloudsdale; I doubt these conspirators you’re looking for are limited to Everfree. They know that if they’re going to have any success overturning Hurricane’s government, they’ll need Hurricane’s soldiers on their side.”

“Yes, well, after Cyclone’s short-lived uprising five years ago, I don’t think there are many soldiers left looking to repeat his fall,” Pan Sea said. “The commander may have executed the officers who were involved in the whole thing, but the legionaries that actually fought for Cyclone stayed with him in River Rock. Hurricane was fine with that; he wasn’t particularly keen on slaughtering thousands of pegasi for treason when the cold would do that for him.”

Soft Feather dipped her head. “I suppose you’re right,” she said. “But I’ll still keep my eye out for them.”

Pan Sea smiled. “Thanks. Just please don’t get yourself in trouble out there.”

The white mare rolled her eyes. “I’m more worried about you, Pan Sea. You’re a soldier, even if you don’t fight anymore, and that’ll draw attention from some ponies. Me? I’m just a mare in her early thirties. Nopony will think twice about me stealing a few glances here and there.”

Pan Sea smiled and rubbed one of her ears, drawing a small grin to Soft Feather’s face. “I suppose, I suppose. Just don’t get in trouble.”

“I could say the same to you. In fact, I am saying the same to you. Don’t get in trouble.”

The centurion rolled his eyes. “I put my life in danger too many times for me to count when I was travelling with Hurricane. This is easy compared to that.”

“Good. Then can we talk about something else? All these conspiracies are making me lose my appetite, and the food’s too good to let it go to waste.”

“Ah, so you do like it.”

“Mmhmm.”

The two Cirrans happily returned to their meal, and once again their conversations wandered into other things. Eventually, they finished their lunch, and after paying the waiter, left their table behind and took to the skies. Twirling about once overhead, they redirected back to Cloudsdale, becoming little more than black specks in the sky, slowly growing fainter and more indistinct against the clouds.

As soon as they were gone, a green unicorn took a slow draw on his glass of water, dropped his bits down on the table, and left without a word.

“Gods, your house is beautiful!”

Marigold’s eyes lit in delight as Finder opened the gate surrounding his and Rain’s house. She, Finder, Rain, and her three children were standing in a semicircle around the gate to the Tuscanter-style home. Yellow walls and stony arches made the majority of the house, and tall, thin trees framed long glass windows skirted with wrought iron rails. The orange stucco of the roof tiles was spotless, and the columns supporting the upper levels of the house were strong, sturdy, and beautifully detailed. On the second level, the windows were all slightly opened to let in the breeze, and two tall trees rising from behind the house swayed in the wind.

“Thank you,” Finder said as he ushered them inside the gate. “My friend from the Red Cloud War is an architect; he made the house for my wife and I when we all settled down in Everfree. It’s nothing like a home in Cloudsdale, but Rain insisted on staying close to the center of the action. So, here we are.”

Marigold’s two foals that could walk scampered on ahead, oohing and ahing to themselves as they rushed towards the door. For a moment, their abandonment of their house in the slums and the misfortunes of the night before were forgotten in a moment of wonder. Marigold followed behind, the two year old filly resting on her back, asleep. Rain kept pace with the merchant while Finder relocked the gate and took up the rear.

“I think I’ve walked past this place dozens of times, but I never thought I’d meet the ponies that owned it,” Marigold continued, her eyes sweeping up and down the masonry.

Iron Rain raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

The merchant nodded. “Yeah. I’d make it a point to take a walk around the… cleaner parts of Everfree whenever I could get away from the slums. The change in scenery was always nice.” Flicking her tail, she bent over to inspect the flower garden growing alongside the cobblestone path leading to the house. “Of course, that was before the Legion established the Choke and segregated the two halves of our city, and I really couldn’t leave my reality behind then.”

Finder was sure he saw Rain’s ears flick in embarrassment as they ascended the steps to the front door of their house. She was, after all, the pony in charge of organizing the large majority of the Choke’s patrols and policies.

“Well, we didn’t have much of a choice,” Rain said, rubbing a hoof behind her mane. “The orders came down from the top, and I had to make sure that they were followed. Such is the soldier’s life.” Shaking her head, she paused to let Marigold enter the house first. “In the meantime, just relax and take it easy around here until the heat’s cooled off, at least. The rebels have to know that you survived by now, and they’ll be looking for you to tie up loose ends. Frankly speaking, you know too much.”

Marigold’s steps faltered, and she put on a weak smile. “Yes, well, I don’t intend on heading far from your house any time soon. Thank you again for letting us stay here.”

“Not a problem,” Finder said as he caught up with her and his wife, entering the house with them. “After all, we went through all that effort to save your life, and it’d be a waste for you to just throw it away again.” He smiled, making Marigold chuckle a little.

“Thanks,” she said. “I don’t know what we would’ve done without you two.”

“Probably died,” Rain muttered. Finder kicked her with a rear hoof.

Marigold didn’t seem to notice; she was too preoccupied with trying to keep her children from touching everything in the house. As she herded them back towards the foyer with her wings, she asked the soldiers, “So, where can we stay?”

Rain gestured with a wing to the staircase. “You can have Gray’s room for now. We’ll move him in to our room for the time being; we don’t really have any extra bedrooms. It’s upstairs, first door on your left.”

“Oh, thank you,” Marigold said yet again. Turning toward her kids, she led them to the stairs. “Your children won’t mind?”

“You won’t hear a peep from them,” Finder said, flexing his wings. “I’ll make sure of that.”

Rain rolled her eyes. “Right, because you’re the stricter of the two of us.”

“I know how to manipulate our children. It comes with being a parent.”

“And I’m a legate, so I know more about—”

“Mom?” A voice interrupted from the top of the staircase. “Dad? Who are these ponies and why are they taking Gray’s room?”

Everypony present on the ground floor craned their necks towards the railing at the top of the staircase. Standing there were a trio of Cirran youths, watching the newcomers with a wary unease. In the middle of the three was the filly that had spoken, with a white coat and a sandy blonde mane framing golden eyes. At her right was a slightly younger filly with a teal coat, sapphiric eyes, and a curious stare. That expression was almost mirrored to the letter by the colt on the central filly’s left, with his gray coat and blonde mane. His eyes were a little more calculating and frighteningly penetrating for a colt no older than ten or eleven.

Finder smiled at them. “There you kids are. Come on down. We have guests.”

Reluctantly, the three youths left the bannister and fluttered down in front of Marigold and her children. The young ponies present stole glances at each other while pretending not to notice one another, and Finder chuckled. Raising a wing, he pointed at each of his three children in turn. “This is our oldest, Shimmer.” Shimmer returned a curt nod, making Marigold blink. The filly was definitely her mother’s daughter.

“The blue beauty’s Zephyr,” Finder continued, pointing at the bouncy teal filly. “She’s thirteen and the life of any party. Gray Rain’s our youngest; he’s eleven.”

“He has an officer’s eyes,” Rain added, smiling. “They all have their sights set on joining the Legion when they’re old enough.”

“Not surprising, given their parents,” Marigold quipped. Stepping back, she scooted her two older children forward. “It’s nice to meet you three,” she said to Finder and Rain’s children. “This is Lavender, and this is Aspen,” she said, patting her pegasus daughter and unicorn son in turn. “The little girl on my shoulders is Lily.”

Zephyr bounced a little closer to the new children. “Hey! It’s nice to meet you! Is your mom friends with our mom?”

Lavender nodded. “Yeah. They saved us last night from some really mean ponies that were trying to hurt mommy.” She frowned in worry at her mother, but brightened when she saw Zephyr’s happy smile. “But we’re all okay now thanks to them!”

“Is that why you guys are so beat up?” Shimmer asked, quietly. Finder and Rain exchanged worried looks; they both still wore traces of dried blood, and Rain’s wing was held limply at her side with the hole burnt through it clearly showing. Sighing, Rain nodded to her daughter.

“Yes, honey,” she said. “Daddy and I had a good fight last night. But we’re both safe and okay.”

Shimmer nodded once. “Did you kill them?”

The question took Marigold back, and even Finder seemed a bit surprised. “Why… yes, darling,” Finder said. “We didn’t really have a choice.”

Again, Shimmer gave them a curt nod. “Good.”

A tense silence filled the air, but it was soon broken by Zephyr bounding between them all. “Hey, you guys wanna check out the pond behind the house? We’ve got these huge fish that’ll just let you touch them with your hooves if you’re friendly enough!”

Lavender’s and Aspen’s eyes lit up, and they nodded vigorously. Giggling, Zephyr led them off through the house, launching on a whole diatribe about the pond and the types of fish they had in it. Gray followed them wordlessly; the colt hadn’t spoken a single word yet, but it was pretty clear he was studying the newcomers closely. Shimmer waited, looking back at her parents, before Rain shooed her off with her wing.

Finder shook his head when all the kids were gone. “Sorry about that. Shimmer’s just a smaller version of her mother, and neither of us know what Gray’s thinking half the time.” Chuckling, he added, “I showed him how to play chess when he was six. After playing three games he understood it perfectly. Coincidentally, that’s the same time I stopped considering myself good at chess.”

Marigold raised an eyebrow. “But he doesn’t have his mark yet?”

“Not in chess,” Rain said, shaking her head. “He’s good at strategy, not just chess itself. And when he sits there just looking at you, it’s like he’s picking you apart, piece by piece, and figuring out exactly what makes you tick.” She laughed. “If he doesn’t end up being a praetorian commander someday, I’ll be damned surprised.”

“Give him a few days and he’ll know what your kids are planning on doing before they know themselves,” Finder added. Gesturing to the staircase, he nodded to the sleeping Lilac on Marigold’s back. “First room on the left is Gray’s; you can rest Lilac on the bed if you like. We need to get moving.”

Marigold’s brow jumped in alarm. “Need to get moving? What for? We just got here!”

Finder checked his tone and smiled at the mare. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just anxious to get moving on these tunnels underneath Everfree. The longer we wait, the more danger Typhoon’s in.” He shuddered. “I don’t even want to imagine what they’ve been doing to her to try to get her to talk.”

The merchant bit her lip, but eventually she sighed and nodded. “Okay, I’ll show you guys over quick. There’s an access point about a five minute’s flight from here. Then I’m going to lay low with my children for the next week.” She glanced at Lilac sleeping peacefully on her shoulders. “Just let me put my little one down, okay?”

Rain nodded. “I’ll go tell the kids that we’re leaving, and for Shimmer to look after them all for us.”

“Are you sure she can handle them?” Marigold asked. “Will she listen?”

Finder chuckled. “Marigold, this is a Legion household. Shimmer’s more disciplined than a Low Valley minutemare. She’ll do just fine.”

It made Marigold’s shoulders relax slightly, even if it didn’t make her sigh in relief. “Okay,” she said, turning towards the stairs. “I trust you know your kids best.”

Ten minutes later, the three pegasi were trotting west out of Everfree before making a turn north for the river. Iron Rain couldn’t fly with the hole burnt through her wing, and Finder didn’t want to reopen his wound, so they were forced to take a leisurely pace along the dirt and cobblestone streets. Marigold kept glancing over her shoulders, certain that somepony was following her. She’d insisted on heading west out of the city to leave as soon as possible and taking an indirect route to the caves to minimize her chances of being seen by somepony tied with the rebels.

As they were nearing the edge of town, Marigold suddenly piped up. “Shimmer surprised me.”

Finder looked over his shoulder at the mare. “Really? What do you mean?”

“I just…” Marigold shrugged. “I wasn’t expecting anything like that. She isn’t like most children.”

Rain shook her head. “No. She isn’t. And there’s a reason for it.” Ice began forming along the edges of her wings, catching Marigold by surprise. Rain glanced over her shoulder for half a second, but in that second Marigold saw the tears glistening in her eyes. Turning away, the mare choked out, “Sorry… excuse me,” and trotted off ahead.

Marigold looked to where Finder silently strode, biting his lip. “Sorry,” she whispered, “I didn’t know…”

Finder shook his head. “It’s okay, Marigold. It’s just… tough on Rain and I.” Sighing, he angled his gaze up towards the skies. “Shimmer used to be a very happy child, like Zephyr. I think both her and Zephyr took after our oldest, Sky. She was so full of optimism, and Rain loved her more than she loved anything else in the world. More than she loved me, even,” he added with a melancholy smile. But there he stopped, and walked in silence for several seconds more.

Marigold knew why. “I’m sorry… When did she pass?”

“Five years ago,” Finder answered, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper. “During the Blizzard. She got sick. Really sick. Our medic friend smuggled medicine for her as best she could, but… well, there was nothing we could do.” Blinking several times, probably to keep the tears out of his eyes, the old stallion looked away. “She passed in her mother’s arms. ‘Mommy… I’m not cold anymore.’ Those were her last words. Then we lost her.”

“Gods,” Marigold whispered, holding a hoof to her mouth. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry…”

“Time heals all wounds, but some scar badly,” Finder said. “When we lost Sky, it broke Shimmer. Her happiness was gone. She wasn’t the bright and happy filly we once knew. And the worst part is that I think it’s because she wanted to be strong for her sister and brother.”

Marigold looked at Finder, but she couldn’t see anything under the mask he wore over his face. “Why’s that the worst part?”

“Rain and I, we...we always promised we’d protect them… keep them safe, you know?” Finder looked to Marigold with a frail, trembling smile. “We couldn’t protect Sky. We couldn’t save Shimmer’s big sister. And because of that, Shimmer lost her faith in us, that trust that kids have that tells them ‘mommy and daddy will protect me’. She had to learn at nine years old that we couldn’t protect her from everything..” Finder sighed, but it was perforated with small shudders. “She’s matured far faster than she should have. Faster than we ever wanted her to. She tried to become so strong so fast…”

He sighed, and looked to where Rain was walking ahead of them, leaving a frosty trail in her wake. “She’ll make a good soldier some day.”

Eventually, Rain dropped back to let the two of them catch up. She was still a little shaken, but she’d pulled her legate’s helmet down over her brow to shadow her eyes. “How far are we?” she asked. Her voice was cold and oddly neutral; Marigold knew how much she was struggling to keep that façade.

“Just a few more minutes,” Marigold assured her. Holding out her wing, she swung a right towards the river. “There’s an embankment with a copse of trees on it. In the center of those trees, there’s a boulder covering a tunnel. It leads under the city.”

Finder raised an eyebrow. “And how are we going to avoid bumping noses with any rebels that might happen to be there?”

“It’s not used by the rebels,” Marigold said. “It’s too far and out of the way. They’d use one on either the east or south ends of town if they wanted to get out of the city limits to do something; there’s nothing in the northwest. Besides, there’s already one they use in the west which leads directly into the forest. It’s more secluded there; less of a chance for them to be seen on the way in or out.” She shook her head. “You won’t run into any trouble with this one. As for the rest of the tunnels, if you keep your heads down, you should be okay.”

“Okay,” Finder said. “Keeping my head down is something I’m good at. I haven’t survived being a scout for this long without learning how.” He looked at Rain and smiled. “My wife, on the other hoof…”

Rain snorted. “All I’m offering them is a fair fight. The world would be such a better place if we solved our problems one on one.”

Finder rolled his eyes. “Nimbans,” he muttered.

Marigold’s ears flicked. “Well, some of us are less suited to dueling than others.”

Rain shrugged. “Then get better,” she suggested.

“Like it works that way.”

“You’d be surprised.”

Shaking her head, Marigold led them across the clearing towards the river flowing to the north. As they got closer to the water, Finder noticed a small group of trees standing a short ways away from the green backdrop of the lush forest to the west and across the river. Fluttering forward the last few steps, Marigold wound her way between the trees and came to rest on top of a modestly sized boulder in their center.

“Here we are,” she proclaimed as Finder and Rain weaved through the undergrowth and thick brush. Hopping up and down on the stone, her hooves made solid clicks with each bounce. “I’ve used this tunnel a few times myself to get in and out of the caves. The rock will move with a solid shove; just cover it up when you go in on the off chance somepony happens to find it.”

Iron Rain planted her hooves on the rock and grunted as she pushed. The stone slid fairly easily across the hard ground, leading to a dark shaft plunging deep into the abyss. A simple rope ladder was hammered into the clay walls, but about twenty feet down, the walls and floor turned to stone. Dripping water echoed from somewhere in the tunnels beneath the earth, but all was lost in shadow and darkness.

Rain shuddered at the sight. “Have I mentioned I hate caves?”

“Most pegasi do,” Marigold assured her, although her words hardly seemed to have any galvanizing effect.

“You get used to them,” Finder added. Already he was peering into the darkness, trying to get a glimpse of what might be awaiting them below. “And this connects with the rest of the tunnels?”

Marigold nodded. “The tunnels are all interconnected under Everfree. In fact, some of the city’s sewage systems use the tunnels as natural dumping points. I’d… stay away from those. Messy.” She stuck her tongue out. “Rather than wandering around in the dark, I’d suggest trying to find where a few tunnels meet up and following ponies around. The ones that live down here know where they’re going. If you aren’t prepared, you could easily get lost down there. It’s like a labyrinth.”

Rain shrugged and flexed the blades on her wings. “We’ll mark our path as we go. If worst comes to worst, we can follow the scratches back out in no time.”

“Okay.” Marigold took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “Okay. Just please be safe down there. I don’t want to be responsible for your deaths after everything you went through to save me and my kids.” She smiled sheepishly. “And it’ll be kind of hard to keep living at your place if the owners are declared missing or dead.”

“We’ll be fine,” Finder said, patting her back with his wing. “Thanks for showing us where we needed to go. We would’ve never figured this out without you.”

Marigold nodded. “It was the least I could do. I’ll be waiting at your house for when you return. Taking care of the kids and everything. After all, somepony has to do it.”

Waving a wing, Finder moved towards the ladder. “We’ll be back by nightfall,” he said, placing his hoof on the first rung. He stopped before he descended any further and called out to the yellow mare again. “Also, when you get back, go to a centurion and tell him you’re delivering a report from scout centurion Pathfinder for Twister. Let her know about this tunnel and that we went in. You know… in case something does happen.”

“The only thing that’s going to be happening here is a lot of rebel deaths,” Rain growled. Despite her menacing tone, she hesitated when Finder motioned for her to step towards the ladder.

“Come on in, honey,” he said, descending deeper into the darkness. “The shadows are great!”

Rain scowled at him. “The things you put me through…” Regardless, she still placed her hoof on the first rung after him.

“I don’t know about you, Rain, but the view from down here is spectacular!”

“If you ever wanna see it again you’ll shut up.”

Marigold watched from a distance as they descended. When they slid the stone closed overtop of them and their chatter was lost, the mare sighed and hugged herself.

“Please be safe,” she murmured after them.

The creak of a door echoing down a long hallway woke Typhoon from her fitful sleep. Blinking awake, she struggled to move her weary limbs underneath the heavy woolen covers draped across her body. Yawning, she sat up on the bed and stretched her wings. In doing so, her left wing brushed a damp, stony wall.

Opening her eyes fully, she took a clear look at her surroundings. The room she was in looked more like a blocked off section of a cave than any sort of building or structure. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all rough-hewn stone, seemingly carved out of the earth itself, while the far end of the room was a wall made of heavy stone bricks, within which a solid and damp wooden door was framed. A few torches provided ample light within her “quarters”, which contained an old cot, a nightstand, an iron pitcher half-filled with water, and a plate with some bread and a thin slice of meat. Taking a sniff of the meat, Typhoon realized it was still warm. Somepony had cooked this recently and brought it here for her.

Taking the plate with both hooves, she set it on her lap and began to chew on her meal. Her conditions were… comfortable. She’d expected some sort of damp, dark dungeon with chains and shackles holding her to the wall. Not this. She was fairly certain the door to her quarters only had a small deadbolt to lock it—and that was on the inside, too. Whomever had brought her here certainly didn’t seem to be worried about her trying to escape.

She grit her teeth and clutched at her skull. Was she even really ‘here’? Her mind was filled with the screaming cacophony of dozens of terrifying memories over the past few days. She’d died several times, only to wake up in some new torment. Was this another?

The combination of frustration and terror made her want to scream. She was losing her grasp on reality, and it scared her. She couldn’t tell the difference between what was real and what wasn’t, the illusions were so expertly crafted. She never knew until it all went horribly, horribly wrong.

Doubling over, she hugged her tail against her body and waited. Waited for her reckoning to come. Waited for the pain that would send her spiraling off into a new, more terrifying nightmare.

A knock on the door startled her, and her pupils shrunk as she stared out at it. With a dry creak, the door slid open on rusty hinges until Typhoon could see the silhouette of a unicorn standing in its frame. She instinctually drew back and flared her wings in alarm. Hooves slowly clopped across the floor as the stallion approached, matching perfectly with Typhoon’s accelerating heartbeat.

As the stallion approached, Typhoon’s wide eyes picked out the details. Coal coat. Blue eyes. A gray and black mane. He looked like he was in his mid forties. His cutie mark was obscured by the cloak he wore over his shoulders and down his back. And he was smiling.

Typhoon shuddered. She felt like she should know him from somewhere, but she couldn’t place it. She couldn’t put a name to his face, but she recognized it nonetheless. Some part of her shuddered in fear. Another part screamed for her to kill him, to pummel him to paste with her hooves if necessary. Yet the part that ultimately won out was some small voice in her head that told her to wait and see. To watch him closely.

She realized then that his smile wasn’t malignant, wasn’t fueled off of some twisted anger or pride in her confusion. It was a friendly smile. It was a smile of relief, like a dear friend had just barely survived a brush with death and was finally recovering.

It only made the mare more confused and worried.

“It’s good to see you awake, child,” the unicorn purred. “We were beginning to worry we were too late.” His black horn bathed itself in green magic, and he pulled a stool over from the wall to sit on. A stool with heavy iron legs. Iron legs that’d make a good makeshift weapon. Leaning forward, he steepled his hooves together. “How are you feeling?”

Typhoon refused to answer him, instead keeping her wings flared and trying to keep her breathing slow and steady. She was writhing in agony inside with how close this unicorn was to her, but he seemed respectful of her personal space and kept his distance. If that changed, however…

The unicorn seemed to sense this and slid back a few inches. “Easy, easy. I’m not here to hurt you. Those were the ponies we saved you from. You’re safe now.”

“I… I d-don’t understand,” the mare murmured. “What do you mean? Where’s my father? Where am I?” She started to hyperventilate and began scanning the walls for something, although she didn’t know what. Her eyes snapped back to the unicorn. “Who are you?!”

“You don’t remember…” the unicorn said, more to himself than Typhoon. Frowning, he looked over the few items scattered around her bed before his gaze settled on the pitcher. Once more his magic reached out, lifting the pitcher and its contents off of the ground. Before Typhoon could wonder what he was doing, he splashed the water across her face.

The scream was deafening.

When Typhoon came to, she felt strong forelegs cradling her as she trembled against somepony. Opening her eyes, she realized she was hugging the unicorn for dear life, who’d at some point shifted from the stool to her cot. As her mind caught up to what her body was doing, Typhoon roughly shook herself free and slid to away.

The unicorn regarded her for a few moments with a concerned look on his face. “It’s as I feared. Star Swirl’s magic is still twisting your mind.”

Typhoon looked over from where she was hugging herself. “Star Swirl? What do you mean? He wouldn’t do anything to me. He… he and my dad are friends!”

Biting his lip, the unicorn shook his head. “Typhoon, there’s so much you need to know.”

“What?” Typhoon frowned. “What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

“Typhoon,” the unicorn insisted, raising a hoof to quiet her. “I know you’re confused. It’s understandable, given what you’ve been through. But your life as you knew it is over.”

Typhoon stared at him, dumbfounded. “…What?”

“Think about it,” the unicorn said. “Push through the fog Star Swirl put over your mind and remember how you got here”

“I… but I…” At the stallion’s stare, she nodded. “Okay. Okay. Just… give me a minute.”

She closed her eyes and tried to focus. Fog wasn’t a very good metaphor; it was more like trying to push through mud and muck in the riverbank. Still, feelings and images began to claw their way to the surface of her mind.

Cloudsdale. Cyclone’s betrayal. Her torment in the hooves of her captors in River Rock. Her escape with Star Swirl’s aid. Her fight with Cyclone. Birthing Tempest. Helping her father with Everfree and raising her son. Coming home to find her son missing. Storming through the castle to see her father. Blood. An arrest. Confusion. Darkness.

The nightmares began after that, but Typhoon shut them down before she could think on them too much. Without looking at him, she asked the unicorn in a quiet, frightened voice, “What happened to me?”

The unicorn slid closer to Typhoon. He looked like he wanted to wrap his foreleg around her shoulders and comfort her, but he respectfully maintained his distance. “All I know is that they say you killed your father,” he said. “We knew that you would never do such a thing, so we rescued you.”

Typhoon’s eyes widened. “W-what? What do you m-mean?!” She frantically shook her head, but a haunting feeling in the back of her mind told her exactly what the unicorn was telling her. She remembered the accusations. How they locked her under the castle for days. How she screamed that she was innocent until her voice wore out on her. Crying in her cell, praying that Tempest was okay and that it was all a big misunderstanding.

“Now, think,” the unicorn insisted. “All we know is what they said to the public.” As Typhoon shuddered, he gently nudged her chin so she was looking at him. “What happened? Think and try to sort your memories out. It’ll help. Trust me.”

Typhoon looked away and nodded. “I... I remember coming home two weeks ago. I called for Tempest, but he didn’t answer me. It was odd...” She shook her head. “He always came running to see me when I came home. But I figured that he was just at Twister’s or something.

“But when I got into the kitchen, there was a note on the table,” Typhoon continued. “It had the Legion’s seal on it. I remember opening it, and dropping my helmet in shock. They... they...” she squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. It took her a deep breath to calm herself enough to continue. “They’d taken Tempest away from me. The letter didn’t say why. It just said I was legally incompetent to be his guardian.”

The unicorn nodded, his attention raptly fixed on Typhoon. “Go on,” he urged, motioning with his hoof.

Typhoon took a breath. “I sprinted back to the castle with the letter. I don’t even think I shut the door behind me. But when I got to my father’s office, I opened the door, screaming, and...”

She shook her head like she couldn’t believe what she had seen. “Dad was lying in a pool of his own blood,” she murmured. She remembered it clearly now. “Star Swirl arrived right after me. He saw what happened and told me he was fetching the guards. I didn’t… didn’t know…”

“Didn’t know that he was getting them to arrest you,” he finished for her. Reaching a hoof out, he lightly, ever so lightly touched her shoulder. “What happened next?”

Everything was so vivid. “They took me to the dungeon. I tried explaining that they were making a mistake and that I’d found him like that. I was screaming for Tempest right until they put me in a cell and left me there, and then some.” She shook her head and stared at her hooves. “Then the accusations came. I… I told them the truth. It wasn’t me. I know it wasn’t. Then I saw Star Swirl and…”

“And everything gets blurry beyond that point?”

Typhoon nodded. “Yeah… yeah it does.”

The unicorn leaned back. “When Star Swirl couldn’t get the confessions he wanted from you, he started… messing with your mind.” Again he grabbed the pitcher with his magic, and Typhoon flinched away. Spinning it in its green aura, he said, “The very first nightmare… terror… whatever you want to call it—the very first one of those had something to do with water. We figured that out whenever we tried to make you drink and you instinctively gagged and thrashed.”

“He drowned me,” Typhoon stated rather bluntly. “I was chained to a bed and he drowned me with a skin of water.” She paused. “And what do you mean? Was I out?”

He nodded. “Three days ago, my comrades and I had infiltrated the castle to acquire Legion plans and troop movements. We need to stay one step ahead to survive, you see. But when we were there, I overheard your screams.” Setting the pitcher down, he moved back to the iron stool. “We waited until your tormentor left. That’s how we found out that Star Swirl was behind your torture. When it was all clear, we freed you from your prison. It wasn’t easy, and we lost a good many ponies in providing a distraction so the rest of us could get away. You were in a coma because of his meddling; he was probably trying to fabricate and extract confessions from your mind. We had to kill the legionaries on watch to get you out. I’m sorry about that, by the way.”

Typhoon said nothing.

Sighing, the unicorn stood up. “I was hoping you’d recover sooner, but it’s clear you need time. Star Swirl has soldiers everywhere on the streets looking for you. With your father recovering and you missing, Twister stepped up to fill in. But she’s busy with politics, and she can’t spend all her time on managing the Legion, so Star Swirl offered to help. He’s supposed to be relaying information to and from Twister, but it looks more like he’s giving the soldiers his own commands. In the meantime, we know that Hurricane hasn’t woken since he was stabbed in the back, giving the archmage free reign over Equestria’s military and police forces.” The lights flickered around the room as a sudden draft swayed them, and the unicorn looked around, biting his lip. “It’s only a matter of time before his soldiers find these tunnels… and find you.”

Typhoon wasn’t paying attention to that. She was staring at the unicorn again. She knew she recognized him from somewhere, but according to his story and her own memories… some little voice in the back of her mind was panicking again.

“Who are you?” she asked, uncertainty creeping back into her voice.

He stopped and turned back to Typhoon, flashing her a quick smile. “Oh, I completely forgot to introduce myself, didn’t I?” Bowing to Typhoon, he swept his cloak around him in a fanciful flourish. “My name is Abaddon, and I am the leader of the Founders—the same ponies who gave their lives to rescue you so Equestria can have a chance at a brighter future.”

Typhoon frowned. “What do you mean?”

Abaddon smiled. “We are all children of Equestria. But this Equestria cannot stand as it is. It’s corrupt and preys upon those who serve it—like yourself.” Turning towards the door, his horn washed itself in a green aura. From around the corner, he floated in a long, thin burlap sack and passed it to Typhoon. “We’re freedom fighters. We fight for a better tomorrow. For a more unified tomorrow. We’re what the politicians call the rebels, the rioters, whatever. But that doesn’t describe who or what we are.”

Holding the sack in one hoof, Typhoon unwrapped it with the other. There in front of her was her sword, Hiems Osculum, in perfect condition. Not only that, but it’d been sharpened and polished. As she held it in front of her face, Abaddon continued. “We are the builders. We are a unity. We are what Equestria should become but is too timid and too caught up in hatred to realize. We, Typhoon, are the Founders.” He stuck his hoof out and nudged Typhoon’s sword lower so they could look eye to eye. “And the future… well, it’s built on us.”

He turned around and walked towards the door again. “I know this is hard. I know you’re scared and confused. If you want to walk away from this all, I won’t stop you. None of us will. But I won’t throw more lives away on trying to save you a second time. You go up there and Star Swirl gets his hooves on you, it’s game over. But if you stay… if you help us…” He nodded once. “We can give you the help you need to get your vengeance, save your son, and maybe change the course of history.”

Typhoon said nothing, instead choosing to stare at the blue sheen of her sword. At some point, Abaddon walked out of the room and let the door bounce off its latch, but it didn’t close all the way. His hoofsteps faded down the stony corridors until it was just Typhoon and the sound of her breathing.

The door didn’t open again.

Chapter 8: Turn Not Thy Face from Me

Step. Step. Turn. Slide. Hop. Spin. Strike. Withdraw. Breathe.

Typhoon slackened her jaw, letting the quivering tip of Hiems come to an easy rest. Her eyes narrowed on the stool that was the only complement to the single cot in her ‘cell’, and she took two steps forward, cutting through the air with precision and purpose. At least the empty room gave her enough space to practice, and neither Abaddon nor any of his Founders had interrupted her since she started almost half an hour ago. The ritual gave her time to think and helped clear her mind after everything that the unicorn had told her. It was a terrifying amount to take in, supposing it was all true… but she couldn’t deny what she remembered. Regardless of whether Abaddon was telling the truth or only part of it, there weren’t enough inconsistencies in his side of the story for Typhoon to pick out a lie. The fact that Typhoon still felt like she couldn’t trust reality anymore wasn’t helping her sanity, either.

Growling, she spun in a circle and used her momentum to split the stool in half, bringing it to the ground in two pieces.

Had Star Swirl really betrayed her? She didn’t think the old unicorn was capable of it. Or, rather, she didn’t think he would try it. He was an Archmage, and he had everything he needed to orchestrate a coup of Equestria’s military, if he so chose. And who was going to question him? The Cirrans wouldn’t, because it was well-known that he and Commander Hurricane were friends, and the unicorns and earth ponies could never see him as anything but the grandfatherly archmage who had the nation’s best interests at heart.

Typhoon sighed and collapsed on her cot. Was that what this was all about? Was Star Swirl doing this because her father, Platinum, and Puddinghead were failing?

Was he right?

Equestria was in trouble. Typhoon knew that. Everypony knew that. But what Star Swirl was doing was hardly the right way to go about it. Sheathing her sword, Typhoon kicked her hooves up and laid back down on her cot. Maybe these “Founders” would be able to give her some more information later. Right now, she was exhausted and still trembling faintly from when Abaddon had splashed water on her face. Dousing the torches with a spray of frost from her wing, Typhoon sighed and tried to get some sleep.

But no matter how tired she was, she couldn’t. She was almost afraid to go to sleep. Afraid that the next time she opened her eyes she’d be someplace else; disoriented, confused, terrified. The longer she kept her eyes shut and tried to drift off to a peaceful oblivion, the more anxious she became.

Her ears perked at the sound of her door creaking open, and she had to stop herself from crying out.. Her heart practically jumped into her throat, and she squeezed her eyes shut to try and regain some hold over her breathing. If she looked like she was sleeping, maybe she’d be left alone. She really didn’t want to deal with any more questions right now. Still, she pointed an ear towards the door.

“No lights in here,” she heard an unfamiliar voice whisper. “You sure this is the right place?”

The stranger’s voice gave way to the clopping of hooves as a pony—no, multiple ponies—entered her little room. By Typhoon’s count there were three or four of them, and each gingerly walked across the ground as if they were worried about being caught. These definitely weren’t any of Abaddon’s friends.

“Of course it is,” a different voice answered. “You saw the guards. She’s around here somewhere.” There was a rattle and a curse as one of the ponies found the split stool with his hoof. “Corona, get some light in here.”

She? So they were looking for her. Cracking one of her eyes open, she saw a dark form shuffle forward, accompanied by the rustle of feathers. A tiny ember suddenly sprung into existence on the end of a pegasus’ wing, illuminating its creator and the three ponies standing around him.

Typhoon nearly gasped. Their pauldrons all bore centurion insignias.

“There she is!” one of the centurions hissed, his eyes falling on Typhoon’s form lying on the cot. “She asleep?”

None of the other ponies responded. Instead, they silently drifted closer like ghosts, and Typhoon squeezed her eyes shut. The light stopped right above her closed eyes, and Typhoon could smell the reek of fresh blood on their armor. Still, she didn’t move, but she began to channel ice Empatha to the crest of her right wing, obscured by the rest of her body.

The almost inaudible rattle of armor signified one of the legionaries nodding. “Looks like it.” The speaker snorted, and Typhoon heard his wingblades rattle as he gestured to somepony. “Glade, you want the honors?”

The answer was a hiss of oiled steel on leather. “Sure. We’ll let Star Swirl know it was easier than he thought.”

It was all Typhoon needed to hear. Opening her left wing, she sent a spray of frost and hail hurtling at the soldiers. The four pegasi cursed and staggered back, blinded by the attack, giving Typhoon the time she needed to act. The praetorian tore out of her cot, kicked off the wall, and landed behind them. Before they could recover, Typhoon tore Hiems from its scabbard, dropping the casing at her side, and stood wide with her wings outstretched in front of the doorway.

“You,” she said simply. “You’re with Star Swirl?”

The other three ponies arrayed against her joined the centurion who already had his sword in his teeth and drew their weapons, circling to surround her. The center pony who had already drawn his weapon, an emerald stallion who Typhoon inferred was Glade, snarled at her. “Star Swirl sent us to track you down after you tried to murder your father, traitor,” he spat.

Typhoon bared her teeth. “I did not stab my father!” she screamed. “Star Swirl’s lying to you!”

“I’ll admit, I had my doubts at first,” the stallion continued, continuing to advance on Typhoon. “But the simple fact that you’re hiding with the rebels is more than enough to know you’re a traitor. I feel terrible for Commander Hurricane; both of his children turned out to be nothing but selfish and ungrateful bastards.” He paused, scowling around the sword held in his teeth. “We stopped Cyclone, and he had an army. We’ll stop you too.”

Typhoon kicked the door open wide. “I’m giving you one chance to leave. Tell Star Swirl you found me, and tell him I want to talk. I can be reasonable.”

The centurion scowled. “You want us to leave so you can escape again? You want to talk to Star Swirl so you can kill him?” He shook his head. “The only way we’re leaving is if you come with us, dead or alive.”

“I’m leaving on my own terms,” Typhoon insisted. She stepped aside from the door and pointed with a wing. “These are yours. Leave now. I won’t ask again.”

“Won’t ask again?” Glade scoffed and continued his advance. “You’re outnumbered four to one, and all you have is a sword. No wingblades, no armor. You might be good, praetorian, but you aren’t your father.” He smirked. “Although I can understand why you’re hesitant to leave; this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve gotten together with a unicorn. Do you think Abaddon’s a suitable replacement for Jewel?”

“Shut! Up!!” Typhoon screamed, rearing up and stomping her forehooves on the ground. Fire and ice exploded outwards in a ring of lethally sharp icicles and tongues of flame rising from the floor. The sheer force of the Empatha blasted the centurions back and scorched the fur on their faces. The two closest to her sides cried out in pain as foot-long icicles skewered their sides through their armor, leaving them clutching at their wounds. Furious, Typhoon stomped towards the emerald centurion, her mane ablaze and her wings covered with ice.

“How dare you?! How DARE you?!!” She bent over and grabbed the dazed centurion by the neck, slamming him against the cave wall. “You don’t know what I went through! You don’t know what it’s like! To have to suffer what I’ve suffered!” Growling, she increased the pressure on the centurion’s windpipe until she was almost certain she was going to crush his windpipe entirely. “I won’t be betrayed again! Not by Star Swirl, not by the Legion, and not by anypony else!”

Her ears flicked, hearing another centurion behind her. With a scream, she spun, flinging the centurion over her shoulders. His armored body slammed against the pony leaping for her exposed back, and the two clattered to the ground in a tangle of limbs and armor. That left only the two centurions approaching from Typhoon’s right to deal with.

The first centurion swung his sword high, forcing Typhoon to duck. Twisting left, she managed to slide out from under the reversal and securing her footing before the next attack came. The second pony immediately followed up with a chop from the opposite direction, and Typhoon barely remembered through the rage clouding her judgment that she wasn’t wearing any armor to block with. Instead of instinctually raising a wing, the mare managed to contort her body to kick the centurion in the jaw before his sword could meet her flesh. The gladius went sailing off into the dark room while the stallion fell to the ground in a clattering pile of armor.

That left just one centurion standing, but he wouldn’t last long. Widening her stance, Typhoon tightened her grip on Hiems and lunged forward, the thin blue gladius meeting with the centurion’s standard-issue sword in a piercing ring of metal. The blue sword hissed as Typhoon’s Empatha poured into it, releasing a cloud of frost that froze her opponent’s lips to his sword and left him recoiling in pain. A bladed wing hurtled in Typhoon’s direction, but Typhoon was able to force it away with another burst of ice from her own wing. The shallow gouges the skysteel tore out of her impromptu wingblade healed themselves in another second.

A shout from behind her was all the warning Typhoon got before Glade struck at her. Somersaulting off her front hooves, Typhoon heard his sword bite into the ground with a crunch of stone and a spray of sparks. Her focus immediately shifted back to the staggering pony in front of her with the frozen jaw. Before he could react, her sword came down hard on his helmet. The stallion collapsed instantly, and Hiems’ blue skysteel withdrew scarlet.

Typhoon only registered her downed opponent as a number. One down, three to go. Two were behind her now, one in front of her. Flaring her wings, Typhoon propelled herself to the low ceiling, spun so her hooves made contact with the stone, and kicked off to tackle the isolated centurion. Caught off guard, the soldier wasn’t able to rally any sort of defense for Typhoon’s tackle, and the two rolled away from the emerald centurion and his companion who had provided the light.

Still, despite her momentum, the stallion she had tackled was magnitudes heavier than her in his skysteel armor. Their tumbling grapple ended when Typhoon’s back slammed against the wall, leaving the centurion to pin her down with his armor. Over his shoulder, the other two centurions galloped forward, weapons drawn and wings flared in case Typhoon managed to worm her way free. Kicking her hind legs out, Typhoon sent them reeling with a spray of icicles, buying her enough time to summon a four inch thick plate of ice over her heart right as the stallion pinning her down thrust his dagger. Without any sort of momentum behind the attack, the dagger bounced harmlessly off of the ice, and Typhoon responded by scissoring her ice-bladed wings against his neck. The wounds they inflicted weren’t deep, but they were deep enough; the centurion began to bleed out as Typhoon’s wing left his jugular, and she was able to shove the dying stallion aside and scramble back to her hooves.

Two down. Two standing. Typhoon could see fear in the centurions’ eyes, but she knew they weren’t going to retreat. Nodding to each other, the centurions circled to either of Typhoon’s sides, forcing the mare to turn and keep her wings flared so both were in sight. While she had the chance, she continued to channel Empatha to her coat, hardening her hide under several inches of ice. While it might not stop a sword swung at full force, it would at least soften the blow so she could keep fighting.

Seeing the ice materialize on Typhoon’s coat, both centurions dashed forward to try and prevent her from gaining any additional protection. Slamming her wings hard against her sides, Typhoon dove forward and out of the way. She was a tick too early, however, and both stallions were able to redirect off of one another and immediately close the gap on Typhoon. Still, their advantage was lost, as they were now both in front of her. Instead, they turned to trying to overwhelm Typhoon with attacks, fighting six blades to three.

Backpedaling, Typhoon quickly alternated her sword and her iced wings to catch the whirlwind of blades swung in her direction. Unfortunately, she had to hop back and roll to the sides too often to counterattack, and she knew that she’d tire long before the two centurions did. Slamming her shoulder against the ground to duck under a high slash of a sword, Typhoon channeled more Empatha to her sword and rolled out swinging. While her sword didn’t come close to connecting with either of the two Cirrans, ice sprayed off of the skysteel in a hail of razor sharp sheets. Most of the ice shattered on the centurions’ armor, but any bit of exposed coat was suddenly lacerated, forcing them to retreat and regroup. Typhoon likewise took the time to reinforce her coat with more ice and coat Hiems with another burst of Empatha.

She staggered a bit as she did so. She was burning through her mana reserves much too fast. If she didn’t finish the fight soon she’d wear herself down to the point of exhaustion, and it’d certainly be over then.

Seeing Typhoon stagger, the two centurions dipped into their own Empatha reserves and rushed her. One of the pair, Corona she assumed, suddenly burst into flames, rushing her like a fireball. The other, the emerald stallion who was in charge, likewise charged her, his silhouette blurring as he galloped with much more speed than he should’ve had. Gritting her teeth, Typhoon began to back towards the open door. She needed zone control to fight a fire and a wind empath, and right now she didn’t have it.

The centurions seemed to realize this, and Corona diverged to try and block the door. Stomping her hoof against the ground, Typhoon summoned a wall of ice to try and block him and fluttered to the door with her wings. The ice wall lasted all of two seconds before the fire empath burnt straight through it, while the emerald centurion, Glade, simply skirted around it without losing much in the way of momentum. Still, Typhoon was able to burst through the door and into the tunnel outside.

The door to her room came out perpendicular to a hallway running to her left and right, with a rough-hewn stone wall directly in front of her. Galloping straight at the wall, Typhoon jumped at the last possible second, planting all four hooves against the stone and rocketing herself in reverse. Spinning in midair, she tried to strike an iced wing straight through Glade’s throat. The wind empath was fast, but not fast enough; even as the stallion twisted to the side, Typhoon slammed her hind leg straight into his face, knocking him backwards.

Then the inferno was upon her. As Corona charged her, Typhoon felt like she was standing in the middle of the sun. The spray of ice shards off of Hiems into his face did nothing, and his mere presence was melting the armor off of her coat and the blades from her wings. Swinging his sword in a blind rage, Corona forced Typhoon to fly backwards down the hall just to keep away. Furiously pumping her wings, Typhoon raised what icy obstacles she could to slow Corona’s progress, but they were too weak to stop the fireball.

The hallway opened up into a wide cavern filled with stalactites hanging over a pool of murky brown water. Finally out of the claustrophobic hallways, Typhoon used the more open air to her advantage, swirling around the stalactites to keep solid stone between her and Corona. The thermals off of Corona’s wings behind her helped push her faster, keeping the mare well ahead of him. Typhoon knew she was the fastest soldier in the Legion that wasn’t a wind empath, and she’d be able to outpace Corona for days. Glade on the other hoof would be a problem, and Typhoon knew she had to deal with Corona before the wind empath rejoined the fight.

An explosion of fire nearly knocked Typhoon out of the air, and only the rapid flapping of her wings and the ricochet off of a stalactite kept her flying. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Corona, wings wreathed in fire, twist into a tight corkscrew before backflipping out. The sudden change in momentum sent a ball of fire rocketing in Typhoon’s direction, and the mare had to twist and kick off of the ceiling to get underneath the explosion before it roasted her alive. Roaring in rage, Corona flapped his wings and continued the pursuit, his wings once again building up Empatha.

A rush of air into the tunnel told Typhoon that Glade was on the verge of rejoining the fray. Looking for a solution, Typhoon picked out a thin stalactite and dove towards it, her wings flapping and building up speed the entire way. Taking a deep breath, Typhoon stretched her forelimbs out and caught the edge of the stalactite. Her momentum spun her around the stone structure until she released it, hurtling back towards Corona. Curling her body into a spinning missile, she barely had time to register the look of shock on Corona’s face before her ice-coated back slammed into his jaw. The stallion went flying backwards, his focus lost and his Empatha dissipating from his feathers, before he landed in the pool at the bottom of the cave with an unceremonious splash.

Out of the corner of her eye, Typhoon saw Glade fly towards the ceiling of the cave, searching for her. Down below, Corona was trying to make his way to the surface of the pool, his heavy armor weighing him down. Knowing that she couldn’t let the fire empath recover, Typhoon summoned whatever Empatha she could to her hooves and dropped onto the surface of the pond, almost right over Corona. Immediately the water began to freeze over, rapidly expanding out in a circle until it touched the stony shores. In a few seconds the ice was several inches thick and so ridden with frost that it was impossible to see the water underneath.

The wind ripped for a split second before Typhoon felt the bite of a sword into her flank. Ice shattered off of her hide as Glade’s sword smashed it apart and drew forth a fount of blood from the deep cut; still, Typhoon would have lost her leg entirely if the ice plating didn’t absorb some of the blow. But she couldn’t stand still to think about it long. Jumping forward, Typhoon barely escaped a series of slashes that tore colorful hairs from her tail.

Glade pressed his advantage, his wind Empatha allowing him to strike at Typhoon far faster than she could block his attacks. His sword drew a long cut down Typhoon’s side from shoulder to flank, and another slash would’ve taken her wing off if she had not thrown herself to the floor to get underneath it. A stomp from his hoof almost crushed Typhoon’s windpipe, but the mare was able to jerk her head back and freeze the patch of stone where her neck just was. When Glade’s hoof came down, the centurion slipped and fell onto his side, but by the time Typhoon scrambled back to her hooves, he was already standing again.

Distance. That was what she needed. Turning around, Typhoon quickly rose to the ceiling of the cave and stopped with her back to the wall. Glade watched her for a second, growling, before rising up to meet her.

It was just what Typhoon was hoping for. With no other way to approach her, Glade charged her in a straight line, albeit uncomfortably fast. Taking a deep breath, Typhoon sent wave after wave of frost and hail from her wings, pelting the stallion in his charge with snow and ice. Glade staggered for a moment and surged forward, but all of a sudden his speed began to bleed off like a severed artery. A glance to his wings revealed why; they were coated with ever-thickening ice, just like the rest of his limbs, weighing him down until he could hardly move. Finally unable to flap his wings any more, Glade fell to the ground with a thud, his feathers completely encased in ice.

Breathing hard, Typhoon nearly collapsed across from him when she too touched down. She’d spent nearly all her mana, and she was exhausted. Still, it was worth it; no matter how hard Glade struggled to move, he simply couldn’t. His joints were frozen solid and his wings hung like stones at his sides, completely negating the speed and ferocity his own Empatha lent him. As she staggered closer, Glade only glared at her, unable to reach a weapon or move to stop her.

Typhoon stopped a short distance away, wearily smiling. “I told you I’d give you one chance to leave.” Hiems clattered to the ground next to her, the incredibly light sword seeming almost too heavy for the mare to hold. “You should’ve listened.”

The stallion spat in her face, but Typhoon didn’t even flinch. “This isn’t the end, traitor,” he hissed, jerking his frozen limbs once more but failing to get any sort of movement out of them. “Just because you killed us doesn’t mean it’s over. Star Swirl’s going to find you, and the Legion will have its justice. You can count on that.”

Typhoon’s hoof struck him across the face. “I am not a traitor. But I know who is.” Bending down, she picked up Hiems Osculum and tucked it under her wing. “And I’m going to put a stop to him and everypony that’s working with him. No matter the cost.”

Hoofsteps echoing down the hall caused Typhoon to wearily turn her head. Cursing, she widened her stance in preparation of another fight, knowing fully well that she was hardly in the condition to fight any more. Her mana was spent and all she wanted to do was collapse into oblivion; now, she supposed she’d get it one way or another.

But the ponies that galloped out of the hallway weren’t legionaries. Typhoon almost collapsed with relief as she saw the familiar face of Abaddon leading a cadre of earth ponies and unicorns behind him, all armed with stolen Legion weapons and ill-fitting armor. There was a definite anxiety in Abaddon’s eyes until the moment he saw Typhoon still standing. That anxiety quickly turned to concern as he galloped over to the praetorian and supported her with his shoulder. “Typhoon, I-I’m sorry,” he said, leading her over to the wall where she could sit and rest. “We had no idea that they had gotten to you. We only heard the fighting from the lower levels and came as soon as we could.”

Waving a hoof, Abaddon beckoned another unicorn over, who knelt next to Typhoon and began to dress her wounds. Typhoon noticed that his usual black cloak was bloodstained as well. “You’ve been fighting?” she asked, somewhat delirious from her exhaustion and blood loss.

“There was another group that we encountered on our way here,” Abaddon said. “Four of them, all centurions. Otherwise we would’ve gotten to you sooner.”

Typhoon cursed. So it was a Cirran strike team. She’d sent out a few of the eight-pony teams in the past to accomplish dangerous missions deep within enemy territory. She was surprised Star Swirl had managed to get his hooves on one to send after her. Then again, if he was hijacking Twister’s orders, all he’d have to do was write his own and transpose Twister’s signature to the paper, which she figured wouldn’t be too hard for the Archmage to manage.

When her wounds were patched up, Abaddon helped Typhoon to her hooves. “Let’s get you back to your quarters,” he said, supporting her the entire way. “I’m going to put armed guards outside your door in case Star Swirl tries something like this again. I’ll have some of my unicorns try to see what they can get out of the one you left alive, too. We’ll need the information to stay ahead of the game.”

Setting Typhoon down on the bed, he regarded her for a moment as she collapsed against the covers. “I should get back to my companions,” he said, taking a step back. “You get your rest. I’ll see you when you’re feeling better.”

He was nearly out the door before Typhoon managed to find the strength to speak. “I want to help.”

Abaddon stopped. “Hmm?”

“I said… I said I want to help,” Typhoon said, sitting upright. “I want to put an end to this. I want to clear my name, and the only way I can do that is with your help.” She bit her lip and looked away. “I’m not strong enough to fight them all, to fight Star Swirl, on my own.”

Abaddon didn’t say anything to encourage her; he only nodded. “Aye. And there’ll be more the closer you get to the castle.”

“So let me help you,” Typhoon insisted. “Let me help you like you’ve helped me. All I want… all I want is to see my Tempest again. And I know you can help me do that.”

The black stallion nodded once more. “Yes, yes we can.” He was silent for a moment before adding, “But now, you need to get your sleep. If you need to find me, I’ll be down the hall to the left and down two levels. Whenever you’re recovered, come to me. We need to get packed up and move deeper into the tunnels; this location isn’t safe anymore, if Star Swirl’s minions found it.”

“Right,” Typhoon murmured, darkness starting to overtake her vision. Yawning, she shakily laid back down on her cot and shut her eyes, but keeping Hiems close by her side. Within moments, she was unconscious, snoring lightly and wings twitching in her sleep.

Abaddon watched her for a few minutes more, his blue eyes narrowing on Typhoon’s still form. Then, with a burst of green Arcana, he shut the door behind him, his hoofsteps fading away on the stone floors of the tunnels.

“Are you sure this isn’t some kind of hoax? It seems way too outrageous to be true.”

Clover the Clever chuckled lightly to herself. “I’m certain, Diadem. I heard it from both Platinum and Commander Hurricane. At least he doesn’t lie, so you know it has to be true.” Still, Clover had to admit that even she was a bit—okay, very—skeptical that Celestis and Lunis themselves had come to visit Everfree. It seemed… surreal.

Diadem trotted at Clover’s side as the two mages navigated the halls to the north tower, her face scrunched deep in thought. “Still, you don’t think two goddesses would just pop on in and say hi like nothing’s going on. It just feels… feels weird, you know?”

“Mmmm,” Clover hummed, glancing at the teal filly. “Although maybe it’s the opposite.”

“Huh?”

“Maybe they’re here because of everything that’s going on,” Clover explained. “The riots especially. This is the first time in who knows how long that all three races of ponies have unified under one banner. Maybe they’re trying to help us so that we don’t lose everything we’ve accomplished in these past five years.”

“But what about the crystal ponies? Don’t they count?”

“I…” Clover’s mouth moved silently as she searched for her voice. “Well, I suppose so. But they have their own unity, separate from us. And from what I’ve heard from Smart Cookie, they’re admittedly doing much, much better by themselves than our three races are together.”

“Why does their system work so much better than ours?” the filly asked, looking up at Clover. “If they’ve got it all figured out, can’t we borrow a few of their ideas?”

“Uh… I mean, we could, and Smart Cookie—”

“Or maybe we could ask for their help, too,” Diadem continued. “We could share ideas and open borders and everything! It’d be great for both of our countries!”

Sighing, Clover rolled her eyes and gave Diadem a small smile. “I think that’s enough about politics for now, Diadem,” she said. “I don’t know much about them myself. If you really want to waste your time focusing on them instead of your studies, you can talk with Twister later.”

“Meh, politics are kinda dumb anyways.”

“I’ve always thought so,” Clover agreed. The two unicorns rounded a corner, taking note of the increasing number of legionaries at this part of the castle. “Ten, fifteen, twenty years ago, Queen Platinum was not the same mare she is today.”

Diadem blinked. “Really?”

“Oh yes,” Clover answered. “Before you met her in Onyx Ridge, she was very selfish and childish.” At Diadem’s incredulous expression, Clover chuckled. “Back then, I was just her hoofmaiden. I had to clean up for her and do her makeup; give her baths and be something for her to talk at whenever she felt like it. Talk at, mind you. She almost never wanted to hear my opinion unless I was agreeing with her.”

The filly frowned. “But she didn’t seem like that in Onyx Ridge.”

“Because she wasn’t, Diadem. When it was just the two of us out in the wilderness together, she realized just what she was missing her entire life. She realized what it was like to have a friend.” Nostalgia pulled Clover’s lips up in a smile. “I think my fondest memory of that whole journey was lying under the stars with her, pointing out the constellations and having an honest, friendly talk with each other. I wasn’t something to talk at anymore; I was somepony to talk to.

“And that’s why I hope that these ponies really are Celestis and Lunis; Platinum’s been through so much these last few years, and I’ve been praying to them every night to help her in some way. Maybe my prayers have finally been answered.”

At last the large door to the north tower stood before them, closed, barred, and with eight legionaries standing in front of it. At Clover’s and Diadem’s mere approach, however, the soldiers all stepped to the side without a word and opened the door for them. Thanking the pegasi, Clover trotted through the door with Diadem slowly entering after her, distracted by the legionaries and their armor. It’d been five years since the filly had gotten to see Cirran legionaries up close, but still she gawked at them whenever she had the chance. If it weren’t for Clover and Star Swirl tightly regimenting her arcane studies, Clover was certain the filly would run off to the Legion when she finally became old enough.

There was nopony in the main room of the tower, but Clover’s ears picked up the sounds of conversation from the balcony to the right. Beckoning Diadem to follow her, she began to walk in that direction, and the filly’s hooves clopped against the stone floor as she bounded to catch up with her mentor. A solid thud startled both unicorns for a second as the door shut behind them, but after only a moment’s hesitation, they continued.

“…Mars being particularly lovely this past cycle. And Jasper’s comet is supposed to make a pass in the next three months, if my calculations are correct.” It was Star Swirl’s voice, the elderly unicorn speaking with a restrained passion he reserved for talking about the night sky. It was a passion Clover had been blessed to hear often; not many other ponies ever got to listen to him discuss the night.

“Star Swirl?” Clover asked as she rounded the corner. “Are you here to meet—!”

Her voice fled as she finally saw them before her. Star Swirl sat at a table, his hat resting on a chair next to him and his beard finely combed. Across from him was a tall mare of the deepest blue, with a mane that shimmered and flowed like the night sky. Her teal eyes slid from Star Swirl to Clover, and with a faint nod, stood up from the table. “Greetings. You must be Clover the Clever and Diadem. Star Swirl has told me much about you.” Waving a wing, she gestured towards the table. “Come. Sit. We were promised tea in but a few minutes, and I invite you to join us.”

Awestruck, Clover could only stare as her limbs seemed to move her of their own accord to a spot at the table. Her magic fumbled with a chair, dragging it across the floor with a hideous shriek that snapped her out of her daze. Apologizing, Clover slid into her chair, feeling small and naked under the alicorn’s piercing gaze.

Thankfully, Star Swirl was there to help her with a smile. “Clover, this is Luna,” he said, nudging her shoulder. “While she and Lunis are one in the same, the mare behind the legend is far more like you or I than what our priests would have you believe.” He gave Luna an easygoing smile. “Even though she does control the entire night sky”

“So you really do control the stars and the moon and the planets and stuff?” Diadem excitedly asked, hopping into her seat. Apparently the filly had fewer qualms about striking up a conversation with one of her goddesses than her mentor did. “That’s really cool!”

“Indeed,” Luna answered her. “Whereas my sister concentrates her magic on moving the sun, I diffuse my own throughout the entirety of the night sky, moving the moon and creating beautiful displays among the stars for ponies like you to enjoy.” She smiled at Star Swirl, an honest, happy smile. “The Archmage enjoys talking about my night, which always leaves me absolutely thrilled. Too few appreciate the splendor I have made for you all.”

Seeing Luna shed Clover’s preconceived notions of the deity representing her, Clover allowed her shoulders to relax a little. “So why does Celestis only control the sun if you control the entire night sky? And what about our priests that claim that they help raise the sun for all of ponykind?”

“Your second question would be better answered were you to ask Celestia herself, not me,” Luna said. “Admittedly, I do not understand how my sister handles that ritual. I am of the opinion that she merely lets your kind assist her in the task, yet shoulders the brunt of the magical burden herself.” Her eyes shifted to the west, focusing on the setting sun. “As for your first question, Celestia must control the sun at all times, from dawn to dusk, as it requires her careful attention to maintain its orbit. It is scores of times heavier than my moon, and requires a steady application of her magic to keep it moving across the sky. Simply put, she does not have the resources to play with her skies the way I do with my night, apart from radiant dawns to striking sunsets.

“I, on the other hoof, only need to give the moon a push each day to set it on its course, leaving my magic free to do other things, such as arrange constellations, craft fanciful auroras, or drag a comet close enough that it can be seen from this planet.” Her eyes shifted to Diadem, and she offered the filly an apologetic smile. “I regret to say that the other planets in our system are beyond my control. They operate according to their own whims, on magic cast long before the beginning of time. Still, I do my best to highlight them for the mortal ponies to enjoy.” Her ears twitched out the sound of approaching ponies, and she sat up straighter. “And I do believe my sister has brought the tea.”

Clover’s ears pivoted first, followed by her head, towards the approaching chatter as Chancellor Puddinghead entered with Celestia at his side. The towering mare gently smiled as Puddinghead rambled on and on, apparently discussing something so exciting he hardly took time to breathe. For once, Clover noticed, the brown stallion seemed to be acting like his normal self—his eyes definitely weren’t red, at the very least.

“Greetings, sister,” Luna said, nodding to Celestia as the mare approached their table. Her horn illuminated with a midnight glow, and she levitated a cup of tea off of the platter Celestia was carrying with her own magic before the taller alicorn could even lower it to the table. Taking a sip, Luna closed her eyes and hummed. “Mmmm, I’d forgotten what it was like to live in the comforts of civilized society. Now I regret not returning sooner.”

“I know what you mean,” Celestia responded. Turning to the mortal ponies present at the table, she smiled and bowed her head, holding a wing across her chest. “It is an honor to meet you all. You can call me Celestia.”

Clover bowed. “Oh no, Celestis—Celestia, the honor’s all mine.” One look at Celestia’s motherly smile put Clover’s soul at ease, and she relaxed considerably. “I’m Clover, and this is Diadem and Star Swirl the Bearded,” she said, pointing to each pony in turn. Star Swirl humbly bowed his head, as did Diadem, although the filly peeked at Celestia through her mane.

“A pleasure to meet you two,” Celestia said, smiling sincerely. “I’ve already had the fortune to meet Star Swirl before, but it feels good to be in his company again nonetheless.” Grabbing a teacup of her own, she took a seat at the table next to her sister, and tilted her horn in Puddinghead’s direction. “The Chancellor and I were just discussing plans for the parade he plans to hold in our honor in three days’ time.”

“Parade?” Luna and Clover asked simultaneously. They quickly glanced at each other before Luna continued. “This is news to me, Tia. What sort of parade?”

Celestia opened her mouth, but Puddinghead was faster. “Oooooooooh it’s gonna be the greatest parade ever in the history of Equestria!” he exclaimed, practically hovering in the air. “There’s gonna be music and floats and performers and acrobats and soldiers and confetti and food and drinks and—!”

“Sounds absolutely wonderful,” Star Swirl interrupted. Stroking his beard, he shot Diadem a coy look. “Would you be interested in some fireworks, Chancellor?”

Puddinghead nearly exploded as he gasped. “That’d be the super-duperest! Maybe you can write their names in the sky! Or their faces! Or both!”

“Yay!” Diadem exclaimed, jumping out of her seat. “Fireworks are awesome!”

Star Swirl chuckled. “And would you care to help me with them, young lady?” He smiled at Clover. “Assuming your mentor is okay with that, of course.”

Clover couldn’t help but return his smile. “Of course she can. I think the practice would be good for her. After all, she’s practically a mage already,” she added with a wink.

Diadem hopped out of her chair and hugged Clover. “Thanks, Clover, you’re the best!” she said. Letting go, she ran a few happy circles on the balcony. “This is gonna be so awesome! I can’t wait!”

“You bet it is!” Puddinghead exclaimed, all but joining the filly. “I’ve already told Platinum and Hurricane about it, and they’re helping me get the pieces together. It’s gonna be the greatest thing ever! It’s about time Equestria had something to party about!”

“But of course,” Luna said with a smile that soon dropped to one of concern. “But what about the rebels and revolutionaries? I personally have yet to see any signs of them, but Commander Hurricane assures my sister and I that they are present nonetheless. Are we certain that this parade will be safe from their influence?”

Puddinghead blew it off with a wave of his hoof. “I’m leaving that to those hawkish pegasi to figure out, but I doubt we’ll have much of a problem. Equestria hasn’t had anything to party about in years! Even if the mean rebels show their faces, they’re not gonna look good to the rest of the ponies if they meddle with this. Commander Ricky can handle it!”

“That… was aptly put,” Clover said, a little surprised by the Chancellor’s logic.

The stallion just smiled back at her. “Of course it was! I know how to read ponies! I’m not the domestic advisor of Equestria for nothing, after all!”

Star Swirl hummed. “Of course. So the plans are in motion, then?”

Puddinghead vigorously nodded his head. “I already have my best party planners working on it! And Platinum’s getting donations and services from the various guilds around Everfree! And Hurricane’s planning with Twister on how best to organize security! All we need now is time, hard work, and a lot of sugar and sleepless nights to get from A to B!” He began to bounce away, giggling to himself. “This is gonna be fantabulous!”

Celestia watched him go, a faint smile on her face. “He’s certainly an enthusiastic pony.”

“Ah, if only you knew the half of it,” said Star Swirl, shaking his head. Grunting, the aging pony stood up, his arthritic joints cracking and making him wince. “Sun and Stars,” he muttered, shaking his head, “I’m getting too old for this. I’m already eighty-four.” He bowed his head to the Sisters. “I’ll be in my workshop if you need me. It was nice talking with the both of you.”

“But of course,” Luna said, smiling. “Are you perhaps free tonight? I would enjoy having your company when I raise the moon.”

Star Swirl humbly tilted his head. “You’re not requesting anything out of my normal schedule, Luna; I always watch the moon rise at dusk. I would be happy to accompany you.”

A faint, happy blush pulled Luna’s cheeks from dark blue closer to purple. “Thank you. You do me a great honor.”

The Archmage wordlessly nodded and strode away at a leisurely pace. Luna watched him go, and when he was out of sight, she stood up. “Sister, if you will excuse me, I will be returning to the Mountain to commune with my Guard about our new permanent arrangements in this city. I shall return by sundown.”

“Very well,” Celestia said. “I’ll be here when you return; this balcony seems like an excellent spot for carrying out our duties. In the meantime, I’ll be getting to know the ponies that live in the castle.” Noting Clover’s concerned look, she offered her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry; Commander Hurricane made his wishes clear that I refrain from visiting the city itself until the parade, and I have to agree with him. The parade will have its strongest impact if it’s the first time that the ponies of Everfree truly see us.”

With that, Luna opened her downy midnight wings and took flight, flying straight up into the cloud layer and vanishing from sight, while Celestia finished her tea and withdrew into the castle halls. That left Clover and Diadem sitting at the table, finishing their own servings of tea while the afternoon wore on around them.

“That was cool,” Diadem said. “They seem like cool ponies.”

“They do,” Clover agreed. “They were very nice.” And normal, she silently added. Certainly not what she had expected. Sighing, she stood up and brushed her mane out of her face. “Come on, Diadem. Let’s get you back to your studies.”

“Awww….”

“Don’t ‘aww’ me,” Clover said, beckoning to the filly. Diadem walked over to her, her head down and sulking, and when she was by her side Clover urged her onwards with a swish of her tail. Leaving the balcony behind, they trotted out the heavy doors in the interior of the castle and down the stone halls towards their workshop.

A parade… really? Clover had to admit that it was a novel idea. She wasn’t sure if it was the Sisters’ cup of tea, so to speak, but she did admire their enthusiasm for it. They were willing to help pull Equestria back on track, and Clover believed they could do it. Besides, maybe a parade was for the best. Puddinghead was right; Equestria needed some reason to celebrate and be happy.

She looked over her shoulder at Diadem, who looked anything but enthusiastic to return to her studies after talking with Celestia and Luna. A little smile pulled at the mare’s lips, and she paused for a second so Diadem could catch up with her. Draping a comforting foreleg across the filly’s shoulders, she led her down the hall. “So what do you want to learn first? How to make bright red explosions or fiery screamers?”

“And… there’s been nothing? No news since then?”

Commander Hurricane sat in Twister’s office, his helmet held between tired hooves. He stared into his reflection in the gold trim, stared into the eyes of a weary, aching stallion whose days in the Legion were inexorably winding down. His eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks gaunting, and his mane frayed. Perhaps most noticeable of all was the pressure on his shoulders, crushing him into his chair. This latest news only made it infinitely worse.

Twister tapped her hooves together, looking away. “When Legate Rain investigated, she found signs of a battle. Typhoon had taken four senior centurions with her; she wasn’t alone when it happened. Rain only found three bodies. Typhoon and Centurion Balefire are both missing, and we haven’t had any updates on their status since then.”

She offered Hurricane as comforting a look as she could manage. “She’s still alive, Cane. If the rebels had killed her or tortured her, they’d want you to know. We would’ve found her on a rooftop somewhere. We can only guess that they’re holding her for some reason.”

“And what reason would that be?” Hurricane murmured, empty, defeated. “Have they sent any demands? Have they even bothered contacting us to let us know that they have her?”

Twister bit her lip. “We’ve seen a marked decrease in rebel activity since the event…”

“Twister, don’t politic me,” Hurricane pleaded, holding up a hoof. “Just tell me straight.”

Sighing, Twister slackened her wings in defeat. “Nothing. Not a word. We don’t know what they’re keeping her for… what they’re doing to her…” She shook her head. “You know there’s a reason why they’re keeping her, Cane. They’re not doing this just to pluck your feathers, although I suspect they’ll take that as a bonus side effect.”

“Well, it’s working so far,” Hurricane muttered. Leaning back, he looked his sister in the eye. “Do we have ponies looking for them right now?”

“Of course we do; she’s my niece, after all,” Twister answered, her feathers a bit ruffled. “As soon as I heard what happened, I sent Pathfinder and Iron Rain after leads. Finder’s the best scout we have, so I figured he’d be able to navigate the slums without trouble, and Rain… well, she’s simply our strongest fighter. After you, of course,” she added with a small smile.

Hurricane waved his hoof. “She’s our strongest fighter, period, but a legionary needs both strength and tact to be truly great. At least she’s picked up a lot more of the latter since the Exodus all those years ago.” He sat still for a moment, thinking to himself, before nodding at some conclusion and looking back at Twister. “And you’ve shored up the rest of the Legion as well?”

“Doubled patrols, increased the number of legionaries on duty, and tightened down checkpoints into and out of the city, especially across the Choke. Everything short of military curfew.”

“Right,” Hurricane said. “Right.” He stood up and wandered over to the window in Twister’s office, looking out over the rooftops of Everfree City until the high class stone gave way to thatch and shanties just across the Choke. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and listened to the gentle murmur of city life below. Typhoon was still here; she was still in Everfree somewhere. Something in his heart knew it.

He nearly jumped as a soft foreleg draped across his armorless shoulders. Twister’s head leaned against his neck, nuzzling it softly, comfortingly. “We’ll find her, Hurricane,” she whispered, hugging him close. “You know we will.”

Hurricane nodded, swallowing hard on the emotions threatening to overtake him. It was all he could really do to stand there silently; thankfully, Twister didn’t say anything more. She just held him by her side until the shaking in the stallion’s shoulders stopped.

“Thank you,” Hurricane whispered, barely louder than a breath. Coughing once or twice, he roughly forced the emotion away and out of his voice. “Has… Is Tempest alright?”

“He’s okay for the time being,” Twister said, still clinging to Hurricane’s side. “We’ve all been telling him that his mom’s away on a special mission. It’s only been a few days now, but if we have to keep it up for a few weeks…” She shook her head. “He’s already talking about when his mommy’s coming home. He misses her, even if he won’t openly say it… he is only four, after all.”

Hurricane swallowed hard. “Where is he?”

Twister opened her wing and pointed to her personal room behind her office. “He should be resting, now. I’ve been keeping him entertained when I’m not dealing with Parliament, and when I am I usually have one of the centurions take him down to the barracks to watch the legionaries train. He gets exhausted fairly quickly, but only because he’s trying to keep up with everypony every day.”

Stepping away from the window, Hurricane softly strode towards the door and gently nudged it open. Inside was the blue colt, passed out on Twister’s bed, his chest peacefully rising and falling. His open wings twitched at his sides, and a look of contentment filled his face. Gingerly opening the door the rest of the way, Hurricane stepped inside and moved a hoof through his grandson’s mane, parting the white, brown, and black streaks. Tempest twitched in his sleep, but feeling the reassuring pressure of Hurricane’s hoof, soon yawned and withdrew even deeper into oblivion’s embrace.

“I swear I’ll find your mommy,” Hurricane whispered, his magenta eyes fixed on the colt. “I’ll bring her home and things will go back to the way they were. The way they should be.”

He bent down and kissed the colt’s forehead, then retreated out of the room. He paused in the doorway to cast one last sad look in Tempest’s direction before shutting the door behind him. Sighing, he let his shoulders sag and faced Twister, who was waiting for him on the other side.

“I should be going,” he murmured, his eyes downcast and not looking at anything in particular. “I have to organize security detail for the parade. If the rebels are going to try something, it’s going to be then, and we can’t afford to let that happen.” Standing straighter, he nodded towards a pile of scrolls and quills. “Draft a message to the Equestrian 5th Legion and order them back to Everfree. Our borders with the Crystal Union are less important than the protection of our capital. As soon as they return, reinforce the Choke and place permanent guards outside of every key building in the city proper. We need to control access to try and break up their meetings and identify suspicious individuals.”

Twister nodded. “Consider it done. I needed something else to do besides signing grants and responding to inane petitions and letters.” She touched his shoulder, concern filling her face. “Take the rest of the day off, Cane. You look like you need the rest. Strigon only knows what you’ve been through these past few days. At least get a good night’s sleep before you clue me in.”

Sighing, Hurricane reluctantly nodded. “Alright. I’ll let you and Pan Sea and the Council know about my plans and everything tomorrow. I’ll just… be in my quarters, if you happen to need me.”

The brown mare raised an eyebrow, standing across from Hurricane expectantly. The stallion’s lips twitched upwards, and he leaned in to give his sister a hug. Twister hummed as she leaned against him, running the crests of her wings up and down his neck.

“It’s good to have you home safe, brother,” she murmured. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I know what you mean,” Hurricane answered just as softly. “You’re the only one left I can talk to about home. About the days before the Legion.”

Twister snorted. “I thought there was nothing before the Legion,” she teased, a coy glint in her golden eyes.

Hurricane smiled softly. “And there’ll be nothing after it, either. But if that nothing’s the same as the first…” He shook his head. “I don’t think I’d mind it so much.”

His sister smiled once more and brushed his cheek with her wingtip. “Get some rest, Hurricane. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Nodding once, Hurricane turned around and left Twister behind. The door shut gently behind him, almost with a grim finality, leaving the commander to sigh and continue onwards, his head down and his wings drooping at his sides.

He hardly remembered the walk back to his room; it was all muscle memory at this point. From one stony corridor to the next, his hooves carried him across the grand halls of the castle and up its many steps until he stood before a large oak door barren of any decoration apart from a single shield and crossed swords.

Hurricane’s magenta eyes wandered up, up the iron shield, crafted in the old forges before the invention of skysteel, and across the paint adorning its surface. A single gladius was painted on it, hilt at the bottom point of the shield, with a cyclone swirling around the blade just above the crossguard. The weapon itself seemed almost alive, its edges wreathed in crackling electricity that was all too poorly weathering the passage of time. It was the Stormblade family crest, passed from father to son within Hurricane’s family for centuries. It was one of the few things he’d managed to save from his home in Zephyrus when the griffons burnt it down.

“Dad,” Hurricane murmured, his eyes fixed on the shield, “if you could see me now… what would you think? Would you be proud of me?”

“I think he would be.”

Hurricane jumped at the mare’s voice and he reached for a sword that wasn’t there. Whirling around, he stared down the figure approaching him and spread his wings. It was another second before he recognized her, and his feathers began to settle back against his sides.

“You’ve done more than anypony ever could have asked of you,” Third Sister said, striding closer. “There’s hardly a single other pony alive that could have done the things you’ve done. None would’ve been able to succeed when they were as young as you were.”

Relaxing slightly, Hurricane took a deep breath. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Third Sister answered

Hurricane regarded her impersonally. The unicorn thestral matched him, her fangs peeking out over her lower lip and her slitted gold eyes meeting his, unwavering. Though she tried to hide it, the rest of her body wasn’t nearly as calm as her face, and her left forehoof pawed the ground ever so subtly. Though the motion would’ve gone unnoticed by most ponies, Hurricane’s eyes were still sharp enough to notice.

“Not interested,” Hurricane muttered, pushing the door open and stepping inside. “I’d rather be by myself.”

“Would you, though?” Third Sister’s question brought a pause into his step, and Hurricane turned around again to see that the mare hadn’t budged. She still watched him with that neutral mask, but the nervous tick was only getting worse. “You seem like you need a friend.”

Hurricane’s eyes narrowed at her. “We’ve hardly met.”

“I know,” she admitted. Her façade cracked, and her eyes darted around the short, empty hallway before resettling on Hurricane. “Everypony’s gotta start somewhere, right?”

The stallion studied her a few seconds longer. Sighing, he waved a wing at her before walking into his room. Third Sister released a nearly inaudible exhale of relief and trotted in after him.

Commander Hurricane’s quarters were surprisingly sparse for one of Equestria’s triumviri. His bed was decidedly nimban, barely large enough to hold two ponies, and was blanketed with threadbare gray sheets and covers. The furnishings were similarly simple, with only two high-backed chairs flanking a small wooden round table adding any sort of interest to the room. A wardrobe closet in one end of the room was covered in dust, most likely unused for five years, and the walls were all bare stone. Only two things inside the room itself seemed like they had any attention paid to them; an armor stand upon which rested Hurricane’s legendary armor and sword, and a monolithic oil portrait of Hurricane, Swift Spear, and their two children standing in front of the emperor’s palace in Cloudsdale. All four of the ponies were wearing their armor, despite their formal poses; the artist’s signature in the bottom corner dated it to only one year before the Blizzard.

Taking a seat in one chair, Hurricane gestured for Third Sister to do the same. The thestral nodded and sat down, offering her host a small ‘thank you’. Surveying the room once more, the thestral made an attempt to break the awkward silence. “So… nice place you have here.”

“Thanks,” Hurricane said, humoring her. He pointed with a wing to a pair of wooden doors facing towards the east. “I’ve always preferred the balcony, though. The few hours of the week that I’m here and not dealing with official Legion business, I like to relax outside with a book.”

The thestral hummed. “It is a nice night outside.” Her horn glowed red, and a corresponding aura illuminated the handles on the balcony doors. “May I?”

“Please, be my guest,” Hurricane said dismissively. Nodding, Third Sister opened the doors, letting the warm twilight air into the tower. Hurricane sighed a bit and his wings relaxed as the warm air permeated his coat. “Summer… it was always her favorite season.”

Third Sister’s fanged teeth bit down on her lip. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s... old history,” Hurricane muttered, though the tone in his voice told otherwise. “What about you?”

“Well, a few years ago, I would’ve said winter,” Third Sister answered. “But due to recent developments, I’d have to say summer. The warmth is… nice.”

Hurricane hummed an acknowledgment. “After what I went through in the Blizzard five years back, I don’t think I can ever appreciate another winter. Too much cold. Too much death.” He leaned back in his chair. “Imagine gray skies, where the sun didn’t shine for weeks. Temperatures that dropped lower and lower, until the clouds were too cold to even touch, until a legionary’s armor would cover in ice in seconds. Imagine—”

“I was there,” Third Sister interrupted him, faintly amused. “I remember everything.”

“You were?” Hurricane asked. He frowned and studied the thestral’s features again. Her slitted eyes. Her fanged jaws. Her razor sharp horn. “Luna made it sound like you never left the Mountain of Dawn.”

Third Sister sighed. “There’s a long story in there, believe it or not. I lived in River Rock, and I marched with the rest of you to Everfree. I only moved to the Mountain three years ago.”

The commander blinked. “How come we’ve never heard of thestrals before, then?”

“I wasn’t always a thestral,” Third Sister said. “None of us were born this way.” She flashed him a smile, her fangs making it somewhat ghastly in appearance. “I used to be a regular unicorn. I worked at an orphanage caring for all the lost and abandoned unicorn foals of River Rock. Believe me when I say that I knew what sort of horrors the Blizzard brought on all of us.”

“So what happened?” Hurricane asked. “How’d you change?”

“I died.”

Hurricane was momentarily at a loss for words. “What?”

“I got stabbed in the chest and bled out in a ditch in the middle of the night,” Third Sister explained as nonchalantly as if she were describing the weather. “When I died, I was a regular unicorn mare. Silver coat, silver and green mane, pretty blue eyes. Now, obviously, I’m not.” She smiled softly, dangerously. “I have the Mis—err, I have Luna to thank for that.”

“But you’re sitting here, talking to me right now,” Hurricane protested. “So you can’t really be dead.”

“Can’t I? My heart isn’t beating. I don’t need to breathe. My body is cold.” She tapped a hoof against her chin. “Let’s see, how do I make this simple for you? A thestral is born when a not-so-good yet not-so-bad pony dies in the middle of the night. Rather than damn us to Tartarus because we were a little too ‘evil’ or ‘selfish’ in life, Luna gives us a chance to earn a place in the Summer Lands. All we have to do is serve her for a hundred years. So… here I am.”

Hurricane regarded her for a few moments. “Can I ask what you did?”

“Me?” Third Sister asked, as if there were somepony else to whom Hurricane could have been referring. “I’m really not supposed to talk about my past life, honestly; Lady Luna forbids it. But, seeing as how I’ve already broken that rule...” She looked around as if she expected her mistress to be standing on the balcony. “I suppose I can talk about it, if you promise she won’t hear about this.”

“I don’t see any reason to at the moment,” Hurricane answered. “It won’t leave this room.”

The thestral visibly relaxed. “Well, I told you that I worked in an orphanage. We’d see all sorts of ponies come in, thinking they wanted to adopt a foal. River Rock never really had any laws on adoption; ponies could just waltz in, sign a form, and leave with a foal. It didn’t matter what their reasons were; once a foal walked out our doors, there wasn’t anything we could do to look after them.

“All I wanted was to make sure that our foals were safe when they left our doors, so I’d spend a few days and nights after each adoption spying on the new family. Most were happy enough, and that made me happy too.” She smiled wistfully at a few nearly forgotten memories. Then her expression darkened. “There were others, though, that were just… evil. Ponies who’d adopt fillies and raise them to serve in harems or be prostitutes. ‘Parents’ that adopted colts for slave labor. I saw those cases and I… I couldn’t let them do that. So I… removed them, and brought the kids back.”

The dark stallion furrowed his brow. “You murdered those ponies?”

Third Sister sighed and nodded. “I always told myself I was doing it for a good cause. I never hesitated. But nopony’s forgiving of cold-blooded murder—not even Luna. I died trying to save a filly from a couple that was trying to sell her into slavery. When I made my case before Lunis, she… reanimated me so I could finish the job. Then I became like this. It was weird at first—really weird—but I’ve gotten used to it.” She gave another terrifying smile. “I keep up with the orphanage when I’m in town, and follow all the ponies I helped find good homes to make sure they’re doing all right. Not even death will take those kids’ guardian angel from them.”

“That’s… admirable,” Hurricane said.

“Thank you,” Third Sister answered. Sighing, she leaned back. “So that’s my story. Anything else you’d like to know?”

Hurricane was silent for a moment. “What was it like?” he finally asked, softly.

Third Sister raised an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

The stallion kept his eyes fixed on hers. “You know what I mean.”

The thestral bit her lip and looked out the balcony doors. “It… it’s scary at first,” she finally answered. “You’re never really ready to die, even if you think you are, and especially when you realize you will. In the end, though, there wasn’t any pain. There wasn’t any anger. Just… acceptance. Acceptance and forgiveness. And then it was like sleeping. A long, long sleep, which you know you’ll never wake up from. But that’s okay. In that last moment, you’re finally okay with it. You’re finally at peace. Then… it’s over.”

Her slitted golden eyes sparkled with moisture that refused to fall. A few blinks of her lashes later and it was gone. She cast sad eyes at the pegasus across from her. “Does that answer your question, Hurricane?”

“Yes…” Hurricane whispered. “Yes, it does.” He took a deep breath and forced the emotion down. It was exactly what he wanted to hear. To know that she’d passed in peace… maybe now he could let go, five years later. “Thank you, Third Sister,” he said, keeping his eyes averted from the thestral’s face.

Third Sister reached across the table and gently took one of Hurricane’s hooves in her own. “Please… Aurora’s just fine.”

Iron Rain and Pathfinder wandered the network of subterranean caverns, their wingtips brushing along the right side of the stony walls. All around them, water dripped off of stalactites into murky puddles, echoing across the dark and damp caves. The occasional squeak of a bat or a rat broke the monotony of falling water and clopping hooves, and the deeper the two ponies dove under Everfree, the heavier the air settled around them.

“I don’t like this.”

“It’s a nice cave, if you’d spend the time to get to know it,” Pathfinder muttered, flicking Rain’s snout with his tail. “What’s bothering you?”

“There’s no such thing as a nice cave, Finder.” Rain said with an irritated sigh, her eyes darting around the small circle of light from the flame she carried on the opposite wingtip. “Something isn’t adding up here. Marigold is an errand pony; why would they let her know where their base of operations is? You don’t do that unless you want to be found.”

“You don’t honestly believe Marigold still works for these ponies, do you?” Finder asked, an edge of concern creeping into his voice. “They were trying pretty hard to kill her, unless you’d forgotten.”

“If you’re trying to kill somepony, you don’t try and drown them. You cut their throat and toss the corpse in the river.” Rain shook her head, the flame on her wing flickering from the motion. “If I didn’t know better, Finder, I’d think they were putting on a show for us.”

“Why? If nopony showed up, then they would’ve killed a mare and her three children, which would’ve gotten the Guard involved and set off a lynchmob. Best case scenario they pick off a couple more legionaries.” Finder shook his head and grunted. “Besides, they got several of their own killed. It doesn’t make sense.”

The iron mare lowered her head and took two large steps so she was walking side by side with her husband. “That’s my point, Finder. We haven’t found anypony important since we started skulking around down here. No blood, no tracks, not so much as a shed hair.”

“Not true,” Finder said, shaking his head. “There was that branch a ways back that had torches in it.”

Rain allowed herself a half-amused snort. “I said ‘important’. A group of smugglers trying to get wares from Platinum’s Landing into the city without paying taxes is well below our pay grade.”

“Do you think we’re walking into a trap?” Finder asked, looking Rain in the eye as they came to a stop.

Again, the Nimban mare shook her head. Her hoof came up to rub at the back of her neck where her helmet had been awkwardly pressing into her flesh. “I don’t know. It just…” she sighed again, her hoof lowering back to the stone ground with a soft clop. “It doesn’t feel right, you know?”

“Rain,” Finder began, lifting his hoof to her cheek and gently guiding her gaze to his. “Are you worried about us, or the kids?” The scout’s eyes went wide, cold talons of fear clutching at his heart for the briefest of moments. “You don’t think they’d track Marigold to our home, do you?”

Rain placed her hoof over Finder’s, and just for a moment she closed her eyes and nuzzled into his touch. “No, nothing like that. Besides, Shimmer’s a good girl and a better fighter than I was at her age.” She offered a reassuring smile to her husband, her hoof softly rubbing his. “It’s the strategy that worries me. Why would they go through all this hassle if they just wanted to kill soldiers? Why would they leave an entrance to their base completely unguarded?” Rain gave another shake of her head, releasing Finder’s hoof from under hers. “Please, tell me I’m just being paranoid, tell me this whole setup doesn’t rub you the wrong way too?”

Finder sighed. “You’re not wrong, Rain. There’s nothing about this that passes the smell test, but what else could we do?” Finder motioned with his wing for them to resume walking. “This is our best option to find Typhoon. At the very least we’ve cleared a few tunnels we don’t have to worry about.” He craned his neck, scanning the stalactites hanging above them as they walked deeper into the heart of Everfree. “We’ll just have to be on our guard.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Rain muttered behind him, her wings twitching at her sides. She turned to the side and raised her uninjured wing, lining the bladed edges with the stone. With a shrill scrape, she slashed her wingblades against the stone, scoring two vertical lines slashed by a horizontal line trailing off in the direction they’d come from.

“You really don’t need to do that,” Finder groaned, his ears flattening against his head.

“I really don’t need to get lost in a cave, either.”

Finder smiled and touched his brow. “I have the map all in here, honey.”

“Uh huh.”

“What, you don’t trust me?” He shook his head and kept walking. “You do realize my mark is a compass, right? And I didn’t get to be a scout-centurion through my good looks and charming personality.” Waving his wing, he began to descend another ramp. “Now come on, we have places to be.”

Rain frowned at him, her eyes narrowing on his diminishing form. Growling, she stomped a hoof and quickly fluttered after him. “I hate caves.”

The ramp angled downwards for another hundred feet, and both Rain and Finder glided along so they wouldn’t have to step in the mossy slime lining the stone. The moisture that’d worn out the ramp over millennia glistened in the tiny flame Rain carried on her wing, almost like a trail of stars sliding into the heart of the earth.

The next cavern the pair entered was considerably larger than the last. Stalactites hanging from the ceiling created something akin to a curtain, mirrored from below by a large pond suspended in a timeless tranquility. Wandering closer, however, the legionaries realized that the stillness wasn’t from the water; the entire surface of the pond was covered in a sheet of slowly thawing ice. A few quick flaps of Pathfinder’s wings brought him closer, and he landed at the edge of the ice sheet, his eyes narrowing on its frosty surface. “Gods above?”

“Well. That’s certainly different,” Rain commented, striding up behind him. Poking at the sheet, she frowned and put some weight on it. “It’s thick and sturdy, too. And still blisteringly cold.”

“Empatha,” Finder muttered, stepping onto the surface. The ice didn’t even squeak as his armored weight stressed its gloss. “This was made by a strong empath, and not more than a few hours ago.” His eyes fell back to Rain, and the mare nodded in agreement.

“Only Typhoon’s strong enough to do something like this,” she concluded, joining Pathfinder on the ice. She looked around the cave, noting a small tunnel with a torch in its mouth. “She must’ve been trying to escape… but why spend so much energy freezing an entire pond?”

Finder looked down at his hooves, and his sharp eyes quickly picked apart the details. They widened slightly at his conclusion, and he pointed down at the frosty ice he was standing on. “She didn’t freeze the entire pond… just the first few inches.”

Raising an eyebrow, Rain slid across the ice to Pathfinder and narrowed her eyes. “Is… is that a pony down there?”

The body was nearly impossible to pick out through the murky ice and poor lighting, but Finder could see the stallion’s orange coat and armored body resting at the bottom of the pond. The color of his helmet plume told him that the soldier was a centurion. “Centurion. You recognize him?”

“Corona,” Rain answered. “He and three other centurions went into the choke at about the same time Typhoon did, and none of them reported back. Unlike with Typhoon, there weren’t any signs of a struggle, as far as we could tell. They just up and disappeared.” She raised her head again and began to stalk towards the torch-lit tunnel. “At least we know what happened to them now. But the question remains…”

“Why?” Finder asked for her, regarding the corpse one last time before rejoining his wife. “I’m not sure. I don’t think we’ll ever be sure until we find Typhoon. I really hope it’s not just the rebels playing sick games with our soldiers.” He shook his head. “Whatever it is, it needs to stop, and the best way to do that is to get Typhoon away from them.”

The echo of voices off of the walls of the cavern gave Finder and Rain just enough time to dive behind a stalagmite, putting the stone column between them and the lit tunnel. Nodding to Rain, Finder channeled his Empatha into his coat, his faded green fur changing to a gray and brown identical to the rocks they were up against. Slowly, ever so slowly, Finder peered around the edge of the stalagmite, his helmetless skull pressed flat against the column.

Two ponies emerged from the tunnel, one a gray unicorn and the other a gray earth pony. Their coats almost let them fade away against the stone; were it not for the flickering lights casting shadows on their bodies, even Finder might not have noticed them. Both had blue eyes and walked with a similar stiff gait… brothers, perhaps? At any rate, Finder knew they were on lookout with how their eyes slowly traced every contour of the cavern. When the unicorn’s eyes scanned his stalagmite he flattened his ears against his head and closed his eyes, all but disappearing into terrain. No alarm was raised, no hooves stirred, and after a few moments, Finder opened his eyes again.

The two ponies began talking to each other in hushed tones now; normally, Finder would’ve been able to drop in on their conversation with ease, but the Empatha turning his ears to stone all but deafened him. Thankfully, Rain didn’t have that problem. Taking a deep breath, she shut her eyes and focused on the air between her and the guards. She couldn’t just hear them clearly; her wind Empatha tuned her into the vibrations in the air to the point where she could feel what they were saying.

“…exercise this morning?” one the unicorn was saying just as Rain honed herself in on their conversation.

“Abaddon said everything went accordingly,” the earth pony answered. Rain’s brow furrowed. The two ponies sounded almost identical, and picking their voices apart was surprisingly difficult. “I saw her myself when it was over. She looked convicted then. That means the mistress is a step closer to executing her takeover.”

“Good. Just one final fight until we’re finished with her. That means we can get out of here and move someplace drier.” The sound of rattling armor. “I’ve had it with the moisture clinging to everything down here. Everything’s so slimy, and you have to clean weapons and armor around the clock so they don’t rust. Shouldn’t skysteel be above that?”

“Beats me. The pegasi make it, and good luck getting more of them to join Her.”

“We’ll have to start converting them, then.”

“I’d say today’s display was a perfect demonstration of how well it works.”

“Mmm.”

Rain opened her eyes, hearing their hooves begin to clop along the stone floor. She touched Finder’s shoulder and the stallion nodded, slowly slinking around the stalagmite. As the pair of guards wandered back down the hall, Finder and Rain shadowed them, peering down the long hall and noting its numerous branches. The unicorn and earth pony rounded a corner about halfway down the tunnel on the right, leaving the two Cirrans to emerge in the newly vacated hallway.

“What now?” Rain asked, eyeing the doors along the left side and the branches along the right. “Follow them?”

Finder nodded. “I’ll track them through the stone. They say anything interesting?”

“None of it sounded too good,” Rain admitted. “They were saying something about ‘conversion’ again.”

“Like what Steel Plow said?”

Rain nodded. “They had to have been talking about Typhoon. They said something about ‘one final fight.’ Don’t know what they mean about that.”

“Do you think it has to do with Centurion Corona?”

The legate shuddered. “I hope not, but regardless, let’s make sure there isn’t a final fight.”

Finder blew air between his teeth. “Alright. Let’s take a look at a few of these doors in the meanwhile, and then we’ll follow our lead again.”

“Right.” Following the well-lit passageway, Rain peered through the bars in the doors to numerous empty spaces on the other side, and all of the doors were unlocked. One room in particular, however, just before the branch in the hall brought pause to her steps. “Finder?”

Waving her wing, she motioned for the stallion to join her. Two solid clicks of his stone hooves against the stone tunnel brought him over. Gesturing to the door, Rain pushed it open so the light from the hallway could illuminate the interior. Several patches of melting ice and scorch marks filled the room, and a cot at the far corner was disheveled as if it’d been slept in recently.

“Typhoon fought here,” Finder observed, noting the ice and ashes. “And against a fire empath, too.”

“Corona,” Rain concluded. “And two others,” she added, pointing out the separate bloodstains in the chamber.

Finder took a step back and furrowed his brow. “So three, maybe four ponies attacked her here… and then took the fight outside where she ended it at the lake.” He scowled. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“She was attacked while she was captive?” Rain asked, confused.

“Yeah, and apparently she was able to escape and continue the fight outside. Or did she attack her guards when they came to feed her or something, and she fought her way out?”

Rain shook her head. “No… this is really weird.” She wandered over to the door and flicked the latch with a wing. “These doors lock from the inside. She’d be able to lock ponies out of her room if she wanted.”

Finder shook his head, his eyebrows arching. “That’s not how you keep a prisoner contained. It’s almost like—” He stopped, his eyes beginning to light up. “Gods…”

The gray mare came to the same conclusion almost as soon as he did. “Do you think they really—?”

“Really what?”

The third voice startled the both of them, and they whirled towards the door to see a single unicorn with a black horn and blue eyes standing in front of them. He wore a heavy cloak across his shoulders, obscuring the rest of his body but leaving enough revealed to pronounce his strong build. His blue eyes watched the two ponies with a mixture of amusement and caution.

A dark smile pulled at Rain’s lips, and she advanced on the unicorn with her bladed wings extended. “I don’t know, maybe you can clue us in?” she asked, her voice dangerously saccharine and cheery.

The unicorn remained confident, not flinching or drawing back as the mare closed in on him. “Perhaps we’ll get to that when the time comes,” he answered, his voice cool and calm. “I figure we should have a demonstration on our hooves soon enough.”

Rain’s smile twisted into scorn and anger. “What have you bastards done with Typhoon?” A shrug of her shoulders edged her zweihoofer closer to her cheek, ready to be drawn at the slightest tug. “Make this easy and I’ll make your death quick.”

“Rain…” Finder warned from deeper in the room. “Careful…”

“I would listen to your husband, Legate Rain,” Abaddon said. “This isn’t a fight you’d want to pursue.”

The mare hesitated, seemingly fighting with her inner nature to simply behead the unicorn in front of her with a massive sweep of her sword. Growling, she took a step back and waved a wing. “C’mon, Finder, let’s end this ass—!”

Green magic suddenly wrapped around her body and flung her backwards, limbs flailing, into the cell. Pathfinder stepped into the way and caught her, teeth grinding as he exerted his Empatha to give him the earth pony-like strength needed to stop the muscular mare and all her armor. Rain jumped out of his grasp and landed on her hooves, immediately charging Abaddon with Finder at her side. Abaddon’s horn illuminated once more, and both pegasi felt their hooves freeze mid-gallop. Finder grunted as he tripped and fell, his stony jaw releasing a resounding clack when it hit the floor. Rain maintained her balance and flung herself forward with her wings. Both she and the unicorn were left with limbs flailing when she tackled him out of the cell.

Finder felt the magic leave his legs, and immediately he was back on his hooves, rushing to Rain’s aid. The mare wrestled with Abaddon, keeping the smaller black unicorn pinned under her bulky weight as she slammed his skull into the wall. Abaddon groaned with each impact, grimacing as he tried to build up the concentration to cast a spell. When Rain was about to ram his horn into the stone again, however, the unicorn spit directly into her eyes, blinding her and buying himself enough time to charge his horn. With a loud pop and a flash of light, he disappeared, reappearing further down the hall. He turned tail and immediately fled down one of the adjoining hallways, his hooves echoing across the stone.

Pathfinder was immediately on his tail. Although the hallway was too narrow to truly fly in, the stallion pumped his wings with each step to rapidly slash the distance between himself and Abaddon. Abaddon glanced over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes at Pathfinder, and the unicorn’s horn lit up. Gritting his teeth, Pathfinder jumped off the ground in case Abaddon tried to lock his legs again. Only too late did he notice that the walls themselves were glowing.

“Shit…”

Huge rocks and chunks of debris exploded outwards from the wall, pelting Finder from all sides. The stallion ducked his head and sheltered it between outstretched wings as rocks the size of bricks slammed into his armor and his flanks, but nevertheless he pushed forward and out of the deathtrap. Most of the debris deflected harmlessly off of his stone coat, and the rocks that pelted the wound along his side didn’t drop him in crippling pain. In only a few seconds, it was over, but when Pathfinder finally managed to get a glimpse through the dust and the rubble, Abaddon was nearly out of sight.

A roar of air preceded Iron Rain as she launched herself over Pathfinder’s head. Her Empatha gave her the wind she needed to fly down the hallway without fully extending her wings; ducking low, Finder let her pass, then stopped in the middle of the hall. His eyes narrowed in Abaddon’s direction, and with a deep breath, he channeled his magic into the earth. He could feel the floor and walls ahead of Abaddon as if he was touching them with his own hooves, and his focus shifted to a weak point in the tunnel. Shouting with exertion, Finder forced the stone to rise and slam together, sealing off any access further down the hall just as Abaddon’s nose bumped into it.

The unicorn charged his horn to teleport, but Rain reached him first. She tackled him again and slashed at his horn with a wing. Still charged with the mana he needed to teleport, Abaddon was able throw up a sheet of magic around his horn, holding back Rain’s wingblade by a few inches.. A telekinetic shove was all he needed to force the mare back, buying him enough space to channel another spell. The field of emerald force launched away from his horn and wrapped over Rain’s face., The legate gagged, finding herself suddenly unable to breathe.

Abaddon’s features hardened as he strangled the life out of Rain, forcing the mare to her knees. As darkness encroached on the corners of her vision, Rain’s eyes chanced upon a sizeable piece of debris. Desperately lunging to the side, she grabbed the stone in a fetlock and hurled it at Abaddon. The unicorn had been so intent on suffocating Rain that he didn’t see the stone until it was too late. Shouting, he stumbled back and clutched his horn. His magic suddenly dissipated as blood dribbled down his brow.

Finder took Rain’s place, and with the same magic that allowed him to block off the tunnel behind Abaddon, he forced the floor to rise up like claws, rooting the unicorn’s hooves in place. Abaddon struggled with his earthen shackles for a few seconds, but then his eyes caught sight of something over Finder’s shoulder. Drawing his eyes back towards the centurion, Abaddon abruptly relaxed and watched Finder approach. Finder stopped a few feet away from the unicorn and drew his sword.

“Going somewhere?” the pegasus asked, keeping one eye on Abaddon’s horn.

“A simple relocation,” Abaddon answered. There was no worry, no hesitation in his voice. It made Finder feel uneasy, even when Rain trotted up to his side.

“No magic or you lose your horn,” Finder warned him. “Where were you going?”

“Where else would I be going?” the unicorn asked, smiling. “To get help of course.”

Rain scoffed. “And you said this would be a fight we shouldn’t pursue.”

Abaddon laughed, making Finder’s mane stand on end. “Oh no, I didn’t mean our fight.” He smiled and gestured with his muzzle over both of their shoulders. “I meant this fight.”

The Cirran couple immediately whirled in place, expecting to find a dozen, maybe two dozen rebels waiting for them. Instead, they were greeted by one pony, her black Praetorian armor freshly polished and the blue skysteel sword in her grasp leaving vapor trails from the moisture in the air. She stalked forward with anger and malice, but the most striking feature of all was her eyes. Instead of the piercing magenta irises, the mare’s eyes were an emerald green that seemed to bleed over into the sclera.

“Typhoon?” Rain started forward, closing the distance between the two of them. “What are you doing here?” When Typhoon didn’t answer, Rain stopped, her feathers rising in worry. Squinting, she finally noticed Typhoon’s eyes, and she took a step back. “Gods… what did they do to you?”

“Get. Away. From him,” Typhoon growled, her green eyes narrowed on Rain and Finder. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“The conversion,” Finder muttered under his breath.

A filthy smile grew across Abaddon’s face. “Ah, so you have heard of that?” he asked. “Steel Plow did his job then. I’m so happy you finally get to see it in action.”

Finder whirled to face the unicorn. “What do you mean?” he hissed, pressing Ensis closer to Abaddon’s neck.

Abaddon laughed. “Did you think you were the ones making the rules? That you were the ones taking the initiative, not us? Our spies are so deeply implanted in your Legion that I see everything. Every step that you’ve taken, I planned. Every action my followers took, I ordered. Did you think that we wouldn’t recognize two of the highest profile legionaries in all of Cirra crossing the Choke? That Steel Plow threatening that wretched thief in plain sight of you was an accident?” He smiled wider, making Finder grit his teeth in worry. “Or that you somehow made it this far into our base without being detected?

“Rest assured, we’ve been watching you the whole way, just so that you can tell Hurricane about what you’ve seen here. With Typhoon as a defector, we should see a whole slew of milites following in her hoofsteps. That’s when the game’s finally over.”

Pathfinder ground his teeth. “That’s despicable!” He turned around to see Rain and Typhoon squaring off, Typhoon’s wings opened threateningly and Rain taking small, unsure steps backwards, her own wings adopting a defensive stance. “Rain, get her. I’ll take care of this bastard here. Maybe Star Swirl can help undo whatever they’ve done to her.”

“You will not take me to him!” Typhoon screeched, stomping her hoof on the ground. Ice shot out from under it, and Rain flung herself to the side without hesitation. Even before her hooves had left the ground, a razor sharp icicle sprung up from under her; only the speed of her reflexes kept her from being impaled by Typhoon’s Empatha. Still, the mare was off-balance, and Typhoon lunged forward and caught Rain as she tried to recover. The smaller blond mare tackled the larger gray legate, knocking Rain flat onto her back, wings flailing as she struggled to regain balance. A bladed wing whistled through the air, but Rain carried the momentum back and managed to kick Typhoon away before it connected with her throat. Snarling, Typhoon pushed off of the ceiling and landed by Abaddon’s side, thrusting Hiems Osculum between the stallion’s neck and Pathfinder’s sword. With a step forward and a pump of her wings, she shoved the stone-coated pegasus away.

A flash of magic allowed Abaddon to teleport out of the earthen shackles Pathfinder had summoned around his hooves. Placing a hoof on Typhoon’s shoulder, he locked eyes with Pathfinder. “I think your friends have overstayed their welcome, Typhoon. It’s time that they leave.”

“They’re not my friends,” the mare hissed. Pathfinder stared at her, pleading, but even the older stallion withered under her glare. “They’re with him.”

Abaddon smiled, flashing disturbingly white teeth. “In that case… make sure you leave one alive. Somepony has to tell Star Swirl that you’re coming for him.”

“Typhoon, please,” Finder pleaded, “Don’t listen to him. This is all in your head. He’s screwing with your mind!”

Typhoon sneered at him. “Lies! They saved me! They saved me from him!” She stomped a hoof forward, ice radiating out and covering the stone floor in frost. “And you’re with him! I already killed three that he sent after me, and I’ll kill you, too!”

Rain grabbed Finder’s shoulder and pulled him back. “They’ve already broken her, Finder. They used Corona and the others to make her turn her back on us. She needs to see Star Swirl, needs to see somepony who can fix this.”

Finder squeezed his eyes shut. “We can’t just leave her! Not like this!”

Shouting farther down one of the halls made the couple’s heads turn, and Rain began to drag Finder backwards. “We have to go, Finder! We have to go, now!”

“But—!”

“They have the advantage and the situation’s changed!” Rain shouted, continuing to drag Finder back down the hall. “If we don’t move, we aren’t gonna make it out of here in one piece! We’re leaving! Now!”

Finder bit his lip, desperately staring at Typhoon and Abaddon just fifteen feet away. The mare’s sickly green eyes pierced through his armor with a burning, unnatural hatred, and he could see her leaning against Abaddon’s hoof like a dog waiting to be loosed on an enemy. Setting his hooves under him, he began to backpedal with Rain. “Fight it, Typhoon!” he cried, trying to penetrate whatever magic that was distorting her eyes with his own. “Don’t let them fool you! Think of your father! Think of Tempest! He’s waiting for his mama back at the castle!”

One final jerk of Rain’s forelimb sent the stallion reeling around the corner. Typhoon twitched at her son’s name, and for a moment her eyes flashed back to their normal magenta color. When Abaddon tightened his hoof against her shoulder, however, it disappeared entirely, and the emerald resurfaced. Again she tensed against his shoulder, but Abaddon shook his head. “Not now, Typhoon. They’ll tell Star Swirl about what they saw here. There’ll be unrest; discord. The Praetorian will search for the truth; with your father out of the picture, they’ll be searching for their next leader. They’ll start searching for you.

“And when they do… that’s when you show yourself to them. That’s when you take back the Legion and this nightmare will be over.”

Chapter 9: The Rising Sun

Everfree awoke that morning to the sound of drums. Drums marching out from the castle. Drums filling the streets with their sharp percussion. Drums echoing off of stone and brick and mortar, stirring a city that had been holding its breath for this day into motion.

The drums were a Cirran military style used for marching and formations, but instead of the harsh and intimidating stomp of an occupying force’s hooves, these drums were accompanied by fanfare. Trumpets, horns, clarions; all blared their brassy voices into the sky, providing something that sounded strangely like music.

Ponies stuck their heads out of windows or looked up from where they were standing. A few muttered to each other in disquieted voices. Many simply stopped whatever they were doing and began to move down the streets. As the sounds of drums and horns drew closer, a sizeable crowd had gathered up and down Mane Street, eyes fixated on the procession marching out of the Everfree castle.

It wasn’t a military parade for some triumph or the heavy march of thousands of legionary hooves as a show of strength, and that was what surprised the ponies of Everfree the most. Instead, they were greeted by the sight of a proud cohort of Cirran legionaries marching down the street, armor polished to a blinding shine and in a perfectly synchronized high step gait, surrounded by performers and acrobats. Mares and stallions of all races twirled and danced around one another, encouraging the ponies on the sidelines to join them and smile. Unicorns in formal military garb followed the armored Cirran legionaries, holding all sorts of instruments to their lips with their magic as they marched along. Their music filled the air, imbuing the city with the mirth that it’d been lacking for so long.

The bystanders gawked at the parade as it marched past them. To them, this display of joviality was… different. Alien. For many, the riots and bitterness of the past six months—of the past five years even—had become so deeply ingrained in Equestrian society that the thought of something contrary was impossible to comprehend. That Equestria could be this happy seemed like something out of a dream. Despite the Chancellor spreading the word that there would be a parade to welcome a new dawn for Equestria, many Equestrians simply couldn’t believe what they were seeing.

Until, that is, a pegasus mare in a glittering golden dress broke off from the parade, grabbed an earth pony by the hoof, and led the stallion into the middle of the dance without missing a beat.

And the city began to smile.

Within minutes, the ponies of Everfree had dropped whatever they were doing to be one with the music and the happiness. Storefronts closed, their owners hastily shutting their doors behind them as they wandered into the streets, took one another by the shoulders, and trotted into Mane Street side by side. Foals scampered out of shuttered houses at the behest of their parents, meeting their neighbors and galloping down the streets in merry troupes of youth. Their squealing filled the city with a childish warmth, raw and happy and pure.

A series of loud cracks and bangs overhead sent a few ponies ducking for cover. In seconds, however, the giggling of foals and their outstretched hooves showed the explosions for what they really were; beautiful fireworks of every kind and color streaking through the skies, detonating in a shimmer of sparkles and streaming colors. From the rooftops, dozens of unicorns coordinated in using their magic to fill the sky with explosions of color and noise. Showers of color filled the sky, but their significance was lost on almost everypony, engrossed by the splendor and frivolity surrounding them. Black, gold, purple, red, green, white and blue.

While the significance of the chromatic display might have escaped the notice of most ponies, the results surely did not. As the the final two bursts of color and sound filled the heavens, gasps of wonder and delight rose from the crowd. Above them, massive, incredibly detailed busts of two alicorns blossomed to life.

However impressive as the display was, though, it paled in comparison to the two ponies at the heart of the parade currently underway. As the Sisters passed among the throng, many bowed low, their noses brushing the ground. Many more stood completely still, staring at the Sisters in a mixture of shock and awe. Still others whispered to each other, their faces anything from frightened to confused to stern as they watched the two alicorns make their way down the street.

Indeed, the Sisters looked absolutely stunning. Celestia’s mane hung in at her side, the ends bound in gold circlets which jostled in the flowing ethereal breeze that followed her no matter where she went. Her pristine white coat was covered in a robe of white silk and gold trim, and golden horseshoes protected her hooves from the grime of the city streets. Every feather along each of her magnificent wings was preened to perfection, with not a single barb out of line. Golden thread tied the base of her tail together, but the end billowed freely as she walked, and everywhere ponies were trying to get just a touch of the soft hairs. Celestia didn’t seem to mind at all, and while she spared a few gentle words with everypony she could, only the necessity and momentum of the parade kept her moving forward.

At her side, Luna stood with a wildly fierce, almost intimidating beauty of her own, equal in magnitude but wholly hers. She wore a black dress with blue trim to match her coat, but unlike Celestia’s gentle outfit, Luna’s projected power. The collar was high backed and flared, and her mane was braided and bound into something resembling a warrior’s hairstyle. Her horseshoes were both midnight blue and onyx black in the light, with the toe caliper extending up the leg to form a combat bracer protecting the fetlock and shin. Her black dress was lined with black metal ringlets that glittered in the morning light. The flowing blues and purples of her starry tail were tightly bound with a silver cord, keeping it stiff and arched—again, like a warrior mare. Ponies did not try to touch her tail or her wings like they did her sister, but it was clear that Luna commanded their respect. They bowed to her far more than they did the white alicorn as she passed.

As the two alicorns walked side by side towards the city center, ponies couldn’t help but notice the duality the Sisters were projecting. Celestia was kind, loving, and supportive; Luna demanded respect, cooperation, and civility. Together, the alicorns simultaneously drew love from, and instilled obedience in, the ponies surrounding them.

Behind the pair marched Equestria’s triumvirate, Commander Hurricane with his onyx armor sucking up more light than should be possible, Queen Platinum with her ivory coat whiter and purer than ever, and Chancellor Puddinghead with the biggest, most towering hat he had in his collection. Compared to the alicorns in front, however, they drew no attention or fanfare from the crowd.

A few minutes turned into fifteen just for the two alicorns to push through the crowd trying to get closer, to bow at the hooves of their goddesses, or maybe even touch them. Eventually, it was Luna who urged her older sister onwards, pressing a fan of midnight blue feathers against Celestia’s shoulders. Celestia reluctantly separated from the crowd and ascended the steps in front of the fountain depicting the Equestrian triumvirate. A perimeter of legionaries kept the crowd off of the fountain, square shields planted firmly in the dust. As Hurricane and his peers safely climbed up the steps and behind the wall of shields, the Cirran commander breathed a sigh of relief.

The music from the parade hit one final crescendo and then died off, but the quiet roar of the crowd didn’t. Even as Commander Hurricane raised his wings for silence in a crisp military display, it still took several seconds for the prayers, proclamations of love, and cries of fealty to die down. When it did, however, Platinum stepped forward.

“Equestrians!” Platinum cried, waiting for the last murmurs to dwindle to silence. The volume the slender mare could muster was rather impressive. “Today is a special day, dare I say a holy day, for our goddesses have graced us with their presence! They have come down from their heavenly perch to be with us in our time of greatest need, as our nation stands on the brink of tearing itself apart. They have promised me that they will save Equestria from ruin, and I have no reason to doubt that they will!” She began turning to the side, gesturing at Celestia and Luna as she continued, “Now, join me in welcoming them to Equestria, home of the Ever-Free!”

Thunderous applause answered her, and together, Celestia and Luna snapped their wings and looked over the assembled ponies with chins held high. Platinum angled herself towards the crowd after a second, quickly flicking her mane back into position with a shake of her head. Her voice took on a weary tone as she resumed her speech. “I know it’s been a rough five years. These past six months have been especially hard on all of us. I’m not going to lie, there were times where I didn’t think there was anything Hurricane, Puddinghead, and I could do.” Here, the snowy mare paused again, taking a short breath before she continued, this time with renewed vigor and a note of clear joy and hope. “But we pulled through, and now the Sisters have come to guide us with their wisdom and glory. Today, a new day for Equestria dawns!”

The crowd roared their agreement, and Platinum turned to smile at the alicorns. “But it does them no service for me to speak for them. So, ponies of Equestria, join me in welcoming Celestis and Lunis, Celeste and Lūn, Celestia and Luna, to Everfree!”

Platinum stepped aside, beckoning for Celestia to advance. The white alicorn took a few lengthy strides forward, applause rising to meet her from the ponies gathered around. Again, Hurricane raised his wings to signal for silence, and again, it took several seconds before it was quiet enough for Celestia to speak.

“Ponies of Equestria!” she proclaimed, her voice somehow both loud enough for everypony assembled to hear her yet quiet enough that they didn’t dare speak amongst themselves for fear of missing what she had to say. “It is a great honor, and I truly mean a great honor, that my sister and I are standing here in front of you after watching you from afar for so long. Long have we awaited this day; a day when earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi would stand together as one, promising themselves and one another that they would give their all to build a nation as great and mighty as this. And what a joy that it is finally upon us, upon you!

“Days ago, my sister and I were visited by a pegasus willing to do whatever it took to save Equestria. To stop this dream of his, and of so many others, from falling to pieces. My sister and I took him in, gave him food and shelter, and listened to what he had to say. He convinced us that your nation, all of you were worth saving. Equestria, a dream of peace and unity for all of ponykind, should not be one that is condemned to fall by the wayside, especially in the City of the Ever-Free.”

Something seemed to click inside of the ponies present, especially at the name of their city. The triumvirate could feel it growing in the crowd. A sense of determination. A glimmer of hope. A feeling of pride. A pride that the ponies of Equestria had once held close to their hearts but had crumbled apart years ago. And here it was again; with Celestia pulling it to the surface of each pony present with mere words.

“I have been told of the unrest in this city; within Equestria as a whole. I have been told of the riots and the anger, of death and grief, and it pains me. It hurts my heart to know that the ponies I cherish so dearly are suffering through this kind of turmoil.” Her expression turned to one of anguish, like a mother watching her child suffer and being powerless to help soothe the pain. “You see me as your goddess, but I demand nothing of you. Instead I only ask you, I beg you, to put aside your needless hatred. Love one another, and find the harmony that this nation was built on.”

Celestia looked out over the crowd, her eyes seeming to rest on everypony present. With a solemn nod, she added, “Do better. That is all I ask of you. I know you can. Let us stand together as one and fashion this glorious dream into a reality.”

Nodding to Luna, the white alicorn gracefully folded her outstretched wings to her sides and took a step back. With a toss of her mane, Luna took her sister’s spot and surveyed the crowd. Her piercing teal eyes swept once across the ponies assembled, quieting the murmurs Celestia’s speech had stirred up. For several seconds, the plaza was dead quiet; not even a foal cried for its mother’s attention. Then, with a voice of clear authority, Luna began to speak. As impressive as Platinum’s volume had been, Luna’s tone made it sound like a mere whisper. Her voice projected power, might, and majesty.

“My sister is right. You must do better.” She took a step forward, eliciting a small flinch from the ponies closest to the fountain. “We must do better. There can be no doubt that what has happened these past six months has been tragic. Incredibly tragic, and incredibly inadmissible. Equestria, you have forgotten what this dream you were founded on represents. Now you only tear yourself to pieces, trudging closer and closer to the abyss with each day. Shame on you for letting it get this way.” Here she stopped, letting her gaze slide slowly over the assembled ponies. Her words flowed through the crowd, leaving ponies recoiling subtly in a silent admission of their own guilt. They cringed and hid their faces in shame under her glare. They knew she was right.

She continued, and while her tone still commanded respect, it was noticeably softer. “But shame on us as well,” she said, earning a few surprised mutterings from the ponies around her. “Shame on us for staying away for so long. Shame on us for thinking that you would be better off without us. We watched from a distance, yes, but all that led to was centuries of conflict, oppression, and hate. Had we acted sooner, perhaps your old land could have been saved.”

Luna paused, gauging the crowd’s response, then took a breath and continued. “But despite our negligence, you have endured. Look at what you have accomplished on your own. This city, Everfree, is a testament to what happens when you all work together. Never have I seen a more glamorous city, a stronger city, than this. The cooperation and collaboration it took to build this city is breathtaking. And you did it. Not I nor my sister. You, ponies of Everfree. Ponies of Equestria. Do not forget what you’ve accomplished in five years. Think of all you can accomplish in five centuries.

“Stand tall. Stand proud. And most importantly of all, stand together.”

The midnight alicorn bowed her head and stepped back, brushing wings with her sister. The two alicorns watched the crowd, wingtips trembling ever so slightly in anxiety. The ponies present murmured to one another, looked from each other to the Sisters, and didn’t move.

Then hooves clopped against the ground, a single pair of hooves echoing against the cobblestone road, the noise reverberating off of the stone buildings surrounding the plaza. A second later, another pair joined in. Then two more, Twenty. A hundred. Within moments, the square was overtaken by applause and cheering so thunderous it was impossible to think. The ground trembled. Flags swayed in the breeze, and so too did the alicorns’ manes as they exchanged relieved glances with each other. Behind them, Queen Platinum visibly wobbled and fanned her face, leaning against the stoic Hurricane for support. Chancellor Puddinghead looked like he was ready to burst out of his skin, and it was a miracle he didn’t do exactly that.

He did rush forward to take Luna’s place, however. Raising his hooves, he enthusiastically clapped along with the crowd, reviving the applause for another round. When it finally petered out, he straightened his hat and promptly began bouncing at the edge of the fountain. “As Chancellor of the Kingdom of Equestria, I hereby declare today an official Equestrian holiday! From now on, the twenty-first of June will be Unity Day!” He grinned as he looked over all the ponies present. “Now, there’s food and games and music all throughout the city today! Go out and enjoy yourselves! Be happy! Be proud to be an Equestrian! You deserve to be!”

Excited cheering answered him, and immediately the ponies gathered began to disperse throughout the city. The band grabbed their instruments and began to play again; vendor stalls appeared seemingly out of nowhere along the streets, open and ready for business, and another round of fireworks punctuated the magical moment. Finally stepping back from the fountain, Puddinghead and the other Equestrian leaders withdrew with satisfied smiles on their faces. Celestia and Luna remained, catering to the ponies who were trying to reach them and talk to them.

And the city continued to smile.

Diadem bit her lip as she leaned against a marble balustrade on the balcony of Twister’s house, right off of Mane Street. The parade was breaking down into organized chaos as ponies went every which way, wandering to the myriad of events and entertainment scattered throughout the city blocks. The alicorn Sisters and Equestria’s triumvirate made room for a gaggle of servants to haul high-backed wooden seats onto the dais surrounding the fountain. Each of the three smaller chairs was trimmed in platinum, copper, or hard iron, while the two larger chairs placed between them were decorated with gold and silver leaf and ornate, intricate patterns. Once placed, Equestria’s leaders and its special guests took their seats, while another band of ponies cleared a space in the crowd and dragged out a large rolling stage to fill it.

The aqua filly looked around her, hoping for any sign of her mentors. She’d been with Star Swirl earlier in the parade, shooting off fireworks with him to add the necessary pomp and flair to the parade. After all, two of Equestria’s goddesses descending from high to bestow Everfree with the gift of their presence left no expenses spared. Commander Hurricane’s sister had lent her house to the archmages to shoot their fireworks and left them alone, saying that she had to ‘entertain political flankstains’ and couldn’t stop to enjoy the holiday. She’d asked Star Swirl to look after Tempest for her while she was gone, and the stallion had readily agreed, letting the foal play with the end of his long, white beard while he cast his magic. At least it let Diadem focus on her magic and the types of fireworks Star Swirl had taught her.

But then the stallion had said he needed to take care of a few things with Clover, and had promptly left after the speeches were concluded, leaving Diadem alone with Tempest. Diadem had promised her mentor that she’d look after the foal, more from a desire to please than any actual interest on her part. Now, she stood on the balcony twiddling her hooves together while she waited for Star Swirl to return.

Tempest stared at his hooves, his ears flattened against his head and his wings drooping at his sides. He’d already shed most of his pin feathers last year, but here or there a waxy barb poked through fledging primaries. Despite the obvious care that Twister had used in preening his wings, the barbs were already disheveled and frayed along the edges. Diadem didn’t need to look twice to know that the four year-old was under a lot of distress.

Diadem bit her lip again, wincing as she nearly drew blood. She’d promised Star Swirl that she’d look after the foal; it wouldn’t do if the archmage came back to find Tempest like this. Stepping away from the railing, the unicorn approached Tempest and squatted by his side. Other than a quick glance from downcast eyes, the foal didn’t even react.

“Hey... Tempest,” Diadem began, placing a half-comforting, half-awkward foreleg around the colt’s shoulders and pressing him against her side. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine,” Tempest mumbled, still staring at his hooves.

Diadem winced and looked around once it was clear she wasn’t getting anything more out of him. “Fine? That’s... that’s good,” she said in all the awkwardness of a fifteen year-old. “Uh... are you sure?”

Tempest gave a little nod. “Yes.”

“Okay. Cool.” Searching for something to focus on, Diadem’s eyes eventually settled on the festival below. “You want to go downstairs and play some games? There’s lots of fun games at the carnival!”

The little colt gave a small shake of his head. “Don’t wanna.” His head shifted, and he brought his magenta eyes towards Diadem’s. “When’s mommy coming home? I miss mommy.” His eyes searched Diadem’s for any sort of answer to the question he’d been asking for days now.

Diadem did her best to not wither under the little colt’s pleading expression. “She’s uh... she’ll be back soon, don’t worry!” she harped, trying to put as much confidence into the lie as possible. Twister had told her and Star Swirl what to say if Tempest asked about Typhoon, and Diadem was doing her best to not let the words slip away from her. “She’s on a super-secret mission for the Legion! She’ll be back when she’s done, and she’ll tell you all about it! Sound good?” Her cheeks felt like they were going to implode with how much effort it took to force a smile to her face.

Tempest’s young eyes studied her for a moment longer, then dropped back to his hooves. “Okay,” he mumbled, pushing a little mote of dust across the marble balcony. “Auntie Twister says mommy needs me strong. Gotta be strong... for mommy.”

Diadem visibly winced, and she turned away so Tempest wouldn’t see her expression. “So what do you want to do then?” she asked, rubbing Tempest’s shoulders and massaging a spot between his tiny wings. “Surely you want to do something?”

“No,” Tempest mumbled, looking away.

Diadem wracked her brain, trying to find an answer. An idea came to her, and she poked Tempest in the shoulder. “You want to see more fireworks?” she asked, trying to impart some enthusiasm on the colt. While Tempest didn’t directly respond, he did look at Diadem with a tiny spark of interest.

“Right,” Diadem said, standing up and moving a safe distance away. Her horn began to glow, and she tried to remember what Star Swirl taught her. Focus on a point in the sky, and try to hit it with a burst of mana. The teal glow around her horn flickered as Diadem realized that it would be just her casting fireworks now; the other unicorns Star Swirl and Clover had enlisted to cast fireworks had all left the rooftops to enjoy the holiday. Everypony’s eyes would be on her once she fired the first one.

Not only that, but she didn’t have the comforting presence of her mentors that she relied on so often to focus her spells. She was powerful, she knew, and not just because Star Swirl and Clover told her so, but because she herself could feel it in her blood. But for all that power, she still felt like she lacked the control and precision to be a great mage. As soon as that doubt entered her mind, it clawed at her focus and nearly paralyzed her. It was times like those that Diadem would turn to Clover or Star Swirl for encouragement and somehow find the strength and determination to perform like they believed she could, and like how she expected herself to.

But the two archmages weren’t here now; it was just her and Tempest, and soon enough, the eyes of Everfree. Diadem’s horn flickered and fizzled out, and she sighed and sat down. Sun and stars, why couldn’t she do this? She hadn’t hesitated in Onyx Ridge five years ago, and she hadn’t hesitated when that strange pony had stolen Electrum’s Orb from the castle. She was even just casting these same spells fifteen minutes ago. So why stop now?

Diadem looked at Tempest, only to see that the colt’s eyes had fallen back to his hooves. The pitiful sight moved something in her. Yes, she could do this. Even without Star Swirl or Clover there to guide her, she could do this. Taking a deep breath, Diadem reset her focus, and her horn came to life once more.

“Okay,” she whispered to herself. “Something easy to start with.” Her horn flared into a ball of teal Arcana, and after a second’s hesitation, it shot into the air with a thin screech. The ball of energy arced for the briefest of moments at its apex before exploding in a loud pop above Mane Street. Diadem immediately sent two more after it, which exploded in rapid succession. The filly let out a breath, and her shoulders relaxed slightly. She could do this.

She looked over her shoulder again, and this time she saw Tempest’s eyes watching her. Swallowing hard, Diadem went back to her show. Easy. This was easy. She just had to convince herself of it. Closing her eyes, she focused on her next selection of fireworks. Two corkscrews, a screamer, and a zig-zagging ball of light. One after the other, Diadem cast the spells without fail, and with each subsequent cast, she began to feel a little more comfortable, a little more relaxed. Opening her eyes, she saw the streets of Everfree filled with ponies watching her display, clapping their hooves after each volley of magic.

“Alright, let’s do something fun now,” Diadem murmured. Her horn pulsed seven different times, and arranged in a ring around her body were seven different balls of Arcana, each a different color. Turning to Tempest, she gently sent the floating spheres around the colt’s head, letting the spiral just out of hoof’s reach. The colt eagerly watched them, and tried to touch one with a hoof. Diadem kept them dancing away from his hoof, providing Tempest with some entertainment while also preventing the colt from hurting himself; they were pure mana after all, and they would still burn.

While Tempest was still enthralled by the orbs, Diadem fired the first one into the sky. “Divination,” she muttered to herself as the black sphere twirled through the air. “The manipulation of information.”

The ball of pure energy reached its apex and detonated with a loud bang! that seemed to shake the entire city. Diadem winced and turned down the power a little; she’d put a bit too much mana into the fireworks. Lining the remaining six colors in front of her, she bounced each ball along the balustrade once and fired off the two outermost in the line.

Gold and purple spun through the sky, shrieking as they rose. “Transmutation,” Diadem said, watching the gold orb. “The manipulation of matter.” Her eyes switched from the gold orb to the purple one. “And thaumaturgy, the manipulation of mana.”

The two colored spheres arced towards each other and met in the middle. With a smaller pop than the black orb, they exploded into alternating streaks of gold and purple which fizzled out as they approached the ground. Faint applause reached Diadem’s ears in the background, but the mare was more focused on the significance behind the colors only she and other studied mages would truly appreciate.

Red and green were next. The two spheres of Arcana twisted one around the other as they rose before ultimately hovering a few dozen feet apart in the sky. “Evocation and translocation,” Diadem said, looking from red to green. “Energy and position. Two of the most important schools.”

As she spoke, the two orbs seemed to diffuse their colors into the air. Waving bands of red and green met in the middle, weaving around one another in a twisting, twirling display of light. The ponies of Everfree applauded once again, but Diadem had already launched blue and white straight into the red and green orbs, dissipating them to make space.

“And lastly, Illusions and necromancy. Manipulation of the mind... and the soul.” She frowned to herself, suddenly realizing that neither Star Swirl nor Clover had really taught her any necromancy spells. At least, nothing more than the seance cantrip. Well, it was something to ask them about later when she was done. Right now, the two balls of color needed her undivided attention for what she was going to do next.

Diadem squeezed her eyes shut, trying to imagine Celestia’s and Luna’s faces. Her horn flared several times as she tried to twist the orbs into different shapes, like a sculptor carving a block of marble. Sweat formed along the base of her horn, and her head began to ache. The mana that made the blue and white orbs was unruly and fickle, and no matter how Diadem poked and prodded with her Arcana, she simply couldn’t get the shapes she wanted. Above the streets, the blue and white orbs wavered and warped, until suddenly with a loud blast of thunder they exploded, the trails of blue and white fizzling out above the crowd.

Wiping away the sweat from her brow and around her still glowing horn, Diadem nervously stepped forward to see if the ponies of Everfree had realized what she’d failed in doing. Her appearance over the edge of the balcony was greeted with cheering and waving ponies of all colors and races, oblivious to the real intent behind Diadem’s final two fireworks. The applause and support summoned a sheepish smile to her face, and she jerkingly bowed to praise she didn’t felt like she’d earned. A glance through her bangs nearly doubled her over in embarrasment, however, when she saw that Equestria’s triumvirate were applauding her, along with both Celestia and Luna.

The filly sheepishly smiled and bowed once again, then hastily withdrew from the balcony. Sitting down hard on the marble floor, Diadem let her shoulders sag. Sure, the ponies of Everfree seemed to enjoy her show, but Diadem knew that she’d failed the grand finale. She swallowed hard, hoping that Star Swirl or Clover didn’t happen to see any of that.

Her ears perked at a new noise. Behind her, tiny, excited clops of hooves against the marble caught her attention over the sounds of the celebration below. Turning around, Diadem saw Tempest enthusiastically bouncing off of his front legs, hooves echoing against the stone with each excited hop. He was smiling and his wings were outstretched, and Diadem couldn’t help but smile back at his foalish delight. “Again!” the foal shouted, bouncing up to Diadem. “Again, again!”

“Again?” Diadem asked, a little caught off guard. However, seeing the little colt bounce up and down, up and down, made her smile again. She wiped her brow with a hoof and exaggerated the rolling of her neck. “I don’t know if I can do it again. That took a lot out of me...”

Tempest frowned and stomped his hooves against the ground. “Again!” he cried, trying to will Diadem to create more bursts of light and sound. “Please?”

“Well, how can I say no to a face like that?” she asked, stepping closer and nuzzling Tempest’s forehead. She cast one last look over the balcony to the stage below and pursed her lips, noting that whatever event Puddinghead had set up was just about ready to begin. Turning back to Tempest, she nudged the foal to his hooves. “How about we go to the park? It’ll be quieter there and we won’t be bothering anypony. Grandpa needs it quiet right now.”

“Okie!” Tempest yelled, bounding to his hooves. “C’mon! I wanna see more fireworks! C’mon, Dye-Dem!”

Diadem shook her head as she followed the excited foal into the house. While Tempest scrambled down the staircase, she left a note for Star Swirl, saying that she went to the park shoot off more fireworks with Tempest. She grabbed a saddlebag and began shoveling snacks and drinks into it, but before long, Tempest’s impatience was catching up with him. “C’mon, Dye-Dem!” he shouted again. “Let’s go!”

‘Dye-Dem’. The aqua filly’s mouth curved in a smile. She didn’t even think the little colt knew her name. Granted, it wasn’t really her name, but he was only four. Diadem shook her head, still smiling. Whatever, she’d take it. She made one last check, before Tempest called out again. Happily rolling her eyes, Diadem started down the stairs. “Alright, Tempest, I’m coming! Don’t worry!”

As she opened the door and the foal scampered out into the street, Diadem rolled her shoulders, flicked her tail, and wondered if she could talk Twister into letting her foalsit some time.

Pan Sea trotted down Everfree’s Mane Street. All around him, the ponies of Everfree wore smiles on their faces and happily chatted with one another about anything except the riots that’d terrorized the city in the past months. Everywhere the smell of food permeated the air and music echoed off of the brick walls. The crowds and the noise were simply inescapable; then again, Pan Sea had no reason to want to escape it.

At his side, Soft Feather happily cantered along, grasping something fried on a stick between her pinions. Pan Sea wasn’t sure if it was hay or seaweed, but the mare was enjoying it, and he couldn’t help but smile along with his fiancée. The white feathers on her free wing brushed against Pan Sea’s yellow primaries, and the mare’s emerald eyes sparkled at the festivities all around her.

“This is so much fun!” Feather practically squealed, suddenly throwing her weight against Pan Sea’s side and playfully nuzzling his neck. She separated just as quickly and began bouncing on the tips of her hooves, spinning in circles in a vain attempt to see everything. Between the banners, flags, streamers, confetti, and colorful outfits, it looked like a rainbow had fallen out of the sky and splashed across town. Soft Feather whirled back to Pan Sea, her snack nearly flying out of the grasp of her feathers. “Why can’t we have these more often? They’re wonderful!”

Pan Sea felt his smile somehow get wider. He wrapped a wing around Feather’s shoulders and pulled her closer until their sides were touching. “If I were to take a guess it’d be because Hurricane didn’t think it’d be worth the time. The codger’s drowning in his own discipline. I don’t think he’d know what fun was if it bit him.”

“Then I guess they finally let the Chancellor do his thing for once,” Feather said. “If this is what happens when he throws one of his legendary Amber Field parties, then I’d visit the surface more.”

“I know. Normally I’d never even consider coming down here without my armor on. It’s more dangerous than fighting barbarians.”

Soft Feather poked him in the ribs, earning a tiny squeak as the stallion jumped back. She giggled and then fell against his side once more. “I don’t normally get to tickle you, you’re in your armor so much.”

“That’s what I meant,” Pan Sea said, rubbing his fiancee’s back with a wing. “I wasn’t talking about the rebels, you know.”

This time when Soft Feather tried to jab him in the ribs, Pan Sea simply smothered her in a bear hug. “Ack! Can’t breathe!” She wheezed, her wings flailing uselessly behind her. Pan Sea released her with a chuckle, letting the mare catch her breath. When the snowy mare finally recovered, her eyes wandered to the snack she’d dropped on the ground. Frowning, she muttered, “I wasn’t done with that yet…”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you another one,” Pan Sea said, shepherding her along. “There’s tons of these food places open throughout the city. It’s like they all popped up overnight.”

“They probably did. Nopony really knows how Puddinghead does what he does, but he does…” She furrowed her brow. “That make sense?”

“Not in the slightest,” Pan Sea teased. He swallowed and tasted his dry mouth. “I could use a lemonade or something, though.”

The two lovers continued on, navigating the dense crowds of ponies around them with more than a few pardons and apologies. It didn’t take them long to find a lemonade stand run by two enterprising fillies under the ‘supervision’ of their dad, who was contentedly watching the two from a stool against a nearby wall. Pan Sea dropped two bits for two paper cups of lemonade in their jar, plus a third for them ‘looking cute’, and passed one of the drinks to Soft Feather. The lemonade tasted sweet and refreshing, and Pan Sea sighed as he felt the cool liquid run down his throat.

Overhead, a small flock of pegasi fluttered from rooftop to rooftop, whooping and hollering with excitement despite the lazy protests of the few legionaries posted on the roofs that they needed to walk like everypony else. Pan Sea spotted a few faces he recognized, and he waved a hoof. “Hey! Spring Breeze! Where’s everypony going?”

A sage green pegasus spun in place on the crest of a rooftop and shielded her eyes with a wing. “Pan Sea? Hey, it is you!” She grinned and jumped down, landing in front of the couple with a solid clop of her hooves. “I haven’t seen you in weeks! What’s up?”

“Same old, same old,” the centurion answered, chuckling. “Paperwork for Commander Hurricane, sticking my nose into trouble, the usual.” He glanced at Soft Feather and nudged her forward. “This is my fiancée, Soft Feather. Feather, this is Spring Breeze, although she likes to be called Breezy.”

Spring Breeze rolled her eyes. “I swear to the gods if you call me that I’ll break your neck. Anyway, nice to meet you, Feather.” She stuck out a hoof, which Feather readily shook. “So, what, you didn’t hear that Comona’s totally singing today?”

Pan Sea’s ears perked up. “Wait, really? She’s here? Why didn’t anypony tell me?”

Breeze grinned at him. “Sucks to suck, doesn’t it? Better hurry or all the good cloud seats’ll be taken. You’ll have to sit with the ground ponies then. They don’t even know how good Comona is.”

A pair of stallions shouted Spring Breeze’s name from the rooftop, and she glanced over her shoulder to see them emphatically beckoning her. She flashed one last grin at Pan Sea and began backtrotting. “Uh, yeah, gotta go and get a seat! Zip!” And with that, she spread her wings and powered into the sky.

Pan Sea watched her go, jerking back to reality when Soft Feather gave him a little nudge in the ribs. “So… you know her?” she asked.

The stallion shrugged. “She and I were real close in basic during the war. We’d go sparring every once in a while.” He noticed Soft Feather giving him a funny look. “What?”

“Sparring?” she teased, raising one eyebrow. Pan Sea stammered out an attempt at a response before she shook her head with a slight smile and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.” She began to walk ahead, leading the stallion on with a wingtip under his chin.

“…It was a one night thing,” the stallion murmured, still somewhat lost in a daze.

The couple took to the air, sailing over the crowds of earth ponies and unicorns below them. Once above the rooftops, it didn’t take long for them to see where Comona was supposed to be performing. Pegasi sat on stone arches and marble columns surrounding a plaza so wide and deep it resembled an amphitheater. Others hauled platforms of cumulus down from the skies, and the legionaries on duty kept directing pushy pegasi back to the edges of the plaza so they weren’t obscuring anypony’s view. On a makeshift wooden stage, a silver pegasus mare sang a few chord progressions to herself, warming up her voice.

Pan Sea and Soft Feather hovered near the edge of the plaza, trying but failing to find an open seat somewhere in the air. “Seriously, how did you not know this was going to happen?” Feather chastised her fiancé. “You spend way more time in Everfree than I do. You’d think Comona singing in the Plaza of Legends would’ve at least crossed your desk at some point.”

“I think I passed it somewhere between two and three in the morning,” Pan Sea grumbled. “I was up to my ears in paperwork. I wish I had half the efficiency that Twister does. It would’ve been foal’s play to her.” His eyes scanned the skies one more time, but eventually he sighed and began to flutter down towards the steps. “When Breeze said seats were going fast, I didn’t think she meant that fast.”

“At least there’s plenty of spaces to sit.”

“But they’re not cloud seats,” the stallion mumbled. He ignored the playful punch Soft Feather delivered to his shoulder.

Despite the skies being filled to the brim, the two pegasi were able to find seats on the ground that were fairly close to the edge of the stage. Smatterings of earth ponies and unicorns wandered into the plaza, curious about the commotion, and began to fill in the seats around them. While Comona warmed her voice with progressions and small jingles, Pan Sea took the time to appreciate the Cirrans’ contribution to the four plazas of Everfree.

Whereas the speeches had been held in the Plaza of the Founders, the rest of the parade seemed centered around the three other squares that made up the central hubs of Everfree. While the unicorns had the Plaza of Kings and the earth ponies their Plaza of Tradition, the pegasi had copied a slice of old Cirra in the Plaza of Legends. Columns of marble and arches of cloudstone made up the majority of the architecture, and statues of Cirran legends stood watch all along the edges of the square. On the central arch right above the makeshift stage stood a statue of Commander Hurricane himself, placed right next to Roamulus. Pan Sea remembered how much Hurricane resented it, and how he’d complained and protested for weeks how he didn’t deserve to be next to Roamulus. Of course, that didn’t stop Queen Platinum from having his statue put there anyway. Sometimes Pan Sea wondered if she’d done that just to irritate him.

“Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve been to one of Comona’s concerts!” Soft Feather squeed, her wings twitching in excitement. “I must’ve been in my twenties. It’s been a long ten years since then.” She smiled and admired the mare on the stage. “I can’t believe she’s still singing. She’s been going at it for twenty years now.”

“And yet she still has her silver voice,” Pan Sea murmured, watching the singer take a sip from a glass of water and canter to the center of stage. Comona shook her head, tossing her long white and sky blue mane over a shoulder, and simply leaned on a hip, waiting. Within seconds, all the pegasi suddenly fell silent, leaving the earth ponies and unicorns to awkwardly break off their conversations and confusedly look around. Pan Sea suppressed a chuckle at their confusion; every pegasus knew this was how Comona started a concert.

When all was quiet, the silvery mare stepped forward and smiled under fluttering sapphire eyes. “My my, what a crowd we’ve got here today!” she exclaimed, her perfectly white teeth practically glimmering in the sunlight. “I’m telling you, it feels good to expand my venues a bit. I usually keep my acts to Cloudsdale itself, but when Commander Hurricane himself sent me a message that I should perform today of all days, I was truly flattered. I figured it’s a sin that only Cirrans got to hear my voice; I’ve been told by a few that I’m a decent vocalist.”

She smiled at the good-natured laughs and praise the pegasi around the Plaza practically dumped on her. “Alright, alright, no need to flatter me now. Anyway!” She shook her mane and hopped a few steps forward. “How are you all feeling today?!”

No single reply could be heard in the tumult as the crowd answered her.

Comona looked down at one of her hooves, holding it in front of her and watching the light dance off of its hard, silvery exterior. After a few seconds, she blinked and her ears perked. “Sorry? I must’ve missed that.” She smiled and stomped her hoof down. “Come on, let me hear it! How’re you ponies doing today?!”

“Good!” they shouted back, louder this time.

“Awesome!” Comona hollered. Walking right up to the edge of her stage, she began to pace back and forth, holding a wingtip just within reach of the ponies sitting closest to her. “Now, like I said, I’ve never really performed in front of a crowd such as this. Pretty funny considering I’ve been doing this for twenty years now, huh?” She smirked as a unicorn colt pawed at her wingtip and she leaned over to tickle his nose. Hopping and fluttering a few paces back, she once again took center stage. “Now how about we start with something you know by heart, hmm? You guys know the Equestrian anthem?”

A medley of cheers and ayes answered her.

“Awesome! Now, who knows it in old Cirran?”

A much smaller group of individuals cheered; most of them were in the sky.

Comona made a pouty face and shook her head. “Tut tut! That’s a shame, really. Now, I may speak with just an itty bitty bit of bias, but it sounds much nicer in Cirran. Don’t believe me?” She waved a wing off to the side, and orchestral music began to drift into the air. “Join in if you know the words!”

The music built up for several seconds, gradually increasing in volume and intensity. Comona stood with her head down and eyes closed, breathing in time with the beat. Pan Sea found himself leaning a little bit closer on the edge of his seat. The pegasi in the skies did the same, dangling their forelimbs off of their cloud platforms, while on the ground, the rest of the ponies unfamiliar with Comona’s reputation watched and waited. As the orchestra finally built into a climaxing chorus, Comona took a deep breath and stepped forward.

Simul stamus, seorsum cadamus. Ex viridi, ad lucens mare, spiramus, florent, amare, et vivet. Equus terra locum preciivivente!

The anthem relapsed into an instrumental segment, giving the ponies attending plenty of time to cheer and applause. Pan Sea clopped his hooves together emphatically, and Soft Feather leaned back with the largest grin on her face. “She’s just as good as she was back then! I love it!”

“You’re telling me!” Pan Sea exclaimed.

On stage, Comona twirled in midair, moving from one side of the platform to the other with a lively energy. She leaned over the edge and smacked hooves with everypony she could reach, sharing smiles and laughs along the way. As the second verse approached, she hopped back to the center of the stage and raised her wings. “Everypony! Come on!”

This time, when she began again, the crowd joined in with her, the pegasi singing the words by heart and the other races trying their best to sing along. Their voices rose high above the rooftops and the statues of the Plaza, carrying with it the spirit of a united Equestria.

Simul stamus, seorsum cadamus. Ex viridi, ad lucens mare, spiramus, florent, amare, et vivet. Equus terra locum preciivivente!

The Plaza immediately filled with applause and wild cheering as Comona hit the song’s climaxing note. Smiling wide, she held her wings open to accept the praise and bowed a few times. “Oh please, please, thank you! You ponies are amazing, you know that?” Prancing back and forth across the stage, the mare touched her wingtips to her lips and blew kisses into the audience. “Good! Great! You guys really made the song, you know that? Really, it’s not the same without you!”

Another wave of cheering greeted her, and taking a deep breath, Comona finally seemed to settle down in the middle of the stage. “Alright! Okay, awesome! Now, this next song is something really special to me, and to a lot of us who grew up in old Cirra, far, far across the ocean. It was my first song waaaaaaay back in 405 After Empire—that’s 763 Age of Tribes for you unicorns and earth ponies out there. Like I said, twenty years ago.”

Her face suddenly became solemn, and she stood with her wings crossed in front of her chest, tips touching the floor. “I was ten when the war began. I know there are more than a few of you out here today who remember Dioda just as well as I do.” She paused, then raised a wing. “Who here was born in Dioda?”

Both Pan Sea and Soft Feather quietly raised their wings, as did most of the pegasi filling the skies and the Plaza. Comona nodded a few times, her eyes sweeping over every raised wing. “Right. Now… keep your wings raised if you knew somepony who died in the war.”

Hardly a wing lowered. Pan Sea and Soft Feather exchanged quiet glances as they both kept their wings raised. On stage, Comona finally lowered her own after a few seconds. “My mother was a good mare. She died at Feathertop with so many others. There’s not a day that I don’t miss her.”

Her eyes fell on an elderly stallion sitting at the front of the crowd, and she smiled. “I have my dad to thank for letting me go into singing; or rather, pushing me to pursue anything that wasn’t the Legion after the Exodus. I… I don’t know where I’d be without him.”

She smiled through teary eyes and recomposed herself. “I know you Cirrans know the words. So please, sing it with me.”

Strings opened the piece, and Comona began to hum a melody. Throughout the Plaza, it was swiftly taken up by the pegasi present. Even Pan Sea and Soft Feather hummed the melody together, right until Comona began to sing.

I lift off My wings set to the sky Arise from ashes And now I fly Through flames of war I have been reborn It’s my timeI have made it mine

As the music relapsed into an instrumental section, a familiar green unicorn sat down by Pan Sea’s side. Mayor Greenleaf sighed and rolled his shoulders, watching Comona launch into the next verse. After a moment, he said aloud, “She’s quite the singer, isn’t she?”

“Mayor Greenleaf?” Pan Sea asked, blinking in surprise. Soft Feather glanced over at the mayor, but almost immediately found Comona’s performance more entertaining and looked away. “What are you doing here?”

“Enjoying the show, obviously,” Greenleaf replied. “It’s stressing to go through thousands of reports, pieces of legislature, and orders from the triumvirate and pass them along day in and day out. I’m sure you can relate, mister…?”

“Pan Sea,” the yellow pegasus replied. He coughed awkwardly into his hoof and tried to flatten down his rising neck hairs.

“Ah. I remember now. Commander Hurricane’s secretary.” The mayor nodded, looking around. “You’ve been out of the office a lot as of late. Spending time with your fiancée?”

Pan Sea could feel his heartbeat quickening. Did he know? “Yes, as you can see. When we heard there was going to be a parade today, we had to make sure that we’d be down here to see it.” He nodded towards Greenleaf. “I assume you’re capitalizing on the impromptu holiday as well?”

Greenleaf chuckled faintly. “Ah, yes, of course. I did help pen it into existence, after all. It’s been too long since I’ve had a day off.”

“I know that feeling,” Pan Sea replied. The two stallions once more redirected their attention to Comona, who was singing with her wings outstretched and gently swaying back and forth with the music.

A beat. “How’s Clover doing?” Pan Sea asked, hoping to change the subject.

Greenleaf blinked. “Clover? Oh, yes, we haven’t been able to get together as much as I would’ve liked lately. I’ve been busy with trying to keep this city from imploding and she’s too busy with teaching her apprentice to spend time with her old stallion.” He looked away. “I mean, I try to see her when I can. We actually have plans to go down to the river in a few days’ time. I’m just happy that she still loves me, despite how little we see one another.”

Pan Sea nodded. “That’s good. I’m sure she’ll enjoy it. I hope you two have a good time.”

“Mmmm.”

The two stallions shifted their attention back to Comona, listening intently as she began bringing her song to a close. Patting Pan Sea on the shoulder, Greenleaf stood up and bowed his head. “I’ll leave you two in peace now. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Pan Sea watched the mayor walk away until his green coat disappeared into the shuffling colors of the crowd outside the Plaza. Soft Feather tugged on his foreleg, and he turned to see the mare watching him, baffled. “What was that all about? The mayor?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Pan Sea said, shrugging. “He just… wandered over to me and asked me a few questions, then left.” He looked back to the stage as the song came to a close and the ponies in the crowd began cheering. “And I missed the song, too. Damn.”

Soft Feather smiled and wrapped her forelegs around him. “Oh, it’s okay, we still have the rest of the concert to listen to!”

Pan Sea’s lips curved and he hugged her back. “True enough. I’m just looking to sit back, relax, and enjoy myself now.”

The two pegasi settled against one another as Comona began wandering the stage again, talking to the ponies assembled and thanking them once again for coming out to listen to her. But Pan Sea couldn’t fully pay attention. His mind was elsewhere, and he continually scratched his neck, trying to get his rising mane to lie flat.

Commander Hurricane sat stock-still in his high-backed wooden chair. His onyx armor was chafing his shoulders and neck, and with the sun at its peak, he was beginning to sweat under the metal. What bothered him the most, however, was the fiery void that seemed to be tearing at his gut as he stared disinterestedly ahead.

At his right sat the towering Celestia, a soft and amused smile on her face as she watched a group of performers reenact the story of Hearth’s Warming and Equestria’s founding. Queen Platinum sat to her right, between Celestia and her sister, and Chancellor Puddinghead occupied the rightmost seat, giggling at an actor’s zealous reenactment of Hurricane during the Amber Field conference. Hurricane himself, however, was not amused, and his mind was imagining all the ways he could exact vengeance on Clover the Clever for coming up with this mockery of a fairy tale.

Hurricane doubted he could’ve enjoyed the show even if it hadn’t been a blatant satire of what had actually happened five years ago. His mind was elsewhere, caught between anger and dismay. Pathfinder and Iron Rain had returned from their scouting missions two days ago and had immediately sought the Commander out. Hurricane had immediately dropped a meeting with Platinum and Puddinghead so that he could hear what the couple had to say. When they finally told him what they’d uncovered, however, Hurricane promptly dismissed them and had spent the last two days keeping to himself, not seeing anypony apart from Twister until the parade today.

He was pretty sure he didn’t have any tears left to shed.

As the show began to break out into a grating musical number, Hurricane stood from his seat and left. The actors on stage faltered briefly, but to their credit kept the show going. The last thing Hurricane heard was the actor playing him hit some ridiculous note in the song before it melted away into the noise of the rest of the parade.

Hurricane ducked into the nearest alley he could find, trying to get away from all the joviality and merriment that filled the air of Everfree. While he couldn’t fault the ponies of Equestria for enjoying it, to him it felt like the suffocating stench of too much cheap perfume. For now, he just wanted to be alone.

The alley came to a dead end around the corner. Refuse, bottles, and other waste littered the ground, the legacy of teenage colts gathering late at night. Graffiti largely consisting of names and slurs decorated locked doors and barred windows. Now, it was just Hurricane and three towering stone walls, with only a sliver of the sky above to illuminate the alley.

Drawing his sword, Hurricane swung Procellarum with a scream of frustration. The legendary skysteel blade bit straight through the stone, melting and freezing it again with a thunderous boom that sent shards flying everywhere. Several dinged off of Hurricane’s Praetorian armor, but the pegasus didn’t notice. He only tore Procellarum out of the wall and struck again, showering himself with even more debris. Again and again the sword swung as Hurricane abused the buildings with his fury, until one brick exploded outwards and sent an inch-long shard into his cheek. Gasping, Hurricane let go of the sword, leaving it embedded in the wall, and clutched at the tiny spear buried in his skin. The dark pegasus worked it out with a growl and crushed the bloody clay aggregate under a hoof.

“Commander?”

Hurricane jolted at the voice. His wings angled in warning, the pegasus turned around, glaring, only to stop when he saw the mare standing across from him. Somehow Celestia had separated herself from the crowd and the festivities, and she stood with concern on her face. The dress trailing around her hooves already had its fringes stained with dirt. “Hurricane? What’s the matter?”

It took all of Hurricane’s effort to bite back sharp words and bury the scowl that threatened to overtake his features. Dabbing at the blood dribbling down his cheek, he turned away and reached for his sword. “It’s none of your concern, my Lady.”

Drawing the sword from the stone, Hurricane took a step back and flicked his ear. Instead of hearing Celestia’s withdrawing hoofsteps as he’d vainly hoped, the mare stepped closer to him. “Maybe I can help?”

Hurricane refused to turn and face her. “It’s a personal matter. Nothing more.”

Behind him, Celestia frowned. “Hurricane. Look at me.”

The stallion’s shoulders trembled and the muscles in his jaw bulged as he clenched his teeth around the handle of the sword. With a firm yank, he pulled the weapon out of the wall and angrily sheathed it before turning to Celestia. To Celestia’s credit, she didn’t back down from the fuming stare Hurricane sent her way. Instead, her motherly features hardened to match the battle-worn Cirran’s.

“There’s nothing worse than bottling up your emotions,” she scolded him. “If you need an ear, I’m here to talk to, but don’t do this to yourself. It’s harmful.”

“It’s good to save emotions for a powerful burst of Empatha,” Hurricane bitterly remarked. His gaze faltered, and with a deep sigh the Cirran collapsed onto his haunches, his head hung low. “Forgive me.”

“Only on the condition that you tell me what’s going on,” Celestia said, not flinching back. A few lengthy strides brought her by Hurricane’s side. “I did not see you at all the two days prior to the parade, even though I’d tried calling on you. Furthermore, Luna said your dreams were troubled, although she was unable to discern any details because they were blurry and distorted with sorrow.” She cast a look at a dusty bottle lying in the corner of the alley. “What scar could run so deep that the legendary Commander Hurricane can’t handle himself?”

Seconds hung in the air, heavy and uncomfortable, before Hurricane answered. “They’ve stolen my daughter, Celestia. My... my baby girl. Typhoon.” Here, the legendary stallion began to shudder, and his bladed wings began to rattle against his armored sides. “I-I don’t know what they did to her, but Finder and Rain told me that she’s not the same mare anymore.”

Celestia blinked. “Stolen her? You can’t possibly mean—”

“I mean what I m-mean,” the pegasus stammered. “They didn’t just steal her body. They s-stole her mind, too. Body and soul, they took my Typhoon from me.”

The alicorn’s eyes shone with sorrow as Hurricane continued. “She tried to kill Pathfinder and Iron Rain when they discovered her underneath the city. She kept... kept screaming that she’d been betrayed, and she was protecting the leader of the rebels with her life.”

The stallion shook his head and stared into a dusty corner. “I sent a cohort as soon as I heard to try and take apart the rebels and bring my daughter back, but by the time they’d navigated the tunnels, the rebels were all gone... and Typhoon with them.”

Celestia stood deep in thought. “And she would never willingly join these rebels?”

This time, Hurricane didn’t restrain the scowl he leveled at Celestia. “After what happened five years ago, she wouldn’t even think of it. My children both lost too much not to learn from that.”

Celestia’ raised an eyebrow at the word ‘children’, but didn’t say anything on it. “And the ponies you sent to find your daughter… Typhoon?” At Hurricane’s terse nod, she continued. “The ponies you sent to find Typhoon; do you trust them completely?”

“Completely,” Hurricane echoed. “If they told me they saw it happen, then it happened.”

Anguish washed over his face, and Hurricane had to struggle to at least keep his forehooves under him and not collapse entirely on the ground. “Typhoon… my daughter… I… I don’t know what I would do if I lost her forever.”

The white alicorn towering over his side started. As Hurricane’s shoulders shook and trembled, Celestia’s wing inched out, hesitated, then gently wrapped around Hurricane’s body, trying to still his quaking.

Hurricane’s shakes suddenly stopped and his whole body went rigid as he felt Celestia drape her perfectly white feathers across his back. He didn’t look at her, but her embrace somehow seemed to calm him. Soon enough, with a deep sigh, he let his anguish leave his body in the form of ice around his hooves, but even that soon melted under Celestia’s warm presence.

“We’ll find your daughter,” Celestia said, slowly pulling her wing from Hurricane’s shoulders. Hurricane looked up at her, and Celestia gave him a comforting smile. “Your enemies are doubtless trying to use her as leverage or to turn her against you to get what they want. If they’ve manipulated Typhoon into siding with themselves, then I’m certain that we’ll see her soon.”

Hurricane shook his head. “I won’t fight my daughter. I can’t fight her. I’d rather die than... than kill her.”

The alicorn pursed her lips. “There’s another option. Luna can walk through dreams; I can ask her to look for Typhoon tonight when she sleeps. If we can find Typhoon on our own terms, then we should be able to get her out and have Star Swirl help her before the rebels can respond.”

“Star Swirl?” Hurricane asked. “Why him?”

“Because if Typhoon would never betray you, then there must be some reason why she’s siding with the rebels,” Celestia said. “The only suitable explanation is that the rebels have unicorns that have manipulated her mind into believing what they want her to believe. You can see why Star Swirl will be useful here.”

Hurricane nodded. Then, looking to the sky, he murmured a prayer. “I’ll save her. I promise.”

Grunting, the forty-six year old stallion rose to his hooves, staring ahead with a grim determination. After a moment, he turned to Celestia and extended a wing as an invitation. “We should return to our duties. While I don’t think it causes as much of a stir if I disappear for a few minutes, I think the ponies of Everfree would be more than a bit uneasy if their descended goddess disappeared for a second.”

Celestia diplomatically accepted Hurricane’s outstretched wing with her own. “I suppose you’re right. Although I think you had the right idea; it’s nice to get away from ponies every once in a while.”

The tiniest curve of Hurricane’s lips was the only indication of his smirk. “You’ve been here for three days and you’re already missing isolation?”

“I’d gotten used to it over the years,” Celestia answered. “It’s a little overwhelming at the moment.”

Hurricane shook his head. “Get used to it fast, because it’s never going to stop.” A few moments of silence as they rounded the corner, then: “Do you think the play’s done with? I don’t think I’ll be able to get through any more of it without stabbing something.”

“I think they’d only finished the first act when I left,” Celestia said. Noting the almost inaudible groan from Hurricane, she giggled. “Maybe the Chancellor and I should switch seats.”

Hurricane raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t hurt you, my Lady.”

“No; but I think you’d get some enjoyment out of abusing Puddinghead if you could.”

That earned a genuine smile from Hurricane. “Oh, you have no idea.”

Shadows began creeping along the streets as the sun began to set. It was approaching six in the evening, but there was still one last event that the Unity Day parade had in store for the ponies of Everfree. At some command that spread like wildfire throughout the city, the colorful equines moved at once towards the center of town, joking and laughing with neighbors and strangers alike.

Pan Sea and Soft Feather observed the procession from a bench as the streets gradually began to clear around them. Soft Feather hummed one of Comona’s songs to herself, watching families meander along with an unhurried purpose, their attention flitting from object to object as they walked. Pan Sea himself stared at the dirt between his hooves, forelegs crossed and seeming otherwise put out.

Eventually, Soft Feather stopped humming mid-verse and turned to Pan Sea. With a smile, she shook her head and flicked Pan Sea’s nose with the tip of her tail. “It’ll be alright, darling. It’s not the end of the world.”

Pan Sea only further crossed his forelegs. “I spent an hour trying to get her autograph,” he pouted. “And then she closes shop and goes backstage to head back to Cloudsdale. Who knows when I’ll find the time to see her again?”

Soft Feather giggled and leaned against Pan Sea’s shoulder. “Awww, it’ll be okay, Pansy. Another day.”

“Hmph. If there is another day…”

“Hey, you’ve got me still!”

“You’re right,” Pan Sea said, suddenly smiling and holding the mare against his side. “And that’s all that really matters.”

His fiancée giggled more and shut her eyes, letting Pan Sea wrap her in a wing and hold her close to his heart. The two ponies sat on the bench, quite content in each other’s embrace, until the crowds in the streets had thinned out to all but nothing.

Soft Feather raised an ear at the noticeable lack of noise. Her head followed soon after, and she looked up and down the streets to see only a few stragglers here and there. “Where’d everypony go?” she asked, stifling a yawn.

Pan Sea blinked and looked around. “I heard that Celeste was going to lower the sun in front of everypony tonight, and Lūn was going to raise the moon. I’d assume that’s where everypony’s at.”

The mare in his embrace sat up a little straighter, stretching her milky white forelimbs. “That sounds like fun! Do you want to see it?”

Pan Sea shrugged. “Do you want to see it?”

“A little,” Soft Feather admitted with a flash of her teeth.

“Then let’s go!” Pan Sea said, clambering off of the bench. Soft Feather grinned at him, and at his outstretched wing, pressed herself against his side. The comforting yellow feathers draped across her shoulders, pulling the two of them even closer together as they made their way down the streets.

It was impossible to not know where the final event was being held; all Pan Sea had to do was follow his ears. Every step the couple took towards the center of town only filled the air with more and more noise. Soon enough, they intermingled with another train of ponies heading for the Plaza of the Founders, the one quarter of the city that was shrouded in shade from the thousands of pegasi hovering overhead or resting on cloud platforms. Flaring their wings, the Cirran couple cleared enough space to take off and rest on one of the nearby rooftops, which Puddinghead had seen fit to supply with collapsible seating for the pegasi that would invariably watch the final proceedings from above.

Pan Sea and Soft Feather managed to find two open seats in the middle of the crowd, and with a myriad of excuses and pardons they seized them. The proceedings began almost immediately after the two pegasi sat down.

“Fillies, mares, and gentlecolts; ponies young and old!” Queen Platinum proclaimed, stepping forward on the same platform that she’d used earlier in the day. “Bow your heads, for we are about to witness a miracle! Long have the unicorns shouldered the burden of manipulating the sun and the moon for the ponies of the world; but today, we pass on this torch to those who rightfully own those celestial bodies. Lady Celestia and Lady Luna will lower the sun and raise the moon, as it is the heavenly duty which they uphold so that this world may continue to live!”

Turning around, Platinum struck her finest curtsey to the two advancing alicorns and left the platform with her head bowed in reverence. While she joined Commander Hurricane and Chancellor Puddinghead at their three seats in the back, the alicorn sisters stepped forward and fixed their eyes skywards. A deafening hush had fallen over the ponies assembled; Pan Sea found himself holding his breath, as if even that would be as loud as a scream. After a few seconds of quiet contemplation and focus, Celestia took a half-step forward, closed her eyes, and spread her wings.

Her horn lit with a majestic golden light the color of the dawn, and she gracefully threw her head skywards. Almost immediately the shadows of the buildings began to elongate as the sun visibly sank lower and lower along the horizon. The ponies gathered around the alicorns whispered in amazement to each other, staring, if not in reverence at Celestia, then in disbelief as the sun finally sank along the horizon. As the fresh seconds of twilight gripped the land, Celestia lowered her head and stepped back, finally opening her eyes.

Then she nodded to her sister. Luna dipped her head in acknowledgement and took her place at the front of the platform, mimicking Celestia’s earlier movements. From the east rose the moon in all its pallid glory, and the indigo hues of night clung to its cratered surface like a pool of midnight. The evening which Luna summoned ushered away the lazy colors of the twilight until they were but a mere glow along the western horizon. Pinpricks of light and splashes of silver soon joined the moon far, far above Equestria as stars and galaxies seemed to materialize from nothingness. Their gentle twinkling cast a soft hush over the land, and the birds sang their final songs to each other before settling in their nests and falling silent for the night.

It was over. Luna rejoined Celestia by her side, and the white alicorn straightened her neck. “Ponies of Equestria, I thank you for welcoming my sister and I into your nation and into your hearts this beautiful day. I pray that the fires of friendship you’ve kindled here grow brighter with each passing hour, and that years from now you’ll look back on today as the day when you learned to love and live instead of hate and destroy. I have my confidence in you and your leaders,” she said, looking over her shoulder at the triumvirate sitting behind her, “and my sincerest belief that no matter what happens, Equestria will not fall. Equestria will live, and my sister and I will do our best to keep it so.

“So once more I thank you, and I hope you’ve had a wonderful time today. May you cherish it always.”

Around the plaza, ponies began to stomp their hooves in applause. Celestia and Luna stood in silence, majestic wings outstretched and two very different smiles on their faces. While Celestia’s was one of tenderness and care, Luna’s was born of satisfaction and pleasure. Together, the two alicorns presented a duality of support and succession, prosperity and power.

The pegasi around Pan Sea and Soft Feather stood up so they could stomp their hooves on the stucco tiles of the rooftop, and the couple found themselves dragged to their hooves as well. Soft Feather applauded with a small smile of wonder on her face, marveling at what she’d just seen. Pan Sea smiled too, though he couldn’t help but glance behind the alicorns to Hurricane. The Cirran commander’s face was as stoic as ever, but Pan Sea thought he could see a looseness to his shoulders, as if a great weight had been removed from them with the day’s events.

A pony bumped into Pan Sea’s flank, and the centurion turned in time to see a hooded figure sliding past his tail. The figure muttered an apology and quickly disappeared back into the crowd of pegasi on the roof. Frowning, Pan Sea reached to his flank, only to find that his coin purse was still there. He relaxed a bit; that last thing he needed was to get pickpocketed at the end of the parade. Still, he chewed on his lip and tried to focus back on the alicorns in the Plaza. His hoof idly scratched an itch on his right flank.

Soft Feather noticed Pan Sea’s change in demeanor. “Something wrong, honey?” she asked, bumping her shoulder into his.

Pan Sea shrugged. “Nothing,” he lied. “Just thinking about… things.” He did his best to literally wave away the train of thought. “That was some twilight, wasn’t it?”

His fiancée vigorously nodded. “It was spectacular! This whole day has just been… wow! I can’t even begin to describe it!” She shook her head and fluffed her wings. “I mean, first Celeste and Lūn make an appearance as actual ponies?! I don’t think it’s even possible to describe meeting two of your goddesses! And then the concert with Comona, the food and the games… are you feeling alright?”

“Huh?” The centurion blinked several times, trying to bring his sluggish thoughts back to the present. His flank no longer felt itchy; now it felt like it was burning. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine…” he slurred. The colors of the world were all beginning to bleed together, and his head swam with dizziness. He stumbled, trying to find his balance, and accidentally slumped against Soft Feather’s side.

“Pan Sea?!” she screamed, although to the stallion it sounded like she was underwater. He felt a hoof tug on his jaw, and he didn’t have the strength to resist as it turned his head. Frightened green eyes bored directly into his, just inches away. “Pan Sea, what’s wrong?! Talk to me! Please!”

Pan Sea tried to move his lips, but his tongue felt hot and bloated, and he felt himself wheezing for breath. He reached out a shaking hoof to try and support himself on Soft Feather’s shoulder, but it slipped and sent him tumbling to the rooftop, despite his fiancée’s attempts to keep him standing.

“Help! Help!” Soft Feather screeched, cradling Pan Sea’s neck in her forelegs. “Somepony get a doctor! Somepony! Anypony! Please….!”

Then Pan Sea’s world went black and he heard no more.

As screams and cries of distress echoed across the Plaza, two figures watched the commotion from afar. Hidden safely in a belfry a few blocks away, the two ponies stood shoulder to shoulder, shrouded in shadow. They were not alone. Behind them stood a half dozen more ponies, all wearing long, gray cloaks, with mismatched swords and armor gleaming in the moonlight.

“What a truly remarkable sight,” Abaddon muttered, watching the two alicorns with a surprisingly fiery hatred. “A beautiful, peaceful day full of joy and happiness and love. I can practically taste it in the air.” He shook his head. “Too bad it won’t last. It’s just flowers on a rotting grave. You can’t fix the problems with a distraction. Soon enough their hatred will consume them, and Equestria will fall.”

He spared a glance at Typhoon, whose eyes were fixated on Commander Hurricane. The emerald color of her irises flickered magenta several times, and she placed a hoof to her temple. Frowning, Abaddon’s horn lit up with green Arcana, and immediately Typhoon let out a sigh of relief. Her emerald eyes remained emerald as the unicorn pointed to Hurricane with a hoof.

“Do you think that’s your father?” Abaddon asked her. His horn never stopped glowing, and Typhoon’s ears twitched at the ambient mana drifting around them.

“Yes,” she answered, her voice flat and without emotion, like a golem answering its creator.

“That’s not your father,” Abaddon corrected her. “Your father’s dead. That’s just his body.”

Typhoon furrowed her brow. “Just his… body?”

“Yes. Just his body.” Nudging Typhoon’s cheek, he redirected her attention to one of the nearby rooftops. “Who do you see there?”

The mare’s mane immediately bristled and she bared her teeth. Her wings snapped out, ready to launch her body into the air, but Abaddon stopped her with the slightest touch of her shoulder. Folding her wings back against her sides, Typhoon hissed, “The traitor. Star Swirl.”

Abaddon nodded. “That’s right. Tell me, Typhoon, how much do you know about necromancy?”

Typhoon blinked. “Little.”

“But surely you know that it can be used to raise the dead?” Typhoon gave a terse nod in response, and Abaddon continued. “That pony you see down there is no more your father than a corpse is a person. Apparently, Star Swirl didn’t decide to get rid of something he could use. Nobody will question his orders if they’re coming from the mouth of your father—the mouth he now controls.”

The pegasus at his side was visibly shaking in rage. “How dare he?” she spat. “He kills my dad… and then this?!”

“That’s not all,” Abaddon said. Once more he redirected Typhoon’s gaze to where a trio of legionaries were trying to resuscitate a butter yellow stallion. “Star Swirl continues to remove those that could oppose him. Your father’s friend is just the latest. Not only that, but he summons demons pretending to be your gods to control the population. You saw how the ponies of Everfree behaved today. Once the news gets out to the rest of Equestria, who knows what will happen then?”

Typhoon faltered, but her gaze remained locked on Star Swirl. “He can’t do this. We can’t let this happen.”

Abaddon nodded. “We’re running out of time. We have to remove Star Swirl before it’s too late and he cements his position with the use of all the puppets he’s created.”

“So what are we going to do?” Typhoon asked, her eyes breaking off of the archmage to look at Abaddon for instruction.

Abaddon thought it over for a moment. “We have to strike soon. Within the week. Without a useful base of operations, it’s only a matter of time before we’re rooted out and destroyed. What we need to do is catch Star Swirl off guard. Attack them on their own turf.” His eyes locked on the castle. “We need a way inside that.”

Typhoon followed his gaze to the castle. “Didn’t you say that you broke me out of its dungeons when you rescued me? Can’t we just use that entrance?”

Abaddon shook his head. “Star Swirl likely discovered it and had it sealed in the days since then. We need another way. Maybe you can help us?”

The autumn mare took a few steps closer to the side of the belfry facing the castle. Tapping a hoof against her chin, she hummed to herself. “There’s a river entrance at the northern side of the castle. The moat is fed by the river, and that means that small barges can get down it to deliver supplies. There’s a small barred gate leading up from the water’s edge that goes straight into the storage section of the castle. We can try getting in from there.”

“I see,” Abaddon said, coming to stand next to Typhoon. “Will we meet resistance?”

“Eight legionaries. A contubernium. They have high ground on the stairwell and strong defensive positions. We’d need twenty or thirty ponies to drive them out, and that’d make too much noise.”

“So we need to sneak past them.”

Typhoon nodded. “It would be the only way. Do you think we can do it?”

Abaddon only smiled at her. “Child, my Founders are exceptionally skilled at the art of disguise and deception. Getting past those guards will be easy.”

“Good. Then what?”

“Once we’re inside, we have to take down Star Swirl,” Abaddon said. “He’s likely going to have your father’s body and his devils in between us and them. Destroy them all without mercy.”

Typhoon blinked. “But my father…”

“Is dead,” Abaddon insisted. “You’ll be giving him his peace. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t Cirran tradition state that a pegasus must be buried with their wings open if they’re to go to the afterlife?”

The mare nodded slowly. “Yes…”

“Then until you can bury your father’s body, his soul is stuck in this world. Give him his rest and let him go to join his family… and your mother.”

Typhoon jolted at the mention of Swift, and her eyes flashed magenta once, but then the emerald set in again, and stronger this time. “My father deserves his rest. I’ll give it to him and make Star Swirl pay for what he’s done.”

Abaddon nodded. “Good. Good. And then, once Star Swirl is no more… then you can see Tempest again.”

The mention of her son’s name made Typhoon paw the ground and blow air out of her nose. “Tempest…” She turned and looked around her, then in a loud voice, yelled, “Well, what are we waiting for? We’ve got jobs to do; preparations to make! Come on, move it!”

Every pony present nodded and began to descend the bell tower. Typhoon glanced once over her shoulder, and seeing Abaddon nod, took off into the night skies, making her way to the river. Only when she was out of the unicorn’s sight did the green glow around his horn finally stop.

Abaddon turned once more to the Plaza. The two alicorns were nowhere to be seen, and neither was Hurricane’s little pet. The triumvirate themselves were making their way back to the castle in an elegant carriage as the ponies of Everfree dispersed around them. The black unicorn frowned as he watched them go.

“So, you finally decided to show your face, did you, Celestia? You’re just in time to see your dreams crumble to dust. You’ll pay for what you did to me, and you’ll see just how powerful I’ve become. Mark my words, even if it takes years, I’ll show you.”

Chapter 10: Mortality

The door to the Tuscanter house opened with the last rays of the twilight, dimly illuminating the atrium as two ponies staggered inside. Iron Rain and Pathfinder entered the house together, wings wrapped around each other’s bare backs and smiles on their faces. They smelled of wine and walked with heavy hooves; Rain’s scarred flank bumped against a table, nearly knocking a lamp onto the tiled floor, but neither pony much noticed. Their eyes were only for each other.

Their merry bantering and laughter led the couple to the kitchen. This time there was no armor to strip off and hang on mannequins, no weapons to polish and sheathe. They’d both been given the day of the parade off by Hurricane himself to simply enjoy themselves. After they’d reported what they’d discovered about Typhoon three days ago, the Cirran triumvir felt the couple deserved some rest. By the smell of their breath and the way they walked, talked, and laughed, it would’ve been clear to anypony present that they’d made the most of it. Pathfinder made a crude joke; Iron Rain tittered at it, a noise she never would have made in her right mind, the mind of a legate. Tonight, however, she was just a mare, a mare like any of the thousands living in Everfree City.

Glasses clinked against each other as Finder withdrew them from a cabinet and set them atop a granite island. Champagne flowed forth from a bottle Rain held in her teeth, and soon both pegasi held the drinks between the feathers of their wings. Both smiled and, with a toast of their glasses, upended them at the same time.

Rain’s hit the island first. Finder raised an eyebrow at her, a mischievous smirk breaking out across his face. Rain wiggled an eyebrow back and licked her lips. Reaching for the bottle, Finder once more filled the two of their glasses, and again, the two pegasi upended them. This time, both glasses touched the island at the same time. The eyes of both pegasi met once more, and they smiled at each other.

Hooves lifted from the ground to settle across shoulders, and mare and stallion craned their necks around one another in a loving embrace. Rain nuzzled Pathfinder’s neck, contentedly sighing into his mane. Pathfinder hummed to himself, and he let one of his hooves drop from Rain’s shoulders to trace the contours of the larger mare’s body. His hoof danced over thin white scars and iron gray fur until it reached her cutie mark, which was, fittingly enough, an enormous greatsword pointed downwards. His hoof lingered there for a moment longer before teasing just inside of her left flank, rubbing a sensitive spot he knew all too well. Rain gasped and shuddered, and her teeth found her way to Finder’s ear, where she gingerly nibbled on it while the two ponies rocked back and forth.

It was precisely at this moment that Marigold entered the kitchen with six children in tow.

With a forced cough, Finder dropped his hoof and gave Rain a quick shove to separate the two of them before the kids could really see what was happening. Rain grunted and accidentally bit hard on Finder’s ear as she separated, making the scout wince and slap a hoof to his head to try and snuff out the pain. Rain spat a few olive hairs on the floor and tried to wipe it away with a hoof, chuckling nervously to herself.

Luckily, Marigold was the only one who seemed to have noticed, even if she stood stock-still with one hoof raised on the threshold of the kitchen. Behind her, Aspen and Lavender darted around Zephyr, holding wooden swords in their mouths, while Shimmer and Gray watched from the sidelines, small smiles on their faces. Lilac was sound asleep on her mother’s back and cooed softly in her dreams.

Finder coughed awkwardly into his hoof. “Ah… H-hey.” The corner of his mouth twitched at some attempt to smile. Rubbing a hoof against his neck, Finder tried to change the subject as quickly as possible. “The, uh, kids… they enjoy the parade?”

Marigold blinked once or twice, then nodded and finally set her hoof down. “Yeah. They had a lot of fun today.” She looked over her shoulder and smiled as Zephyr single-hoofedly fought off both of the mare’s elder children. “We came across a little place that was giving out these toy swords to kids on our way back. After your heroics a few nights ago, Lavender and Aspen have been a bit inspired, to say the least.” She turned back to the two legionaries and finally entered the kitchen proper. “Your filly, Zephyr, has been great with them.”

“Well, Zephyr’s always been good with foals,” Rain said, corking the champagne and sliding it off to the side. “When Gray was born she used to always hover over his cradle and flap her little wings shouting, “Mommy, he’s getting hungry,” Rain said with a chuckle.

“After she’d stolen his pacifier at least,” Finder added with a snicker of his own. “Shimmer was the best though. She would stand guard over him each night when he slept with a toy sword her Gods-mother gave her.” Finder’s head dropped a little, though the ghost of a smile remained on his lips. Rain looked to him, her brows pinching slightly together. “Shimmer would always fall asleep though, and Rain or I would scoop her up and carry her to bed.

Shimmer blushed, her hoof kicking at the floor sheepishly. Gray spared his big sister a little glance and the barest hint of a teasing smile.

Marigold looked around herself and smiled. “Alright kiddos, let’s put the swords away for now. It’s late enough as it is.”

Both Lavender and Aspen dropped their swords and plopped on their haunches. “But Moooooom…”

“No ‘buts’,” Marigold gently insisted. “You two had a busy day today. Just look at your little sister. She’s pooped, and you two should be as well.”

“But I don’t wanna!”

“Yeah! Aspen and I aren’t tired!”

Marigold gave a small shake of her head. “Just you wait until your head hits the pillow… without bedtime snacks.”

Both foals gasped. “You wouldn’t dare…” Aspen whispered, the four year-old’s eyes like saucers.

The yellow mare shifted her weight onto her hip. “One…”

“Aaaaaah!” Lavender and Aspen squealed and sprinted up the staircase as fast as their little hooves could carry them. Marigold’s pink eyes followed them the whole way until they disappeared into their room. Then, sighing, she shook her head, rolling her shoulders to try and center Lilac’s sleeping form.

“Zephyr?” Marigold asked after a moment. “Could you fetch some milk and cookies for those two? They like to have a snack before they go to bed.”

The bouncy blue filly vigorously nodded her head and fluttered over Marigold towards the pantry. “Of course, Miss Marigold!” she warbled excitedly. She blurred past her parents and back with snacks in tow, leaving a few spiraling blue feathers in her wake as she raced up the staircase. Rain watched one twist until it finally hit the floor, then scooped it up and sighed.

“She’s such a good filly,” she murmured to herself.

“Oh, she loves the kids,” Marigold said, helping herself to a glass of champagne. The flower merchant swirled it in the glass for a moment before tossing her head back and emptying the glass like a shot. Both Finder and Rain blinked at her as she set it back down. “I could actually relax and enjoy myself today without worrying about them because Zephyr was keeping such a close eye on them.” She sighed and reached for the champagne again. “It feels good to enjoy life again. Or… well, hell, I don’t know. Maybe truly for the first time.”

Rain nodded and filled her glass after Marigold. Finder, meanwhile, waved his two other kids off with a hoof. Shimmer gave him a curt nod and ascended the steps, with Gray wordlessly following right behind. When they were gone, Finder dragged a stool out from underneath the island and rested his forelegs on the granite countertop. “Really?” he asked, then pursed his lips and held up a hoof. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Marigold shrugged. “No, it’s okay.” Sighing, she turned away and maneuvered Lilac off of her back into her wings. Pulling over a nearby foal cradle that Rain had dragged out of the attic a few days ago, Marigold gently set the sleeping pegasus foal in the blankets and covered her up. “I didn’t have a bad childhood or anything. My parents were real nice, and they did whatever they could for me. My mom was a flower merchant, too; her name was Poinsettia. My dad was an auxiliary who neglected to participate in the battle at Stratopolis, despite Hurricane’s pleas.” She returned to the island and took her glass between her hooves again, gently tapping the outside. “It was something he wasn’t proud of. He lived when his closest friends gave their lives to save Cirra. But he had a wife and a foal on the way, and he couldn’t leave us—just like Commander Hurricane, I suppose.” Her eyes briefly met Finder’s and Rain’s before they darted away in embarrassment, considering the company she was with. “I still think he made the right choice, no matter what anypony says.

“Mom died before Lavender was born… nine or ten years ago. Caught a bad fever, and we couldn’t afford to have a doctor come look at her. Being a flower merchant doesn’t exactly pay well.” Marigold shook her head. “Dad did the best he could mining cinnabar for paint and the like. His vision was too poor to be in the Legion, so he had to take what he could get.”

“What happened to him?” Rain quietly asked, fiddling with the glass in her hooves. “Have you told him where you are now?”

“He… My brother-in-law takes care of him, now,” she said, staring into her glass. “He’s… difficult to handle. Doesn’t remember me or his grandkids anymore. He says things that don’t make any sense and gets confused really easy. We all think it was the cinnabar he used to mine. The unicorns say that it’s toxic to the mind, which is why they don’t bother with the stuff. I’m inclined to believe them, now.”

“I’m sorry,” Finder whispered. “It hurts to see a family member… a friend… get their mind turned inside-out.” His hooves trembled for a minute, searching for a flask concealed in armor he wasn’t wearing. He sighed and reached for the champagne glass, but Rain caught his hoof in hers and gently drew it to her chest. The couple shared a long look into each other’s eyes. Finder’s gaze full of regrets unsaid, Rain’s full of love and concern.

“Yeah… yeah,” Marigold mumbled. “I married a gem artisan from River Rock when I was sixteen. We stuck together for seven years, and he brought in most of the money during that time. Jewelry sells a lot better than flowers do. When he left two years ago, I could hardly support myself and the kids anymore. We had to move into the slums just to find a place to stay. Thankfully, his brother took us in until we could get our hooves under us just enough to eke out some pathetic existence.” She sighed, took another sip of her champagne, and then shook her mane out. “And now, well... Look where we are!” she exclaimed, gesturing around the kitchen. “A nice house. A sturdy house. One that doesn’t leak when it rains or ice up on the inside in the winter. It’s wonderful!” She smiled and Finder and Rain. “I just… thank you. Thank you so much. You and your children have been such a bright light in our lives, such a beacon of hope, we…”

“Oh, shush,” Rain interjected, smiling easily. “It’s not like you haven’t earned it, Marigold. You’ve done some incredible things. Hell, you even saved both our lives by the river,” she said, indicating both herself and Pathfinder. “Keeping you safe from the ponies who tried to kill you and giving you someplace nice to live in is the least we could do. Besides,” she added, raising an eyebrow, “the kids get along great. It works out for everypony.”

Marigold nodded. “Yeah, and I’m really happy for that. The kids have been through so much lately, it’s good to see that they’re getting along with yours.” Her ears flattened against her head as she stifled a yawn. “Oh my! Sorry… I haven’t gotten a full night’s sleep lately.” She eyed Lilac, who gave a small kick in her sleep. “Foals. I’m sure you two remember those days all too well.”

“Yeah. Four times,” Rain said. Finder snorted and shook his head.

“Neither of us could sleep for months,” he said, absently tapping his glass with a hoof. “Soldiers wake up at the slightest disturbance. Shimmer used to scream when she cried.”

“Ugh… gods…” Rain mumbled, slapping a hoof to her brow. “Don’t remind me. That was almost as basic.”

Leaning back on her stool, Rain stretched her wings out to their full impressive span and cracked her neck. “Still, thanks for watching the kids for us today,” she said, nodding to Marigold. “It was nice for us to get some time together, just the two of us. We don’t really have much of that anymore whenever we’re not on duty.”

Finder shrugged. “I can’t help it if I like spending time with my children.”

“Please, you still baby them like they’re five. Zephyr especially.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“They’ll be soft,” Rain said, rolling her eyes. “If they were born in Nimbus, we already would’ve dropped them off in the wilderness with a knife and told them to survive the week.”

Marigold blinked. “They did that?”

“Oh yes. And as Lord Winter Rain’s daughter, I was expected to do it, too,” Rain said, a proud smirk on her face. “Of course, my brother thought it would be funny to give me a broken knife hidden by the sheath. I didn’t find the joke funny when I was trying to cut vines with my teeth to build shelter.”

“Oh, jeez. I can’t imagine you were too happy with him when you finally got back.”

“I found some poison ivy when I was down there and wrapped it in a bundle of cloth I made from the ruins of my shirt,” Rain said. “When my dad finally picked me up, I crushed it with a brick and smeared it all over the inside of my brother’s armor. Oh, the look on his face…” She snorted hard and slapped a hoof against the island. “He was on guard duty that day. In front of Dad, too. I’ve never seen a more miserable stallion in my life.”

The three ponies couldn’t help but share a laugh at that. “Oh gods! I can only imagine,” Marigold said, wiping a tear from her eye. “It’s stories like that that make me wish I wasn’t an only child.”

Behind her, Lilac began to fuss, disturbed from her sleep by the laughter. Shaking her head, Marigold immediately slid off the stool and reached into the cradle, hoisting out a bundle of blankets and the foal they ensconced. Shushing and patting the hiccupping foal on the back, Marigold began to slowly pace around the kitchen. “There, there, it’s alright, little filly,” she said, gently rocking the foal back to sleep. She turned towards Finder and Rain and gave them an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I should probably get her to sleep and see how my kids are doing. Then…” she interrupted herself with a loud yawn, “Then I’m going to check out, myself.”

“Fair enough,” Finder said, finishing off the last of his drink. “We probably won’t be too much longer, ourselves.”

Marigold nodded and made her way towards the staircase. “Alrighty then. Have a good night’s sleep, you two. I’ll see you in the morning!”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Rain said, shooting bedroom eyes at Finder. “I don’t think there’ll be much sleeping tonight…”

The flower merchant blinked at them, and then just as quickly her surprised expression turned to a frown. “Think you can keep it down this time? You two are louder than you think, and I’d like to get some sleep tonight.”

And with those choice words, Marigold ascended the stairs, leaving the military couple rather speechless.

The world came back to Pan Sea in a searing flash brighter than a funeral pyre; for a brief moment, he thought that was exactly what it was given the burning sensation that accompanied it.

Wheezing, the stallion opened his eyes, trying to make sense of the bright lights in front of him. It took him several agonizing moments to concentrate enough to focus on what he was seeing; he was in terrible agony from head to hooves, like somepony had burnt off his flesh, peeled back the char, and salted what was left. It hurt to move his eyes, it hurt to blink, and it hurt to breathe.

He recognized the castle’s infirmary after a few seconds of pained blinking to try and focus on his surroundings. It must’ve been late in the afternoon, judging by the amber light the setting sun shed on the walls. Tilting his head proved to be an incredibly painful motion, but he could just barely see another pony dozing off in a seat by his bed.

“S… Sah…”

Every motion of his tongue left his mouth feeling like it had been burned with acid. His lungs sucked down another shuddering breath despite the pain it brought to his body. He closed his eyes and wheezed while trying to hold as still as possible. The gentle pressure of the blankets atop him provided some comfort to his agony.

“Pan Sea?”

A wooden chair groaned as it was dragged across the stone floor, and a gentle touch on Pan Sea’s shoulder made him open his eyes. He hissed in pain and clenched his teeth, only to see the worried face of his fiancée inches away from his muzzle. Soft Feather immediately withdrew and clutched her hoof against her chest, as if trying to restrain it from hurting him again.

“I’m so sorry!” she blurted, nervously hovering over Pan Sea’s bed. It was all too apparent that she wanted to bury his face in her fur and hold him tight, but she knew that would only do more harm than good. “It’s just—oh, thank the gods you’re alright!”

With a deep breath, Pan Sea was able to make the pain in his shoulder mostly recede so he could actually look at Soft Feather without contorting his face in agony. Her pearly white coat was matted from sitting in the chair for hours on end, her mane was a frazzled mess, and her eyes were bloodshot and baggy. She grabbed a pitcher of water with her hooves and poured Pan Sea a small glass, glancing at him like she was worried he’d disappear in an instant. The centurion couldn’t help but notice the small bite marks on her hooves, indicative of a night of anxious chewing.

“You…” Pan Sea struggled, trying to let his breaths form words as painlessly as possible, “you didn’t stay up all night… did you?” Every word was a knife he fought to force out between parched and scalding lips.

Soft Feather gave him a tired smile. “Oh, don’t worry about me. You’re the one who almost died! Come on, let’s get you seated upright,” she said, setting the cup of water she had just poured back on the bedside table.

As gently as she could manage, Soft Feather helped Pan Sea inch upwards into a sitting position. Every single motion was pure agony for the veteran soldier, but he endured it in silence for Soft Feather’s sake, despite the anguish that it caused him. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of excruciating pain, Pan Sea was sitting up enough that he could open his wings and let them fall to either side of the bed. The simple motion of airing out his feathers seemed to dissipate much of the pain in his wings.

His fiancée offered the glass to him again with a worried expression. “Are you thirsty?” she murmured. “You’ve been asleep for a full day.” Once the pain had subsided a bit, he decided he’d chance a sip, praying to any gods that might be listening it would stay down.

It was probably the greatest thing he had ever tasted, fresher than spring rain and crisper than a summer’s night.

Soft Feather took the cup from him when he was done and set it on the nightstand. With an exhausted sigh, she collapsed into her chair, but didn’t dare take her eyes off of Pan Sea for a moment. She sat there, chin resting in her hooves, with a concerned smile on her face while Pan Sea started to breathe easier.

Eventually, the canary stallion tilted his head towards her and noticed her expression. “What’re you smiling about?” he asked in a raspy voice, paired with the curling of his own lips.

“I love you,” Soft Feather said, imperceptibly leaning closer to him. “I love you so much.”

“Heh… I love you too,” Pan Sea weakly answered. Grunting, he mustered what energy he could to reach his hoof out towards his fiancée, who reached for it with her own—

“Let him rest,” came an authoritative voice from over Soft Feather’s shoulder. The mare jumped and recoiled, bowing her head. “You will only make his condition worse.”

An unfamiliar mare approached Pan Sea’s bed, and the stallion’s heart nearly stopped when he realized she was hardly an ordinary pony. She was a powerfully built mare with an ivory coat of abnormally long fur and a blood red mane crowning equally scarlet eyes. Draconian wings hung folded at her sides, complementing her slitted pupils and the large fangs seemingly holding up her lower lip. Adorning her flank was a serpent coiled around a staff, its mouth open and fangs bared. The creature’s predatory eyes narrowed at Soft Feather for a moment, making the mortal mare shudder, before the thestral walked up to Pan Sea’s side.

“Mistress put me in charge of your health,” the draconian mare said, slitted eyes locked on Pan Sea’s. “She deemed it a matter of particular importance, considering your friendship with Commander Hurricane.”

Pan Sea swallowed hard. “Uh… thanks,” he managed, unable to take his eyes away from the thestral’s glistening fangs. “Just—who are you, again?”

The mare blinked once, then stepped rigidly back. “My name no longer has any meaning, and it wouldn’t interest you anyway. You may call me Second Sister, and I’ve saved dozens of ponies who’ve been worse off than you in my life. Suffice it to say I know more about what I’m doing than many of the ‘doctors’ running around this place.” Her fangs parted enough around her lower lips to show the barest hint of a smile, and the tiniest sliver of the rest of the deadly teeth hidden within her maw.

Soft Feather nodded from where she sat. “It’s okay, honey. She hasn’t left the room since Lūn—er, Luna put her here. Even when I dozed off for a few minutes, she took care of you. She’s nice enough, even if she is a bit…”

“Unsettling?” Second Sister dryly offered. “Frightening? Dead?”

Pan Sea blinked. “Sorry?”

Second Sister shrugged. “It’s not as bad as you’d think, honestly.”

“Not as bad as...” Pan Sea echoed, trying to make sense of the mare’s words. His eyes suddenly widened and he mouthed a little ‘oh’ before putting on a faint smile. “Oh, I get it. I thought it was just the fangs at first, but your accent is Nimban, isn’t it?” He gave a imperceptible shake of his head. “I never understood Nimban humor.”

But instead of the friendly reaction he was expecting, the thestral’s fanged lips downturned. “Don’t mention Nimbus,” she harshly ordered, nostrils flaring just the slightest bit.

Feather flattened her ears. “Yeah… sorry.” Then she brightened a bit. “Luna herself came to see you, though. Her thestrals,” and here she nodded towards Second Sister, “were able to get you to the castle almost as soon as you passed out. Then she came to see you herself and did some weird magic stuff on you.” She shuddered. “It… it was scary.”

“Weird magic stuff?” Pan Sea echoed, looking towards the thestral. “What does that mean?”

“You had a highly concentrated extract of aconite in your blood,” Second Sister said. “Wolfsbane, if you’re more familiar with that name. It is a paralytic poison which was preventing your heart or lungs from functioning properly. The only way to remove it in time to save your life was to purge your bloodstream, so the Mistress used her own magic to hijack your Empatha and burn the poison away from the inside out.” She nodded slightly to Pan Sea’s trembling limbs. “It was not an easy thing to do, and the reason your body feels like it’s been burned is because it was. Since it was your own magic, however, it did not kill you.”

Pan Sea nodded faintly. “So, like what Hurricane did when he was poisoned by Streak Wing…” he said, more to himself than anything. Then he offered the thestral a faint smile. “Please, thank Luna for me. I owe Her my life.”

“You are most certainly welcome.”

From the doorway came Luna, her ethereal mane and tail billowing out around her on some unfelt breeze. Her sharp teal eyes danced from Pan Sea to Second Sister to Soft Feather, and her lengthy strides brought her to the foot of Pan Sea’s bed in seconds. Soft Feather moved to offer the alicorn her seat, but Luna declined with a small wave of her hoof.

“Lūn,” Pan Sea breathed, eyes wide as saucers as he slipped back into her Cirran name. He shifted and groaned as he started to bow, but a cautionary wing from Second Sister held in front of his muzzle forced him back into a reclined position. Head held back the the mare’s draconian wing, he could only avert his eyes at the sight of his goddess.

“Luna,” the dark alicorn corrected him. “Although either is fine by me. My sister is the one who insists on being called Celestia. It particularly bothers her when you mortals praise her as a goddess.”

At the continued stunned silence in the room, Luna blew a breath through flared nostrils and rolled her eyes. “Although, I too have a particular dislike for gawking. Now, how are you feeling?”

Pan Sea blinked. “B-better, my Lady,” he said, in an almost reverent quiet. “Second Sister told me that you helped get the poison out of my veins. I’m just—I’m extremely grateful.” His eyes locked with Soft Feather’s emerald irises. “We both are.”

“It was a simple poison, really,” Luna said with a dismissive wave of her hoof. “An apothecary easily could have procured an antidote, but since all the stores were closed for the holiday, that would have been an impossible measure. Thankfully, I’ve dealt with my fair share of poisons in my life.” A proud smile pulled at her lips. “There is not a one that has been able to best my knowledge—or even more importantly, best me.”

“But she said that you ‘hijacked’ his Empatha or something,” Soft Feather said, gesturing towards Second Sister. “I don’t even get what that means.”

“Oh, that?” Luna asked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s the simple application of a possession spell. I took over your body and triggered your fire Empatha to burn the toxin away. Fairly old necromancy, but I’ve found uses for it from time to time.”

Luna received three different stares for her remarks. One filled with curiosity, marked by a single raised eyebrow, from Second Sister, a continued awestruck one from the injured Pan Sea, and a slightly horrified one from Soft Feather. In the ensuing awkward silence, Luna licked her lips and shrugged. “Ah. Right. I forgot that Tia and I removed those spells from the Grimoire a long time ago.”

It was Second Sister who eventually broke the silence. “Well, you’re better now because of it, so it couldn’t have been too bad. For now, however, it’s best that you get your rest.” Her wings glowed with a strange red light, almost like a unicorn’s magic seen through warped glass, and Pan Sea yelped as he was pulled back down onto his back by an invisible force. Soft Feather opened her mouth in protest, but the thestral silenced her with a look and a slight baring of her fangs. “His body will recover better if he lies down. Trust me. Then you two can get back to joyous ‘I’m glad you’re not dead’ rutting faster than if you ponies ignore me.”

Both Pan Sea’s and Soft Feather’s faces turned bright red. Luna, on the other hoof, snorted and shook her head. “Alright, you heard the doctor’s orders,” the alicorn finally said. Her midnight magic wrapped around Soft Feather’s chair and dragged it away from Pan Sea’s bed. “And you look like you could use some real, honest rest. Sleep easier knowing that your fiancé will live.”

Soft Feather weakly protested, as simply being in Luna’s presence seemed to make her more and more exhausted by the second. “But… but…”

“Hush now, quiet now,” Luna hummed, her voice like a brook under the starlight, “It’s time to lay your sleepy head…”

The white mare’s eyes fought in vain to stay open, but the effort was futile. Within seconds they were shut, and Soft Feather curled up like a foal in Luna’s magic. Nodding to Pan Sea, Luna gently levitated his fiancée through the air. “I will find a room for her. She will rest for now, and will see you on the morrow. When you’re both well-rested.”

“Yeah…” Pan Sea said, feeling a yawn come over him. He stifled it with a hoof. “Thank you, Luna.”

Luna slowly bowed her head. “Rest easy, my little pony.” And, just as swiftly as she had arrived, the alicorn vanished once more into the castle, leaving her thestral to watch after Pan Sea.

Second Sister watched the doorway for a full minute, unblinking and silent, before she finally relaxed and breathed easier. She regarded Pan Sea with her slitted crimson eyes for a moment before going to a table of medical supplies and arranging them with the thumbs on her draconian wings. “I will admit,” she said after a while, without turning her head towards her patient, “it feels good to finally help ponies again.”

Pan Sea blinked. “Pardon?”

The thestral didn’t answer right away. “I used to be a medic. I helped ponies. But that was a lifetime ago.” She looked up to the window, nostrils flaring for a brief moment. “It’s been a quiet five years.”

“Erm… I still don’t follow.”

Second Sister shot him a look over her shoulder, as if she just realized he was lying there. “Don’t worry about it. Focus on resting. We’ll get you back on your hooves in no time.” She gave him one last nod. “Nihil erit post Legionem, soldier.”

Twister hated armor.

She hated everything about it. She hated how heavy it was, always weighing down on her shoulders even when she sat down to rest. She hated how the metal plates chafed her sides and stood as an annoying layer of skysteel keeping her from resting her wings flat against her sides. She hated how it absorbed the summer heat, trapping her sweat against her coat and nearly roasting her alive.

But what she hated the most about it was how outrageous it made her look, sitting in Parliament surrounded by ponies wearing suits and robes. Being Cirra’s Legatus, she wore a skysteel cuirass trimmed with gold and adorned with a scarlet cloak draped over her left shoulder, concealing a sword of pure gold strapped to her side, a holdover from the politics of the pegasi years long since passed.

Honestly, she did find that it added to her presence, but she really would’ve preferred wearing one of her linen stolas hemmed with gold thread over the heavy Legatus armor. She didn’t know how her brother or niece wore it all day, every day, without complaint. Or maybe they did complain, and she just never heard it…

Her mind snapped back to the meeting in front of her. She was in a semi-circular room centered about a large marble speaking area behind which stood three large desks. The room was divided into thirds by race, with the earth pony majority making up the center wedge and the smaller pegasus and unicorn factions on either side. The curved marble benches were all filled with the politicians and representatives of Equestria and the population from all across its limited territory, while at the three desks, the figures of Platinum and Puddinghead sat next to Celestia, who was resting in the seat normally reserved for Hurricane.

Twister blinked lazily. Once again, her brother had skipped an important meeting, but Celestia herself had seized the opportunity to sit in on the Equestrian Parliament by taking his place. Twister had to admire the alicorn’s gumption. She could read Celestia’s body language like an open book, and even though the alicorn didn’t really follow what was being discussed around her, she was doing her best to stay focused and interested. She was even managing to keep pace with Platinum, who wore her usual neutral mask that hid both her boredom and her sharp political wit, and Puddinghead, who only ever showed a mote of brainpower when it came to political meetings. Right now, the three ponies, as well as Parliament as a whole, were listening to Mayor Greenleaf conclude his official report on the state of Everfree after the previous day’s parade.

“…analysts reporting increased business all across the city. I’ve even heard from some of my peers that the arrival of Lunis and Celestis—” and here he paused just long enough to nod at Celestia “—have calmed things down in the frontiers as well. Even the merchants from the Horseatic League slowed down long enough to spend some time in town and forget about bits and baubles for a while.”

“Which is why I said that we should have this holiday every year! And maybe have a big party every month!” Puddinghead exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his seat. “If this thing did so much for Equestria in just one day, imagine what twelve of them would do!”

“Chancellor, please,” came Platinum’s bored voice. Adjusting her crown, she sat up straighter. “It hardly becomes a special event when it happens all the time. Not to mention the costs. My economic advisors could spend days dissecting the logistics alone, but we won’t go into that.” Her sapphire eyes turned towards Twister, and the Legatus perked her ears up. “I’m sure the Legatus has some things to contribute as well.”

Greenleaf looked from Platinum to Twister, where he met the Cirran mare’s eyes. Twister wasn’t sure what she saw in them—the Mayor was as skilled a politician as she was—but it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. With one last flourish and bow to Celestia, Greenleaf nodded to the crowd and trotted off of the floor just as Twister stepped upon it.

Twister began with a swift salute to the three ponies above her, extending her wings parallel to the ground and snapping her back rigid like a legionary rather than curtsying like a unicorn. Celestia seemed almost surprised at the militant discipline, but both Platinum and Puddinghead were used to it. It was how Swift Spear had told her to address the Senate when she was just starting out, and Twister had carried it over throughout her entire political career. The gesture was a show of confidence and strength, promising harsh reprisal if her authority was undermined, yet it was also one of discipline and fealty, pledging her best to further the goals of her nation.

Turning about so she could face the rest of Parliament, Twister shifted in her armor. She felt a piece of paper hidden within the cuirass cling to her sweaty coat, containing a message she’d already memorized. Clearing her throat, she stepped forward. “I’ve analyzed the debriefings Commander Hurricane sent my way with regards to yesterday’s parades,” she began, eyes watching the earth pony majority and unicorn minority. “The centurions in the city reported an overall decrease in violent crime, especially in the areas neighboring the Choke, for the first time in seven months. There was an increase in petty theft and vandalism, but that was to be expected, given the circumstances. There are other figures I could give you, but frankly, they’re unimportant, and Lady Celestia is already bored enough as it is.”

Behind her, her ears caught the rapid shifting of wings as Celestia quickly sat up as straight as she could manage. Smiling faintly, Twister stared at the ground for a few moments to gather her thoughts before starting again. “Instead, I have a proposal for this chamber to deliberate upon, with Her Majesty’s permission.”

“The Triumvirate acknowledges your proposal,” Platinum droned as neutrally as the expression she wore.

Twister nodded. “Thank you, Your Highness.” Shuffling her feathers into order, Twister began to pace an arc in front of the semicircular seating area. “I think it is clear to all of us that Everfree is not one city, but two. For all our talk about this being a city of the ever-free, half of the ponies who call this place their home suffer unbearable oppression. Slavery, even, to a government that has turned its back on them.”

She stopped pacing, her golden eyes sweeping back and forth over everypony present and her ears picking up on their displeased murmurs. Everywhere she looked, she saw frowns and disgust. Snapping her tail like a whip, she pivoted on her hooves and started walking the opposite direction. “We all know the Choke well enough. A strip of no-pony’s land that separates the good from the bad, the light from the dark, the rich from the poor. It has been manned by a legion for six months like a border with a hostile nation. But why? Why is it so important that we shun and suppress ponies, Equestrians, that came to this land on the promise that things would be better, simply because they’re poorer than those of us that can live in the city proper?

“I will not stand for it any more,” Twister continued. “Therefore, in light of the peace and harmony that was brought to the city with yesterday’s parade, a festivity aptly named Unity Day, we should unify the city once more. Senators, representatives, lords and barons, I propose that the Choke be abolished and the slums rebuilt, once and for all.”

The mutterings increased to a full uproar as ponies reacted to the proposal. Shouting directed at Twister, both for and against her proposal, rose up out of the crowd. Amidst it all, Greenleaf stood up from the crowd, a displeased frown on his face. “The Choke has done a great deal for us, Legatus! You know that the riots were stirred up by malcontents from the slums. We can’t afford to have ponies burning buildings and tearing down storefronts throughout the entire city. Better to keep them contained to someplace less important than ruining our centers of trade, business, and governance!”

Twister abruptly came to a halt and whirled on Greenleaf. “What sort of a mayor are you, Greenleaf? You only care for those who play nice? Who live by your rules? Ponies that don’t cause a stir and don’t dig too deep into your pockets? You—!”

“I am a mayor who cares for the well-being of my citizens!” Greenleaf interrupted, stomping a hoof down on the marble in front of him. “Seventy-nine ponies died in the last riot; just a little more than a week ago, in case you’d forgotten! Over a hundred more were injured! And this even with your brother’s legions keeping the Choke ‘safe’ and protecting the castle! Can you imagine what sort of Tartarus we would bring down upon ourselves if the Choke were suddenly gone?”

“Tartarus?” Twister exclaimed, an angry glare on her face, “Do you think that the Equestrians who live in the slums live in anything but Tartarus?! Life is hell for them because of the policies this Parliament has enacted, the policies my brother has begrudgingly enforced, and the policies that ultimately led to the loss of my niece, heir to the pegasus triumvir! It is time that we stop living as three separate nations and start living as one!”

“Order!!!”

Three heavy stomps of a hoof accompanied the magically-amplified voice, drawing the eyes of everypony present to the centermost seat at the back of the room. There Queen Platinum stood, forehooves resting on opposite corners of her desk and the ghostly illumination of her blue Arcana fading from her horn shadowing her enraged expression. Puddinghead jolted awake, barely keeping his hat on his head, while Celestia leaned away from the smaller mare, eyes wide with surprise.

Parliament hung in silence for several moments. “There will be order in this congress, or there will be no congress at all,” Platinum hissed, her voice low, almost deadly. Her ice-blue eyes darted back and forth across the crowd, and the curls of her royal mane bobbed up and down with each haggard breath. “Am I understood?”

The threat masquerading as a question seemed to echo in the silence for days. Even Twister had to respect its potency; Platinum was a frighteningly shrewd politician, and she knew how to wield her royal authority like a sword sharper than any in the Legion. A show of small nods throughout the building, even from Twister herself, answered the Queen, and Platinum let some of the fire drain from her expression.

Twister rarely ever felt intimidated in Parliament, but when Platinum’s icy blue eyes met hers, she felt a shiver run through her body. “Legatus,” Platinum began, unwavering and unblinking, “Your proposal will be discussed by the Triumvirate. If it is approved, then it will be put to Parliament for them to decide what to do with it. However, it does not have my support, so it is unlikely that it will pass.”

From the crowd, Greenleaf smiled and gave a slight dip of his head in appreciation.

Twister licked her lips and gathered the resolve to match Platinum’s stare. “Your Majesty, if I may,” she said, taking a small step forward. “Perhaps you should abstain from this decision.”

Platinum narrowed her eyes at Twister. “Excuse me?”

“Your Highness, I understand that this is a matter close to your heart. We all mourn the loss of your husband, but none more so than you. The riots that started after his assassination did indeed come from the slums, but the Choke is not the right way to solve this problem. Is it not unreasonable to believe that your judgment may be biased in this decision on account of the circumstances?”

Mayor Greenleaf started to speak up from the sidelines, but Platinum silenced him with an angry glare. Her eyes then turned back to Twister, furious. “If I am biased, then what about your brother, Commander Hurricane?” she began, her voice low. “This is your proposal. A matter of such national importance should not be handled by those closest to the source of the proposal. If I abstain, then he must as well, and who would be left to vote on this decision?”

“Me!” Puddinghead exclaimed from Platinum’s side.

Platinum didn’t take her eyes off Twister. “This decision will not—can not— be handled by one pony alone. There is no other way to handle it, even if it does pass Parliament’s vote.”

“If it please Your Highness, I believe there is,” Twister said, a small smile coming to her face. Her golden eyes broke contact with Platinum’s and traveled towards the Queen’s right, where they settled on Celestia. The alicorn blinked in surprise as Twister continued. “Why not ask our goddesses themselves to help settle this decision?”

Greenleaf stood up once more to object, but under the eyes of Parliament, he lost whatever words he had to say. The politicians began to whisper among themselves. Would the Mayor really speak against two goddesses? Would he possibly doubt their wisdom? Backed into a corner, the stallion’s face twisted into some nameless expression and he shot Twister a smile that barely held back his rage. “Very clever, Legatus.”

Twister returned perhaps the smuggest of smiles ever recorded in history. “Thank you, Mayor.”

From up high, Platinum turned to face Celestia. “This is not for us to demand of them. We can only ask. So, what do you say, Celestis?”

Celestia blinked a few times, and her throat bobbed as she struggled to give an answer in her confusion. It came shortly, however, with a sort of wise conviction only Celestia could give. “My sister and I would be honored to aid the Triumvirate, Your Highness.”

Platinum nodded. “The Triumvirate thanks you.” Turning back to Parliament, she stomped her hoof once on the desk. “We will deliberate the matter in question, and we ask that you do so as well. Voting on this proposal will take place in one week’s time.”

Twister shook her head, and her smile grew a touch wider. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I’m afraid we don’t have the time to wait a week.”

The ivory queen blinked. “I’m sorry?”

Twister shifted in her armor so once again she could feel the message scrape against her coat. “I received a missive earlier today,” she said, eyes wandering over the politicians in front of her, “that an envoy from the Crystal Union would be arriving in Everfree in three days’ time to pay their respects to Celestia and Luna.”

Stunned silence gave way to confused murmurs. Platinum herself stood at the top of the proceedings, her mouth agape. With one last upturn of her lips, Twister bowed low to Platinum and Puddinghead. “We should make a decision quickly, Your Highness. First impressions are everything.”

Commander Hurricane felt the dirt crunch beneath his hooves with each fluid step of his body. The hot afternoon sun bathed him in its light, attempting to roast the stallion inside of his own armor. Rivulets of sweat ran down Hurricane’s brow and muzzle before dropping onto the dirt below, paltry offerings to the parched earth. With a frown, the pegasus commander closed his eyes and summoned a burst of ice Empatha to freeze the sweat into frost on his forehead and along his wings. He’d already done it several times while he was out in the courtyard, buying a brief moment of respite from the heat with his channeled sorrow.

It came so easily to him now.

Hurricane’s hooves took him in a slow circle around nothing. He stood alone in an empty courtyard behind the castle, in full armor and with the Gladius Procellarum gripped between his jaws. The taste of copper lingered in his mouth, a reminder that he wasn’t as young as he used to be. A particularly vicious strike into and through the side of a skysteel training dummy had nearly torn his sword, along with two or three of his teeth, from his mouth. After that, he’d decided to spar with the open air.

With a deep breath, Hurricane closed his eyes and launched into a flurry of motions. His sword was no longer a weapon held in his teeth; it was an extension of his body, as natural as a hoof or a wing, and he had perfect control over every inch of skysteel. The slat in the body of the sword howled as it tore through the wind, releasing a shrill whistle that had terrorized many an opponent in its years of service. In the eye of Hurricane’s fantasy, the weapon cleaved through rebel after rebel, cutting a bloody swath to where his daughter lay, bound, bloodied, and beaten, entirely at the mercy of her captors.

The phantoms rushed Hurricane one by one, and Hurricane laid them low with fearsome blows struck at a terrifying speed and fury. Steel, blood, flesh, and bone; all were sundered in mighty swings that left the dark stallion coated in crimson. Some opponents tried to feint or juke, but Hurricane was much too quick for them. Jabs at his shoulders were deflected with slices from his bladed wings; lunges at his flanks were caught on the end of his sword as he nearly bent his neck over his shoulders to block them. A pair of shadowy figures jumped at Hurricane from both sides, and the veteran rolled towards one. His wings swept his opponent’s hooves out from underneath him, allowing Hurricane to catch the rebel on his unshod hooves and kick him into the lunging form of the second rebel. Both collided in midair and hit the ground without a sound; Hurricane’s imagination was already focused elsewhere.

A tall, imposing figure encased in armor stepped forward to meet Hurricane. Not an inch of the pony’s skin was visible; it was more like a skysteel golem, built only to kill and destroy. It approached Hurricane with slow, heavy steps, hefting a greatsword the length of two ponies nose to tail off of one shoulder. The goliath released an unearthly growl and stomped a metal hoof towards Hurricane.

The pegasus was already in the air, corkscrewing out of his vertical jump and lunging directly at the monstrosity. The golem swung its enormous sword in a broad, slow arc; no challenge for the legendary pegasus commander. Twisting his wings skyward and giving them a powerful flap, Hurricane soared over the sword and struck directly at the monstrosity’s helmet. Procellarum flared to life, the Empatha-fueled blade slicing through the helm of the giant pony as if Hurricane was cutting through air. With a last howl of pain, the goliath toppled over, the ground trembling as it slammed to the earth. There was nothing left now between Hurricane and—

“Commander?”

Hurricane opened his eyes, and his fantasy world faded away, swiftly uprooted by reality. The amber light of the setting sun was already slipping behind the harsh stone roofs of the buildings surrounding the courtyard, casting long shadows across the grass and upon Hurricane’s panting body. Two deep breaths followed by one slow and prolonged inhalation steadied the legendary warrior, and with a smooth and practiced motion, Hurricane sheathed his gladius. Turning in place, Hurricane swept a wing across his chest and bowed. “Lady Celestia. What brings you here? Tired of politics?”

Celestia approached with lengthy strides, her mane billowing out behind her with each impressive step. She chuckled at Hurricane’s question and gave a small shake of her head. “Not at all, actually. You may find it hard to believe, but I find politics wonderfully entertaining. Worship... not so much. Parliament just ended a few minutes ago, and I wasn’t in the mood for being mobbed by hundreds of senators.”

A smirk pulled at the corner of Hurricane’s mouth. “You sound just like my sister.”

Finally reaching Hurricane, Celestia pivoted on her hooves and sat down in the grass, gesturing for him to do the same. “You know, your sister caused quite a stir today in Parliament,” she said with a laugh.

Hurricane raised an eyebrow. “Did she?”

“Oh, yes. She seemed like she was quite enjoying herself.”

“Of course she was,” Hurricane muttered, shaking his head. Sighing, he slowly sat down next to Celestia and let his wings fall open at his sides. “She always liked attention, even when she was little. Especially when she was little.” He chuckled. “She was always better at working with other ponies than I was. Handling other ponies… it’s her talent.”

“It sure seemed like it,” Celestia said. “But I thought her mark was a tornado?”

“So?” Hurricane asked, his eyes turning towards the clouds. “Just because it’s a tornado doesn’t mean it has to be about tornadoes. She’s actually one of the worst bad-weather fliers I’ve ever seen; a little wind shear will put her out of the air. No, she has that cutie mark because she’s great at causing a proverbial storm whenever she feels like it.”

“I’d love to hear that story.”

“There’s not much of a story to it,” Hurricane said, shrugging his wings. “She got it at flight drills when she was… seven? Eight?” He shook his head. “Forgive me, it was a long time ago. Anyway, the instructors, mostly ex-legionaries that’d settled down in the countryside, would give whichever team of youth that did the best in the day’s practices a reward. Usually treats or some small baubles from the capital. One day, Twister decided that she didn’t feel like competing for the apple pie that was supposed to be that day’s prize, so she snuck into the little schoolhouse while the rest of the kids were doing flight maneuvers and helped herself to a piece. One of the other kids saw her, and threatened to tell the adults on her, but she offered him a slice to keep quiet and not say a word about it.”

Celestia raised an eyebrow. “I see she had already mastered bribery.”

“That wasn’t the worst of it,” Hurricane continued. “While the kid was helping himself to a slice, Twister went outside and started sending as many kids as she could from her team to grab a slice before it was all gone. Then she told the other team about it, and before anypony knew what was happening, there was a fight in the schoolhouse over the pie. Twister went and told the adults, who stormed the building like it was a griffon longhouse and whipped everypony inside for misbehaving. Except for Twister; she got another piece of pie all to herself for being a good filly and telling the adults what was going on.”

Hurricane scoffed and shook his head. “In the end, Twister left camp that day with two pieces of pie in her belly, all the pride in the world, a cutie mark on her flank, and absolutely no evidence whatsoever that she was the one who started it all.”

Celestia snorted quietly to herself, leaving Hurricane squinting in surprise at the lack of regality of the noise. “Mmmf… Yes, I could definitely see traces of that in her today when she took the floor. She turned Parliament into a madhouse.” She cocked her head. “Twister doesn’t usually get Queen Platinum to snap at the politicians, does she?”

Hurricane’s brow furrowed and his tone became more serious. “No… What did she do?”

“She proposed the removal of this thing called the Choke,” she said with a measured smile.

The stallion’s armor rattled as he shot straight onto his hooves. “No,” he said, forcefully, “Absolutely not. There is no way that—How could she—What is she thinking?”

He began to pace furiously across the courtyard, and little embers of anger fell from his feathers. Celestia looked on in worry, hoof outstretched as if trying to will the pegasus to stop, until Hurricane abruptly turned and opened his wings. “I need to talk to her—”

“Commander,” she said, attempting to press the stallion’s wings back against his sides with a glow of golden Arcana. Hurricane’s enchanted armor cried out in protest as it ate the alicorn’s magic, and only with a second effort did Celestia succeed. Standing up, she approached him once more, taking the anger directed at her for her interference in stride. Silence hung between them until she rested her hoof on Hurricane’s shoulder and looked him in the eyes. “Despite my feigned naivety earlier, I know what the Choke is. It needs to go, Hurricane. It’s been long enough.”

Hurricane scowled. “Those bastards stole her from me. They stole my daughter, split her mind open like a melon and gutted every bit of her from it, turned her against me—!”

“Those ponies living on the other side of the Choke have done nothing to deserve the neglect that you’ve forced on them by isolating them,” Celestia interrupted, her voice never once raising in volume. “They have done nothing wrong, and they’re being punished for it. The strife caused by rebels and revolutionaries—which I’ve not seen hide nor hair of since my sister and I arrived, mind you—cannot be fixed by condemning innocents. To put it simply, Hurricane, you can stop a nosebleed by slitting a pony’s throat, but that doesn’t mean you’re helping them get better.”

Hurricane stood in silence for several seconds. “When is the vote being held?”

“There is no vote,” Celestia said. “It is up to Luna and I to decide, and we have already decided in favor of your sister’s proposal.”

The pegasus took a deep breath. “‘The pegasus that chases the sun will never know where he’s going if he doesn’t know when to stop.’”

Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“It’s an old Cirran proverb,” Hurricane said. “It means that before you start something, you should know where you want to end it and how you’re going to get there. Getting rid of the Choke is a start, and the unity of Everfree is the end. But how are we going to get there if we haven’t thought this out? Right now, it’ll only end in even more chaos and death before we go back to the old ways, and after that, there won’t be a second chance.”

“Acceptance, love, tolerance,” Celestia said, smiling gently at Hurricane. “Helping those who need help. If you prove to the ponies living in the slums that you only want to help them, and that the rest of Everfree is willing to accept them as family, then there won’t be a reason for the riots anymore. There won’t be any more death.”

“There will always be death,” Hurricane muttered. Sighing, he shook his head, magenta eyes staring forlornly at the grass. “We can only try to limit it as best we can by doing the best we can.” He looked back to Celestia and loosened his wings. “I’m willing to support however I can if you think it’s the right thing to do, but I will not yield the Choke suddenly. It will take time to properly integrate things so we don’t have a disaster on our hooves.”

Celestia bowed her head. “Thank you, Hurricane.”

The stallion nodded. “I trust your judgment. Doubtless the rest of Parliament will, too, but you didn’t come here just to talk politics with me until the sun goes down.” He raised an eyebrow. “Am I right?”

“Don’t worry, I know enough to know that Twister is the mare I should talk to if I’m ever feeling political,” Celestia said. “I mostly wanted to see how you’re doing.”

Hurricane narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m handling things just fine, but thanks for your concern.”

“Hurricane…” Celestia started, slowly shaking her head. “I know you’re suffering. That much was apparent during the parade. But apart from that, I feel like I haven’t spoken to you in the days since we first met. You’ve been very reclusive, and it’s been hard to track you down until now.”

The pegasus took a breath and looked away, staring out into space but not quite seeing anything. “Why does she matter to you?” Hurricane asked, his voice trembling. “Why does my life matter to you?” He turned his eyes towards Celestia, a hint of accusation under a blanket of sorrow. “There are tens of thousands of ponies in Everfree. Many of them have lost a child as well. Some have lost two, or three, or four. Out there are ponies that have seen their families slaughtered and raped by barbarians, their homes burnt to the ground, their lives destroyed… There are so many that have been through worse than me.”

The corners of his eyes shone with restrained tears. “You are a goddess of kindness and peace…” he whispered, gently poking a shaking hoof into Celestia’s chest. “You can make them feel so much better, and they need your kindness so much more than me. So why is my pain more important than theirs?”

“Because of the way you put everyone else before yourself. And because you are my first friend from the outside world in a long time,” Celestia said. The alicorn gently extended a wing over Hurricane’s armored shoulders to steady him. “I didn’t know what to expect of you. Before you walked into that room, all I’d heard was what Luna and her thestrals were saying. I didn’t know who the pony I would be meeting was like, let alone that he was Commander Hurricane.

“But the way you spoke, the way you carried yourself,” Celestia continued, “that told me all that I needed to know about you. Underneath it all, under the armor and blood, there’s a kind pony in there. A pony that really cares. I know life has been hard for you—I’ve heard enough from the souls of those that knew you—but the fact that you’ve continued despite everything, that you still try when it would be so much easier to give up… I admire you, Hurricane. I really do. And I want to try to help you because it hurts me to see somepony that I admire suffer like you are. To see a friend suffer like you are.”

The feathers of her wing curled more around Hurricane’s shoulder. “Typhoon isn’t gone, Hurricane. This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”

Hurricane, who up until this point had been quiet, sniffled once and nodded. “Thank you, Celestia,” he said. “Thank you. It’s just… I’ve lost so much of my family already. I don’t think I could take it happening again… especially not my daughter.” He shook his head. “Gods, I’ll never see my son again…”

“I’m sorry,” Celestia whispered.

The dark pegasus recovered himself in a few seconds. “Don’t be,” he finally said, gingerly stepping out from under Celestia’s wing. “It’s not your fault. There’s nothing you can do, and nothing you could’ve done, to make it better.” He looked up at her, and Celestia thought she saw pleading in his eyes. “But there are ponies you can help. Ponies that need you now. Tomorrow, you should go to them. Make things better. Then we can finally start removing the Choke and make things right.”

Celestia nodded. “I will. It’s only right.” Then she smiled at him. “Oh, and Commander?”

Hurricane raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“You’re going to come with me,” Celestia said. “I could use somepony with strong character at my side.”

Hurricane nodded. “We’ll leave in the morning.”

Chapter 11: Ponies of Glass

The roads to the north of Everfree were not often travelled. Not by hoof, not by cart, and most certainly not by carriage. At their best, the roads—if one could call them roads with a straight face—were paths traced out of grass too trampled to grow straight. At their worst, they were little more than meandering paths through the forest where a few trees had been felled for the benefit of passing wagons. The settlements of Equestria were built on a line stretching from the Horseshoe Bay in the east to the Mountain of Dawn in the west; a few small homesteads had branched off from that so-called road, but all of Equestria’s meaningful settlements followed the line toward Everfree. What little paved road there was leading out of Everfree City to the north lasted no more than fifteen miles before it simply faded away.

A white-coated pegasus with a brown mane and a smiling yellow face stamped on his flanks whistled to himself as he walked down the path. Sure, it would’ve been easier to fly to Everfree to get the textiles his mom needed, but it was summer, and he wasn’t in any hurry. It felt good to crunch the stiff summer prairie grass underhoof, and flying would have carried him above the smells of the flowers and trees.

His hooves took him over a series of rising and falling hillocks, with the grass thinning out into more and more of a dirt path as he passed farmhouse after farmhouse. His eyes wandered over the simple thatch-roofed cottages with the smoke of the midday meals wafting out of their chimneys. The homesteads grew larger and wider the closer he got to Everfree, and the pegasus farmhoof felt a little pang of jealousy inside of himself as he watched colts and fillies play in the field outside of their farms. He missed the days of playing with his older sister, when life was simpler.

Cresting one last hilltop, the pegasus let his eyes fall on Everfree, and he took a moment to catch his breath in the splendor of that stone city. No matter how many times he’d seen it before, he’d never get over the sight. The proud castle surrounded by its moat and nestled amongst towering spirals of buildings and temples, the seemingly innumerous rows of houses spreading out in every direction, the river flowing just outside the city, taking dozens of cogs and galleys along with it… It was so much more exciting than his boring cottage on the farm.

The crunching of dirt and gravel under heavy wagon wheels caught the pegasus’ attention, and he lazily turned his head towards the cart he was expecting to crest behind him. Almost immediately, however, his eyes widened in surprise, his jaw dropped, and his wings hung limply by his sides.

No fewer than ten crystalline carriages were slowly making their way up the hill behind him. Their enormous wheels were made out of iron and onyx and were as tall as he was. Amethyst walls framed a cabin with inset sapphire window frames and diamond glass. Gold leaf and silver lining covered the harnesses of the four large, crystalline stallions pulling each carriage, who in turn wore strikingly cyan armor decorated with rubies. Their spiked horseshoes provided each team of ponies traction as they hauled their load up the hill without breaking a sweat—or at least, none that the farmer could see against the sheen of their skin.

The carriages passed without delay, the quartet of crystal ponies pulling each ignoring the pegasus’ presence other than to shift their course slightly so as not to trample the awestruck farmer underhoof. One by one they passed, until the last of the carriages dropped its anchor and began the slow descent down the hill towards Everfree.

It took the young stallion several more seconds to shut his gaping jaw, shake his head, and excitedly flutter after the exotic carriages, which were swiftly becoming little more than glistening blocks of light along a pale dirt road.

Commander Hurricane frowned at his reflection in the polished onyx of his galea. The ever-so-slightly uneven finish of the helmet warped and distorted his likeness in a hundred little ways, leading to a rather ghastly image when he opened his mouth to ensure his teeth were clean and that he didn’t have any mementos of the morning meal stuck to his muzzle. Grunting, the pegasus lifted the helmet over his head and settled it into place on his skull, which made his ears twitch once or twice as they slid through the holes in the top.

“Big day, hmm?” Twister asked from his side. The brown mare held a pair of wingblades in her hooves and nodded to her brother, who extended his bare left wing for her.

“It’ll be the first time Queen Jade has visited Everfree in person since the city was founded,” Hurricane answered. He rolled his shoulder as the familiar weight of the wingblade settled onto the bony crest of his wing, and held the appendage up to his face to tighten down the straps with his teeth. Twister meanwhile moved to her brother’s opposite side and helped secure the other wingblade.

“Then I can see why Platinum wants you in full armor for this meeting,” Twister said around the leather strap between her teeth. With one last tug, she pulled the strap tight and slid it between Hurricane’s secondary feathers so it wouldn’t bother him. “First impressions and all that.”

Hurricane absently hummed and flexed his wings once Twister took a few steps back. The razor-sharp scales slid over each other with a hiss of oil and nothing more, just as the pegasus commander expected. He’d spent a good hour or two the night before getting ready for today, and that meant all his armor had to be polished to a sheen and the segments greased to silence.

He folded his now-bladed wings against his armored body and hefted an older set of iron and gold armor off of a nearby stand. The armor was sized for a mare, and Twister sighed and held her wings straight up so Hurricane could slide the armor onto her back. “You know I hate armor,” she said, frowning as she wriggled her shoulders to get her wings to slide comfortably through the holes in the back.

“Tradition,” Hurricane merely answered, helping his sister tighten the leather straps under her belly and across her chest.

“Yeah, well tradition sucks,” Twister said, continuing to frown while her brother fastened bracers to each of her four legs. “Seriously, this armor chafes my coat, and I get sweaty in uncomfortable places. Plus Echo won’t even let me into bed with him until I’ve bathed after I’ve worn it. It makes me smell worse than him, and he’s the one working at a smithy all day.”

“Then pass a resolution that you don’t have to wear it,” Hurricane said. “It shouldn’t be that hard.”

“It is that hard,” Twister muttered. Snatching her crimson cloak in her teeth, she fastened the gold buttons together around her neck and draped it across her left shoulder. “The older senators won’t hear anything of it. Tradition this and tradition that.” She shook her head. “Tradition that died with the empire, but the graywings won’t get that.”

Hurricane chuckled lightly as he passed Twister her ceremonial sword before grabbing his own. “You’re the one that wanted to go into politics, Twist. Not me.” Two metallic snaps secured the sheath to his armor, and he made sure the hilt latch was snug against the cross guard of Procellarum. “Dealing with Platinum and Puddinghead is hard enough as is.”

“Oh?” Twister asked, raising an eyebrow over one of her golden eyes. “Wanna switch?”

“No, thank you,” Hurricane said, quickly shooting that idea down. “Parliament would be even worse.”

“It is,” his sister answered, shaking her head.

Just then, there was a knock on Hurricane’s door and Celestia poked her head inside. Her mane was bound with the gold ribbons and circlet she wore at the parade, and she likewise wore the same silk and gold dress. Gentle golden eyeshadow shimmered briefly in the torchlight as she blinked. “Are you two ready? The delegation is going to be here in a few minutes.”

Hurricane cast a sideways glance at Twister, who was adjusting that last straps on her armor, and nodded. “We’ll be down shortly. Are Platinum and Puddinghead ready?”

Celestia gave a short nod. “Puddinghead’s finishing up the last touches to his apparel, and as far as I can tell, the Queen has been ready since dawn.” She gave her bound mane an annoyed flick with her hoof. “The servants likewise made Luna and I presentable for the delegation, although I wish that they wouldn’t have bothered.”

Hurricane offered Celestia an encouraging smile. “You look wonderful. Regal and powerful. It’s a nice touch.”

The alicorn smiled warmly and looked back over her shoulder at a faint voice from somewhere down the hallway. “Thank you, Hurricane,” she responded with a faint smile and dip of her head. “We shouldn’t keep Platinum waiting much longer. I’ll see you in the throne room.”

With that, she disappeared down the hall, leaving Hurricane and Twister alone in Hurricane’s room. Turning to Twister, Hurricane wrapped his hooves around his younger sister and kissed her cheeks before pulling her into an embrace. They stood like that for a second, forelegs locked around each other’s shoulders as they shared a quiet moment, before they separated. With a sigh, Twister shook her mane out of her eyes and tilted her head up to Hurricane’s. “Ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Hurricane said, and holding out his wing, he ushered his sister out the door and down the hall.

In the heart of the city, the Legion was hard at work. Several centuries had been deployed between downtown and the slums, and apart from time to rest and eat, their presence had remained, unchanging since they arrived two days prior. But the soldiers weren’t at the Choke to bolster its defenses; instead, they were doing the opposite, tearing apart the numerous checkpoints and emptying old armories along the main roads.

A brown pegasus clad in heavy skysteel armor leaned back against a nearby building. The gold trim on his armor and striped helmet plume identified him as a centurion, and he rested a heavy warhammer across his legs while he watched his century work. A cadre of milites were picking away at a nearby guard station with crowbars and saws, stripping off the wooden panels and dumping them in a pile in the slums. There, another group of soldiers distributed the scrap to the ponies that called the slums home, making sure that no one pony took more than their fair share back with them.

Reaching into the pouch bolted onto his armor, the pegasus pulled out a ragged cloth and absentmindedly ran it over the dense nimbus skysteel of his warhammer. So much to do on such short notice. He’d only gotten the order after lunch two days ago to deploy his century to the Choke to dismantle it, and apparently Parliament had only passed the proposition that morning. Stripping apart several months of military fortifications and structures was no easy task, especially when he was asked to have it done in two days. It was an order to do the impossible.

The centurion smirked to himself as he looked up and down the empty road that had once separated city from slum, fortunate from destitute. Apart from a few more resilient structures like the guard stations, almost everything was already gone. Hard work, some late nights and early mornings, and a lot of shouting had disassembled the perimeter in two days. It made the soldier proud, and as the milites pried the last of the guard station’s foundations from the ground, the centurion brushed a few loose gray and beige hairs back under his helmet and climbed to his hooves.

“You sorry sods done already?” the centurion barked as he strode over, shuffling his feathers back in order against his armor. The band of milites all jumped and quickly spun to attention, snapping their wings open in the traditional Cirran salute. Their hurried response however led to one of the privates smacking another in the face with his wing, leaving the struck pegasus to cough and sputter on his comrade’s feathers.

“Sir, yes sir!” the milites answered once they’d finally pulled themselves together.

The centurion shook his head. “At ease.” The four ponies immediately relaxed their wings and formed into a straight line across from their centurion. The brown pegasus gave them each a quick glance with his green eyes before tilting his head to the side. “Drop that wood off in the pile, then how about you lot have the rest of the day off. Get drunk and love your wives all night long. Gods know that you all could use it.”

“Sir,” the four milites answered, small smiles on their faces. The centurion dismissed them off with a wing and watched as they grabbed the last of the wood between their teeth or hauled it across their wings towards the pile. He turned away, intending to return to his spot in the shade and polish his hammer some more, when the fluttering of wings stopped him.

“Centurion Dusk Watch?” the pony, a mare, asked from over his shoulder.

“Private,” Dusk Watch answered, turning to face his subordinate. “Are they here already?”

The private nodded, her curly yellow mane dancing in front of her eyes. “They just entered the limits.”

Dusk Watch sighed, cracked his neck, then stomped out into the open. “Form up!” he bellowed, his order echoing out over the buildings. Everywhere he looked, the ponies of his century immediately stopped what they were doing and turned to face the street, wings extended in salute. Dusk Watch himself hung his warhammer on the hooks bolted into his armor and waited with the private at his side.

It took a minute, but soon enough, they arrived. Ten crystal carriages, each one pulled by a quartet of Union soldiers. Dusk Watch paid the crystal ponies little attention as they passed, his eyes instead focusing on the windows of the carriages. Eventually they settled on the fourth carriage as it passed, where he saw a shimmer of a green horn against the diamond glass. His eyes followed it until it disappeared further down the block amidst the other carriages in the caravan, and only when they were all gone did he move. He didn’t move far, though, before he heard the private’s voice again.

“Those were… crystal ponies?”

“Aye,” Dusk Watch said, giving a single nod. “A whole bunch of them. I guess Jade doesn’t trust us if she brought her best with her.”

“Jade? She’s here?” the private asked, somewhat incredulous. “Wow.”

“Don’t be so thrilled,” the centurion said, already beginning to walk away. The private blinked once and fluttered her wings to keep after him. “Foreign dignitaries are never fun.”

“What do you mean?”

Dusk Watch sighed and touched the pommel of his warhammer with a hoof. “Kiss sleep goodbye, because you’re not gonna see her again for a long time.”

Queen Platinum sat atop the throne of Equestria. While in truth there were three thrones, hers was the largest, the back rising as high and half again as she was tall and the armrests cast from silver, trimmed in gold, and studded with amethysts. Hurricane’s throne on her right was a simple, blockish thing made of iron and onyx, while Platinum had managed to tone down the originally garish design Puddinghead had wanted for his into a nicer varnished oak with delicately carved details.

Some ponies would think that it made Platinum unfairly seem more important than the other two triumvirs, but Platinum herself would disagree. Apart from being the only one of the three with royal blood, Hurricane and Puddinghead had both supported her in being the face of Equestria, and she was the one that presided over the day court. Hurricane was usually too busy managing the Legion to ever use his throne, and Puddinghead often spent his time doing… whatever it was that the chancellor usually did. So to her, it only made sense that the leader that spent the most time interacting with the public of Equestria should have the best possible furnishings to her throne.

However, it didn’t matter how splendid her throne was or how little the other two thrones were used; at the moment, she was the only one of the triumvir present in the throne room that was slowly filling with ponies from Parliament and other nobles who’d managed to secure a spot for the meeting with the Union’s delegation. Neither Hurricane nor Puddinghead were anywhere to be found, and Celestia had left a few minutes earlier to go look for them. That left Platinum to fidget on her throne and attempt to not chew her hooves off, with Luna standing over Puddinghead’s throne, obviously bored.

“Where are they?” Platinum muttered to herself. One of the legionaries had informed her a few minutes ago that the Union delegation had crossed the Choke and was en route to the castle, and she had been slowly working herself into a panic ever since. “Where are they, where are they, where are they?!”

“They’ll be here, Your Highness. You’re working yourself up over nothing,” Luna answered, turning a teal eye in the white unicorn’s direction. “They’ll be here on time. Celestia’s never late, but she’s never early, either.”

Platinum frowned. “She sounds just like Star Swirl.” She wiped a hoof across the base of her horn, careful not to get any of her makeup or powder on her lavish violet and silver dress. “I won’t stand the embarrassment of being the only triumvir to receive the delegation. Today is a very, very important day in Equestrian history, and I won’t let it be ruined by tardiness!”

Luna rolled her eyes and toyed with the silver-corded braids in her mane, trying to get her hair to rest more comfortably over her shoulder. Platinum caught the motion out of the corner of her eye, and she knitted her eyebrows together in response. “Please don’t mess with your mane, Luna. Sun and Stars know that it took long enough to get it together as is.”

“You’re telling me,” Luna grumbled, forcing herself to set her hooves back down on the marble dais. “I detest formal events.”

Platinum looked appalled, but the expression vanished so quickly under a neutral façade that Luna was honestly impressed and perhaps a little frightened. “If you’re going to pretend to be a goddess, then you have to act the part. Ponies expect to see you in beautiful and regal dress.”

Luna frowned and looked away. “I would have preferred to wear armor like Hurricane. It’d be better than this… thing,” she grumbled, poking at the high-backed and flared collar protecting her neck. At a sharp glare from Platinum, she groaned and buried her face into her forelimbs. “I don’t understand modern fashion.”

“You’re going to ruin your makeup,” Platinum reprimanded her, making Luna’s wings open in exasperation. Suddenly, her eyes darted forward to the front of the throne room, and she let out a sigh of relief. “Thank the heavens, they’re finally here!”

All eyes turned towards the front of the throne room, where Commander Hurricane and Chancellor Puddinghead led Celestia and Twister into the enormous vaulted room. Nobles and politicians bowed to the two triumvirs and Celestia as they passed, although they sharply raised back up to a standing posture before Twister could walk by. The brown mare locked eyes with Mayor Greenleaf for a brief second and flashed a haughty smile before the unicorn could turn away and ignore her. Seconds later, the pegasus politician split off from the rest of the VIPs and found a spot waiting for her amongst several senators towards the sides of the room.

Hurricane took his seat with a casual nod to Platinum, while Puddinghead all but flopped onto his throne. Celestia gave the Queen of Equestria a small smile before that turned into a smirk at her fidgeting sister. “I apologize for taking so long, but it doesn’t look like we’ve missed much of anything.”

“No, no, nothing at all,” Platinum said, rubbing a hoof against her brow. “I’m only going to need several glasses of wine to calm my nerves down when this is all over. Perhaps even cognac if things really get out of hoof. But that’s for then, and now’s for now.” Sitting upright and crossing her forelimbs over her lap, Platinum plucked an errant feather from Hurricane’s wing with her magic, making the armored stallion wince. “Honestly, Commander, I didn’t think it was molting season yet.”

Hurricane grumbled and sat as comfortably as his armor would allow him. Puddinghead, meanwhile, was rocking back and forth in his chair, barely holding in his excitement. “Oh boy oh boy, this is going to be so much fun!”

Once again, Platinum called upon her magic, this time to yank Puddinghead’s hat down over his face and make him stop wiggling. “For the love of all that is good, Chancellor, do not open your mouth and let me do all the talking. This is an important meeting, and Equestria needs to seem strong and united, especially with all we’ve been through as of late. I’m sure Hurricane would agree.” Without even waiting for Puddinghead’s nod, Platinum turned towards Celestia. “Remember to stand tall and erect. We want the Union to know that the gods are on our side, and do not speak to their delegation unless they ask you a direct question.”

Wordlessly, Celestia nodded and stood protectively behind Hurricane’s throne while Luna stood behind Puddinghead’s.

The five ponies waited on the dais for several minutes, some more patiently than others, until Star Swirl the Bearded entered the throne room. Clover the Clever and Diadem stood on opposite sides of the Equestrian Archmage, and curtsied in time with Star Swirl’s arthritic bow to the triumvirate. The three unicorns rose after a few seconds, and Clover and Diadem snuck off to the sidelines while Star Swirl levitated his hat off of his head and held it against his chest. “Your Highnesses and my Ladies, I present to you Queen Jade of the Crystal Union, Defender of the Peace and Keystone of Harmony, and her entourage.”

With one last bow, Star Swirl joined Clover and Diadem off to the side as several figures entered the throne room behind him. A nearly inaudible collective gasp filled the room as the ponies entered, their crystalline skin scattering the light into an incredible kaleidoscope of infinite colors. While nearly two dozen crystal ponies entered the room in an orderly line, the eyes of everypony present were drawn to the tall green mare leading the procession.

Queen Jade stood proudly above her fellow crystal ponies with her wings outstretched and her chin held high. Her namesake coat glistened like polished glass in the high noon light, and her mane was so intricately woven in and around her horn and ears that it would have been indistinguishable from a crown, were it not for the actual crown perched atop her brow. Fine golden chains hung from her wings to the silk dress that flowed around her slender legs, and several pendants of rubies and sapphires dangled from her lengthy and well-defined horn. Long eyelashes framed crystal-clear sky blue eyes, which made unwavering eye contact with Queen Platinum as the crystal ponies approached the thrones.

Only one other pony had the honor to walk at Jade’s side. While nowhere near the mare’s equal in stature, an amber earth pony confidently trotted along to keep up with her lengthy gait. His brown mane hung above green eyes and below a feathered hat, and slick brown vestments reminiscent of the stallion’s days as a representative covered his body. A small platinum band encircled his right fetlock—an identical copy to the one Jade wore around hers.

“Smart Cookie!” Puddinghead exclaimed, jumping out of his throne before either Platinum or Luna had a chance to react. The brown earth pony more or less tripped down the stairs as he scrambled towards his old friend, and Smart Cookie dashed forward to catch the Chancellor before he could plant his face on the marble floor in front of a hundred nobles and dignitaries. The crystal ponies around Jade tensed up, but Jade wore a smile on her face that was born out of bemusement and surprise while the two earth ponies embraced.

“Ugh… even after all these years I still have to stop you from making a fool of yourself, don’t I, Puddinghead?” Smart Cookie grunted.

“Ohmygosh Smart Cookie, it’s been sooooooooooooo long since I last saw you!” The Chancellor began to bounce up and down on his hooves, and Queen Platinum died a little on the inside. “How have you been?! What have you been up to?! Is it cold that far north?! Are the buildings literally made out of gems?! Is Jade really that good in—?!”

Platinum interrupted with a rather loud cough into her hoof. “Thank you, Chancellor, for making the delegation feel welcome. Now, if you would kindly return to your throne…”

Puddinghead rolled his eyes and climbed up the steps towards his throne. “We’ll talk later, mmkay BFF?”

Smart Cookie nodded and gave the usual uncomfortable smile that invariably made its way onto his face when dealing with Puddinghead. “Of course, Chancellor.”

When the Chancellor was back in his proper place, Platinum took a deep breath and shook her bangs out of her face. “Well! On behalf of Equestria and everypony present in this room, I do apologize for the Chancellor’s erratic behavior. I assure you, it won’t happen again.”

Jade gave a causal curtsy to Platinum, and her train of servants and soldiers likewise bowed and curtsied. “Please, that won’t be necessary,” Jade assured her. “I met the Chancellor five years ago at the battle of Onyx Ridge, as I’m sure you recall. He actually saved my life in the fighting.”

Puddinghead blinked. “Oh yeah, I did do that, didn’t I?” He looked into the foreground and smiled. “And you guys think I’m useless!”

Both Hurricane and Platinum gave Puddinghead confused looks before Platinum resumed speaking. “Yes, yes, I remember Onyx Ridge well. I suppose our fates intersected at that particular engagement, even if our paths themselves did not cross. Still, it is my honor—our honor,” and here she gestured to the four ponies around her, “to welcome you to Equestria, home of the ever-free. May our goddesses give you their blessings.”

Celestia and Luna nodded from behind the thrones, and Jade’s eyes wandered over each of them, as if picking each alicorn apart. Finally, she bowed her head low, but she did not prostrate herself like Platinum had believed she would. “Mare of Sun and Mare of Moon,” Jade said, respectfully keeping her eyes closed. “It is an honor to be in your presence. News travels fast, even to a land as far away as mine. Equestria must truly be blessed to have you in their midst.”

“This land needed us,” Celestia answered, raising her chin and speaking with authority laced with kindness. “They had suffered through so much for so long, and my sister and I simply could not stand by the wayside and let their beautiful nation crumble. So we intervened, and Equestria is strong once more.”

Jade raised her head from the floor and respectfully tipped her horn, although her ears flattened by just the tiniest amount when she heard the word ‘suffered’. “Then they are even more fortunate for your timely arrival. Your presence will do them much good in the years to come.” She paused and shook her head slightly, a sorrowful smile on her face. “I apologize if my words sound irreverent. My beliefs lie with the Artist, not with the avatars of the sun and stars. I pray that you will hold no ill-will against me or my kind for admitting this.”

Celestia smiled comfortingly at the mortal alicorn. “I’ve met ponies of many beliefs across the millennia. Believe me when I say that I’ve known several who believe in the Artist as you do; some were close friends of ours.”

Once more, Jade bowed, although this time she swept one of her glittering wings across her chest as she did so. “Your words mean much to me, Mare of Sun. I look forward to speaking with you more, should you be inclined.” The white alicorn gave a small nod, and Jade turned her attention back towards Platinum. “For now, though, my ponies are tired from the journey, and rest would be greatly appreciated.”

Platinum nodded. “I shall have servants escort you to your quarters. In the meantime—”

Whatever Platinum had to say was lost as the throne room doors slammed open in a brilliant display of pale gold. Several nearby ponies backed away in surprise and fear as an elderly unicorn stormed his way to the front of the throne room. Outside, a pair of semi-conscious legionaries groaned where they lay on the ground.

“Leave for ten minutes to relieve aging bowels and everypony forgets about you,” the unicorn muttered to himself. Slimming black robes rippled around his fetlocks, the red satin trim faintly glowing in the light scattered off of the crystal ponies. Chapped and withered lips twisted into a harsh frown as crystal servants and soldiers alike shuffled out of his way in silent fear, apparently too slow for his liking—he bluntly picked them up with his magic and shuffled them aside as one might move pieces on a chessboard. His uneven yet swift gait was accompanied by the sharp clack of his walking stick—which appeared to have formerly been the spine of some unusually large creature—against the marble floor, and his eyes wandered over the extravagant architecture and décor in the room with obvious disdain. “I’m rather impressed…” he drew in a wheezing breath. “…that a nation splitting at the seams could put together such a charade. How did a fledgling state with a failing economy manage to pay for it? Or were the slums I saw on the way in where you keep your slave labor?”

Hurricane leaned forward in his iron throne, practically bristling. “Who are you, old man, and what did you do to the legionaries guarding the doors?”

Despite the intensity of Hurricane’s glare, the old pony seemed unfazed. He spent more than a few seconds of laborious motionlessness catching his breath, marked only by the flaring of his nostrils. Then he stood up, ran a hoof along the few wayward creases on his trim, almost military jacket, and finally raised his head. “Your soldiers are quite well, I assure you; ripping out their souls would never be worth the mana.” Several of the ponies present recoiled at the incredibly casual observation. Jade alone moved closer to the gaunt and withered stallion.

“Mind yourself—”

“Empress, with respect, I know the boundaries of polite discourse far better than you likely ever will. We didn’t come here to start a war, though I admit the thought is amusing. Now…” Striding away from the towering alicorn, noticeably absent the limp he had been affecting on his rushed entrance, the stallion approached the triumvirate. “You must be the legendary Commander Hurricane. It’s a unique honor to finally meet the ruler of the pegasi, though having met your son, I admit I half expected another giant. Was his mother a bear?”

In a display of impressive curmudgeonliness reflecting the growing gray in his mane, Hurricane’s glare grew deeper. “Who are you?”

“Why, I’m glad you asked, Commander.” The unicorn swept a hoof across his chest and offered the very slightest of bows to the enthroned rulers of the new nation. “I am—”

“Wintershimmer the Ruthless.” The words were spoken with a peculiar spite, and a level of sheer hatred that nopony had ever heard before from the speaker’s mouth. Stepping out of the crowd of servants and retainers amidst the throne room was none other than Star Swirl himself, his golden eyes locked on the clean-shaven wizard standing at the front of the room. The bells on his robes jingled with each step, and he bared his teeth through the scowl on his face. “And here I was hoping that this would be a civil meeting between our two nations.”

“I don’t see any call for that, Star Swirl,” Wintershimmer answered with barely concealed rage in his own calm tones. “The last time we met, we parted peacefully. That is why my appellation is ‘the Complacent’, as you might recall.” Then, obviously lying with the expression, the clean-shaven wizard donned a forced smile. “Though I have to admit, ‘the Ruthless’ does have a nice ring to it. I assume you’re still referred to by your substandard grooming habits?”

Star Swirl snarled behind his namesake beard. “I was hoping the barbarians would have split your horn.”

“Star Swirl!” Platinum practically hissed. A few others gasped at the poisoned remark the normally collected old stallion let loose from his lips.

“Oh, it’s quite alright,” Wintershimmer told the unicorn monarch, his parched lips and gaunt cheeks falling back to an utterly unamused expression. “They did try at first, Star Swirl. No point denying history. Or did you actually tear my pages from the Tourmaline Grimoire? Did you need more room for your barely-literate scrawling about an amniomorphic spell?”

“It’s omniomorphic,” a younger and only slightly less spirited voice broke into the conversation. Emerging from the already crowded mass amidst the three thrones, Clover the Clever’s hooves found their way down from the dais toward the far-older unicorn. “It means ‘all-forms,’ not some pottery spell. If you were half the wizard you claimed to be, surely you’d understand that much.”

Wintershimmer smiled. The room grew very, very quiet. Then he spoke. “Ah, Clover the Clever! My hero! I've been so excited to meet you!"

At the sudden, uncharacteristically warm greeting, the grumblings and the tension in the room gave way to surprise. Even Queen Jade and Smart Cookie cocked their heads and raised their eyebrows at just how genuine Wintershimmer had sounded.

Clover blinked and held one forehoof in midair, confused. “Excuse me?”

"The mare who fixed King Topaz' folly and brought the earth ponies back into the fold, stopped a brooding war, and founded a nation. Certainly, the cost was high, but you didn't hesitate. A mare after my own heart." In his continuation, he strode forward, leaning on the spine that served as his staff, until he was comfortably face-to-face with Clover.

“Clover has nothing to do with the void crystal you call your heart, Wintershimmer,” Star Swirl snarled.

Queen Jade looked apologetically towards the triumvirate of Equestria before hissing at her own archmage. “Wintershimmer...”

Without looking at his rival or his queen, Wintershimmer continued. “All derision aside, Clover, I have to respect you. You’ve more than earned your appellation for how fast you must have been thinking that day.”

The young archmage herself, clearly confused by the compliments of a stallion who had filled the ghost stories of her training, struggled for words. “Um… It’s not really fair to say I did all that. Commander Hurricane and Princess Platinum and Chancellor Puddinghead were the ones who really founded Equestria. I just—”

"Don't deny your due place in history, Clover. Had you not bravely spared the last Windigo—” Clover gasped. Hurricane rose from his seat. Star Swirl’s horn ignited. Wintershimmer didn’t stop. “—and condemned the Diamond Kingdoms and the Low Valleys to become an icy grave for thousands, there would be no reason to come here. No Equestria. I'm surprised Star Swirl hasn't tried to have you banished for knowingly condemning River Rock to eternal winter, given his misguided morals.”

“Archmage…” Jade growled from the depths of her throat.

“But I, for one, would like to thank you for making the hard conscious decision to pay that terrible price and work toward a better future for all ponies. I only hope history remembers your courage for what it is."

“Clover didn’t try to freeze the Compact Lands!” Chancellor Puddinghead shouted over the shocked mutterings filling the throne room. “Maybe a jerk like you doesn’t understand sympathy!”

“Sympathy?” Wintershimmer scoffed. “For primal spirits of ice and hatred? I’ve known a fair few earth ponies in my day, but you are by far the prime example of your species.” More than one of the gathered gasped at the sheer potency of Wintershimmer’s racism, yet his tirade proceeded unabated. “Every mage worth their salt knows that Windigoes are creatures literally incapable of expressing kindness or mercy. Thus, there are only two possibilities: either Clover made a calculated assessment to condemn the Diamond Kingdoms and the Low Valleys to eternal winter because she saw some sort of gain from that exchange, or she is an imbecile.” With a nod to the earth pony, he added, “I prefer to see the glass as half-full, though I admit it would be a rarity from somepony under Star Swirl’s mentorship—”

“That’s it!” A young mare forced her way out of the masses around the edges of the room and approached Star Swirl. “Do you think you can get away with just being a bully? Star Swirl is a great wizard! Maybe he stood up to you, or maybe you just have some sort of inferiority complex, but nopony wants to hear you taking stabs at him!”

Wintershimmer’s artificial expression fell away, and his gaunt cheeks went slack. Diadem met his gaze without fear.

At least, at first. The room was entirely silent, breaths bated on whether or not the rumored evil of the wizard would manifest.

Wintershimmer closed his mouth. His brow grew tight. His horn ignited. In that moment, the room moved. Star Swirl, Clover, and Celestia all gathered their magic. Hurricane drew Procellarum, and dozens of guards, both Cirran and Crystal, readied their arms.

In a steady telekinetic grip, Wintershimmer lifted a pair of round, gold-rimmed spectacles out of his coat and onto his muzzle. Once they were settled into place, his magic faded. The room breathed a sigh of relief.

“I see you are real. For a moment, I couldn’t believe my eyes. A filly your age standing up to me? Directly? You’re quite brave. What do your peers call you, little one?”

“I’m Diadem,” the young unicorn replied.

“I see. And do you know who I am, Diadem?”

“You’re Wintershimmer the Complacent,” Diadem told him. “You were Star Swirl’s friend; you shared a mentor. Then when she died, you killed a unicorn to take their horn, and then tried to graft it onto an earth pony, which drove him mad.” A few gasps and whispers could be heard around the room. “When you were caught, you invoked the Complacency of the Learned to run away from Star Swirl instead of fighting him. King Lapis banished you from the Diamond Kingdoms.”

Wintershimmer nodded. “And do you believe that story?”

Diadem nodded.

“It isn’t entirely accurate, but for the sake of argument, I shall pretend it isn’t a slanted history. You know who I am. You know I am the peer, if not the better, of your beloved ill-groomed mentor. Yet you approach me, and stand up to me, without fear? Without respect?” Then Wintershimmer smiled again, like a wolf over an injured rabbit.

Diadem puffed out her chest, sucked in a breath, blinked once, and held her gaze against the ancient wizard’s. “I’m strong, Wintershimmer. And my teachers are the best two wizards in the whole world. You might be evil, but you don’t scare me!”

“Diadem…” Clover’s words trailed off when Star Swirl placed a firm hoof on the mare’s shoulder.

Wintershimmer held his attention on the filly before him. “Evil is the monster under an adult’s bed, but I won’t lecture you on morality. You’re right, Diadem. You are powerful. Your horn is tightly coiled, and long for a filly your age. If my spectacles aren’t lying to me, you might well be able to stand hoof to hoof with Clover if you were to simply pour mana at one another. And while I disagree with your assessment of the quality of your mentorship, I won’t make myself a liar by claiming they lack experience or force of mana.” The wrinkled, gaunt unicorn leaned forward. “And all those truths are meaningless.”

Diadem shook her head. “No, they’re important! Star Swirl and Clover—”

“—are the blanket you hold up to conceal your inadequacies as an aspiring mage,” Wintershimmer completed. “The coiling of your horn and the strength of your magic don’t determine your quality as a wizard. That understanding is why I invoked Complacency when I faced Star Swirl fifty-five years ago. A real wizard is not defined by their body, or who they are. They are defined by their achievements. Their legacy. The magic they leave behind when they die.

“When we were your age, Diadem, both Star Swirl and I had already begun to write in the Tourmaline Grimoire. Ponies in the Diamond Guard cast spells bearing our names. We enchanted for the king and explored the mysteries of the world. We had ambition. And if you possessed even the slightest fragment of that singular drive, you would have told me what you had done, instead of hiding behind the supposed accomplishments of your tragically undriven mentors.”

Diadem’s eyes widened, and Wintershimmer’s magic pulled the spectacles from his muzzle.

“Then I will ask you once again: who are you to stand here and look me in the eye?”

“I…” Diadem’s voice floundered. “I…”

“You are nothing,” Wintershimmer concluded, his voice remaining calm and factual despite its brutal content. “Tragic, yet typical of Star Swirl. Instead of an apprentice who could ever achieve something of worth, he chose a foal with an ideal horn and assumed he could teach ambition.”

“You’re wrong!” Diadem shouted, though her words quivered, and her eyes wrinkled up. “I’ll… I’ll make all kinds of magic! I’m already researching void crystals!”

Wintershimmer shook his head, almost managing to look genuinely saddened. “A tool that has been fully understood in the Crystal Empire for millennia. You don’t even believe yourself when you make those claims, do you? Ponies don’t change, Diadem. I don’t even need to read your mind to see that you’re too terrified of failure to have dreams of success. Star Swirl and Clover can tell you they believe in you all they want, but that won’t get rid of the nagging voice in the back of your mind reminding you of all your failures. Do you understand, Diadem? It’s no different than any more conventional illusion. You can lie to yourself all you want, but you can never make yourself believe.”

Diadem scrunched up her face, trying to hide her tears, but the motion only wrung them out of her eyes. Two drops, then three, and then a trickle. A sniffle. “But… my cutie mark…”

“It marks your failure more than anything I could ever say.” Wintershimmer smiled as he said it. “The star of magic has seven points.”

Diadem turn and ran.

The room was dead quiet at first; a stunned silence filled the stone halls of the castle as the realization that an old stallion had torn apart the dreams of a filly five times his junior. It ended with a furious shout. “Wintershimmer!” The voice hailed from inches over the old wizard’s shoulder, and he turned to find Queen Jade quite literally breathing down his neck. “That is quite far enough! What did that filly ever do for you?”

“Propagate a philosophy that is destroying the study of magic,” Wintershimmer answered in a disinterested tone. “I never lied to her, Jade. I didn’t hurt her. My magic never touched her.”

“You’ve hurt that filly more than you could possibly understand,” the glimmering alicorn countered. “Say your peace to the Ladies of the Sun and Moon so we can save some shred of face, and we’ll be done here.”

Wintershimmer rolled his eyes. “I am an atheist, Empress. I do not believe in ‘the Artist.’ I do not believe in supernatural beings controlling the sun and stars. As your magical advisor, I assure you those aren’t ponies, and they most certainly aren’t gods. If I had to guess, Star Swirl and his cronies summoned a few spirits and had them take those forms in the hope that we would submit ourselves to their rule out of some sense of religious obligation.”

Behind Puddinghead’s seat, Luna bared her teeth and started opening her wings to their full length. Only a gentle touch from her sister’s wingtip and a shake of her springtime mane stopped the younger alicorn from demonstrating to Wintershimmer just how much of a goddess she was.

Jade groaned. “You have the sincerest apologies of the Crystal Empire,” she said to the leaders, forcefully brushing aside the elder stallion. From the look on Wintershimmer’s face, it was immediately apparent that Jade was the only pony who could do so without some kind of repercussion from the unicorn. “I did not bring him lightly, but I have no other magical advisor of his caliber.”

“Oh, stop apologizing.” When the Queen of the Crystal Empire looked up, Wintershimmer had already fixed his robes and made his way across the room to another set of doors, where two more Cirran legionaries were slumped over slumbering on the floor. “You’re going to ruin our image.” With those staggering words, the old wizard leaned on the spine that was his staff and strode out of the chamber.

The corner of Platinum’s muzzle twitched as she watched him go, and it took all her effort to repress a snarl. She fixed Jade with a stern, seething glare, and nodded curtly towards the doors Wintershimmer made his abrupt exit through. “You may leave,” she deadpanned, trying her hardest to keep her wavering voice at an appropriate volume. “And might I suggest leaving your arch magus behind, next time. He has a terrible reputation amongst the unicorn populace, and with today’s display, the rest of the nation as well. You would do well to find somepony else.”

“And inform him that he will not use force against the Legion again,” Hurricane cut in before Jade could respond. “I don’t care what self-justified reasons he thinks he has; any more trouble on his part and I’ll have to detain him. Understood?”

Jade met Hurricane’s level stare and gave the tiniest tilt of her muzzle down in response. “I can only limit him, Commander, but I will see to it that he controls his magic.”

“Good,” Hurricane answered, leaning back in his throne. “Four legions will be ready to intervene if he does not.”

Jade scoffed. “You give him too much credit. As formidable as he is, I don’t think it will take thousands of soldiers to restrain him. Besides, for all your military pomp on our way into Everfree, I estimated no more than a legion’s worth of soldiers spread throughout the city limits.” There was a glint in her eye. “I was once a military commander too, Hurricane. I know how Cirrans work.”

Hurricane narrowed his magenta eyes at her. “I never said anything about the legions in Everfree.”

Puddinghead suddenly clapped his hooves together before things could get any more out of hoof than they already were. “Well, I think it’s time that we let our shiny friends get some rest, don’tcha think?” he asked. Hopping to his hooves, he bowed so low his hat almost fell off of his head. “Welcome to Equestria! I hope you all have a wonderful stay!”

The stone halls of the castle were busy, yet they were empty. They were noisy, yet quiet. The display in the throne room earlier in the day had settled a foreboding mood over the entirety of the castle. Servants went to and fro as quickly and as quietly as they could, and the legionaries were more vigilant than ever, all because of the temper of one archmage from the far north.

The effect that temper had had on one filly in particular echoed down the stone halls near Star Swirl’s study. Frustrated howls punctuated by small sniffles accompanied flashing lights of arcane energy, silhouetting a short unicorn on the wall across from the open door. There was a flash, a crack, and a sound like the tinkling of falling glass across a stone floor. Another frustrated howl.

Down the hall, Star Swirl and Clover exchanged concerned looks. They refrained from approaching the study—for the moment. Some part of the both of them knew that it’d be best for Diadem to boil off as much of her frustration as possible.

Clover frowned as the study went silent. “You know… I know what you told me about him. I shouldn’t be surprised,” she said, her gaze drifting to the floor. “But she’s still just a filly…”

Star Swirl’s nostrils flared and his brow furrowed. “Wintershimmer has no compassion, my dear Clover. He traded it in for ambition long ago, and see how far it’s gotten him.”

“Yeah, but…” the pistachio green mare sighed and shook her head. “Is it really true what he says? That he can rip out a pony’s soul?”

“Were it only a story,” Star Swirl muttered, shaking his head. “Wintershimmer does not duel like you or I know how to. He does not fight. He ends. I’ve never seen the spell in action myself, but I do not doubt that he’s mastered it. Wintershimmer is not one to boast about lies.”

“So what about the story with the unicorn horn?” Clover asked. “Did he really murder a unicorn in cold blood?”

The elderly archmage was silent for several seconds before answering. “No,” he said. “No, he didn’t. Our old mentor was dying. She was elderly and pneumonia was taking hold. He never acted against her while she ailed, but he followed her like a wolf. Day in and day out he would check in on her under the guise of being a concerned apprentice. But when she finally did die…

“It was a closed casket funeral. Nopony really understood why at the time; pneumonia does not mangle the flesh. It wasn’t until a week later that I stumbled upon Wintershimmer’s experiment, a poor captive earth pony with my mentor’s horn magically fused to his skull, that I understood why.”

Star Swirl turned to Clover and looked her in the eye. “That stallion is dangerous, Clover. He does not lie, but he never tells the whole truth either. He only tells his truth. That in itself can be more dangerous than any falsehood.”

Sniffling down the hall broke off any further conversation. The two archmages exchanged looks before Clover advanced towards the study, followed at a distance by Star Swirl. The green mare stopped by the doorframe, drew a collected breath, and rapped quietly on the jamb. “Diadem? Are you alright?”

The silence told her far more than the filly’s eventual answer. “…Fine.”

Pursing her lips, Clover entered the study, Star Swirl not far behind her. Diadem stood with her forelegs on a desk and a collection of gems of various kinds around her, many of which were split open or shattered. The hiss of ambient mana leaking back into the air from the shards filled the silence between Diadem’s gradually slowing panting breaths.

“Diadem…” Clover began.

“It’s not fair!” Diadem exclaimed, cutting Clover off before she had the chance to continue. “Why does he think he can just walk all over everypony?! Why does he think he’s so much better than everypony else?!”

In the doorway, Star Swirl sighed and shook his head, the bells along his cap jingling lightly. “Ambition and jealousy,” he answered. His magic levitated over a chair, and he sat down in it with aching and popping arthritic joints. “Let me tell you a story from when I was your age,” he said, and he drew out his clay pipe from between his robes with another flourish of magic. “When Wintershimmer and I were both apprentices to Archmage Comet.”

Diadem’s ears perked up a little, and she turned away from the desk to face Star Swirl. “Mrs. Comet? Your old mentor? I remember talking to her when you taught me séance.” Her face brightened just the tiniest amount. “She was really nice, Swirly!”

Star Swirl rolled his eyes and lit his pipe with a spark of mana. “Yes, she was nice, but she was a senile old woman when I knew her—in an endearing sort of way.”

Clover cocked her head. “I don’t think you’ve ever explained why Comet took on two apprentices.”

Star Swirl ran a hoof through his beard. “She never intended to, honestly. She was old even when I first met her; I can assure you that teaching two mischievous colts or fillies about the intricacies of high-level casting was the last thing she wanted to do. However, after the testing, I think she saw an opportunity to do something unique; either that, or she felt she was compelled to, although knowing Comet, that seems highly unlikely.”

Seeing his current and former apprentices sitting around and paying close attention to him, Star Swirl chuckled and drew from his pipe, blowing a smoke cloud which quickly took on the semblance of a large city. “We were both fourteen at the time…

The balustrades of Castle Burning Hearth’s many balconies were carved in such a way that the afternoon sun turned the pink granite floor into a mural with their shadows. Outlines of powerful nobles and gentle mares seemed to dance to some quiet, forgotten song in the shadows they cast.

A much younger and notably baby-faced Star Swirl leaned on one such balustrade halfway up the cliff face that the castle was built into. Before him, the whole of River Rock sprawled across its valley, sweeping left and right across the river that gave the city its name. The sun dazzled over the crystal waters and reflected off of the copper gutters and diamond windows of the houses on the west bank, where all the nobles lived secluded from the peasants closer to the castle.

“Starry!” A colt’s excited shout snapped the olive pony away from the mesmerizing scene, and Star Swirl turned to see a grinning gray unicorn gallop down the halls towards him. He suddenly stuck his hooves out in front of him and skidded the last twenty feet, coming to a stop mere inches from Star Swirl’s nose. “You ready, or did you chicken out?”

Star Swirl grinned back at the gray colt and lightly punched his horn. “I’d never chicken out, Winter. I’m ready for whatever they throw at me.” He crossed his eyes at Wintershimmer. “Are you ready?”

Wintershimmer enthusiastically bobbed his head. “Yep! I’ve been practicing all night for today! What do you think they’re gonna want us to do?”

The olive colt shrugged. “I dunno; I’ve spent weeks memorizing every spell I can think of. And I heard that the Archmage herself is going to be there!” He shuddered with nervous excitement. “What do you think we’re gonna have to do to pass?”

Wintershimmer’s face grew a little paler when he heard that. “Oh, uh… I-I don’t know,” he admitted, his ears folding back against his head. “Probably something really hard… I mean, the Archmage can only take one apprentice, r-right?”

“Yeah,” Star Swirl answered. “It’s probably gonna be really hard.” Then he stuck his chest out with all the brazen confidence of a teenager. “But it won’t be too bad! Mom says I’ve got some of the strongest magic ever!”

The gray colt faltered a little bit. “Y-yeah, well I’m gonna get the apprenticeship first!”

“It doesn’t matter who gets it first, you dodo. It’s about who gets it last!”

“Then I’ll get it last too!”

The sudden opening of a grand pair of doors at the far end of the hall broke the pair of colts away from their petty argument and only fueled their excitement. A emerald unicorn mare stuck her head through the door and narrowed her eyes through her spectacles at the apprenticeship hopefuls. “Colts, the testing is to begin soon. I don’t believe I need to remind you that once the doors to the Arcanaeum open, nopony is allowed inside the study until an apprentice is selected.”

Star Swirl and Wintershimmer looked at each other, at the mare, and back at each other. Immediately, both colts galloped for the door and the mare, with Wintershimmer’s longer legs outpacing Star Swirl’s. The emerald mare waited until both had sped past her, then rolled her eyes and shut the door.

The doors opened into the Grand Study in front of the Arcanaeum, where eight other colts and fillies milled about, practicing their various spells. Star Swirl and Wintershimmer gawked at the enormous windows spaced between even larger bookshelves, shedding the fine golden glow of daylight across the grandiose room. Both unicorns knew that the windows were fake and only enchanted to look like the sun’s light, as the Arcanaeum, like much of the castle, was embedded within the stone of the cliff that protected River Rock from the elements.

A rough shove to their flanks knocked both colts out of their sightseeing and nearly onto their faces. The emerald mare pointed towards a pair of large benches in the middle of the room, only one of which the other teenagers were sitting at. “Take a seat at the end of that bench and wait until you’re called,” she droned. “When you finish your test, you’ll come back here and sit on the opposite bench and wait. Silently. Talking with another finalist about the test is strictly forbidden and you will be disqualified if you do so.” She bent over to fix both colts with a stare that was both harsh and bored. “Any questions?”

“No ma’am!” both colts hastily replied as they simultaneously took a step back.

“Good.” Her magic took hold of her glasses and adjusted them as she took a seat next to the door. Apparently done with the tediously exhausting business of dealing with fillies and colts for the day, she opened a thick tome and laid it before her, her eyes scanning the pages at a blistering speed while her ears remained erect and pointed in the direction of the rest of the prospective apprentices.

Taking that as their cue to leave, Star Swirl and Wintershimmer trotted over to the end of the large bench and sat down. Up and down the long pew, five fillies and three other colts practiced various spells from the different schools, recited dry magical theory to themselves, or simply chatted with one another. Behind it all, however, was a fierce determination that they would be Archmage Comet’s apprentice, not anypony else present. Star Swirl’s heart fluttered with excitement. Wintershimmer’s thundered with anxiety.

Almost as soon as they’d taken their seats, the doors to the Arcanaeum were flung open. Striding into the middle of the Grand Study was a sky blue mare with a graying golden mane that started in large curls near her scalp and ended in long, smooth waves at her shoulders. Her cherry surcoat complimented the blue of her fur beautifully, and the only jewelry the mare wore was a simple platinum pendant inset with rubies around the base of her tightly coiled and surprisingly pronounced horn.

“Well!” the mare exclaimed in a slightly flagging voice that gave away her old age. “What do we have here? Oh, look, it’s my future apprentice!”

The mare threw her forelegs into the air with a large smile on her face. The ten juvenile unicorns in the room blinked at her in confusion. One of the colts near the front turned to look behind him.

Slam! The mare suddenly materialized a large walking staff from the impossibly small folds of her surcoat and slammed it against the floor in front of the colt. “You. Leave. Goodbye. Tata. Au revoir.”

The colt jumped in shock and fell off the bench, nearly knocking over a filly sitting next to him. “W-what?” he sputtered, looking up in disbelief. “W-what do you m-mean?”

“You lack confidence,” the mare explained, drawing her walking stick back towards her side with her magic. “You looked around to see if I was referring to somepony else. Obviously, you did not have enough faith in yourself, nor the desire to believe I was referring to you. I will not have some foal unsure of himself and second guessing his own brilliance to serve at my side.”

“But… but…”

The mare in the surcoat sighed and cast a pleading glance towards the emerald mare in the back of the room. Wordlessly, the latter grabbed the colt’s tail with her magic and dragged him away from his peers. Only when the doors shut again and the emerald mare sat back down at her seat, did the one in the surcoat continue.

“One down. Eight to go,” she said. Stepping forward, she began to pace up and down the length of the bench. “Now, as I’m sure those of you with any sort of wit guessed, I am Archmage Comet. You may also call me Archmage or Miss Comet. If you refer to me by any other name, you will not be my apprentice. Am I understood?”

A series of frightened nods answered her, and a small smirk made its way onto her face. “Good,” Comet said. Then, nodding towards the juvenile closest to her on the bench, she gestured towards the door. “Come. You’re first. If you’re going to fail, fail quickly so I can get to the rest of your friends.”

All eyes fixed on a nervous filly with a bright orange coat as she hopped off the bench and galloped after the Archmage. Only when she was at the threshold to the Arcanaeum and Comet had already gone inside did she stop long enough to take a deep breath and trot into her final examination.

The doors shut with a thunderous boom behind her.

Wintershimmer and Star Swirl exchanged glances once it was over. All throughout the study, the young unicorns murmured to each other about what had just happened, and each thankful that the Archmage hadn’t sent them away instead. Spells flared to life with increased vigor and theory echoed off of the walls of the chamber faster than before as the unicorns went back to practicing and preparing for the inevitable.

Wintershimmer swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the elaborate doors leading into the Arcanaeum. “So… that was Archmage Comet?”

Star Swirl nodded breathlessly. “Yeah… she’s a lot more frightening than I thought she’d be.”

The gray colt bit his lip. “I-I don’t know if I can do this, Starry.”

One or two nearby teens perked their ears in Wintershimmer’s direction but just as quickly went back to their practices. Star Swirl frowned in their general direction for a second before turning back to Wintershimmer. “Come on, Winter, you can do it. I believe in you.”

“What if I can’t do what she wants, though?” Wintershimmer asked. “Somepony else will get the apprenticeship.”

“Winter, you’re awesome at magic!” Star Swirl insisted. “You passed the last round of exams with flying colors!”

Wintershimmer scoffed lightly. “Yeah, well, I know I’m better than pretty much everypony else at magic. It’s just…” his words trailed off as his eyes wandered over his competition—including Star Swirl. “What if I’m not the best?”

Star Swirl could only shrug and pat his friend on the shoulder. “Hey, just give it your best shot, you know? How hard could it—”

His words were cut off by the doors opening and the bright orange filly scampering out of the room. Her cheeks were red and her ears were flattened against her head, and she kept her eyes averted from everypony else in the room. Wordlessly, she sat down at the other long bench in the room with her back facing her peers.

Star Swirl and Wintershimmer both jumped when Archmage Comet called out “Next!” from the Arcanaeum. A brown colt nervously slid off the bench and trotted towards the door as fast as his shaky legs would allow, and the doors shut once more with the resounding boom behind him. All the apprentice prospects in the room looked at the orange filly, wondering just what exactly they were in for.

“Sun and Stars,” Star Swirl whispered. “That wasn’t more than a minute.”

Wintershimmer gave a shaky nod. “Yeah…”

They sat in silence from then on. The doors opened and closed at a frightening pace, and Star Swirl could only watch as the colts and fillies on his bench dwindled in number while the other bench slowly grew. All too quickly, it seemed, it was just Star Swirl and Wintershimmer sitting by themselves with six other hopefuls on the opposite bench.

Once more the doors opened, and a mint green filly scampered out, tears matting the fur on her cheeks. Almost immediately, Archmage Comet’s bored voice shouted “Next!” from within the Arcanaeum, and Star Swirl felt his heart skip a beat. He hopped off the bench and trotted towards the door, pausing only long enough to flash Wintershimmer a brave smile. Then he trotted into the massive library.

The thunderous boom of the doors shutting behind him echoed for what felt like ages in the empty halls of the Arcanaeum. Star Swirl flinched when they did so; there was no escape now, no turning back.

“Sit.” Archmage Comet’s voice drew Star Swirl over like a moth to a flame. The blue mare was seated at a grand curved desk devoid of anything apart from a simple iron box. While the Archmage herself had a rather large and plush high-backed chair of red velvet and gold, a little wooden stool with three gnarled legs was the only chair available for Star Swirl to sit in. Gulping, the colt trotted forward and carefully sat himself down across from Comet.

Comet flicked her ruby eyes up and down Star Swirl’s body. The colt suddenly felt naked and vulnerable seated alone before the elder mare, and he did his best not to fidget. Eventually, Comet nodded approvingly and leaned back in her chair. “Your name?”

Star Swirl blinked but quickly recovered from being suddenly addressed. “Star Swirl, ma’am.”

“Star Swirl…” Comet echoed to herself. She withdrew a small notepad and quill from the folds of her surcoat and scratched a few lines down in its pages. “Your father’s the noble who married the farm maiden, right?”

Star Swirl felt his ears burning and flattened them against his head. “Y-yes, ma’am,” he replied. That ‘mistake’ on his father’s part had practically destroyed his family’s social standing and earned Star Swirl himself endless amounts of ridicule as a unicorn lacking pure blood and little better than any of the earth ponies to the north. That Archmage Comet spoke so casually of it made the young olive unicorn feel even more uncomfortable.

“Good.” Setting her notepad and quill aside, she steepled her hooves together and rested her elbows on the table. “Well, young Star Swirl, do you think you have what it takes to become my apprentice?”

Star Swirl, remembering the example Comet had made of the colt before she even started testing everypony else, nodded vigorously. “Yes, ma’am!”

A ghost of a smile flickered at Comet’s lips. “Then surely you’ll be able to pass a simple test.” She nodded towards the iron box in front of her. “Open the box.”

Star Swirl nodded and grabbed the box with his magic, tilting it this way and that to get a good look at it. The iron surface was unblemished and polished to a near-shine, and the sides were uniformly designed so that it looked like a cube. A thin seam split the box into two halves, with a large lock on one side. There were most likely hinges on the other side, but they were probably concealed within the box.

“Oh, by the way,” Comet said, a small smirk on her face. “I forgot to mention that you only have one minute to open the box. Well… fifty-one seconds at this point.”

Star Swirl froze up upon hearing that, and Comet’s smirk grew larger. Realizing he was wasting precious time, the young unicorn immediately tried to brute force the box open. The container was too well designed for that, however, and no matter how he strained, he couldn’t get the box to budge in the slightest.

Chewing on his lip, he tried the next thing he could think of; trying to turn the tumblers with has magic. Squinting at the cube, he tried to envision the inner mechanism of the lock and reach out with his Arcana. The wash of his golden mana felt around the interior of the lock, looking for the tumblers, until suddenly the lock made a ringing noise and a lance of pain shot down his horn. Startled, Star Swirl dropped the box back down on the table as his magic cut out. He winced and rubbed the tip of his horn, eyes narrowing on the box. The tumblers were made out of lodestone. Of course.

“Thirty seconds…” Comet cooed, seemingly taking pleasure in watching Star Swirl’s struggles. Gulping, the colt grabbed the box again, this time with his hooves, and lifted it up to his face.

Something moved inside the box. At first Star Swirl wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it or not, but a few exploratory shakes confirmed that something metal was in the bottom of the cube. Furrowing his brow, it took only a second for Star Swirl to figure out what it most likely was: the key to the lock. With twenty seconds left, a plan quickly took hold in the colt’s mind.

Setting the box back on the table, Star Swirl quickly cast a scrying spell to get a look at the inside of the box. He shut his eyes and let his magic do the looking for him, and sure enough, the faint glimmer of an iron key inside the box appeared in his mind. He began to channel mana to teleport the key out of the box, a difficult task in its own right, until he noticed that the loop of the key was made of void crystal and was held to the bottom of the box by a ring.

“Ten seconds…”

Sweat formed around the base of Star Swirl’s horn. He couldn’t teleport the key out of the box; the void crystal wouldn’t teleport with the rest of the key. His mind raced at a million miles per hour. Maybe he could…

Wait. The void crystal wouldn’t teleport with the rest of the key… He nearly laughed when the revelation hit him. Confident that he’d solved the answer, he simply teleported the rest of the key minus the void crystal loop that held it to the bottom of the box. The key disappeared from the vision of his scrying spell, and a flash of light and the pop of the key materializing next to his face followed immediately after.

Opening his eyes, Star Swirl quickly guided the half of the key into the lock’s keyhole and turned. The lock fought him for a brief moment, but soon enough there was the satisfying click of tumblers falling into place, and with a triumphant smile on his face, Star Swirl opened the box.

The clapping of hooves and a satisfied smile on Comet’s face was his reward. “Bravo, Star Swirl,” Comet said, sitting up straighter in her chair. “Everypony else fell apart when put under pressure. I’m impressed with your resourcefulness and level-headedness. The others that made it as far as you did overthought the void crystal on the key.” Her smile grew a little brighter as amused chuckles left her lips. “Magic is complicated, yes, but a true mage needs to know how to look at things piece-by-piece. Keeping your mind from overcomplicating matters is perhaps the most important lesson my mentor taught me long ago, and it’s what I’ve been looking for in an apprentice.”

Then, to Star Swirl’s surprise, she reached over the table and rested a hoof on his shoulder. “I’m sure we’ll be speaking again, very shortly.”

Almost as soon as her break from character had begun, however, it quickly slipped away. Comet resumed her bored expression, leaned back in her chair, and flung the opened box over her shoulder in a wash of ruby magic. The large doors behind Star Swirl swung open, and Star Swirl gasped as Comet’s magic grabbed him by the mane and pulled him away from the desk. The glow vanished before he’d completely left the door, and he roughly fell on his stomach just outside the doors as Comet’s voice shouted “Next! Finally!” over his shoulders.

The colt stood up and dusted himself off, noticing Wintershimmer trotting towards the door just long enough to make eye contact. To Star Swirl’s surprise, however, his friend didn’t seem nervous anymore. In fact, he marched through the open portcullis as confident as a pony could be. Star Swirl didn’t even have the time to wish him good luck before the doors shut behind him.

Shrugging, Star Swirl triumphantly trotted towards the bench and sat on the edge, chest puffed out and shoulders raised as high as he could make them. He shot the other nervous colts and fillies a confident, cocksure smile, and turned back towards the door to patiently wait for Archmage Comet’s emergence.

He didn’t have to wait long at all, for less than thirty seconds later, Wintershimmer emerged from the Arcanaeum just as confident and relaxed as when he’d entered. Archmage Comet followed close behind, an amused smile on her lips. The elder mare slowly walked into the center of the room and seemed contented to just slowly drift her gaze from one nervous unicorn to the next.

Finally, after several seconds, she spoke up. “Well, colts and fillies, we all know what was at stake here today. You all had your sixty seconds with the box, and I’m proud to say that some of you did much better than others. I saw a few novel approaches—I think turning the box into cheese, or at least attempting to, was my favorite—and a few of you just absolutely fell apart, crashing and burning like a barbarian siege tower. However, I thankfully don’t have to keep looking for an apprentice, because somepony did well enough to pass today.

“Now, everypony, stand up.”

The colts and fillies quickly jumped to their hooves, still trying to make a good impression on Comet regardless of how well they did on their test. Comet waited a few seconds after everypony was standing, then pulled out her notepad and held it in front of her ruby eyes.

“Yew Branch, sit down.”

The brown colt, who was the second one to be tested, blinked once and opened his mouth. Archmage Comet shot him a look that made it clear she was not going to tolerate him saying anything, and so, defeated, he sat back down on the bench, the first of nine.

Comet nodded before she continued reading off names. “Indigo Horizon, sit down. West Star, sit down. Filigree, White Tail, Radiance, sit.”

That left just Wintershimmer, Star Swirl, and the orange filly from before standing. Comet seemed to revel in letting her eyes flit from one to the next, and soaking in the resentment and disappointment of those who were seated. After passing over everypony at least once, her eyes settled on the orange filly. “Starburst, you may sit down.”

The filly gasped and sat in stunned silence. Both Wintershimmer and Star Swirl exchanged wide-eyed glances with each other. They both knew one of them was going home empty hooved, but at the very least, they’d made it this far, and it’d be a testament to their career as a mage, regardless of where that future took them.

Comet smiled and put her pocketbook back in her surcoat. “Star Swirl.”

The olive colt flinched as he heard his name. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop the heavy stone of disappointment from settling into his gut. Still, he fixed a sad smile on his face and turned to congratulate Wintershimmer.

“Step forward.”

Star Swirl suddenly froze. He turned his golden eyes towards Comet, baffled and surprised, and received an encouraging nod in return. Swallowing hard, he stepped forward, feeling the icy glares of everypony else, or at least, everypony apart from Wintershimmer, stabbing into the back of his neck.

“You proved yourself to be the quickest thinker out of everypony here when you opened the box. Even under pressure, you came up with a solid plan and didn’t let yourself overthink the situation too much; there’s nothing I hate more than a mage who takes twenty pages to pen a spell in the Grimoire when it could’ve been done in two.” She nodded once more to him. “Stand by my side.”

Star Swirl couldn’t believe it. He moved as if in a daze, his mind reeling from what he’d heard. Before he knew it, he was standing by the archmage’s right side, looking back at everypony who didn’t make it. Only Wintershimmer was left standing awkwardly by his own.

Then Comet did something that surprised everypony; she looked directly at Wintershimmer. “Wintershimmer, come here.”

Wintershimmer stood there in shock. It took Comet clearing her throat to snap him out of it and make him scramble towards her other side. When he was standing by her side, Archmage Comet continued. “Wintershimmer stands next to me because he was the most resourceful out of all of you here. He was the only one that tried scrying the Arcanaeum to see what the test was.”

Everypony gasped, including Star Swirl, and they all turned towards Wintershimmer, whose gray coat was beginning to turn crimson at the cheeks. Comet rolled her eyes. “Well, let me ask you all. Did anypony ever say that you couldn’t?” When nopony answered her, a smug smile manifested on her face. “A true archmage doesn’t play by the rules others establish. If you don’t try to bend or break a few, you’re never going to invent any new spells. If you’re too stuck in established ways of thinking, you’ll never think of anything new.

“Practicality and daring. That’s what I wanted to see out of my prospective apprentices.” Smiling broadly, she wrapped her forelegs across the two colts’ shoulders and pulled them close. “And that’s why I’m taking not one, but two apprentices. I think the two of them will have much to teach each other, and to teach me, while they study under me. Perhaps someday, River Rock will have two great Archmages to advance the study of magic. Why we only ever have one at a time is beyond me.”

Star Swirl and Wintershimmer shot each other excited glances. Neither could believe this was actually happening. On the bench, the finalists who’d failed their final challenge either tried their best to mask their disappointment and be happy for the two colts, while others simply shot the two colts looks that made it clear they were going to be enemies from now on.

She gave each colt a comforting smile. “Star Swirl, Wintershimmer, welcome to the first day of the rest of your lives.”

The story ended alongside the tobacco in Star Swirl’s pipe, and blowing one last smoke ring, the elderly archmage stowed the pipe back in his robes. “Comet admired me for my practical and orderly thinking. She admired Wintershimmer for his wit and willingness to bend rules to succeed. While we studied under her, she did her best to play up our strengths; she encouraged me to methodically work my way through a problem and to be respectful of the schools of magic, but she encouraged Wintershimmer to think outside the box and push magic in ways that maybe magic shouldn’t have been pushed.” He sadly shook his head. “Comet was never an egomaniac, but I feel she was looking out for her legacy when she tried to raise two archmages with two very different approaches.”

“So you and Wintershimmer were actually friends?” Clover asked, her head cocked to the side.

Star Swirl sighed and gave a solemn nod. “In our youth, yes. We were friends. When Comet decided to make both of us her apprentices, we were ecstatic that we’d get to learn under her together. But she taught me how to perform magic one way, and she taught Wintershimmer how to do it in another. We fell into competition between our two ‘schools’ to see who could create more spells and write more pages in the Grimoire, and soon those friendly competitions turned into a heated rivalry. By the time Comet died, Wintershimmer and I despised each other.”

“Wow,” Diadem said from the desk. “Sounds like Comet wasn’t a good teacher.”

Star Swirl shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that. She taught me nearly everything I know, after all. But I don’t think she understood what she was doing by pitting us against each other like that. The day I won the apprenticeship with Wintershimmer was the day I was alienated from all of my other mage friends growing up. Sometimes I wish that Comet had only taken one of us to be her apprentice. But either she didn’t care what she was doing when she took the two of us, or she knew exactly what would happen, and I think I’d rather not know the answer.”

The olive stallion stood up and rested a hoof on Diadem’s shoulder. “Diadem, you are a gifted mage. You didn’t become Clover’s apprentice through sheer luck. At Onyx Ridge, you more than proved your potential to her when you stood your own against the barbarians that’d foalnapped you. Everypony can see that you’ve got a bright future ahead of you. One day, you’ll be an archmage greater than even Clover or myself, and your name will be the one to fill history books, not mine. I believe in you.”

Diadem looked up towards Star Swirl with her teal eyes. “You mean it?”

Star Swirl nodded. “Don’t let Wintershimmer intimidate you. Don’t let anypony intimidate you. Follow your lessons, practice often, and never—” and here he touched Diadem’s horn with his hoof, “—never stop thinking. You can learn everything there is to learn in the world, but to create is even more special.”

Clover wrapped her hoof around Diadem’s shoulders and nuzzled her forehead. “Everything comes in time, Diadem. You’re only fifteen. You might start writing in the Grimoire in a year, or it might be in ten years. Regardless, nopony’s putting pressure on you to be an archmage now. Take your time, practice, become confident in yourself and your abilities…” She smiled sweetly at her apprentice. “When you’re ready, you’ll know.”

Diadem couldn’t help but let a little smile make its way onto her face. “Thanks, Clover,” she said, nuzzling her mentor’s neck. “Thanks, Star Swirl. Seriously.”

A dry chuckle left Star Swirl’s throat. “Oh, it’s nothing at all. Honestly, I’ve dealt with it all before. Maybe next time I’ll tell you the story of when Clover was your age.”

Abject horror pulled at Clover’s quickly-paling features. “Oh, uh… I-I don’t think that’s a good story, Grandpa.”

Diadem’s ears perked up. “Really?! Oh, you gotta tell me that one, Star Swirl! You just gotta!”

“Like I said, maybe next time,” Star Swirl said, winking at Clover, who was looking decidedly worse for wear. “For now, though,” and he wrapped his foreleg around Diadem’s shoulders and began to usher her out of the room, “how about we go to the waterfront and get something nice for dinner, hmm? It’ll be my treat.”

Diadem nodded vigorously, and her stomach offered its own loud agreement. “Sounds great! I’m so hungry!”

“I thought you might be.” Letting Diadem run off through the door, Star Swirl turned to Clover. “Are you coming, Clover?”

Clover blinked and shook her head. “Y-yeah. I’m coming.”

“Good,” Star Swirl said. “I think we’re all due for a little time to simply unwind.”

A dark figure lay draped across the railing of the balcony on the west tower, the tufts of its furry ears twitching gently in the summer breeze. Aurora had her legs splayed out on either side of the railing, looking for all intents and purposes like a cat soaking up sunlight, letting the warmth of the setting sun permeate her cold, undead coat. Her eyes twitched underneath closed eyelids, and her shoulders rose and fell with subconscious breathing that was largely irrelevant to a thestral. It was nearly lost to the breeze, but her snoring sounded more like a contented purr, and her hooves pawed at the ground in imaginary worlds known only to her.

All that ended in an instant when the door to the inner chamber slammed open. In a flash, Third Sister was sitting upright on the balcony, hard yellow eyes locked on the figures entering the bedroom for a moment before they softened in recognition. Hopping off the balcony, she stretched her limbs in a decidedly feline manner before scratching an itch at the base of her curved horn and cantering into the bedroom.

“…honestly, I’ve rarely felt the need to strangle somepony as much as I did today,” Luna said to the other thestral at her side as she entered the room. “A summoned spirit? A demon? Feh! If only the foal knew who he were really talking to...” She shook her head, and her teal irises landed on Aurora’s figure. “I trust there were no disturbances, Third?”

Aurora shook her head. “All quiet on the western front. Did the reception go well?”

Luna rolled her eyes. “It did, for a time. Until the Union’s archmage made his appearance. He has one of the greatest inferiority complexes I’ve ever seen, and overcompensates by being exceptionally insolent to everypony around him. Thankfully for him, Queen Jade drew him back before I had to get involved in silencing his tongue.” She took a few more steps forward, frowned at the jingle-jangle of her jewelry, and began to strip the articles from her body. “At least his intrusion broke up the monotony of the meeting. Help me remove this gaudiness. Queen Platinum seems to think it’s necessary that I go around the palace like some sort of pampered noblemare, but I detest it. Far too noisy and restricting for my tastes.”

Luna’s command drew Aurora over, where she began to disassemble Luna’s outfit with her magic. Meanwhile, the alicorn turned towards the other thestral in the room. “Do you have it?”

“Yes,” Seventh Brother answered with a dip of his head.

“Good. Give it to me.”

Wordlessly, Seventh materialized a crystal ball through a show of spitting, bubbling purplish magic. It was shaped vaguely like an eye and glimmered from within like it contained a small star. The alicorn snatched it out of his magic with her own and briefly regarded its facets before she carefully set it down on the indigo sheets of her bed. “I will return this to Star Swirl tonight,” she said. “I’d rather it be back under lock and key, especially with this… uncouth pretender Wintershimmer residing in the castle.”

“Or you could use it to keep an eye on him,” Seventh suggested, his fangs contributing to the ghastly smile that materialized on his face. “Something that powerful should see use, not sit locked away in an archmage’s supply closet.”

“As I’m sure you believe,” Luna scoffed at him. Aurora lowered her head and set about neatly organizing Luna’s dress, now that it was fully off of her slender frame, and let her mistress chew out her sibling. “I will have it known, Seventh, that any further attempts to use or secret away the orb will result in a lengthening of your sentence. You will not touch the orb again.”

The thestral stallion stiffened at the command and seemed to involuntarily take a step farther away from the crystal ball on Luna’s bed. “As you command, Mistress,” he answered.

Luna gave him a curt nod. “Good. We shall not speak more of this topic.” Turning away, the alicorn crossed the room and stepped onto the balcony, where she rested her hooves on the railing. “It’s almost time to raise the moon. Third, Seventh, you will patrol the halls from dusk to dawn, and escort anypony who has no business being awake at this hour back to their room, or to me. Until the moon ascends, however, you are free.”

Both thestrals bowed their heads and left Luna’s presence, shutting the large doors behind them. They meandered down the steps to the lower levels of the castle in silence until Aurora suddenly spoke up. “I never asked you why you stole that thing in the first place.”

Seventh scoffed. “That much should be obvious. I wanted to keep an eye on somepony.”

Aurora rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Who could you have left that you’d want to keep an eye on? Your father? I know you two never got along while you were alive.”

Seventh opened his fanged mouth to speak, but shut it again as they rounded a corner and skirted past two vigilant legionaries on patrol down the long halls of the castle. Only when they were well outside of earshot did the stallion begin again. “No. But they are family.”

“You never seemed like one too big on family,” Aurora countered. “So who is it? Your mom? A sibling? Long-lost marefriend?”

Some emotion glimmered in Seventh’s eyes; Aurora couldn’t be sure what it was. “Something like that. It’s…” His words stuck in his throat, and he frowned at his inability to get them out. “It’s more complicated than that. It’ll be easier if I show you.”

Aurora perked an eyebrow at that. “Show me? So the pony you’ve been keeping an eye on is here?”

“If it’s not too late, he should be,” Seventh said. He angled his horn towards another set of descending stairs. “Come.”

The two thestrals went down the staircase and through a few halls on the third story of the castle before they came to a series of large, open windows overlooking the courtyard below. Without warning, Seventh Brother climbed out the window and began to walk along the shingles to a more secluded corner overlooking the courtyard.

“What are you doing?” Aurora asked, climbing out after him. “Did you have a pet parrot once or something?”

Seventh didn’t answer. Instead, he sat on his haunches in the corner of the roof, where his dark blue coat seemed to melt into the heavy stones of the castle rising behind him. He waited until Aurora let out an exasperated sigh and sat down next to him to point to the small figure in the middle of the field.

Aurora narrowed her slitted yellow eyes at the figure. It was a small pegasus colt, barely older than a foal, with a light blue coat and a short mane of white, brown, and black locks that bobbed with every stumpy motion he took with his little legs. His teeth clenched around a wooden toy sword which he swung in repetitive strokes in front of him. His brow was furrowed in a concentration Aurora had only seen from children a hoofful of times in all her years of serving as the orphanage’s matron.

But she recognized this colt; she’d seen him around the castle every once in a while in the week she’d spent at it so far. He always clung to either the Legatus, Twister, staying close by her side, or following Commander Hurricane around the training fields, pretending to be a legionary. Her mouth dropped open in surprise, and she turned to Seventh. “You know Tempest?”

The thestral stallion nodded. “Of course I do,” he said. His eyes narrowed in on the little colt practicing with his toy weapon, and he slid forward a little bit, the tiniest tug of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “He’s my son.”

Chapter 12: A Feast for Ponies

The morning sun woke Twilight. She groaned and tried to resist its tempting warmth, instead choosing to bury her head under one of the many, many pillows on her bed. With the light blotted out and darkness once more reigning, Twilight sighed and let the cool feel of silk sheets and griffon down pillows slowly lull her back towards oblivion.

She opened her eyes and sat up with a yelp. She didn’t own silk sheets or griffon down pillows. Bewildered, she pawed at the pillow in front of her and snapped her head left and right before her senses finally came back to her. She recognized this room. It was her old room in Canterlot Castle; the one she used to stay at when she was Celestia’s full-time apprentice in her studies. It felt like it’d been years since she’d last seen the inside of this room.

The violet mare rolled out of bed and blinked away the last vestiges of sleep. She couldn’t even remember when she went to bed, but the weights pulling at her eyelids told her it must’ve been really late at night… or really early in the morning. So it wasn’t too much of a surprise to her when she looked out the window and saw that it was almost eleven based on the sun’s position in the blue sky.

Groaning, she trotted to the private bathroom and shut the door behind her. Her weary reflection greeted her in the mirror, and she silently grabbed a brush and smoothed the wrinkles in her mane out and shaped it into its usual squared-off shape. She briefly entertained taking a shower, but ultimately decided against it; Celestia was probably waiting for her anyway, and she definitely didn’t want her mentor to think she’d made a habit of sleeping in until noon while in Ponyville. So, stifling one last yawn, she left the bathroom and opened the door to her bedroom, intent on finding some food for her growling stomach.

As fate would have it, the first two ponies she saw upon entering the banquet hall were none other than the princesses themselves. Celestia and Luna shared idle conversation as they worked on their meals; Celestia with her garden salad, and Luna muzzle-deep in some sort of colorful and sugary cereal. Upon seeing Twilight, Celestia smiled and beckoned her over. Luna only glanced up long enough to lick her lips before her ravenous hunger fell back upon the sugary food like a starving lion on its prey.

Twilight trotted over, and as soon as she was within earshot, she began apologizing. “I’m sorry Princess, I didn’t mean to sleep in so late, I was tired and—”

Celestia chuckled. “Oh, Twilight, it’s more than alright. I figured you’d need your sleep after all we read last night. I asked the castle staff not to disturb you this morning.” She glanced to her right, where a servant had wheeled a cart to their table, and lifted a plate and some utensils off with her magic. She set them before Twilight, who stared wide-eyed at the plate. “I had the cooks whip up your favorite for when you woke up.”

Twilight salivated at the plate of pancakes, whipped cream, and strawberries laid out before her. Almost as soon as the golden glow of Celestia’s magic faded from the china, Twilight’s Arcana snatched up her utensils and tore into the meal. Only after she’d stuffed three mouthfuls of pancake down her gullet did she smile and trill her delight. “Oh, it’s been forever since I had these! Spike and I have tried to make our own in Ponyville, but they never turn out as good as these pancakes!” She noticed the faint smile on Celestia’s face, and she blushed slightly. “Erm, excuse my manners, Princess.”

“It’s quite alright, Twilight,” Celestia said, and the teasing glint in her eyes fell on her sister. “I’m already used to it.”

Feeling all eyes on her, Luna looked up, a bit of milk hanging from her lower lip. “What?”

Twilight giggled. “Gee, Princess Luna, I didn’t know you liked cereal that much.”

“Hast thou not indulged thineself in this sugary treat?!” Luna asked, incredulous. “Tis truly a miracle of modern cuisine! Oh, Loopy Fruits, where were thou when We needed thine sugary energy boost in the days of yore?!”

“Uh, I used to eat those all the time when I was a filly… or when I was studying for finals,” Twilight admitted. “I didn’t think you’d really eat them when you have access to the castle’s cooking staff whenever you want.”

Luna scoffed. “Nonsense! We—I require a much greater caloric intake than the average pony. Having such a sweet treat on hoof is precisely what I desire during the quiet hours of the night and the long hours of the day.”

Twilight blinked. “Wait… Princess Luna, do you ever sleep?”

“I trance for twelve hours a week,” Luna answered her. “Between Our nightly vigil and the duties of the day court, I simply do not have the time to sleep as you or Celestia would. The trance requires I only incapacitate myself when I am absolutely sure that the castle is safe or Our services will not be required. It is much more restorative and refreshing than the ‘sleep’ I used to have in my mortal days. Unfortunately, it is rather difficult to rouse me from such a state until it has run its course.”

Twilight stared at her, slack-jawed. “You only sleep for twelve hours a week?” The young mare could already see the amount of research and studying she’d be able to finish if she cut out something as pesky as sleep from her schedule.

“Twilight....” Celestia shook her head, already aware of what her student must have been thinking. Then she turned back to her sister. “I’ve told you, Luna, that you don’t have to attend the day court. You can rest then if you want; I’ll handle it myself.”

“Nonsense!” Luna exclaimed. “We—I need these experiences to reacclimatize myself to Equestrian society. Missing out on interacting with my subjects would only stunt my recovery, not foster it.” She paused only to stuff several more spoonfuls of cereal into her maw. “I’m certain you can understand, sister.”

The white alicorn frowned. “I’ve told you that you can hold a night court if you want…”

“Ponies are not interested,” Luna replied dismissively. “It’d be a waste of my time when I could be holding Vigil instead.”

Twilight, who had been sitting quietly up until this point, cocked her head to the side. “What’s so important about this ‘Vigil’? You’re just keeping watch over Equestria, aren’t you? Or is it something more?”

A pained expression took hold of Luna’s face. “It is… yes, it is something more. It is remembrance. For those who were unjustly damned by the actions of few.” Her gaze hardened on something on the table, and following it, Twilight noticed the journal tucked against Celestia’s salad plate. “Wintershimmer…”

“Wintershimmer?” Twilight echoed. “You mean Star Swirl’s rival? Did he actually do something while he was in Everfree?”

“No,” Celestia interjected. Her magic took hold of the journal and opened it to where they’d left off the night before. “Wintershimmer did nothing while he was in Everfree. But it was something he knew… something he discovered, rather, and refused to tell us, that really damned those who died because of it.”

Twilight stared at her mentor, shocked.

Luna set her spoon aside, her features dark with the simmering anger of a wrong inflicted many thousands of years ago. “Read on, sister. The information will surface in due course.”

Twister sighed, letting the warm water soak her face and run down her neck. Her tawny wings hung loose at her sides, the water slowly working its way into their feathers before running in rivulets along her wingtips to the tiled floor. Steam rose all around her, and she greedily sucked down the moist and warm air, feeling it revitalize her limbs and soothe her aching body.

She grabbed a comb in her teeth and, cradling her mane in a foreleg, began to slowly brush the long black hair. It’d been an exhausting day; not only did she have to organize the pegasi’s contribution to the formal dinner, but she’d also been stuck trying to deal with the fallout of Wintershimmer’s rather memorable arrival. Insulted senators and offended centurions had entered her office one after the other, demanding that the foreign archmage pay for everything he’d said the day prior. It took all of Twister’s willpower, but she calmly and firmly reminded them that rude or not, the archmage was still a guest, and he’d be treated with the proper amount of respect. She’d received quite a few angry glares in response, but it was nothing she wasn’t already used to.

The front door opened and closed, and Twister’s ears perked at the sound of hoofsteps. Sighing, she finished combing out her mane and twisted the valve on the showerhead shut. She took some fresh towels in her teeth and wrapped them around her dripping body, and after taking a few more moments to comb the excess water out of her mane and tail, she stepped out of the shower and trotted towards her bedroom.

“Twister?” a stallion’s voice asked from downstairs. “You’re home?”

“Just got out of the shower, Echo,” she replied. “There’s still wood in the boiler if you want a hot one.”

A faint grunt of acknowledgement was her husband’s response. Once inside her bedroom, Twister dropped her towels on the floor and slid open the door to her walk-in closet. More dresses than she could possibly count lined both sides of the little room, and Twister allowed herself a small smirk as she began nosing through the various fabrics and colors. While she generally considered herself a prude like her brother, dresses were her guilty pleasure. She’d never been able to afford dresses when she was a filly; being a farmer didn’t bring in all that much money, even if her father was a decorated war veteran who knew Haysar personally. As such, she’d only ever owned one nice dress, and even that was a hand-me-down from her mother. When she became Legatus, however, and she suddenly had money at her disposal, she purchased all the finest dresses and wares she could find with foalish glee. While she’d gotten better in the twenty-five years since then, she still couldn’t help herself if she saw a dress that she really liked.

Two large wings wrapped around her shoulders, making her squeak in surprise as she felt herself drawn towards a warm body. She felt hot breath on her neck before a stallion’s lips brushed her cheek. “You’re back early today.”

Twister giggled and twisted around in Echo’s embrace. “Parliament wasn’t in session,” she said, wrapping her forelegs around the off-white stallion’s neck and hanging from his shoulders. “Figured I’d take the chance to relax while I could.”

Echo Wing smiled and leaned forward so his lips could meet with Twister’s. The mare moaned and fluttered her wings while it lasted, tightening her grip on Echo’s shoulders to pull herself closer. When the kiss finally ended, the two pegasi rested their foreheads against each other’s, and Twister smiled flirtatiously. “Seems like somepony missed me.”

“And you didn’t?” Echo teased, letting Twister drop to her hooves again. “If I’d known you were coming back early, I would’ve met you in the shower.”

Twister tittered and tapped Echo’s nose with a hoof. “I’m sure you would.” Turning around, she hooked two stolae out of the closet on her wings and held them before Echo. “What do you think? White and gold or blue and black?”

“White and gold, obviously,” Echo answered without a moment’s hesitation. “You going somewhere?”

“Formal dinner,” Twister answered. Setting aside the blue and black stola, she quickly donned the white and gold one. “We’re holding it for the envoy. Figured we’d treat them to some real Cirran cooking.”

“Don’t you mean Equestrian?” Echo asked, following Twister out of the closet.

“No, I mean Cirran,” Twister said, sitting down in front of a mirror and grabbing some brushes and combs for her mane. “Everypony knows we have the best food.”

“Hmm, true enough,” Echo replied. While Twister fooled with her mane, he trotted to the side of the room and stared at the pile of armor in the corner for a moment before shaking his head and bending over to pick it up. “I take it the reception went well?”

Twister immediately scowled at her reflection. “No. It was a nightmare.”

Echo’s ears perked up. “Really?” he asked, speaking around the leather strap of a bracer held between his teeth. “What happened?”

“Everything was fine at first. Queen Jade made her appearance, treated the Triumvirate with respect, and bowed before Celeste and Lūn. It was even nice to see Smart Cookie again.”

She paused abruptly, and Echo raised an eyebrow at her. “Then what happened?”

The Legatus shuddered. “I had the fortune to watch two old stallions measure their withered dicks against each other.”

Echo blinked in surprise and silently mouthed the words. “Eww…”

“Not literally, thankfully,” Twister said. Using a combination of her wings and hooves, she began to pin back her mane so it hung over her right shoulder. “Star Swirl and the Union’s archmage, Wintershimmer the Complacent, had a bit of a spat. Things got messy, fast.”

She inspected her reflection to make sure her mane was done up to her liking, and she began to apply eyeliner. “Jade stepped in before it got too much worse, but the delegation didn’t leave the castle in a good mood. And now I have to go to this stupid dinner and entertain them.”

“Sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you,” Echo said. He placed a hoof on Twister’s exposed shoulder and pecked her on the cheek. “I hope it goes well.”

“Please don’t get coal dust in my coat, I just washed it,” she said, flashing Echo a flirty smile. “All I’m hoping is that there isn’t a brawl in the courtyard. Especially since my brother’s going to be in attendance. Fights don’t end well for other ponies when he’s involved.”

Echo scoffed and backed away as Twister stood up. “Sounds stressful. Maybe I can help you unwind when you get back.” He flashed Twister a knowing smile, which she gratefully returned.

“Hmmm… I’d like that,” she purred, rubbing cheeks with her husband. Then, pressing a hoof against her chest, she let out a deep breath and took on the air of a Cirran senator. “I should be back by midnight. Make sure that Squall practices before dinner, her teacher said she’s getting really good at the flute. And make sure Gust doesn’t spend too much time at the academy tonight, she needs to get some rest. I’ve heard that the Legion’s medical exam is a doozy.”

Echo smiled at her as she trotted past. “Okay, Mrs. Mom, is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“Actually there is,” Twister said, pivoting on a hoof. A playful smirk graced her lips as she jabbed a hoof into Echo’s chest. “Brunello di Montalcino from the cellar and red candles for when I get back. Make sure the kids are in bed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” Leaning forward, she hugged Echo one last time, squeezing his muscular shoulders before finally parting. “Well, I better get going. Diplomatic incidents don’t incur themselves!”

Music filled the courtyard, soft, elegant, and relaxing. Under the amber glow of the setting sun, the spacious courtyard nestled between the arms and halls of Everfree Castle looked perfectly peaceful and inviting. Long banquet tables filled nearly two-thirds of the open, grassy space, with the remaining third empty for ponies to mingle. Candles nestled in intricate and colorful glass holders lit up the tables with a wan glow, and the songbirds overhead sang their last songs to one another before nestling down for the night.

Already, ponies were milling around the courtyard or holding idle conversation at the tables. Nobles, senators, representatives, and anypony who was anypony stood around in their finest dresses and robes, moving between conversations as much to see as to be seen and admired. Merry and haughty laughter echoed off of the castle’s stone walls in equal measure, creating ghostly noises that could be heard from blocks away.

At the fringes of the courtyard, five figures stood in the shadows of the stone halls. There the Equestrian Triumvirate and the alicorn sisters watched the guests and politicians filter into the courtyard with passing interest. Their eyes were vigilant for the glittering ensemble of the Crystal Union delegation, which had thus far remained absent.

Queen Platinum leaned over the balustrade with one hoof on her chin. She wore an entirely different dress and jewelry from the day before, and the usual coils of her mane had seemingly been multiplied tenfold to the point where two small twirls hung past either of her temples. She huffed her annoyance and tapped a hoof against her chin. “Why do I feel like I’m the only pony in the world that bothers being punctual to formal events?” she muttered.

“What are you talking about?!” Puddinghead exclaimed. The brown earth pony was practically jumping in place, his eyes trained on the kitchen windows across the way. “I was here a whole hour early just trying to get some of that food! I’m starving! Hay, even just some horse durves would be awesome right about now!”

“Hors d'oeuvres, Chancellor,” Platinum corrected. “I would’ve thought you’d at least know how to say it correctly, seeing how it is an earth pony word, after all.”

“Pffft! As if! That’s from the Prenchies in the east. My dad tried to teach Prench to me when I was a colt, but the only thing I remember how to say is ‘omlette du fromage’.” Puddinghead snorted and shook his head, his hat swaying dangerously at the sharp motion. “Oh, what a silly language.”

“I fathom that they are not a widespread cultural group, as I have not heard anypony speak in their tongue,” Luna said, striding up towards the two leaders. Unlike her previous two formal appearances, her ensemble was considerably toned down. A translucent blue silk dress hung from her shoulders with a low cut around the neck, and the hem of the train rested barely an inch above her fetlocks. “Pity; they have a beautiful language.”

“You speak Prench?” Platinum asked, a surprised look in her eyes.

“Pas tois?” Luna responded, a coy smile on her face. “Just because my sister and I were not physically present in the affairs of ponies for countless years doesn’t mean that we never kept an eye on you all; or, well, as best as we could, with the pegasi living a continent away. I know all the common equine tongues, and even a few less common ones.”

The fluttering of wings turned the three ponies’ heads to where Twister gently touched down in the grass. “Your Highness,” Twister said, bowing before Platinum. “My Lady,” she continued, nodding towards Luna.

“Legatus,” Platinum greeted, nodding curtly towards Hurricane’s younger sibling. “Lovely dress. I adore the coloration.”

Twister flashed a small smile. “Thank you, Your Highness. Occasions to wear any of my nice stolae are unfortunately rare. You’re lucky that you don’t have to wear armor whenever Parliament is in session like myself or my brother.”

“Oh! Sun and Stars, I can only imagine what that’s like.” She wrinkled her nose at some memory. “The summer days are by far the worst, too. All the sweat just sticks to your coat and makes you smell absolutely terrible.”

“Heh. Yeah, my husband won’t even let me in bed with him until I’ve cleaned myself off after a hot day.” Twister shook her head. “And he’s the one that works at a forge.”

Platinum allowed herself a small smile of sympathy. “Well, I don’t blame him. I’ve sat next to your brother for hours before. It’s not a pleasant smell.”

“Oh, don’t get me started about the smell…” Twister muttered. Her brow furrowed, and she quickly scanned the immediate area. “Speaking of my brother, where is he? Gods forbid he’s actually mingling with the guests and dignitaries.”

Chancellor Puddinghead broke off the tune he was humming to himself. “Who, Ricky? Yeah, he’s hanging out back there with Celly. Somepony doesn’t like his robes.”

Robes? Twister cocked her head to the side. “Huh. Well, thank you, Chancellor. I’m going to speak to him for a minute.” She turned back to Luna and Platinum and nodded to each in turn. “For your time.”

Platinum simply waved a hoof, dismissing Twister to resume her conversation with Luna. The brown pegasus fluttered towards two figures, one unnaturally tall and radiant in the sunlight, and the other…

Only three of Twister’s hooves touched the ground, for the fourth was trying to help her lips stifle a laugh. Hurricane turned to her, and the scowl that was already present on his face further engrained itself. “Get it out now.”

With her brother’s permission, Twister released the laughter building in her throat until she was nearly doubled over. Wiping a tear from her eye, she touched her brother’s nearly naked shoulder with a hoof. “What’s this, Cane? Somepony finally got you to ditch your second coat?”

“Yes, and it’s quite lovely, don’t you think?” Celestia said, standing by Hurricane’s side. Her wingtips took hold of some of the loose fabric and held it up for Twister to see, and Hurricane folded his ears against his head.

“There’s nothing special about it,” he grumbled, pulling the purple fabric away from Celestia. He tugged on the gold embroidery and tried to smooth it out as much as possible. “It’s just a toga picta.”

“‘Just a toga picta,’ he says,” Twister muttered, shaking her head. “Oh, you know, just the emperor’s special garments. No big deal.”

Hurricane frowned at her. “You know I wanted to wear my armor tonight.”

“Of course you did,” Twister said, and she rolled her eyes. “You always want to wear your armor.”

“I told him it’d be better for tonight’s occasion to wear something nice, formal…” Celestia eyed Hurricane with a teasing glint. “…something less threatening.” The alicorn shook her head with a small laugh. “You should have seen it when we dug it out of the back of his wardrobe. I doubt it’s been worn in years.”

“Knowing my brother, probably twenty-five.” Twister leaned in and gave her brother a quick hug, pecking him on the cheek as well. “You look good, Cane. You should wear your robes more often.”

“That’s what she said, too,” Hurricane muttered, shooting Celestia a glance. His wings fidgeted at his sides, and his upper lip drew back in disgust. “I feel naked like this. A single dagger between the ribs, a crossbow from behind, and I’ll be dead before I even knew I was in danger.”

Twister lightly smacked Hurricane’s cheek. “Why do you always think like that? Nopony’s trying to kill you, Cane. Can’t you just relax for one night?”

Hurricane looked his sister in the eyes with a sad look. “You don’t even know, Twister. When you’ve seen the things I’ve seen…”

The three ponies stood in awkward silence, only saved by Platinum’s voice calling back to them. “The delegation’s here…finally. Come along, everypony, and please do put on your civil faces.”

The three ponies looked at each other, and Hurricane smiled at Twister. “I guess I’ll see you after this is all over?”

Twister laughed. “You won’t see me without a wine glass tonight, so you’ll find me one way or another before the night’s through. I could use a good drink.” She crossed in front of Hurricane and flicked his nose with a wingtip. “You two be good now.”

“We’ll be—what?” Hurricane asked as Twister’s words finally registered, but by then the mare had already trotted into the midst of a gaggle of senators. Furrowing his brow, Hurricane ultimately sighed and shook his head. Fussing with the loose fabric around his shoulders and across his chest one more time, he quickly caught up to the Sisters and the rest of the triumvirate, who had already started towards the center of the courtyard without him.

A quartet of Crystal soldiers escorted Queen Jade, Smart Cookie, and Archmage Wintershimmer into the courtyard, while several more Crystal soldiers made their way around the perimeter to stand between the legionaries on duty. Equestrians quickly parted to let the Crystals pass, with some having the courtesy to bow and smile at the Union delegation. The Triumvirate and alicorn sisters arranged themselves identical to their positioning at the previous day’s reception, and each nodded in turn towards Jade when she finally stood before them.

“Queen Jade, lovely to have you in attendance tonight,” Platinum said, bowing her head to the mortal alicorn. “We do hope that you enjoy yourself tonight, and that you find Equestrian cuisine to your liking.”

Jade smiled and returned the bow, her nearly clear dress rippling and shimmering over her crystal coat like colored glass. “Thank you for your hospitality,” Jade replied, brushing the long and loose curtain of her mane back into place against the side of her neck. “I do apologize for yesterday’s break of formalities,” she said, shooting an angry glare towards the bored-looking Wintershimmer by her side. “I assure you that it won’t happen again tonight.”

Wintershimmer rolled his eyes and scratched at his neatly trimmed chin. “I doubt I shall have much to share with any of you, perhaps with the exception of the spirits. If my senses do not deceive me, and I do hope they aren’t, my only ‘peer’ is absent.”

“I suppose you mean Star Swirl the Bearded,” Luna responded, narrowing her eyes at Wintershimmer.

“Why? Do you see him?” Wintershimmer fixed Luna with an irritated stare, one the alicorn met with perfect neutrality. “I admit my eyes aren’t as sharp as they used to be, but it’s been nearly twenty minutes since I left my chamber, and I haven’t been wrongly accused of murder yet.”

“Star Swirl is not here,” Hurricane stated. “He said that he’d rather eat his dinner in peace and quiet. I don’t blame him.”

“Of course,” Wintershimmer muttered. Sighing, he adjusted his robes with his magic, which were the same he wore during the reception. “A shame. Not that I miss his accusations, mind you, but I now tragically lack any sort of a peer worth speaking with.”

“Archmage.” Jade’s flat tone of voice caught Wintershimmer’s attention and silenced him, at least for the time being, and not without an irritated huff. Nodding once more to Platinum, she donned an apologetic smile. “Forgive him. Now, where will we be seated?”

Platinum stomped her hoof on the ground, and immediately a pair of finely clothed earth ponies trotted up to the side of the congregation. “Our servants will show you to your seats and bring out the first course. You will be seated at the raised table with us; a show of solidarity is expected, after all.”

“But of course,” Jade replied, and she held out her hoof, which Smart Cookie took. “Lead on,” she called to the two servants, and together the four of them departed, leaving only Wintershimmer to trail in their wake.

Luna stepped forward as Wintershimmer passed by her side and fixed the gray unicorn with her teal eyes. “A word of advice, Archmage,” she warned. A small, deadly smile traced her lips. “A pony’s words can be as dangerous to himself as they are to others.”

Wintershimmer stopped and regarded Luna with casual interest. “You threaten me, spirit? Do you think you have the freedom to act against me for speaking my mind? I’m sure that a civilization that prides itself on being ‘ever free’ will look positively stunning when it hangs foreign dignitaries for speaking the ugly truth about its diamond latrine of lies.”

“You misunderstand me,” Luna said. A challenging glint appeared in her eyes. “A fool will make himself known to all around him, given enough time. Sometimes all it takes is somepony with greater wit to draw him out.”

Wintershimmer calmly smiled back at Luna. “And sometimes the fool is the one who oversteps her boundaries, through jealousy or idiocy. It matters not. But she is already drawing herself out, and all I need to do is wait.”

“We’ll see about that,” Luna said, and with a curt nod, Wintershimmer left to join the rest of his delegation.

Celestia nudged her sister, and the triumvirate turned to face her. “Luna, control yourself,” Celestia warned. “There’s no need to get yourself involved.”

“Of course there’s no need,” Luna said, waving her wing. “I’m doing it because it’s fun. You should try it sometime.” Luna paused for a moment to let the jibe find its mark. “That idiot is all pomp and flair. I will end him before the night is through.”

Puddinghead, who looked mostly confused, simply shrugged his shoulders and began walking away. “Whatever, I don’t know what you ponies are playing at, but I’m getting me some of those house dives!”

High above the castle, wispy clouds hovered, seemingly resisting the winds that blew their compatriots away. The reason, impossible to determine from the ground, were the pegasi that clung to its surface and slowly beat their wings, keeping the clouds oriented above the castle. From their vantage point up high, and with the setting sun to their backs, they watched the events unfolding below with a keen interest.

Green eyes narrowed at the indescript black blob standing between two larger ponies, and Typhoon clenched and unclenched her jaw. Her hooves pulled and squashed the springy cloud beneath her, and her wings fluttered restlessly at her sides.

“Looks like a formal gathering,” one of the pegasi on her right commented, drawing Typhoon’s focus back towards the bigger picture. Furrowing her brow, Typhoon noted all the colorful ponies and outfits making their way from opposite ends of the courtyard and back again in some never-ending cycle of movement. Five banquet tables, four parallel to the long side of the courtyard and the short one arranged across the others like a crown, slowly filled up with party guests and government officials. Silver platters entered the courtyard full of food and left empty, but never once did the hypnotizing flow of ponies cease moving.

“Yeah… but for what?” Typhoon murmured. She leaned even further off the edge of the cloud, but wrinkled her nose as the smell of sweet cedar smoke rose up to meet them. The chimneys from the castle kitchen were a hundred yards upwind, and the smoke from their massive ovens was starting to make Typhoon’s eyes water and obscure her vision. Growling, she spat at the ground and stood up. “I can’t see who all’s down there or what the occasion is. We need to get lower.”

“If we go any lower we have a chance of being spotted,” another pegasus warned her. “The castle has fliers on patrol around its perimeter. Look.” His speckled hoof pointed towards four pegasi flying in a tight wedge formation making slow rounds about the exterior of the castle, with groups flying in the opposite direction passing above and below them. “There’s only four of us; we can’t outfly an entire centuria forever.”

“No… we can’t.” Her eyes followed several of the patrol groups, trying to trace their patterns, until they settled on one in particular which flew low around the castle walls, almost level with the surrounding rooftops. “But we can certainly outfly four.”

One of the pegasi raised his eyebrow at her. “Commander?”

Typhoon turned about and inspected the streets and buildings closest to the castle, mapping their layout and committing it to memory. “Come with me, and ready your weapons.”

“But Abaddon said we’re just supposed to observe guard patrols tonight for the raid,” one of her companions protested. “We’re not supposed to endanger the mission.”

“The mission’s changed,” Typhoon stated bluntly. “I have a feeling that whatever this celebration’s about is important, and I want to know what it is. So, one way or another, we’re going to find out.” She took a deep breath and her eyes pulsed green once more. “Let’s see who’s home, shall we?”

Clover sighed and absentmindedly nudged her spoon around the edge of her soup bowl. Sure, she had been excited at the prospect of attending a formal dinner on the castle grounds, and sure, she’d been thrilled to wear one of her new dresses Platinum had bought for her just for the occasion, but for some reason, reality wasn’t living up to her expectations. She was bored and uncomfortable. Part of that had to do with Star Swirl refusing to attend on principle as Wintershimmer would be present, and the other part had to do with the pony she was sitting next to.

Mayor Greenleaf, with his usual deft political clout, easily and expertly bounced back and forth between several conversations with high-ranking senators, old-family nobles, and other ponies of wealth and influence. His slimming suit was both simple and elegant, and Clover figured it was made specifically for the occasion. In his magic hovered a champagne glass that he continually took sips from between sentences, yet somehow never seemed to empty. The servants tonight were too attentive for the Mayor’s own good.

As the night wore on, meals arrived one after the other, and Greenleaf’s conversational partners would excuse themselves to commune with other powerful friends or to take a spouse or mistress—or several, in some cases—for a dance. Between the third and fourth courses, which Clover felt were ridiculously small, she suddenly found herself alone at the table with her father. Greenleaf seemed to pay her no mind, instead keeping his eyes focused on the leaders sitting at the head table while he worked on emptying his bowl of tomato soup.

Sighing, Clover dropped her spoon in her soup and pushed the bowl away from her. Her head dropped into her crossed forelegs and her nose touched the table beneath them. She didn’t care that she was crumpling her elaborately curled mane beneath her forelegs. She was bored, irritated, and frustrated, at Star Swirl and Wintershimmer, at the elaborate dinner about nothing, and at her father’s distant demeanor. All she wanted to do was go back to her study and pick away at high level mana theory and drafting her papers on the dangers of bloodletting and the four humours in general as a basis for medical treatment.

“What’s the matter, Clover?” Greenleaf asked, finally taking his eyes away from the nations’ leaders long enough to notice his daughter’s boredom. The question, however, was spoken without any real concern or emotion in general, and was delivered like it was something obligatory.

“Bored,” Clover mumbled into her forelegs. Sitting upright, she groaned and rubbed her temple. “This is all so boring.”

Greenleaf regarded her with a cool purple eye for a moment before shaking his head and turning back to his meal. “Then leave if this bores you so much. I’m sure you’ll be much happier working on your studies.”

Clover gritted her teeth and rested her temple in her forehooves. She’d had enough. “You don’t get it, do you?” she hissed, shooting an angry glare at her father. Greenleaf regarded her with his usual political mask of neutrality as she practically seethed at him. “What’s with you, lately?”

The stallion raised an eyebrow. “Whatever do you mean?”

“This!” Clover hissed, throwing her hooves wide. “Why are you so cold? Judgmental? Disinterested? What’s with you?”

Greenleaf shrugged and stared across the courtyard. “I’ve been busy with politics. The Legatus and the Cirran senate—”

“I don’t give a buck about your politics!” Clover shouted. A few nearby ponies turned towards her, but she didn’t care. She was too angry now. This had been a long time coming, and now there wasn’t anything that was going to stem the avalanche of rage and indignation.“That’s all it’s been for the past year. Politics, politics, politics. Busy with this and dealing with that and the Choke this and the Legatus that! What about your daughter? What about me?!” She stomped her hoof, tears forming in the corner of her eyes. “Don’t I mean anything to you anymore?”

Greenleaf blinked, and he tentatively reached out a hoof before drawing it back. “Clover, I—”

“That! That right there! ‘I’, that’s your problem! All you ever care about is yourself. You don’t care about me!” Clover cried, blinking rapidly to try and hold back the tears in her eyes. The edge of her pent up emotion now blunted, her tone softened, tinged with sadness. “I was so happy when I found you back in Onyx Ridge. I thought you were gone forever, but there you were, and I remembered what it was like to have a father again. And for a time, I was happy. We spent so much time together, just you and me. No politics, none of this… this bullshit.” She grabbed Greenleaf’s shoulder with a hoof and gently shook it. “Don’t you remember all the picnics we used to have, Daddy? We used to go down to the river every week and eat lunch on the shores. I… I loved that. It meant so much to me, and then you stopped. I’ve been trying to drown it all out with work, but it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.”

She let go and sat back down, her forelegs shaking. Several ponies at nearby tables were muttering to each other, but the courtyard was too big and the music too loud for everypony to notice. Sniffling, Clover wiped a fetlock across one teary eye and looked at Greenleaf with the other. “I… I miss you.”

The archmage stood up so rapidly her chair toppled over behind her, and with a sob, turned around and stormed out the nearest door, leaving a very ill-looking and concerned Greenleaf behind at the table.

Queen Platinum narrowed her eyes at the far side of the courtyard as Clover disappeared down the halls, tears streaming from her face. At his seat, Mayor Greenleaf swallowed hard and tugged at the collar of his robes with his magic. Equestria’s queen sighed and shook her head. She’d have to have a talk with the unicorn later… both of them.

It was just the latest development in what’d been an extremely dry and stiff formal dinner. Platinum had spent much of the dinner conversing with Queen Jade, who sat immediately to her left, and Hurricane, who sat to her right. Puddinghead and Celestia rounded off the end of the right side of the table, while Smart Cookie, Wintershimmer, and Luna filled out the left. While Platinum originally wanted to keep both Celestia and Luna on Equestria’s side of the table as a show that the gods were on their side, Luna insisted that the entire party be flanked between the two alicorns. The dark alicorn claimed it represented that nopony was outside the influence of the gods, but Platinum really knew why Luna wanted to sit at the far end of the table. It put her right next to Wintershimmer.

For the most part, the two had behaved themselves. Occasionally, Luna would make some small noise or ‘accidentally’ bump Wintershimmer’s side, earning an irate glare in response which Platinum could tell the alicorn absolutely reveled in. For his part, Wintershimmer acted bitter and uncharacteristically silent, allowing Platinum and Jade to lay down some preliminary talks for further border policies with respect to their growing nations, the placement of Hurricane’s legions, and trade deals involving the Horseatic League and Union ports under ‘Legion protection’ such as the Crystal Shores. Platinum wasn’t going to complain much about that; any progress was good, and if the Union’s archmage was going to be silent during the whole of it, so much the better.

The arrival of dessert changed everything.

Just like the previous three courses, dessert was served on silver platters edged with gold. Mountains of sweet fruits such as apricots, pears, and lemons sat alongside shellfish that’d been flown in that morning from the shores, chilled on ice, then split open to be consumed. It was truly a Cirran meal; the pegasi around the courtyard immediately dug in, while the earth ponies and unicorns looked on with apprehension. Platinum herself felt a little sick to her stomach, seeing the large shrimp head seemingly staring back at her. She wordlessly took her platter in her magic and dumped the shellfish onto Hurricane’s plate. The pegasus rolled his eyes and began peeling the shells away with his pinions.

At the other end of the table, Luna crunched straight through the shell of a prawn, seemingly oblivious that it needed to be removed first, and let out a satisfied hum as she swallowed. She turned her teal eyes toward Wintershimmer, who’d promptly stuck his nose up at the meal and nudged it farther away from himself, and made a show of licking her lips. The corner of her mouth twitched as she nodded towards the archmage’s plate. “I would strongly recommend at least finishing dessert, archmage. You’ve hardly eaten anything all night; I know that the elderly tend to become grouchy if they go to bed on an empty stomach.” She cocked her head to the side and tapped her chin with the tail of a prawn held in her magic. “Although that would explain much.”

Platinum instinctively cringed as the Crystal Union’s archmage gently set both hooves down on the table and turned to his left. Even Queen Jade looked on in mute horror as Wintershimmer looked Luna in the eye and began to speak. “Have you ever heard of a ‘palette’, spirit? Or is that something which your conjurors failed to define for you?”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “Spirit, hmm? Tell me, Archmage, why are you so convinced that my sister and I are nothing more than summoned spirits? Is it because you’re jealous that the gods favor Equestria enough to physically manifest themselves and walk in their presence? Or are you so blinded by your arrogance that you cannot see what sits next to you, inches from your face?”

Wintershimmer narrowed his eyes at her and quickly swiped away the few meagre crumbs that stuck to his jacket. “My own ‘arrogance’, you say?” His lips slowly widened into a wide and uncomfortable grin. “I am confident in my power, yes. I have mastered it and wielded it enough that ponies offer me the respect I deserve. But I am never arrogant, spirit. I know my limits, what is true and what is not. And the uncomfortable truth for many in this room is that my own limits are impossibly high. So they spread lies about me to make themselves feel better about the fact that they will never be me.

“And… Luna, was it you called yourself?” The archmage dismissively waved his hoof without waiting for the midnight alicorn’s answer. “It matters little. I’ve already gleaned enough about your character over the lovely dinner we’ve had together.” He sat up straighter, like a grandmaster reciting to his pupil all the ways she failed to impress him. “You are the one who is proud. Haughty. Arrogant. Spirit or not, you are so entrenched in the belief that you are immortal that you think you can get away with whatever you desire. All you want to do is run the peasants of Equestria around you like some sort of faithful rabble and be praised for your every action. You wish to build up the illusion that somehow you’re important and then let the false songs rock you to sleep so you can forget your own fragility. Because, goddess or shade, mortal or not…”

Wintershimmer’s horn lit up in its pale glow, and he likewise turned up his nose to somehow look down on the taller alicorn sitting next to him. “…I can tear your soul from your mortal shell and be done with you in an instant.”

The glow from his horn extinguished and, satisfied, the gray unicorn turned away from Luna. The mare was silent for a few moments, her face an indecipherable mask of neutrality, before she asked in a calm voice, “You seek power, don’t you, archmage?” Her teal eyes hardened with a sharp glint, and she leaned forward. “That’s why you want to open a portal to the Summer Lands.”

The archmage stiffened, and the hoof which he’d been boredly massaging his temple with quivered. “You are coming dangerously close to being worth the time it would take to end you, spirit,” the archmage replied with unveiled spite. “I tried such magic once. It is impossible.”

Luna’s lips curved into a smile, like a predator that’d finally cornered its prey after a long and winding chase. “Do not lie to me, Wintershimmer” she said, keeping her voice calm and neutral. “You know that it can be done. You’ve spent the last six years developing the theory and the appropriate sigils and circles you’ll need to do it. You’ve invested millions of gem shards in gathering materials that you think you’ll need and performing experiments to rule out what you don’t to make it happen. This is your life’s work, and you won’t let death take you until you prove it’s possible. Or perhaps… perhaps you think you can cheat death?”

The rest of the table looked on in shock. Wintershimmer himself shook in silent rage. When he broke the silence, it first came in a whisper. “I’ve finished the ritual. The research is done. But the spell is impossible. It takes two living necromancers. And even Star Swirl lacks the talent such magic would take.” Then, looking up, he let his voice rise. “You can’t possibly know this,” he seethed, baring his teeth at the alicorn. “I keep my mind warded against jealous idiots who would try to steal my brilliance. This is… this is all some kind of trick!”

Luna leaned forward and poked Wintershimmer right under the horn with a hoof. “Tell me, archmage, do you ward your dreams?”

The gray pony shook his head. “I don’t need to. Every mage worth his title knows you can’t read another pony’s dreams. The lawless land of the subconscious is too fickle… and too dangerous. You could no more catch a river with your hooves.”

“Wintershimmer, surely you know that that isn’t entirely true.” Luna sat back in her chair and curved her body to display its full regality. “You know, at least, that it is possible. A being with a sufficiently strong mind and an even stronger will can plunge the depths of the dreamscape. She can walk among a pony’s dreams like a ghost, watching from just beyond the edges of the dream world’s reality. There is only one being in the world who can do this. You know who she is.”

As Wintershimmer looked on in horror, Luna picked up another prawn and again crunched it between her teeth. “Do you still doubt me, archmage? I’ve visited your dreams many times since you arrived in Everfree. Your secrets are plain to me. I know about your rivalry with Star Swirl. The mare that you loved, only to lose her to your closest friend. Starburst, was it?”

Wintershimmer, stunned as he was, gave no reply.

“I thought so,” Luna said rather smugly. She levitated over a few pieces of fruit and popped them into her mouth, clearly enjoying herself. Then her gaze turned thoughtful for a moment. “She married Star Swirl, but you never stopped loving her, did you? That’s what really pushed you two apart. And then she died in childbirth…” Her eyes widened by the tiniest bit, and she cocked her head at Wintershimmer. “Now I think I understand.”

“I lost her?” Wintershimmer shouted, standing up so harshly he knocked over his chair. “She was stolen from me. Not by skill; not by magic; by slander and lies. The only way Star Swirl ever beat me! And then she passed so quickly…” He sat back down, panting, and stared at the plate in front of him. His sorrow quickly turned to seething anger, and he bared his teeth. “I was the better wizard. I was the better pony! And if I wanted to, I could have ripped his soul out that day in River Rock. I would never have been ‘the Complacent’. They would have called me Wintershimmer the Ruthless, but what difference does it make? I would have had what I deserved!” The archmage of the Crystal Union panted, his aged lungs wheezing and his taut cheeks flushing in and out as his ancient body struggled to contain his regrets. “That’s what I lost. I lost my destiny to a pony I pitied, because I thought he was my friend.You don’t understand, goddess; you could never understand what I’ve lost!”

This time, Hurricane stood up. With smoke trailing from his wingtips, he looked at the fuming archmage from across the table. “Lost? What do you know about loss?” he snarled. “You’ve never watched the life drain from a loved one’s eyes as she lies helpless in your forelegs and you can’t do anything to save her. You don’t know what it’s like to have to abandon your son and watch your daughter deal with being raped and tortured. You know nothing about loss.” Without a second’s delay, he turned away from the table, kicked his chair back under it, and stormed away from the courtyard.

Platinum watched him go, her jaw hanging open. Even in the courtyard, the noise from the dinner had all but died down, and everypony was watching what was transpiring at the leaders’ table. As the uncomfortable silence settled over the courtyard, Celestia coughed lightly into her wing and pushed her seat back. “I should… see if Hurricane’s alright,” she mumbled, standing up and following the pegasus away from the dinner.

As the alicorn left, Platinum felt whatever last vestiges of control she had over the situation slipping away from her. Gritting her teeth, she looked to Puddinghead with a desperate plea for help. The brown stallion blinked once, then literally jumped onto the table and waved a hoof. “Hey, what are you ponies doing down there? Let’s get some music going? How about ‘Blue River’? That’s a good one!”

The musicians glanced at each other but soon started playing, and slowly, ever so slowly, the spirit of the dinner returned to the courtyard. Satisfied, Puddinghead hopped back into his seat and immediately devoured the remnants of Hurricane’s and Celestia’s desserts, once more consumed in his own little world. At the left side of the table, Luna looked away uncomfortably from the shaking Wintershimmer, and Smart Cookie and Jade conversed in hushed and worried tones.

Platinum felt a pit open up in her gut, and she rested her forelegs on the table and pressed her hooves to her temples. Everything was going so wrong, so horribly wrong. She didn’t have control of the situation anymore. As Equestria’s queen, she was supposed to be the one who held the nation together.

So why was it that no matter how hard she tried, Equestria was splitting at the seams before her very eyes?

The stone halls of the castle echoed with Commander Hurricane’s angry hooffalls. The dark pegasus’ face was an inscrutable frown, and his purple robes fluttered after him in his wake. Servants and legionaries unfortunate enough to cross his path quickly jumped to the sides of the hallways, not wanting to become the target of the pegasus’ wrath. They only turned their heads when he passed, trying to decipher what it was that’d angered the normally level headed pegasus so.

The door to Hurricane’s room never stopped moving when the pegasus entered; it rocketed open, struck the opposite wall, and was immediately bucked shut. Growling, the pegasus took the folds of his robes in his teeth and stripped them from his frame. He only took a second to roughly bundle them up before tossing them into the corner. Hurricane’s eyes then wandered over to his large bed, its single pillow adorning a space entirely too large for one pony. It was plain. Barren. Empty.

The pegasus felt like he was looking into his heart.

A knock on the door drew Hurricane out of his somber reflection. Gritting his teeth, he turned away, determined to ignore it. The voice that followed, however, he couldn’t ignore.

“Hurricane?” Celestia asked from the other side of the door. “Hurricane, are you alright?”

Instead of answering, Hurricane flexed and relaxed his wings as he walked towards the door. He paused briefly before it, eyes wandering over the splintered wood where he’d struck it, before he pulled it open. There standing before him was Celestia, her dinner gown ruffled softly across her form, and her face etched with concern. Hurricane looked her dead in the eye and, without budging from the doorframe, asked, “My Lady?”

Celestia seemed surprised that Hurricane had actually opened the door for her. She blinked once, then peeked around the corner. “Ah… H-Hurricane.” The pegasus stared at her coolly, unflinchingly, and she shuffled her feathers. “May I come in?”

The pegasus turned away from the door without a word, but he did nudge it open a bit more with a wing. With an even stride, he wandered over to the balcony doors, which were still open, and paused at the balustrade. Celestia entered after him, her eyes briefly noting the balled-up robes lying on the floor. When it was clear that Hurricane wasn’t interested in starting a conversation, Celestia cleared her throat and sat down on the edge of his bed. “Hurricane?”

The pegasus turned one ear back towards her but didn’t move.

Celestia waited a bit longer, then in the gentlest voice she could manage, spoke to him. “What was she like?”

Silence greeted her. The pegasus remained unmoving, his eyes fixed on the glow from the dinner party happening below, despite the fact that he was clearly looking at something else entirely. Celestia uneasily flicked a feather back and forth across the sheets of Hurricane’s bed. A part of her even considered leaving before she happened to glance Hurricane’s shoulders move and something almost like sorrowful laughter left his lungs. “You know… you’re the second pony to ask me that this month.”

Hurricane turned around, and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. Slowly, so slowly, he left the balcony behind and moved towards Celestia. When he was a few feet away, he looked the mare in the eyes, and then the tears flowed, silent, gentle. “She was beautiful, that’s what she was. Not just how she looked. How she acted. How she spoke. How she thought. How she… loved.”

Celestia opened her wing and gestured for Hurricane to sit. The stallion regarded the invitation for a moment but ultimately sighed and sat down next to her. With a gentle, downy white wing, Celestia carefully hugged Hurricane’s shoulders. “She meant the world to you.” It wasn’t a question; the mare didn’t need to ask to know as much.

“Yes…” Hurricane took a shaky breath. He twiddled his hooves and looked at them in silence. Celestia patiently waited for him to go on, not once shifting position or making a sound. Eventually, the pegasus did continue, his voice so low it barely carried the few inches to her ears. “She’s been gone five years now. I thought I’d have come to terms with it by now. But I don’t know how you get over something like that.”

He turned his head to the side, where the painting of his family hung on the wall. One corner of Swift’s muzzle still curved upwards, despite Hurricane’s request for a formal and stiff depiction of the Stormblades. Even the artist knew that underneath the armor and military discipline there was a mare who loved life, a personable pony who served as the perfect counterpoint to temper her husband’s militant gruffness and chokehold diplomacy.

How he missed that smile.

“I… Something broke inside me when Swift died,” Hurricane said, his head falling again. “I was consumed with grief and anger. I swore I was going to make my son pay for what he did. I think… I-I think if it hadn’t been for her, I would have killed him that day in River Rock.”

Hurricane sighed and fanned out the silver-tipped feathers of his wing just for something to look at besides the floor. “Even after that, when Typhoon finally told me everything that happened to her in River Rock—and by then you could see it in how she looked—when she finally told me, and we realized exactly what that meant… I wish Swift would’ve been there to talk to her. I couldn’t think of what to say. I c-couldn’t…”

The pegasus began to shake and tremble, and Celestia gently held him closer as icicles began to form on his wings. “She was scared and she felt so alone,” Hurricane whispered, “and I couldn’t do anything for her. Twister was the one that had to talk to her. I didn’t even know how to begin. My sister was the one who helped my daughter when she needed me the most.” He laughed bitterly. “I don’t know why she doesn’t hate me. I failed her. I was never around for her when she was a child… and I couldn’t help her when it mattered.”

From the floor to the ceiling the pegasus’ eyes traveled, but he still couldn’t bring himself to settle them on Celestia. “Why?” he asked, almost as if he was begging the heavens themselves for an answer. “Why does everypony I love have to suffer? My parents, my wife, my children, even Pan Sea! Him, I’ve been so busy trying to prepare for tonight’s waste of time and trying to find my daughter that I still haven’t seen him yet!” The pegasus screwed up his muzzle and pressed his forehooves to his brow. “I should have died in Stratopolis. Then none of them would’ve had to suffer.”

Celestia was taken aback. The mare sat with her jaw hanging open, seeing the pegasus next to her for the first time in an entirely new light. She’d seen glimpses through the cracks in the armor before, but now, as Hurricane sat next to her completely naked of rank and title, she saw just how fragile and frail he was without the armor, without the façade of being the Commander. A stallion broken time and time again by tragedy after tragedy, until separation and impartiality were the only things that kept him going so the weight of the world would not undo him.

But… no, that wasn’t quite right. The stallion sitting beside her wasn’t broken. Not yet, at least. Despite everything that’d happened, he still tried to do his job and to protect those he cared about. Not broken, no, but definitely bent. Like a bridge that had lost its supports in a storm, Hurricane’s will bowed and flexed as it tried to support all the ponies who relied on him. And even though it was strong, amazingly strong, it would eventually break. His family and his wife had once been the supports that’d held that bridge up, and without them, the stallion was driving himself towards oblivion.

Without love and something to live for, that bridge would finally break, and so too would the legend of Commander Hurricane.

“I… I understand how you feel,” Celestia began. She curled her wing a little more to draw the stallion against her downy side. “I’m very old, Hurricane. Thousands of years old. Before my sister and I distanced ourselves from ponies, I used to love, too.” Her pink eyes wandered around the room, but all Celestia saw were memories long since passed. “I’ve had many husbands. A hoofful of wives. Dozens of children, countless grandchildren. Earth ponies, unicorns, pegasi, one or two Crystals, even, and once a zebra. I married, loved… then watched them die while I remained frozen in time.” She bowed her head. “Immortality is a tough life. Those who seek it don’t truly understand what they’re asking for.”

Hurricane looked at her through the tears in his own eyes. “How do you keep going?”

Celestia sighed and looked Hurricane in the eye. “You learn to love again. Times may change and the ponies may come and go, but you’ll never forget those you loved. And when you remember them, you’ll remember that they loved you because they wanted you to be happy. And then you’ll understand that nopony wants to watch their spouse wallow in misery for the rest of their lives after they’re gone.

“That’s how I keep going, Hurricane,” Celestia said, smiling mournfully at the pegasus. “The only thing that makes life worth living is love. And if you’re not ready to follow those you love to the Summer Lands, then learn to love again. They’ll be waiting for you when you finally do arrive.”

Hurricane didn’t say anything. Instead, he withdrew into the seclusion of his own thoughts. Even in his silence, though, Celestia could tell her words had some effect. The pegasus was no longer trembling at least, and he leaned against the warmth of her side.

With a small smile on her face, Celestia nuzzled the top of Hurricane’s head, content to sit there in the silence and the flutterings in her chest.

Typhoon walked down the halls of Everfree Castle in stolen armor and a body that was not hers. Behind her walked the other Founders that’d flown with her above the city. Each one was disguised as a member of the patrol they’d ambushed, and Typhoon felt a little uncomfortable about how well of a job the unicorns helping them did. Instead of her usual lithe and blond body, Typhoon looked and felt like a taller brown stallion. It was a little unsettling, especially considering how it raised her eyesight by a few inches. Not to mention the sound of her stolen voice or the feeling she tried to ignore between her legs.

Those illusionists were too damn good at their job.

Still, the disguise was able to get them past the legionaries guarding the castle, as Typhoon was disguised as the unit’s centurion and knew how to talk her way through. As she walked the halls towards the courtyard, however, she had to wonder how the Founders hadn’t managed to infiltrate deeper into the castle before. With disguises like these, getting anywhere within wouldn’t have been a challenge. She could only assume that Abaddon knew what he was doing and was waiting for the perfect moment to strike. His seemingly endless patience unnerved her.

Occasionally, Typhoon would have to stop her unit and salute to a Praetorian or other officer wandering the halls, and every time they approached, her heart skipped a beat. The last thing she wanted was to get cornered, questioned, and found out right in the middle of the castle. It’d only end in the deaths of her companions, the failure of Abaddon’s plans, and, most terrifying to her, her recapture at the hooves of Star Swirl. And there was no way in hell she was going to let the archmage torture her again.

The sounds of the courtyard drew her onwards. Past wait staff and servants she trotted, being careful to stick to the shadows and corners of the castle interior as much as she could. Every legionary patrol had a designated portion of the castle they were supposed to monitor, and under no circumstances were they supposed to be anywhere else. Typhoon knew that she was encroaching on another patrol’s route the closer and closer to the courtyard she traveled. She only hoped that they wouldn’t run into that patrol, or if they did, she’d be able to talk her way out of it.

Luck, for the moment, was on her side. As she rounded a corner she just barely caught the tail end of the patrol travelling down a hall to her right when she needed to go to the left. With the coast clear, she beckoned for her cohorts to follow her, and once more led the way to the courtyard, making faces at her elongated and masculine muzzle the whole time. How did stallions see past these things?

She was so caught up in the oddities of her appearance that she nearly blundered right into the courtyard; only a timely tug on her short tail stopped her. Nodding a quick thanks, she slowly stalked her way counterclockwise around the covered edges of the courtyard. Nobles talked and danced in the open grassy area, and the nearby legionaries didn’t even spare her a second glance as they stood motionless by the columns supporting the overhang. Soon enough, the head table was in Typhoon’s sights, and she understood what the big celebration was about.

Queen Jade, in all her crystalline radiance, sat at the center of the table alongside Queen Platinum. On Jade’s left was Representative Smart Cookie, which Typhoon found odd, and even further left was a unicorn she didn’t recognize. Stranger still was the absence of Celeste, Star Swirl, and her father’s corpse. Perhaps the damned wizard was doing something in his tower. Still, Jade’s presence was all she really needed to see; if the leaders of the Crystal Union were here in Everfree, what would that mean for the castle raid?

Typhoon didn’t dare stay longer and try to figure that out herself. She motioned with a brown wing, and the false legionaries behind her turned around and began to make their way back into the castle. Typhoon marched after them and quickly made her way to the front. As soon as she found an unguarded window, she would fly back to the slums and let Abaddon know what she’d found. Plans would need to be adjusted accordingly, and Abaddon would want her right at his side for all of it. She had a feeling that there were a few sleepless nights ahead of her.

She couldn’t help but look once more over her shoulder as her unit finally left the castle behind. Her eyes wandered up to her father’s room just in time to see the candles blow out. Anger welled up inside her, and she turned to fly back to the hideout faster. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but sometime soon she was going to end Star Swirl’s curse, and then, only then, could her father have the rest he deserved. All she had to do was stick her sword between the archmage’s ribs and twist.

Yes… the mere thought of it made Typhoon smile as she flew into the darkness of the city.

Chapter 13: The Brink